#a fic a season. the cleanest way to do it

[suckerfordylansstuff]

New Journey (S.H.) Chapter 7 Season 1

! This is a backstory. There are more chapters to the actual fic. Check my masterlist !

Pairing: (eventual) Steve Harrington x henderson!reader

Summary: The beggining of the story. How did Y/n Henderson get herself into this mess? How did she deal with the loss of a dear friend and how will she survive the bullies and monsters?

Warnings: swearing, blood, fighting

Notes: I told you I had the next chapters ready to go. Enjoy! 💕

Gif not mine

Chapter 6 << Masterlist >> Epilogue

Making a sensory deprivation tank wasn’t in your plans today, but here you were with the kids, Jonathan, Nancy, Joyce, and Hopper separating into teams to prepare it. You were paired with Joyce and Eleven to help her prepare for the tank.

“Where can we find goggles in this school?” Joyce asked you and you pointed to a classroom at the end of the hallway.

“That way is where the science classroom is. You will easily find goggles there. I’ll come find you after I get Eleven something to eat to regain some of her strength.”

You left Joyce and Eleven as you headed in the opposite direction towards the kitchen area. Walking through these halls made you almost nostalgic as you remembered your time spent here. It wasn’t any different than high school, kids were mean, and teachers were too strict, but right now you longed for the lost innocence of your old self.

You stepped into the kitchen and tried hard to find something a little edible in this nightmare of a kitchen. You ended up opening a refrigerator to find probably hundreds of puddings in there. You grabbed two of those and the cleanest spoon you could find and made your way back to the classroom where you found Joyce and Eleven sitting on two chairs facing each other. Joyce was busy covering the goggles with tape as you walked in, grabbed another chair, and sat down with them.

“Here, I hope it’s not spoiled.” you joked and opened the pudding for her and held it out for her along with the spoon. She sent you a small smile and started eating it. You turned your attention to Joyce who was just finishing up the goggles.

“You think this will be good enough?” she held them up for you to see.

“Yeah, they should be able to let her concentrate better.”

“Great…” she looked at Eleven for a moment. The girl was eating the dessert fast and before you knew it she was reaching for the other one. You both smiled at her, making you miss Joyce’s eyes now on you “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Huh?” your head whipped in her direction.

“When you guys found her, you should have said something to us.” Joyce’s words were so sincere, it almost brought tears to your eyes.

You smiled and looked at her shaking your head a bit “You were focused on Will… And she looked so scared around me at the beginning, I didn’t want to bring more adults before we had completely gained her trust.” Joyce understood, but she still felt bad that you had to deal with all this before she learned more about this case. It was just her motherly instincts kicking in. Almost losing Will forever made her feel empty, and she didn’t want to feel it again with any of you.

“Just know that you can always come to me for anything.” her smile made your lips turn upwards as well, taking her hand in yours.

“I will.”

“Finished.” Eleven’s words pulled you towards her and you grabbed the empty cups, getting off your seat to go throw them into the bin. In the meantime, Joyce was talking to Eleven about the goggles.

“Okay, great. So, this should keep it dark for you. Just like in your bathtub.” she stopped for a moment to take a good look at the little girl “You’re a very brave girl. You know that don’t you? Everything you’re doing for my boy… for Will… for my family… Thank you.” you returned to your chair and watched as they held hands “Listen. I am gonna be there with you the whole time. We both will. And if it ever gets too scary in that place, just let us know, okay?” you nodded at her words and waited for El’s answer.

“Yes.”

“Ready?” you spoke up.

“Ready.”

The three of you made your way back to the gymnasium where the others had set up the pool. Everything was ready for her. You took your seat in between Dustin and Lucas as you all watched the young girl put on the goggles, enter the pool, and relax her body to float.

You can feel your anxiety kicking in, the silence around the room making it worse while you wait for something, anything to happen.

The lights started flickering above you before turning off completely, darkness surrounding you.

Not much time passed when Eleven’s voice filled the gymnasium and the lights started flickering again. But you didn’t care. Your entire focus was on Eleven and the word she whispered, the name ‘Barbara’.

“Is Barb okay? Is she okay?” Nancy asked, her voice filled with fear, begging for good news. But all of your hopes were let down when the girl before you started repeating the word ‘gone’ each time getting louder and louder. Tears filled your eyes as they fell to the ground. Your friend was gone, you would never see her again.

You could hear Joyce reassuring Eleven, her screaming easing down, but you still couldn’t look up, like a weight keeping your head down. A hand covered yours and squeezed it tight, pulling you out of your trance. Dustin was looking at you with his big eyes and you used your strength to nod, silently telling him ‘thank you’.

Both your heads turned back to Eleven who had now found Will at Castle Byers. The realization that at least Will was okay, allowed you to take a deep breath, blinking away the tears that had gathered underneath your eyes.

“You tell him… Tell him I’m coming. Mom is coming.” Joyce said to her and Eleven repeated the words. The static coming from the radio stopped for a moment when a single word came through.

“Hurry.” you gasped as you heard Will’s voice, weak and small, but it was his.

“Okay. Listen, you tell him to- to stay where he is. We’re coming. We’re coming, okay? We’re coming, honey.” Joyce was on the peak of tears after hearing her son’s voice.

You could hear Eleven reassuring Will when she suddenly stopped speaking, whimpers now only coming from the radio. El shot up from her lying position, breaking any connection with the Upside Down. She was crying but she was okay. Joyce took her in her arms and tried to calm her down.

The girl ended up cuddling in a blanket, sitting with the rest of the kids, while Hopper and Joyce started making plans, Jonathan helping them, when you realized that Nancy wasn’t in here with you, you silently made your way outside.

You found her outside the room, sitting on the ground and leaning her back on the wall, her knees brought up to her chest. She looked sad and lonely. You knew all you could offer her right now was just your presence. You couldn’t make her happy or less worried or angry at herself because you were in the same situation. You had both lost a friend, a best friend in Nancy’s case.

But the brunette didn’t care about words of empathy, she just didn’t want to be alone, so as soon as you sat beside her she hugged your form as tight as she could, praying that nothing else bad would happen to any of you.

Being in Nancy’s arms brought back all the emotions you felt when you heard the word ‘gone’ from Eleven’s mouth “I’m so sorry, Nance.” you fought back the tears in your eyes as you hugged her tighter.

“I’m sorry too.” her voice whispered in your ear.

You spent a good while just holding each other, your head ending up on her shoulder when Jonathan walked out of the gymnasium and spotted you. You watched as he made his way towards you and sat next to Nancy, the comfortable silence lasting for only a moment longer before Nancy spoke up.

“We have to go back to the station.”

“What?” you and Jonathan said in unison, your own head leaving the comfort of her shoulder as you sat up straight.

“Your mom and Hopper are just walking in there like bait. That thing is still in there. We can’t just sit here and let it get them too. We can’t.” you all knew she was right. Hopper and Joyce haven’t seen this thing and for all you could know more of these monsters could be down there. The least you could do was distract one of them, possibly, hopefully, even kill it.

“So, the plan’s still on?” you knew what the answer was going to be, but you had to make sure you were all on the same page.

“I wanna finish what we started. I want to kill it.” Nancy answered you.

___

You left without saying a word to the kids. You knew if you had gone back to the gymnasium, they would have wanted to join your task and there was no way in hell you were even having that conversation. So, you didn’t say goodbye to Dustin, which meant you also couldn’t die during this madness of a plan, because you really couldn’t leave without telling him a final goodbye.

Your first stop was at the station, taking back the stuff Hopper had taken out of Jonathan’s car. Then you headed straight to his house. The first thing on the plan was to put back on the bulbs of the hundred little Christmas lights Joyce had put up. After that, you had to take care of the weapon equipment. Nancy had her gun with her, but unfortunately for you, the Byers didn’t have any other weapons inside the house, so you decided to use that and help Jonathan get creative with the baseball bat they had, putting nails all over it. For your protection, you had a couple of knives that you carried with you. Sure, they were small, but you had good aim.

You watched Jonathan carefully place the bear trap in the hallway, helping him when he needed it. The final step was to pour gasoline all over the hallway, stopping just at the living room’s entrance where you placed a chair and the yo-yo that was connected all the way to Will’s room. After all the preparations, the three of you gathered around in a circle, each of you holding a knife.

“Remember.”

“Straight into Will’s room. And-” Nancy said before Jonathan spoke again.

“Don’t step on the trap.” your friend’s eyes fell on you.

“Wait for the yo-yo to move.” you finished and held his gaze.

“Then…” he lights up his lighter for just a second, before bringing his focus back on the task at hand “All right. You ready?”

“Ready.” you and Nancy say, holding up your blades, a small hint of apprehension rising inside you.

“On three. One. Two… You don’t have to do this.” Jonathan must have noticed your shaking hand closing in on your free palm.

“Jonathan, stop talking.” Nancy told him.

“I’m just saying, you don’t have to-”

“Three.” you said determined and you grazed your palm as much as you had to draw out blood, to draw the monster to you. Nancy and Jonathan followed along, and the room filled with your gasps of pain. You dropped the blade on the table next to you and rushed to grab the bandages, tightening them around your hand to stop the bleeding. Nancy came over to help you tighten the fabric around your hand, waiting for her own turn.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when your thoughts were interrupted by a creaking sound.

“Did you hear that?” Nancy asked the three of you. She and Jonathan were sitting together on the couch as she was helping him with his cut. You were sitting on the opposite side of the room, playing with your blade after cleaning it, and calming yourself down before everything happened.

“It’s just the wind. Don’t worry.” he said to the both of you with a soft voice “My mom, she said the lights speak when it comes.”

“Speak?” Nancy questioned.

“Blink. Think of them as alarms.” he explained.

“Like when El uses her powers.” you thought out loud. Your eyes connected with Jonathan’s and his look made you stare back down on your hands. Mentioning Eleven’s name right now reminded you of everything you kept from them, from your friend who was so desperately trying to find his brother, oblivious to the fact that you knew the entire time. You felt guilty and embarrassed, but you swallowed down any unwanted feelings for now. The sudden knocking on the door certainly helped get your mind off of things as it startled all of you.

“Shit…” the curse left your lips while your heartbeat peaked up.

“Jonathan! Are you there, man? It’s… It’s Steve! Listen, I just want to talk!” Harrington’s voice was clearly heard through the door, only making you question whether it was true, or the gasoline had messed up with your head.

You turned to look at your friends, silently asking them what the hell are you gonna do now. His knocking wasn’t stopping, his voice was getting louder, and you couldn’t believe you were worrying about Steve’s well-being right now, but if you didn’t stop him right now there was a high chance your high school was going to have to find a new ‘King’.

So, Nancy quickly opened the door and tried to make him leave, keeping her answers short, which wasn’t making her dear Steve any less concerned. You and Jonathan kept quiet just waiting for this to be resolved, when Steve’s worried question made you pay more attention to the conversation happening by the door.

“Hey, what happened to your hand? Is that blood?”

“Nothing. It- It was an accident.” Nancy tried to dismiss him, but he wasn’t bulging.

“Hey, what’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Wait a sec. Did he do this to you?”

“No.”

“Let me in.” Steve pushed past her and stopped in his tracks as you and Jonathan came into view, as well as the hundreds of lights and the weapons lying around. Yeah, it didn’t look good on any of you “What is…”

“Get out of here.” Jonathan tried to push him back out, but Steve was strong enough to hold his position.

“Whoa. What is all-” he pointed around, but you really didn’t have time for his questions.

“Get out, Harrington.” you pointed towards the door.

“Listen to me, I’m asking you. I’m telling you, get out of here!” Jonathan was still pushing him back, but still to no avail.

“What is that smell? Is that gasoline?” you and Jonathan continued your yelling, failing to make the famous jock leave, when Nancy’s voice grabbed your attention from behind.

“Steve, get out!” you turned around only to find the end of Nancy’s gun pointed to Steve. You took a step back letting her handle the situation.

“Wait, what? What is going on?” the guy looked startled as he watched the high school sweetheart with a gun.

“You have five seconds to get out of here.” Nancy told him.

You watched the scene unfold before you, Nancy starting her countdown when the flickering of light caught your attention, your eyes widening with realization.

“Guys.” you called out, slightly hitting Jonathan’s arm to get his attention, pointing up at the lights.

“Nancy.” he tells her, but she’s too focused to hear you.

“Wait. What- what is this?” Steve asked, terrified over what was happening before him.

“Nancy!” you screamed.

“Nancy, the lights!” Jonathan finally managed to get her attention “It’s here.”

“Wait, what’s here?” Steve said.

“Where is it?” Nancy completely forgot about Steve as she walked next to the two of you. Your backs faced each other, creating a circle so you could have a clear view of the room before you.

“Where is what? Whoa! Easy with these!” Steve exclaimed when he saw you use your weapons out for defense. He was watching everything happen before him and did not understand a thing. Why were you all here? Why were you all hurt? Why did you have weapons? And what were you looking for?

“Where is it?” Nancy asked again, getting impatient.

“I don’t know. I don’t see it.” Jonathan said.

While your eyes were moving everywhere at once, trying to find a glimpse of the monster and ignoring Steve’s cry for an explanation, you saw specks of dust falling in front of you, making you look up. Suddenly, with a loud thud, the creature appeared from the ceiling “There!” you pointed.

Nancy started firing at the creature but Jonathan was already grabbing her, yelling for all of you to start running. With quick breaths, you began walking backward following your friends, but Steve’s still body made you stop. You grabbed his hand, tagging him along with you. You both started running, quickly telling him to jump over the bear trap, only letting go of each other when you entered the room and Jonathan closed the door.

“Jesus! Jesus! What the hell was that? What the hell was that?” Steve was panicking and yelling at the three of you, but right now it wasn’t the time to draw any more attention to you, so you collectively decided to tell him to ‘shut up’ while you waited to see what the monster was going to do.

You could hear shrieking from outside so you took your position with your blade out before the door next to Nancy and Jonathan, who had the lighter ready, waiting for the yo-yo to give him the signal to drop it. The plan was for the Demogorgon to trap itself in the bear trap and then light up the hallway, so it would burn up.

So, you stood there, hearing it walk around the house, panting as you prayed to hear the trap go off, but nothing was happening.

“What’s it doing?” Nancy asked you.

“I don’t know.” Jonathan answered.

The flickering lights returned to normal when you noticed that the house was now too quiet.

“Can you hear it?” your voice was small, dreading any type of answer you would receive.

Jonathan just muttered no. He put his lighter back in his pocket and carefully opened the door, each of you going out one by one. You looked around the house, expecting to find it hidden in a corner, ready to sneak up on you, but it was nowhere to be found.

You let yourself relax for a moment, your knees almost giving up as you crouched down in exhaustion. But, of course, you couldn’t even have a moment to yourself since Steve had started panicking again, yelling how this was all crazy. You stood up when you saw him grab the phone to call for help, but Nancy was quick to stop him, throwing it on the floor.

“What are you- What are you doing? Are you insane?”

“It’s going to come back. So, you need to leave. Right now.” she instructed him.

The guy was frozen for a moment, looking around the trashed living room and glancing at Jonathan and you for confirmation. It didn’t take long for him to understand how serious all of this was, scrambling to take his car keys out when he fled to the door.

A few moments after the door closed behind him, the lights started acting up again “Get ready.” 

You held the same position as before, looking around the room to spot it. Nancy’s adrenaline was making her ramble about where the hell it was, while Jonathan’s impatience was getting the best of him as he was now ordering the creature to show itself. You just stayed silent, trying to realize where it was going to appear.

Suddenly the lights went out and a growl was heard from behind you.

“Jonathan!” Nancy screamed for the boy’s name as the Demogorgon attacked him, sending him to the floor, the bat falling from his grasp, leaving him helpless as the creature climbed on top of him.

“Nancy, shoot it!” you yelled, and she responded quickly, the sound of shots filling your ears.

“Go to hell, you son of a bitch!”

The Demogorgon rose from the ground, the bullets doing little to no damage as it began closing in on Nancy. You just watched in horror for just a moment, watched as Nancy continued firing at it, but when she ran out of bullets, you took it as your cue to help her out. You take a deep breath and aim the blade at it. Luckily for you, it successfully landed on its back, making it shriek in pain. Unluckily for you, it didn’t do enough damage to stop it from coming towards you.

It felt like time was moving in slow motion when the abandoned bat caught the corner. The adrenaline inside you told you, you could make it, you could grab it and beat the creature with it. But your fate was decided for you when it clawed the carpet from under your feet, sending you to the floor.

You thought this was it. You hopelessly laid on the floor watching the monster approach. Its petal-shaped mouth opening up, revealing hundreds of teeth ready to demolish you. Your eyes closed waiting for the impact, and it did come, it just wasn’t for you.

You opened your eyes to see none other than Steve Harrington swinging Jonathan’s bar effortlessly, avoiding any contact the Demogorgon tried to make and in return landing every swing he made. You watched him in awe, tears prickling in your eyes as the realization of not dying caught up to you.

Nancy was helping you get back on your feet when a snapping sound caught your attention.

“He’s in the trap! He’s stuck!” Steve yelled and Nancy screamed for Jonathan to do it now.

He goes over to the poured liquid on the carpet and drops his lighter, fire igniting in the hallway, the monster screeching in pain. The heat burned your face, so you shielded it with your arm. You saw Jonathan grab the fire extinguisher as he instructed you to get back before firing it.

After a few seconds, the fire was out, smoke filling your lungs and making you cough. As it cleared out, the four of you started walking forward to see the damage, Steve next to you still holding the bat ready to defend all of you. But you quickly realized that once again, it had disappeared.

“What…” you mumbled under your breath.

“Where did it go?” Nancy asked.

“No. It has to be dead. It has to be…” Jonathan was panting, frustration filling his entire body.

You put a comforting hand on his shoulder when you notice the Christmas lights before you light up one by one. In fear you all backed away slowly, nearing the end of the hallway when they stopped approaching you and started lighting up in the opposite direction. Steve, who was now shielding the rest of you with his body and the bat, began following after them, which made you all follow after him slowly.

The lights lead you back to the living room and you all look at them nearing the front door. Jonathan moves a bit ahead of the rest of you, muttering something before you all follow the lights outside of the house.

You stand on the porch watching the streetlamp flicker for just a moment, then return back to its normal state.

“Where’s it going?” Nancy asked.

“I don’t think that’s the monster.” Jonathan simply answered as you all stood in silence catching your breath and hoping you did enough to help Joyce and Hopper out.

~~~

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[joeyb1989]

oh my god I forgot to tell you.

on the way home from the beach last night me and my girlies stopped for a late night Taco Bell run.

IT SLAPPED. SLAPPEDDD.

the taco bell we stopped at was quite literally in the middle of nowhere but it was the nicest and cleanest Taco Bell ive ever seen.

got me a crunchwrap supreme with extra seasoned rice and pico with a baja blast. MMM it was so damn good. i forgot how good Taco Bell is on a good day.

OH MY GOD. THAT SOUNDS SO GOOD.

taco bell girlies unite 🙏

lowkey might go get some for dinner tonight. the fic is actually close to being done?? surprised me too. might finish it, get taco bell, edit it, post it, and then watch love island. perfect ending to my sunday right there🥰

unfortunately the taco bell near me is not clean. there’s A LOT of people that i went to high school with that work there… it’s always awkward, but oh well! i’ll do what i have to do to get taco bell.

[kurokoros]

Hi again! Thank you for your detailed answer, I always enjoy reading your stranger things posts bc I think you really hit the nail on the head whenever you give your opinion about the show! Also yesss to what you wrote about Nancy, I really didn’t ever really vibe with her, but in S4 I think she was often unnecessarily rude & like you don’t need to be mean in order to be a a ‘tough’ character. Oh & yeah they really just focused on Dustin being sassy but idk it often felt just condescending. ‘Murray is there & I don’t care’ -> I felt that on a deeper level for sure

Oh & I’m glad you’re doing well!! & I hope you’re well have a good start to your week tomorrow ☺️

Aww, thank you <3 I've very passionate about ST, so I'm always here to answer questions about my opinions on the show lmao

Yeah, Nancy is just a frustrating character to me, and there are completely valid critiques about how she's written but if you bring them up people get really defensive about it. like guys she's basically a corporate plant "strong female character" who's only strong because she's cold, shuns traditionally feminine things, and has a gun (even thought the guns on this show continue to be fucking useless, which makes her surface-level badass-ness even more transparent).

I really didn't like Dustin in S4. Especially the way he talked to Steve. A lot of their conversations just felt meanspirited and I hate the way the last two seasons have included Dustin telling Steve that he's into Robin/Nancy. That's a big problem with the shows writing in general though. I just found it particularly obnoxious in S4 because S2 ended st.ancy in the cleanest way possible with Steve saying "it's okay", and then had him admit he wasn't in love with her anymore under the lingering effects of sci-fi truth serum. Duffers you already took st.ancy out back and shot it, why are you trying to drag it back into the house??? Stop massacring my boy. Leave him alone.

Murray eats up time and adds nothing to the story, but the actor seems like a good guy and the line "cut the bullshit and share the damn bed" is so fantastic that I'll give Murray a single right to exist, as a treat.

And I really hope this week isn't total garbage. My last three have just been the worst and I really just want to write some fics and vibe in spooky season without potentially being scratched and bit at work by the one aggressive speced kid I help with, or having to deal with a sudden erection from one of the autistic boys who doesn't have a concept of puberty. I don't get paid enough for this.

[shadeswift99]

I know I'm a couple episodes behind, but Doc and Ren's travel from the big dig server to Hermitcraft got me thinking in a major way... there's a LOT to unpack there if you want to overanalyze some fine details (which I usually do!)

Doc seemed certain that they needed to go through the Void. He asked Ren to go with the plan on trust alone, and he himself jumped in there with no hesitation whatsoever. However, after they respawned, he seemed almost confused that it worked and didn't even know how it worked. He brushed it off, saying something like "best to not think about it," and moved on.

Tried to move on, that is. His connection glitched out moments later, confusing him even more and concerning Ren. Ren brought up the possibility that the Void had messed with their minds a little, and Doc enthusiastically agreed that they shouldn't use that method of travel again. The way he said it was almost toned as though it was a thing he'd thought all along: you shouldn't travel through the Void, of course not, that's just common sense.

And yet, he did do it, just a few minutes earlier. Strange.

Here's my theory: I think the Void caused an issue with Ren and Doc's cybernetics. When Doc jumped in there, there was some glitch or mechanic that he was exploiting that he knew would get them from point A to point B, but he didn't predict that it would play havoc with them in the way it did. He just went for it, in typical cocky Doc fashion, and in typical fashion it worked! ...Just with a few minor (major) unforeseen drawbacks. I think it shorted out Doc moreso than Ren because Ren's construction is a bit more... unconventional. He probably has a lot more physical wiring rather than the wireless signal and more delicate electronics that Doc's cybernetics probably use, since Doc has had years to perfect his and Ren was quite literally reconstructed in a van. I think that made Doc more vulnerable to whatever ambient energy there is in the Deep Void (the void between worlds).

Doc now has a gap in his memory. He doesn't know what glitch he used to get back to Hermitcraft, and he doesn't know how he learned it. Who knows what else he might have lost? Even more worryingly, his connection as a player to the server seems to be frazzled. Maybe whatever part that helps the game to recognize him as a player rather than a mob was damaged, and the world is now confused about his existence at a fundamental level...

Maybe the effects will fade. Maybe they'll get worse. Maybe the mysterious entities that keep giving out books and coordinates have something to do with it. Maybe the memory alteration was intentional, and the Void was simply an excuse, a convenient way to make Doc believe it was an accident.

Maybe there's someone else steering the plot. Making small course corrections, making sure Doc and Ren don't get too close to the answer too soon.

Or at all.

Either way, they should probably both stay away from the Void for now.

[taketheringtolohac]

domesticity meme w/ leacheddie??

oh... THE married people... yeah ok here we go

big spoon/little spoon: leach obviously. she's 6'9 eddie is like, normal people height

favorite non-sexual activity: driving. they race down the highway. this is not safe. when they race eddie usually flies. but also they DO ride together on leach's motorcycle

who uses all the hot water: yeah that's also leach but she doesnt shower THAT often (lich things) so its usually not that much of a problem

most trivial thing they fight over: whether or not its healthy to drink mountain dew all the time. this USED to be a fight about monster energy, but eddie won that one too many times and now she only drinks monster for special occasions (or when she's upset. or when he can't see her)

who does most of the cleaning: eddie definitely does, he loves his wife but she is really not the cleanest person by FAR. not that he minds that much

what has a season pass on their dvr/who controls the netflix queue: neither they pirate. but in terms of picking movies and stuff eddie because leach insists that she doesn't care but really she just wants to hear him talk about the things that he likes

who calls up the super/landlord when the heat’s not working: if they don't call hewitt first, it's eddie but only because last time leach did it she almost got sued

who steals the blankets: eddie <3 he is small (in comparison) but he likes to be cozy <3

who leaves their stuff around: honestly? both of them. like, leach obviously but shes just like that EVERYWHERE. eddie is the one who actively gets things lost and she has to help him find it

who remembers to buy the milk: yeah also ed i mean im sure leach tries sometimes but she shows up with like... milk from 7/11...

who remembers anniversaries: LEACH. she might not look it but shes the biggest sap she never gets up early but she ALWAYS does on their anniversary. every single one of them. and theres a LOT of anniversaries bc theyre the type of couple that celebrates like, the day they fist kissed the day they had their first date their engagement etc etc

Who cooks normally? Eddie because last time leach tried to cook lets just say. it did not end well. he said it tasted good anyways and he genuinely believed it at the time. the power of love? i guess?

How often do they fight? almost never. when they do its resolved pretty quickly only because they seem to communicate silently since they've been doing this for like, forever

What do they do when they’re away from each other? Eddie embroiders and other stitch craft type things, Leach just sort of. hangs around empty places and fucks around for fun which gives her a Reputation around kc

Nicknames for each other? leach calls him Ed, but other than that not really

Who is more likely to pay for dinner? Eddie because if leach had her way they'd dine and dash every time after slipping cash to the waiter

What would they get each other for gifts? both things that are deeply personal and meaningful that they hold onto forever and reference things that have happened to them in their many lives and also like. here's a craft i made at the kids center and an acorn that reminded me of you. these also all get saved.

Who kissed who first? eddie <3 leach mightve done everything else first but he beat her to this one

Who remembers things? eddie usually but for some VERY specific things leach's mind is like a steel trap

Who started the relationship? leach but like, eddie didn't realize they were dating for WEEKS.

Who cusses more? leach obviously. but eddie curses WAY more than people expect him to

What would they do if the other was hurt? well. eddie dies in canon. i wrote a whole fic about that. but on a more minor scale leach fusses over him to no end, eddie does it too but WAY less than she does when he's hurt

Send me a pairing and i'll do this thing for them!

[megsmulti]

#11: Can you please come and get me?

This takes place in between season 8 and season 9 when Brettsey was still in the best friends stage of their relationship. I loved s8 Brettsey, ngl.

Prompt comes from this prompt list. Once I saw this particular prompt on there, an idea sprang into my head instantly and this fic was born! Enjoy!!

                        ————————————————————————————————

Matt was sitting at Molly’s drinking his beer and listening to what Severide was saying before his phone rang, interrupting their conversation in the process. 

He smiled when he saw the name Sylvie Brett as the caller ID. Kelly raised his eyebrows in curiosity. 

“I gotta take this,” Matt said, walking outside to avoid the loud crowd inside. “Hey, Sylvie. What’s up?” 

“Matt, I need your help.” It sounded like there was some slight panic in her voice. He accepted her help because he would always be there when she needed him. “I was on my way to Molly’s when my car broke down all of a sudden. Can you please come and get me?” 

“Yeah, absolutely. Where are you?” 

“I’m at the corner of Halsted and Fullerton, which is the worst place to be stuck in when your car is done for, by the way.” 

“Ok. I’m on my way. See you soon.” Matt walked back into Molly’s receiving questioning looks from everyone in the bar area. He immediately took his jacket off of the stool he was sitting on. “Sylvie’s car broke down. I gotta go pick her up and bring her here. I’ll be back.” When he walked away, Kelly was smirking. He knew how much his best friend was in love with the PIC, but he wished that Matt would use his words and tell her how he feels.

—————————————————————————————————

It wasn’t long before Matt showed up and saved the day. Or night, rather, since it was dark outside. Right as he saw her silver sedan, he parked behind her. 

“Matt!” Sylvie was ecstatic that he was here. She hugged him when he got out of his truck and while he was caught off guard at first, he reciprocated it. “I’m sorry this is on such short notice.”

“No. It’s not a problem at all. Don’t worry about it,” Matt replied. Why was he the sweetest man on earth? It’s what she loves about him, amongst many other things. But, he doesn’t know that. “What needs to be fixed? I can work on it if you want.” 

“Matt Casey, a contractor and a mechanic?” Sylvie asked, raising her eyebrows. She definitely didn’t know that. 

“I’m a man of many talents, Sylvie Brett.” Yes, that was flirting and yes, that was intentional. “When I was younger, Christie’s car broke down many times and I was always the one that fixed it.” Sylvie’s never heard that story before. She loves it when Matt tells her stories about his life prior to the CFD, both the good and the bad. 

“As much as I appreciate that offer, I already called a tow truck before you got here. They should be coming any minute now.” Matt nodded. 

Soon enough, the tow truck did show up and Sylvie requested that her car be taken to an auto body shop near her apartment. She did have Matt’s new fact about him saved in her back pocket for future reference, though. He didn’t look offended about it, so that was a good thing.

——————————————————————————————————

Sylvie was in the passenger seat of Matt’s truck, staring longingly out the window. Matt was worried because she’s usually this bubbly, talkative, ray of sunshine that puts a smile on everyone’s faces. That wasn’t the case at the moment.

“Everything okay?” he asked, concerned about his friend.

“Not exactly.”

“Talk to me, Sylvie. What’s going on?”

“With my car in the shop now, I don’t know how I’m gonna get to the firehouse. I can’t walk because my apartment is too far away. I could always take the bus, but that isn’t always the cleanest—“ Sylvie knew she was rambling a mile a minute, but Matt didn’t seem to mind. He interrupted her anyway because her rambles tended to go off topic quite a bit.

“Sylvie,” she turned around to look at those gorgeous blue eyes, “you don’t have to worry about a thing.” She was confused. “I’ll pick you up and take you to work until your car’s out of the shop.”

“Really? You would do that?”

“Anything for you.” He sure as hell meant it too. God, just when she couldn’t fall more in love with him than she already is, she ends up doing just that.

“Thank you.” Matt nodded. He pulled his truck in to park at Molly’s. Time flew by really fast in the span of the conversation they were having. Both of them walked in together, which received different looks from their friends. Stella and Kelly shared a smirk, Mouch had a look of confirmation, Herrmann was baffled, and everyone else just wasn’t paying attention to what was going on. It didn’t mean anything, they tried telling them, but none of them were buying it one bit.

————————————————————————————————

True to his word, Matt was right outside Sylvie’s apartment on time the next morning to take her to shift. He had fresh coffee waiting inside the passenger cup holder for her, which was something she appreciated greatly. They would talk about anything and everything under the sun from how his construction jobs were going to the latest Taylor Swift album.

The truck ride wasn’t a temporary thing though. Even after Sylvie’s car got out of the shop, she would continue riding with Matt because it was more fun and no one has ever had coffee waiting for her until this became a daily occurrence.

If this is how Sylvie gets treated after something happens to her vehicle, maybe her car should break down more often.

[hardyimagines]

Part 1 - Intruder

Hi could would you be interested in writing a Bane fic were he and one or two of his men need to hideout, and they come across this home kinda of hidden away or in an isolated area and a girl lives there on her own. He decides to keep her alive and eventually they fall for each other. I'd also like him to to be kinda mean and dominant. + She has to stay in main room with bane so he can make sure she doesn't escape😉 I'm sensing a smutty imagine. I like my bane a Dom with choking of course. I don't ask for much do I 🤣🤣

Part 2

———————————————————————

The mountains were tall, overlooking the lit city. Lights lined the buildings for the Christmas season, various shades of red and green. Trees twinkled with applied lights and music played in the distance, tempting people to come to their establishments and enjoy the holiday season. Bane straightened on the cliff. The jacket he wore was bulky with a line of fur, but it wasn’t doing much to protect him from the cold air that whipped around him and his men. Beneath his boots, pebbles and stones bounced from the impact of his shoe and rolled off the side of the ledge, falling down, down, down until they met the ground. It was probably a seventy foot drop. Bane wasn’t on the run. He was never on the run, he didn’t have to worry about someone overpowering him, but he did need a place to sleep at night and because his home had been invaded by the scum of the earth, he couldn’t exactly return there.

“Boss.” The shorter one of his men spoke up. His name was Oscar. “Don’t see no lights on.” He informed his leader. They needed a place to stay for the night, it didn’t matter if it was cold as well and didn’t have any source of heat, at least there would be a roof over their head. This had been the perfect spot. It was high, up out of most people’s eye line and it looked worn and abandoned. The exterior needed a lot of work done and the man was sure that the interior was just the same, but he didn’t care. Not tonight. Tonight, he just needed a bed. Bane’s boots hit the floor loudly as he made his way up the rest of the path and toward the front door. It was silent, not even the wind dared to whistle. He extended his arm, hand curling around the rusted handle before he twisted it. The wood opened without much force and creaked due to the rusted, stiff hinges. He rubbed his lips together before looking around the room. It was dusty and dark, impossible to see anything. He set his hand on the wall, tracing the soft wallpaper until his pointer finger skimmed the light switch. He flicked it on and froze at the sight.

The sink was lined with dirty dishes and it was void of a faucet. Ants raced along the countertop, no doubt fighting to get speckles and crumbs from the remaining food on the plates. Cabinets were opened here and there and the floor looked as if it were in desperate need of a deep cleansing. But Bane wasn’t fussy about any of that, no, he was a little more worried about the girl fast asleep at the kitchen table.

Your hair fell across the surface in messy waves. Despite the filthy home, you didn’t look anywhere near as bad as the place did. He squinted toward you, inspecting your features. You looked just fine. Oscar exchanged a look with Larry, Bane’s other helper, before looking back toward you. He figured this was just a bonus. They had a hostage, something to play with while they waited for morning. But bane had no intentions of harming you — scaring you, maybe, but only so you’d comply. They needed to stay here at least for the night, so they’d be doing that. Whether you said yes or not.

Bane’s thigh bumped the table on accident and the wooden legs wobbled threateningly. The motion startled your slumbering form and scared you even further when your eyes fluttered open. Glistening pools of curiosity and fear latched on to the bald man’s blue eyes. His lips twitched before dragging upwards. He pasted a sickeningly sweet smile on his lips and set his large palm down on the dirty table. A hostage wasn’t a part of the plan, but he was to expect the unexpected. Running his tongue over his lips, his mouth parted as he readied himself to speak, but your sudden movement ceased his words. The chair you were sat in groaned out noisily as the legs scraped along the tile. You rose up hurriedly, breaths deep and shallow, causing your chest to rise and fall rapidly with your worried inhales and exhales. Bane watched you under a heated gaze. No fear danced in his orbs. Why would it? He wasn’t on his own. He didn’t have someone breaking in and waking him. You swallowed thickly, unable to get a single word of question or a believable threat out. Instead, you stood glued to the spot, fingers shaking as your body followed suit.

“Look at her, boss, she’s trembling.” Oscar spoke up. The man was smaller than the surrounding occupants of the room, but that didn’t stop him from being confident enough to approach. The black vest he wore matched his dark trousers. Around his waist, he had a holster and tucked away inside was no doubt a dangerous weapon. You quivered. The soles of your feet scraped the wooden floors as you backed up. He neared without hesitation. “Come here, darling, I don’t bite.”

Run. Your brain pleaded. Cry. Your mind screamed. Beg. Your brain warned. They were going to kill you. Why else were they here? The small bloke grabbed ahold of your wrist and twisted it painfully around your back. His strength didn’t match his stature so it took you by surprise. You weren’t a fighter though. You were quiet, kept to yourself. Obedient. Sweet. Gentle. Too pure for the pain and heartache that the world offered to the city below. That’s why you lived on your own in a dump. Nobody bothered you and you didn’t bother anybody — until now. Bane growled out softly.

“Easy.” He droned. The heavy thud of his boots was enough warning to silence the building cry in your throat. A painful tingle raced along the length of your arm, tearing at the nerves. “Let her go.” Bane demanded. Oscar did so without question. Your arm fell limply to your side. Rubbing the soreness to ease the pain would look weak and you knew that was the last thing that you needed to look right now. Bane crinkled his nose before stepping around the table and moving toward you. Fuzzy-minded and bleary-eyed from your sleep, you sniffled before looking toward him. “Do you speak?” He asked. It was then, as your brain began to register everything other than ‘intruders’, that you realized he wore a mask on his face. It embraced the lower half of him and created a loud hiss underneath his words. You had to strain your ears in order to comprehend him.

“Yes.” The tone of your voice was so soft. Soft enough to make bane want to take your tender throat in his palm and push you out the front door so you could be on your way. But that was too risky. He didn’t want the police showing up.

“Good.” He uttered. He didn’t look toward you further, he simply paced the length of the kitchen before coming to a stop at the counter. Photographs were laid out messily, some stained with unknown substances. He traced the corner of one with his finger before tonguing his cheek. “We need a place to stay.” He looked back toward you. “And we’ve chosen your house.”

“Lucky girl.” Larry chortled out. He sneered. A sickening smile resided on his lips and his eyes warned you to sleep with one eye open. Bane looked to Larry with a warning glare before moving his eyes back to you. Scaring you wasn’t going to do the trick. That was for when you disobeyed or acted like a brat. He inspected you closely. Faint freckles, gleaming hair, soft appearing skin and inviting eyes. He stepped toward you when you didn’t speak. What were you meant to say. ‘No’? A lot of good that would do you.

“It’ll just be for the night.” He assured you. There was no question in his tone. He wasn’t asking, he was telling. “Oscar and Larry.” He pointed toward the table. “Here’s your bed.” His eyes moved back to you. “And you, wherever your bed is, that’s my bed.” The fear in your eyes doubled, and the urge to grab a nearby knife was suffocatingly strong. But it would be so foolish. God knew what kind of weapon he had on him.

“I don’t..” Bane cocked a brow as you spoke up, testing you to deny him.

“Let me tell you something.” He stepped toward you. His hand lifted to your chin, fingers delicate as they traced your flesh. “It’ll do you no good to talk back or disagree. Comply and you’ll be alright.” He lowered his hand to the throat he’d wished to take ahold of earlier. “Bedroom.” He stated again. He felt your esophagus twitch beneath his palm as you swallowed. His grip wasn’t tight or hard so you drew back a step and swiftly stepped around him. He followed hot on your heels, blue eyes twinkling.

The living room was a wreck. Newspapers and old food sat in the place. Flies buzzed, flying from dish to dish to devour whatever was left behind and uneaten. Empty soda cans laid on their sides on the floor and coffee table and smoke poured from the fire place, a sign that the lit flame had died. You moved to the corridor and led him down the tan-painted hall to the bedroom at the end of the way. The door opened without so much as a creak. A bed resided in the center with a blue duvet. It wasn’t the biggest bed, but it would suffice. A window sat in the far right with a nearby vanity jammed pack with various knick-knacks. This was the cleanest room.

“It’s.. this is the only room.” You explained to him. “A.. apart from the bathroom which is just right there.” Pointing to the connected room which held a tub and a toilet, you folded your arms over your chest and slowly backed up.

“Itll do.” He told you quietly. He removed his weaponless holster and then his belt. Draping the accessories over the chair in the corner, he scratched the back of his head before looking toward you. “You can return to the dining room to sleep,” He ushered to the door with his pointer finger. “or stay here with me.” He licked his lips. “But you are to remain under someone’s watch at all times.” Your eyes flickered.

“You mean until morning?” Your question made bane frown.

“I mean.. until it’s safe to go.” His earlier words had been a brief comfort. Oscar and Larry were oblivious to the fact that they’d be hiding out here for a while. But Bane, he called they shots, so they wouldn’t complain. “You don’t get in my way and I won’t be in yours.” He pointed to the bed. “Now, you choose. Bed or table?” His hands moved along his stomach, rubbing the surface before he stepped toward the bed and climbed on to the comfy surface. You slowly followed after him. He didn’t seem to want to hurt you. Or touch you. But the other men.. you didnt trust them in the slightest. This one, you were sure, would’ve let them do as they pleaded and would’ve told you to ‘undress’ or ‘lay down’ if his intentions were to cause physical harm. But he didn’t. He laid down and shut his eyes. But you could tell he certainly wasn’t sleeping.

‘I don’t want to share a bed with you.’ ‘Get out.’ Stab him. Hit him. Run. Climb out the window. Scream as loud as possible. Your mind warned you to do this and that, urged you to get out and away, but you didn’t. Anxiety raced through your body and made you fidget. The quiet sound of your feet padding against the floor told Bane that you’d chosen to stay with him, and when the bed began to jiggle beneath your applied weight, it merely confirmed his initial assumption.

There wasn’t much space, but the two of you managed. He was slumped on his back and you were laid on your side, elbow folded beneath your head to act as an extra pillow. The duvet was crumpled beneath his body and the pillows were crookedly placed. You didn’t want to ask him to move though so you could curl up, so instead, you shivered at his side. So many questions filled your head. You wanted answers, but your throat was dry, tight, and it was impossible to get even a squeak of sound out. You squirmed slightly, legs accidentally skimming his own now and then. He didn’t say anything and you didn’t either. Little mumbled apologies were vacant and he didn’t offer to scoot over to give you more room.

He was so tired. He’d been on his feet all day. Bane knew it was rather foolish to fall asleep so quickly, leaving himself vulnerable to you, but there was no controlling the situation — and you, even if you had the courage to harm him, wouldn’t.

———

The embarrassment of the filthy home hit you in the morning. The sun was rising in the distance, it’s rays beginning to pour through open windows to wake the slumbering people, tucked away in their beds. You’d managed to leave the bedroom, undetected and had had about an hour to clean. The other two men who’d come along with the bald one in your bedroom were nowhere to be seen, so you’d taken advantage of their absence. The kitchen table was scrubbed clean and the dishes in the sink were halfway done. You knew it was foolish to worry about cleaning so the intruders didn’t find you repelling, but it was more than that. It was just the judgement that bothered you - it didn’t matter who it came from.

What a poor choice to leave the room without the man in the mask.

Their fingers were rough in your hair as they twisted and tugged, fighting over you. Your hipbones dug roughly into the counter you were learn against, Larry tugging you toward him as he shouted at Oscar. ‘I got first dibs, let her go’, he insisted. Oscar would then yank on you harder, bruising your scalp more so than Larry was. You winced. You pleaded. You moaned out. Internally, you begged for their boss to wake seeing as last night he didn’t seem like he was here to deal with any shenanigans. You moaned out again when Oscar lost his grip on your hair and your body was thrown into Larry’s. He didn’t have an amazing grip though either because the suddenness of your body against his made him topple over and to the floor.

Run. You did. Fool. To the bedroom. Why hadn’t you gone to the front door? Oscar was hot on your heels, sprinting along behind you to try and get to you before you could get to Bane. The door to your bedroom was thrown open roughly. The sound of it was enough to wake the man on the bed, but if it hadn’t of done it then your weight, slung on top of his own, would’ve. Bane woke with a straight face, but internally he was stunned. He sat up tiredly, eyes squinted and brows furrowed in confusion. He looked to you, curled up in a small ball at his side as a panting Oscar stood in the doorway with angry eyes and a fling of regret. And then revenge. You shifted, fearfully cowering away.

Bane sat up further, shielding you from the piercing gaze of Oscar.

“Out.” He ordered harshly. The man in the door obeyed. He twisted around and left the room without so much as an apology. The booming voices, belonging to Oscar and Larry were suddenly overlapping. Arguing. Fighting because they knew they were in trouble. Idiots. “Are you alright?” His question was dripping with concern, but it was genuine. He stood from the mattress, beginning to re-dress in the attire he’d removed the previous night.

“Your men..” You started before falling silent. This wouldn’t help. He was aware of what happened. He didn’t need a play-by-play. “I’m fine.” You whispered out. He nodded. Bane didn’t have time for this. Trouble was following and because he wasn’t a runner, he was a confronter, he needed to know what was happening at all times. Having to go down the hall and shout at grown men for trying to mess around with a younger, female hostage — it just pissed him off. It didn’t help in the slightest, it just slowed him down. He zipped the vest up before leaving the room to handle what has woken him. You curled up on your side and buried your face into your pillow before letting your eyes shut. Your fingers crossed slowly, a silent pray for the men in your dining room to leave today. What would you do if bane came back in and told you they had to stay for more time than he’d said last night. A day, okay. But any more than that.. you didn’t know what would happen.

It was then, in that moment that you realized you were on your own. You climbed off the bed hurriedly, bane’s words playing over and over in your head about how you would always be under someone’s watch. The doors to your closet opened with a loud creak. Your dainty fingers wrapped in a yellow blouse, yanking it out before you then grabbed a pair of jeans. Practically tearing your pajamas from your body, you struggled to move at a quick pace, clothing yourself in something much more appropriate before the return of Bane. And if you had time.. maybe you could get out the cracked window. It was only two stories high. Not too far of a jump. But the sudden sound of thudding boots in the hall made you freeze. Clad only in your underwear, blouse, and a pair of socks, you whimpered out in sudden anxiousness. The attempt to pull on your trousers while also watching the door was poor. Bane was seconds away from stumbling into the room to check on you and you.. well your jeans were only halfway on.

“Alright,” He spoke before he was even in the room. “I’m sorry about that, they’re both absolute idiots.” He continued to talk, his rough voice carrying down the length of the hall. “But you,” He turned the corner, just as you fastened the button on the front of your slacks. “are to tell me if they bother you again. I’ll ensure it doesn’t happen again.” It wasn’t going to anyway. Neither of them would even think about doing vile things to you after what he’d said to them. His tongue pushed against his cheek, hidden by the plastic mask on his face. “But, unfortunately for you,” He inhaled deeply, blue eyes locking on to your own as he stood in the doorway. “We are going to be here for at least a few more days.”

Your body ran hot. Skin on fire. Mouth run dry. The shiver that raced along your spine made you feel weak. No arguing, no complaining, no disagreeing. He wasn’t asking. He was telling. And all you could do was nod. You didn’t have a choice.

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Tagged: @peakblogbecauseimweak @bsotstory @mollybegger-blog @morphoportis @ghost-of-student-sufferings @drippydownes2002 @ellar21 @sovereigngoth @willowick13 @xxxxxeroxxxxx @wheresthewater @anrm1 @pansexualginger @marvelgirl7 @evilspretty-dead @heyitscam99 @wow-he-cute @haroldpain @justrepostandlove @sparklyreaderx @emerald-bijou @multireality @innerpaperexpertcloud @giftofdreams @ihclipse @meer0rauschen @inkedfandom @thatsamegirl @doct0rstrange @jakechillenhaal @shanty-lol @centerhabit @clevertheoristpainter @jamierdr @favouritereadings @badmaax @thephuonganh @wewillfindourwaythere @uhhhemilyrose @scarrasco1325 @matoki-darkpanda @bignastyfan-nz

[arsenicpanda]

Ok, so, tumblr fucking ATE MY ASK, but @hellodinoflower asked for #7, #8, and #37 for the Writer’s Meme like a month ago, so here we go.

7.)  Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Ok, from chapter 1 of The Looming Fog and Other Strange Happenings:

For the past five years, Jughead Jones had loudly argued that Arkham was haunted. The exact words he had used were “an unholy seat of unknowable, otherworldly horrors,” but “haunted” had been close enough for most of Jughead’s friends, family, and displeased acquaintances. Betty listened to him long enough to drag him off to explore one of the abandoned houses that littered Arkham, but Betty was a better person than most and also very, very into the investigative aspects of it, so he didn’t question it.

But now that a fog loomed over the city, covering it in a pungent yet sweet stench unlike any earthly smell, and every tree bled maple syrup, it was becoming increasingly clear that Jughead was right about Arkham. And no one was happy that Jughead was right about Arkham because it meant Jughead was smug about being right about Arkham. And a smug Jughead Jones was unbearable to everyone except FP, who found it endearing, and Betty, who found it one part annoying, two parts attractive.

(No one was particularly pleased with Betty either, as she had been determinedly arguing on the side of "Arkham is a city of nightmares and eldritch terrors" for a good two months now. She had the grace not to look smug, but she did have a certain “I told you so” air about her that others described as “bordering on insufferable” and Jughead considered “beyond attractive.”)

I’m actually pretty fond of this whole chapter, which definitely has a different vibe from the rest of the fic but whatever, but this is my favorite part.  For one, I called Jughead believing insane things about his town before season 3 even aired.  This was July 2018, baby!  For another, I like describing people who know Jughead but aren’t close to him as “displeased acquaintances”.  But mainly, I like the part where Betty and Jughead are attracted to parts of each other that others would call character flaws.  I just feel it’s very them.

8.)  Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Ok, from (day)dreams can come true, here’s one of the cleanest parts I could find (I’m quite fond of the whole fic, to the point that I held off on answering this until I could finish and publish it).  It’s kinda long because I wanted to get the whole part, but still, here:

He stumbles back to sit on the bed. “Fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard.”Fand “Me either,” she says, still panting and reeling from her orgasm.

He looks down at his hands, his left covered in left-over lotion and his right in come. Wiping his left hand off on his leg, he stares at his right while flexing it. “But it was really reckless. I almost came on the window.”

“Mm, I like you reckless,” she says blissfully, and he looks up and smiles at her.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

They’re silent for a while, but as she begins to come down from her high, she realizes everything they just said, and she can’t but blush. Thinking back to his words at the end, she fidgets a bit, trying to build her confidence up to ask, “When I...That is, did you…”

“When you…?”

“When I...came...Did you like it?” she asks, voice small despite herself, and she looks away.

“Betty. Look at me,” he says, and he sounds so gentle, the way he does when he squeezes her shoulder in comfort and wraps her up in his arms. She always feels safe when he uses that voice.

She turns back to him, and his eyes are warm and smiling, she can see it even from here. “It was p—It was better than anything anyone could ever imagine.”

“That’s not what I—”

“I loved it. I love—” and he stumbles over himself here, though she doesn’t know why, “—d it.”

“You were pretty great to see too,” she tells him with renewed confidence.

“Oh, uh, thank, thank you,” he mutters, and now he’s the one to look away red-faced.

They sit in silence again as Betty tries to process everything that just happened, everything they said, if anything is different. It’s comfortable somehow, only slightly awkward despite the lewdness of what they just did.

“Hey, do you...do you want to go to Pop’s?” His voice would sound casual to most people, but she can hear the nervousness mixed with hope and her heart aches for him and oh, this boy.

For context, this is post 1x10 when Jughead is still living with Archi, and Betty and Jughead just had phone sex while staring at each other jerking off through each other’s windows.  For starters, I got to answer “Why does he say she likes him reckless?” and that was fun.  But more than that, I like having them go from the confidence that comes with overwhelming horniness to a certain increased vulnerability in the aftermath.  Betty is increasingly comfortable with her sexuality, but is Jughead comfortable with it?  The answer is hell yes, don’t worry, Betty, and I enjoyed that.  I liked getting to have Jughead almost call her perfect--because hell yeah, that’s a pretty perfect scenario for a horny teenager--just because he knows she hates the word.  Also, the little dumbass almost confessed his love to her, and I find that hilarious.  But ultimately, this is just another part of them, so why not go to Pop’s?  It’s like it’s normal, even though, yeah, no, guys, that’s not a normal thing to do.

Also, this doesn’t fit as dialogue or prose, but I’m going to include it anyway as a bonus because it’s one of my favorite things I’ve ever written.  From wet dreams may come:

But BettyBettyBetty spills from his lips as he spills into his hand.

He stares at the shame coating his fingers and palm. Would she lick it off him, hungry for his cum and with that look of fondness in her eyes as she fingers—

“I’m so fucked up.”

Ok, two things:

1.) I love “spills from his lips as he spills into his hand”.  It’s not quite a zeugma--I couldn’t make it work as one without it being mega awkward, unfortunately--but it’s close!  I just really like the way it sounds.  It kept repeating in my head, very insistent, and it’s one of two things that got me to sit down and write this fic.

2.) Do you know how much I love that I got to include “I’m so fucked up”?  No, of course not, because like five of you watch anime.  Ok, so this is from an (in)famous (and perhaps even iconic) scene in The End of Evangelion, where our protagonist Shinji masturbates to completion over his not-friend/ally/whatever Asuka’s comatose body in the hospital and then feels bad because you’re goddamn right you should.  It’s not an in-universe reference because if Jughead was an anime guy, we would very much know by now because he would be annoying about it.

But I felt it was a very Jughead thing to have that level of dramatic reaction to having some (very) explicit fantasies about Betty--a girl he’s been crazy about for years and only just started dating--because he feels it violates her privacy somehow.  Like, it’s not that he thinks she’s ~pure~, but that he thinks it’s not his place because their relationship isn’t like that yet.  It made sense that that would be his feeling, and I feel the allusion hammers that home.  Bonus: I got to come back to that, to a certain extent, in (day)dreams can come true, where Jughead is having his own interior struggles with what’s ok to do and to say.

37.  Talk about your current wips.

Ok, how are we defining WIPs?  Because the only thing that’s partially published is The Looming Fog and Other Strange Happenings, and I have no idea how to unstick myself from that one.  I want Betty’s chapter to be having an adventure with Kevin in the woods, but I’m not sure what they should be doing there.  Also, ultimately, I’m not a horror writer or even reader, really, so I’ve got some self-consciouness there.  It’s a pity, because I like what bit of her plot I have, and I actually finished Kevin’s chapter, which I very much enjoy.

As for other things in the works, I’ve got two smut and one fluff-ish, the latter of which I summed up here, but who knows if they’ll ever be finished.  I’ll say this about the smut fics though: Bret, Donna, and the sex tape are involved.

[distant-rose]

Seal of Fate Prologue (1/8)

Notes: Hi guys! I know I haven’t updated in awhile but I decided to do it with a multi chapter fic. Why? Because I’m insane. Anyway, this is my entry for Captain Swan Supernatural Summer. I hope you enjoy it. I apologise for the late posting on this, I’m visiting friends in Toronto at the moment. I’m hoping to update this fic every Saturday around 5-6pm EST. Please note this hot mess is un-beta’d. I know this prologue feels like an info dump but it’s setting the stage - hence why it’s a prologue. I promise there’s Killian next week. Anyway, special thanks to the admins of @cssns for organising this. Thank you to @welllpthisishappening, @katie-dub and @shireness-says for being my rocks and constant cheerleaders. And last but not least, thank you to @drowned-dreamer for being my amazing artist whose work will be showcased next week when Killian shows up next week. Summary: Emma Swan is looking for only one thing - answers. Abandoned outside a police station in Menemsha, Martha’s Vineyard, Emma has dedicated her life to finding out where she comes from and why she was given away. She finds an unlikely partner in Killian, a selkie she inadvertently summons in a fit of frustration over her cold case. Word Count: 2,700+ Chapters: Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Epilogue Rating: T+

Emma Swan groaned as she escaped from the driver’s seat of her ancient Volkswagen Bug and immediately pulled her arms into a long stretch. It had been a long drive from Maine to Massachusetts and apparently all the moving around she had done on the ferry from the mainland to her destination had been cancelled out by the last forty-five minutes she had spent driving from the ferry to her final destination - the small secluded town of Menemsha.

Scanning her surroundings, Emma had to say she was less than impressed. It wasn’t so much of a town as much as a scattering of Cape Cod styled buildings and fishing shacks. There didn’t seem to be a soul around, but then again, she was visiting a bourgeoise tourist trap out of season. It was better this way. After all, Emma wasn’t here for vacation.

She was here on a mission.

Grabbing her bag and closing the car door, Emma headed towards the large building that sat nearly on top of the marina. It was a fairly old building but well-taken care of with a fresh white paint job and newly cleaned windows. The large sign posted in front of the property claimed it was “Granny’s Diner” but Emma was fairly certain it was built originally to be a more residential property than a restaurant.

The establishment was as sparsely populated as the street. There were only three other patrons; grizzled and sullen men who were crowded around a small table by the window that looked out onto the sea. They eyed her warily as she walked towards one of the booths toward the back of the diner but she made a point to ignore them.

As soon as she sat down, a pretty dark haired waitress with vivid red highlights approached her with a small smile that was a shade more inquisitive than Emma would have liked.

“Can I get you some coffee?” the waitress asked, waving an ancient-looking coffee pot in emphasis.

“I prefer hot chocolate,” she replied before glancing up at the clock located above the breakfast bar, scrunching her nose when she realised she has made quicker time in her travels than expected. It was eleven-thirty and her contact wouldn’t be here for another thirty minutes. “Is too early to order lunch?”

The waitress glanced around the diner before looking back at Emma with a wry smile.

“Normally we don’t do lunch until noon but considering that there’s no one here, I think we’ll be willing to make a special exception. What do you want?”

“A grilled cheese and onion rings instead of fries will do.”

The waitress looked almost amused by the order, a smile quirking at her lips as she scribbled it down. Emma merely rolled her eyes in response. She had heard many a remark about her child-like diet in the past but she liked comfort food and the opportunity to eat it was few and far in-between. Private investigation wasn’t as lucrative as it sounded, especially when located in the sleepy state of Maine.

After a few moments, the waitress walked away to bring Emma’s order to the kitchen, only stopping to give the band of men at the other end round of good-natured bantering. The interaction merely confirmed her suspicions about the little fishing village. Everyone probably knew everyone. It was something that Emma hoped would help with her mission.

The waitress returned with her hot chocolate a few moments later with a reassurance that her food would be out within minutes. Emma gave her a brisk thank you, dismissing her with a nod and taking time to drink in more of the diner.

The place looked like it hadn’t been decorated since the fifties with its bold red vinyl seats and monochrome tiling. There was a large jukebox and an ancient looking gumball machine located near the door. Emma was willing to bet her last pay check that there wouldn’t be a single made before 1965 on it. Despite its rather dated decor, it was probably the cleanest greasy spoon that she had never been in.

While the diner had a homey feel to it, its patrons were a lot less welcoming. The men at the other end of the diner were still blatantly staring at her with undisguised suspicion. Unwilling to let herself be intimidated, Emma met their stare with one of her own, locking eyes with a grumpy looking gentleman as she sipped on her hot chocolate. A small surge of pride curled in her chest when the man looked away, obviously uncomfortable and turned to begin talking to his cohorts in hushed whispers.

“Don’t let those knuckleheads get you,” the waitress said when she returned with Emma’s order. “They’re a bunch of old gossips. We don’t get a lot of traffic here in the off-season so strangers are bit exciting to us.”

“I figured,” Emma replied, watching in confusion as the waitress placed down another plate containing a large burger and fries on the table before swinging into the opposite seat. “Um, I know I’m not from around here but is it normal for you to sit and eat with strangers?”

“No,” the waitress replied casually, picking up the burger to take a bite. “But I kinda wanted to get a feel on you.”

“Why?”

“Well, you are Emma Swan, aren’t you?”

“Depends on who's asking...” Emma responded warily after a moment, trying not to let her hackles rise.

“I’m Ruby Lucas.” She held out her hand to shake. “You’re renting out my house for the next two months. Lucky you did that when you did, I was about to take it down for the season. I generally don’t rent it out post-September but I couldn’t resist the extra cash.”

Emma’s shoulders relaxed at this information. She captured Ruby’s hand in a brief shake before leaning back. She popped an onion ring into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “So, you’re Ruby.”

“I am.”

“You’re not what I expected,” she admitted, wiping at her mouth with the sleeve of her jacket absently.

When Emma had looked at the advertisement online, she had assumed that Ruby was far older considering the sleuth of rules and regulations that had come with the rental. They weren’t necessarily unreasonable, but Emma had expected them to be picked from the mind of a finicky old lady rather than the vibrant young woman in front of her.

“Neither are you. Though I can’t say I had a lot of expectations. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a person renting out a beach house in October and November in Cape Cod, let alone in Memensha. It’s kinda why I wanted to meet you here and get a feel, make sure you’re not a drug dealer or something.”

Emma’s eyebrows rose at her words. “You get a lot of those around here?”

“You have no idea,” she replied darkly, stabbing a french fry into a pool of ketchup with more force than necessary. “The island is kinda a hub for them in the summer. They generally come through the docks here because there isn’t much regulation despite all the petitions to Gold.”

“Gold?”

“Yeah, Mr. Gold. Owns the docks as well as the biggest shipping company in the village. Might as well own all of Martha’s Vineyard while he’s at it. He doesn’t care much for rules unless they’re his own,” Ruby said bitterly. “I don’t mean to bore you with local issues but they’re good things to note considering you’re gonna be here awhile.”

“I appreciate it,” Emma replied with a casual shrug, filing away the information.

Ruby leaned back, giving her another assessing look. Emma merely nibbled at her sandwich, waiting for the moment to pass. She didn’t have to wait long, as Ruby dropped her elbows on the table alongside her pretenses.

“So. What’s your story? Tortured artist? Romance writer? You’re not really like Janet Evanovich or something right? I love her books even if the plot gets a little repetitive.”

Emma snorted. “No. I’m not a writer. Private investigator actually.”

“Sounds exciting. What the hell are you doing here?” Ruby asked, eyes widening in surprise at her own rudeness. “Sorry that came out wrong. I didn’t mean to be such a bitch.”

“You weren’t. It’s okay,” Emma assured her with a forced smile. “It’s not like you weren’t going to find out anyway. I’m here on a case.”

“Case? In Menemsha? Are you looking for something? Because I’m pretty sure you won’t find it here. Nothing is here except fish and the occasional heroin crisis.”

“Not something. Someone,” she replied carefully, playing with her food and not looking directly at her.

Ruby sucked in a breath loudly, causing Emma to look up at her. “You’re not looking for David Nolan are you?”

“No. I’m not, at least I don’t think so. Who is he?”

Ruby visibly relaxed, eyes darting to the other end of the diner to make sure that the other patrons weren’t listening in on their conversation. She then leaned further forward and then spoke in a harsh whisper.

“David is this guy who went missing awhile back. My grandmother was good friends with his mother Ruth and he actually used to work in the diner. He just up and left one day, which good on him because this place is a shithole...but Ruth has never quite accepted that he left...kept saying there was foul play involved and hiring people to look for him. She died last week.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Emma replied, unsure what to do with the information.

“It’s fine. I didn’t really know her much. She was kinda crazy, you know? I just wanted to make sure you weren’t chasing after something you weren’t going to get paid for. Don’t want to waste your time here if you don’t have to.”

“Appreciate it. But I’m not sure David Nolan is connected to my case.”

“If you’re not looking for him, then who the hell are you looking for? Because he’s the only missing person I can think of.”

“It’s a bit of a cold case but I’m trying to track down anything anyone knows about a baby that was found outside the police station here in October 1983.”

“What’s so special about the baby?”

Emma couldn’t help but bristle at the question, squirming in her seat and scrunching her shoulders as she tried to keep her emotions in check. It wasn’t as if Ruby knew how personal this was for her.

“It’s not so much the baby. I know where she is. It’s her parents that I’m trying to find.”

“Why?”

“So, she can look them in the eye and ask them that exact question.”

Their conversation dwindled from there as they focused on their meals. When they finished, Ruby took away their plates and returned with keys in her hand.

“Ready to go?”

Emma eyed the other patrons before looking back at her. “Aren’t you, like, working right now?”

“Oh yeah, working super hard on three people who come here everyday and drink all of our coffee. They’re big boys and can handle a coffee machine on their own.” Ruby snorted.

“You trust them behind the counter?”

“If anything goes missing, I know who took it. There’s like barely more than 400 people in this village.”

Emma held her hands up in surrender, unwilling to question her anymore before following her out into the street.

“Do you need me to drive?” She asked, eying the main road to where it disappeared up the bend.

Ruby laughed, shaking her hand in dismissal. “No, it’s no more than a fifteen minute walk. You can walk all of Menemsha in about twenty-five minutes, no joke. Like I said, it’s tiny.”

They walked up the main drag until it broke into a fork. Emma knew from the drive down that one path lead to the main route that circled the island while the other hugged the coast and seemed to lead to more residential homes. Emma eyed the cottages that lined up neatly to face out towards the ocean. They looked incredibly cute but she knew from her perusal of the rental site that they cost more than a fortune. When she relied this to Ruby, the other woman gave her a bitter smile.

“Nearly everyone who lives here works for the three main fishing families - the Golds, the Hermans and the Spencers, the Golds being the largest. They cut pay last year to make up for a bad fishing season which doesn’t help when you’re barely making enough as is. So, renting out properties in the summer becomes a primary source of income for these people. You can’t blame them for it really and if people are willing to shell out that type of cash for a week in this hellhole, I don’t see the harm.”

“Huh,” Emma replied before sucking in a breath as she caught sight of the large house at the end of the road. Ruby followed her gaze, smile turning into a scowl.

“Ah, that’s where the Devil himself lives.”

“The Devil?”

“Gold.”

The house, if it could never be called that, was ten times the size of the cottages that lined the street with a Greco-styled terrace porch that screamed opulence. The lawn was manicured with a meticulously managed garden hugged the perimeter of the property.

It was a gorgeous building and would have belonged on the front cover of any real estate magazine if it weren’t for the large rack located on the front lawn covered in dark furred pelts. Emma didn’t know what type of animal they belonged to but looking at them sent a cold shiver down her spine.

“What are those?”

“Seal pelts,” Ruby responded with no small amount of disgust. “Mr. Gold loves to hunt them and show off their pelts like they’re trophies.”

“I take it you’re fan of seals?”

“Not particularly. They’re cute and all but they’re supposed to be protected. Killing them is a literal crime.”

“Why doesn’t anyone do anything about it?”

“Because no one wants to lose their jobs. A few dead seals aren’t worth going hungry. Listen, Emma, this place isn’t like anywhere on the mainland. We don’t work the same way. I’m not saying we’re lawless but certain people are untouchable. Gold is one of them and I know you’re just passing through, but I’m telling you right now, avoid him if you can. And if you can’t, it’s best not to get on his bad side.”

“Duly noted.”

“I’m being serious.”

“Alright, alright, don’t mess with the creepy seal killer. I got the message. Loud and clear.”

They stopped in front of a two-story house that was buttercup yellow and built the standard Cape Cod style. Though it was three houses down from Gold’s creepy seal skin display, there was cheery aura to the place that Emma appreciated.

“You like it?”

“It’s cute.”

“I thought you would like it since it’s the same color as your car. The inside is just as nice.”

Ruby unlocked the front door, leading them inside. The house was sparse in its decorating but just as light and cheery as the exterior.

“Will it do?”

“Yeah. It’s great.”

“Good. Just letting you know the place does have heat but if it gets too chilly, there’s a space heater in the basement. There’s a washing machine down there too but it’s old so be gentle with it.”

“Okay,” Emma nodded, giving her an assuring smile. “Thanks.”

“And don’t hesitate to contact me if you need anything. If you don’t feel like cooking, you’re always welcome at Granny’s. I’ll give you a discount.”

“Thanks Ruby. Really.”

“No problem,” she said as she walked back towards the door. She paused when she reached, looking back at Emma with a perplexed expression. “And good luck with your case. I hope everything works out for that woman who hired you.”

Emma gave forced another smile and thanked her again. She relaxed as soon as the door closed, dropping her head against the wall and sighing heavily.

It was going to be a long two months.

[edierone]

My Fic: Masterpost

revised 3/29/18

Organized by category, with the most recent listed first in each.

Under the cut for scrollability, but my own faves include: 

Gravidity Part 1  Part 2 

Antes de la Guerra

Melting With You

 The Things She Carries

 Titan Arum

 In Herba Veritas

 Anyone Who Disappears Is Said to Be Seen in San Francisco

 Apres le Deluge (rpf)

Touched Out (rpf)

XF:

Gravidity Part 1 S11: Here she is, in the cleanest stall this Target had to offer, four different brands of pregnancy test unsheathed and ready to go. *** Part 2 The weight of the secret divides and multiplies, grows like the cells knitting themselves together inside her.

In the Trench Part 1, Part 2 He’ll handwrite his thank-you note to London Fog on the flight.

Antes de la Guerra He saw that they were together against the world, and decided to teach them how to fight

Love and Bearclaws Scully’s verbal typo reveals a deeper truth

Satin is Overrated He likes her in his shirt

Course Correction Very early on, Scully ends one relationship and saves another

He Is Risen Easter morning, revival era, sweet fluff w/creamy center

There Were Others; Ed Jerse wasn’t the only one

Sunday Scully A sweet ficlet inspired by art by @flurgburgler

Melting With You From the fic prompt: “It’s just rain, you aren’t gonna melt.”

I’m a Very Lucky Girl Scully overhears some chatter in the ladies’ room at the Hoover Building

A Very Dirty Way to Get Clean A hot & smutty shower, the day after the first night

The Things She Carries Master post w/all parts Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9 A long misunderstanding about one hot night

Truth, Dare, and the Scientific Method my entry in the Undercover fic challenge; Scully talks blowjays

Shoved; Then Jumping post-SUZ smut & conversation

She Can Just XF Fic Writing Challenge Prompt: Redemption; cancer arc

Patholoholiday Even pathologists can party - but she misses him. Aww.

In Which “Laura” Takes “Rob” Up On It. Alone. XF Writing Challenge Prompt: Release

Titan Arum XF Writing Challenge Prompt: Tension; sometimes the past catches up with us all at once

XF, a/u or non-canon-compliant:

Until Tonight; Until tonight. She’d been his partner for only a few seasons before she’d been abducted by forces or persons still unknown; upon her return, she’d made her choice.

In Herba Veritas College AU; young Spooky & Dana get high and stargaze

Anyone Who Disappears Is Said to Be Seen in San Francisco Writing prompt: Things you said on a streetcar at 1 a.m.

Sirens, Coelacanths, and Other Sensitive Topics Writing prompt: Things you said when you met my parents

Maybe Not As His Partner Part 1 , Part 2 A question asked, then answered

Fictober: In Flagrante Parento They thought the kid was at baseball practice …

Asks/ficlet prompts:

First Time, Worst Time Mulder still had one black dress sock on.

Going Green in the Golden State 2k18 is looking UP for the Muldoon-Scullersons

Laphroaig
 She’s drunk, or close enough — so is he, though, but that hardly matters.

A Man, A Plan, A Waffle Iron Thanksgiving Friday at the UH.

Netflix and Chill, Married-Style Bingeing a series, despite the late hour.

RPF (or is it?):

Early Morning, Montreal “Are we gonna … ohhhhh … just … keep doing this?”

True Love Waits It’s a rough old world out there and a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do – but he knows she’s his

3:23 a.m., Pacific time a man, his iPhone, and his Twitter account that blows their cover

Apres le Deluge she’s been ducking his calls, but he may be the only one to make it OK

Under That Dress She still takes his calls, even in a situation like this

Just another aspect of an intensified, enjoyable adult friendship a wee meta-fic drabble

Rest Easy, Little Ones Our duo get news of one of them dating someone else

Five Emails a Year: 2006 Inspired by @avocadoave’s brilliant pic/gifset, which in turn was inspired by a post from @skywalkrr

Touched Out After a long day appearing at a convention, she’s been touched enough

[callmearcturus]

quick guide to HS shit i’ve written

The Eurydice Suite: Complete, 97,000 words. DaveKat, Rosemary, and others. A massive, sprawling Inception fusion fic, in which everyone is related to the dream extraction business. The Strider-Lalondes have a reputation for being the top tier agents until Dirk fucking traps himself in his own subconsciousness. To get him out, everyone has to form a Superteam to dive into his mind. Very, very Strilonde centric, with a lot of Karkat and Kanaya. Probably the most cinematic thing I have written. Major themes are the perils of codependence, of defining yourself by what you do, and of the problems with being married to your work.

A Spark, A Flame, A Fire: Complete, 56,000 words. DirkJake. Authorized sequel to @dirkar’s A House Built, in which Jake is a resigned ambassador living in Derse to appease the melancholic, vengeful whims of Prince Dirk. Things get extremely complicated by political intrigue, slowly kindling emotions between Jake and the entire Dersian royal family, and some twisty plot machinations. Jake-centric, but heavily focused on all the Alphas and the Derse Dreamers. major themes are struggling with duty and sacrificing yourself for the bigger picture, and when those things have to fall to the wayside. Probably the cleanest, best story I’ve done on a technical level, and one I would most rec of my shit.

pump your veins with gushing gold: Complete, 55,000 words. DirkJake. Deeply self-indulgent modern fantasy AU in which Dirk is a wanderlustful tourist trying to lose himself in disparate cities, and Jake is a summer fae boy who finds him instead. Heavy on kink elements with a strong focus on examining the twisted relationship Dirk has with self-control, and what he’s capable of. Lots of amorality and fae manipulation and magical hypnotics. Also, a frankly fucking ridiculous amount of sex. Definitely not for everyone but hopefully a fun read for people into dubious shit like I am.

chamomile, rose water, and other unlikely intoxicants: Complete, 86,000 words. DirkJake. Another twisted fairy tale, this time a somewhat uncomfortable mediation on the Fable of the Year King and Dirk Strider’s... resilience in the face of certain death, and well as Jake’s raw incandescent determination. Fairly fucking entrenched in bullshit made up domestic magic and hardcore Hurt/Comfort. Could be reinterpreted as a protracted “fuck you” to seasonal affective disorder and way depression steals time from people. Also, probably the most balls to the wall happiest ending I’ve ever written.

you can only take what you can carry to the edge of the sea: In progress, currently 63K, will probably come close to 100K upon completion. DirkJake, heavily Alpha-centric. Jane, Dirk, and Roxy are a magi-scientific research team that gets wind of a hidden, intensely magical island that’s steeped in old ruins, mysteries, and an amphibious almost-merman who’s never met people before in his life. It’s a fucking TRIP, with a lot of xeno stuff as well as deep dives into magical society bullshit, particularly revolving around Dirk’s status as a magically inert “noble.” Very much a kink grab bag and not for the, uh, unadventurous. Will be continued soon.

THERE, HAVE AN UNSOLICITED CHEATSHEET. I have written a fucking metric shitton of fic, so you might find something you like? 

/laughs.

[goldenscript]

HEY HEY it’s fine, your health always comes first! my friday was really interesting and today i finally went grocery shopping so there’s that. how’s your weekend so far? LMAO UR LITERALLY ME. i often feel detached from people or even myself but it takes .0000081 seconds for a tear to slip out when im reading or watching anime. omg i cried sm the second season of haikyuu bc like.. my baby oiks deserved to go to nationals man, seijoh deserved to go ;-; dont get me wrong i was sooo proud of (1/?)

our crows but like.. oikawa!!! i watched a couple episodes of avatar yesterday and i already love how flawed zuko is, you can see it right from the start. i already know what happens tho okay HAHAH. AND GIRL IM SO HYPED FOR INFINITY WAR!! LIKE aSDJD I CANT EVEN EXPRESS HOW I FEEL, SHIT’S BOUT TO GO DOWN. WHICH REMINDS ME, BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA IS SET IN A UNIVERSE WITH SUPERHEROES AND IT’S HONESTLY V CUTE. which ALSO reminds me i had a fic draft about how an ex-superhero mc who’s next door (2/?)             

who’s next door neighbors with a notorious anti-hero (superrrr orig ik, i was like in 9th grade ok i’m cringing) and she finds out about him through some funny circumstances bc for one, she’s not dumb. she can piece it together. she lost her powers in some way and is trynna adjust to reg human life and she doesn’t want anything to do with playing hero anymore bc of uh “PLOT.” shit happens. never got past the 3rd chapter lol which made me realize that long fics weren’t for me, i lose (3/?)

motivation too fast but it just sucks bc idk how to condense it enough for it to be a oneshot. when i randomly write, they still hit up to 20k so I DONT KNOW?? maybe i just write too much. i’m just as disorganized as i was 4-5 years ago ;; AH FF(.)net AND QUOTEV. GOOD OL’ TIMES. the first fic i read was about infinite’s woohyun bc he was my bby at the time lmaooo. and wow  i’d love to read your revamped fics and whatever else you have in mind!! the thing about fantasy is that it’s so broad (4/?)        

u can literally do anything with it!! LMAO WELL I MEAN TBRH IT’S JUST BTS but HM WHO DO YOU THINK MAtCHES THE JOB DESCRIPTIONS?? wink wink. ALSO sorry that i talk so much omg u must hate reading my messages lmao i feel like i always have a lot to say (5/5!!!)  -sjsu    

lemme just say that i don’t hate getting your messages at all ok!!!!!!!!!!!! i feel like i have a lot to say especially when the topics are within my interests and girl talking to me abt cringey fanfics, ugly crying over sports anime, & black panther are perfect enough reasons to babble over! i promise!!!!!!!! i look forward to talking to you girl (’:

thank you! i honestly just went out to my friend’s bday dinner yesterday night and chilled at home all day today. i’m supposed to hang with my dad and probably go out driving tomorrow so we’ll see. as of rn, i’m fooling myself into thinking that i’m gonna work on my english paper rn but i’m compromising and telling myself to just find quotes and write my thesis then saving the actually writing for tomorrow. but LMAO I’M GLAD YOU CAN RELATE. I WORRY THAT I’M ALONE ON THIS SOMETIMES. yeah, i detach easily and i don’t mean to but sometimes i prefer to let my mind drift and daydream because it’s so much more interesting than day to day life. buT I GET SO EMOTIONALLY INVESTED IN ANIME OK. I CRIED FOR SEASON TWO ALSO. LIKE OIKAWA WAS SO HARDWORKING AND FUCK WHEN THEY LOST TO THE CROWS I WAS SO SAD BC I HONESTLY WISHED THEY COULD BOTH WIN SOMEHOW. like fuck that anime is good, making us sympathize and love like literally everyone you meet because the biggest antagonist in that damn show is time and how one minor point just fucks everyone over and kjsdhfsjkdhf i love haikyuu!! sooooo much. god

LMAO IT’S OK. i spoil myself a lot with shows and movies bc i’m a big like movie person especially in the MCU and horror cuz i like knowing that what i’m watching is worth all the fuss (this goes for most movies in general) although for black panther i didn’t spoil myself because i could feel it in my gut that it would end my entire existence and guess what it did? ended my entire existence. AND OMG INFINITY WAR SDFSDKJHF I’M SOLELY WATCHING IT FOR T’CHALLA TBH. I NEEDA KNOW WHAT ELSE IS GONNA HAPPEN WITH HIM AND THE REST OF WAKANDA OK. AND OMG IT IS? I LOVE THAT. OK FOR SURE I’M WATCHING IT OK.

i only played an interactive story app abt superheroes and it was so freakin’ cool. now this makes me want to replay it ‘cuz it’s just a trip man. the story line is great and i love the idea of superpowers. and omg that story of yours sounds so cool! like imo a trope / plot can seem “cliche” but how you execute it is what really makes the biggest different! like make me feel!!! make me love and hate your characters!!!!!!!! but yeah, honestly, i’m really starting to disbelieve in my skills at writing multi-part fics bc it’s a STRUGGLE. i write to finish i think. but i’m challenging myself to write series bc i have a few that i reallyyyyyyyyyyy want to write. and holy shit 20k????????? that’s amazing! i’ve only done that like once and i haven’t read it in hella long.

whenever i get around to it (man, i’m starting to get annoyed with myself for using this phrase kjsdhkjfsh), i will most def hit you up!!!!!!!! my first fic was like......... uh.... fuck i can’t even remember but i will admit i did try writing twilight fanfic too. in terms of kpop, my first was this jungkook drabble that i never saved and actually deleted after a few days but another one was this yoongi drabble that i currently have up rn that isn’t too bad. but ok girl telling me, a girl who thrives off structure and a basis, that something is broad is HELL for me. like i really need to think things over and make sure it makes sense and it’s just hard. i struggle but i’m trying.

rjgnkjsgkjsdhfkjshf alright, alright mundane jobs for earth-bound bts:

jin: cafeteria lady (sorry bb), everyone loves him, his station’s the cleanest, and no one hates him like............. at all. not even Boss, who everyone FEARS

yoongi: janitor but not really he doesn’t clean and his boss loves him too much to make him do work

hobi: retail worker bc he will not let any atrocity walk out of the store no matter what, doesn’t need his powers to get anyone to buy anything, makes pouches A Thing

joon: librarian, likes to observe ppl, somehow likes humanity even tho we’re messes (”aren’t we all messes, after all?”)

jimin & tae: delivery boys aka the bats bc they move like they’re coming straight out of hell

jungkook: mcd cashier, hates his job, sometimes gives people melted ice cream bc they looked at him funny

[elleleuthold]

Get to know the writer:

I was tagged by @caffeinewitchcraft in the Writer’s info meme. Thanks, this was fun!

1. Name?

Elle. It’s been a nickname for a while, and is now a penname.

2. Five words that describe your writing?

A mess of character emotions.

3. Literature / art / films you’d recommend?

I always have trouble with this question. But if you like history, I recommend Lies My Teacher Told Me by James Lowen for American history, and I just got Rejected Princesses for Christmas and am quite enjoying it. In fiction, I heartily recommend the Discworld series (don’t feel like you have to go chronologically) and Every Heart A Doorway (<3 multiple worlds and an ace protagonist). For classic fantasy, I go Belgariad for the cleanest, clearest hero’s journey I have ever read, and for classic sci-fi I’ll say the Ender’s Game series, because it was the first to really open my eyes to the ways adult actions and popular narratives shape children/the future. If I had to choose only one book to read over and over forever it would be Good Omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman. My favorite short stories are You, an Accidental Astronaut by Sonja Natasha (@heysonjanatasha), and How to Become a Robot in 12 Easy Steps by A. Merc Rustad (just go read all their stuff). My favorite poet is Richard Siken; Crush destroys me every time I pick it up.

I’ve also read a lot of good books this fall (I started following @lgbtqreads, @disabilityinkidlit and @richincolor which are great if you’re looking for more diverse options). Lies We Tell Ourselves is a really impactful story about desegregation, racism and lesbian coming-of-age in the South; Not Otherwise Specified is Contemporary YA about a black bi girl in Nebraska and I loved it to pieces, and I’ve been reading the Wings of Fire series at work, which is a highly-addictive kids series about dragons and prophecies.

Gah, this is turning into an essay, um. I like a lot of art, but I am terrible about remembering pieces or artists. The stuff I like best usually has evocative linework and minimal, but bright, colors. For film, I’ll say Avatar: The Last Airbender, Ghost in the Shell (the anime, subbed), Steven Universe and the first two seasons of Elementary. Also Life, by NBC (it’s on Netflix), which is the best detective show I have ever seen, hands down. Characters, writing, plot, music, cinematography, everything is amazing. I also play a lot of Dragon Age and Mass Effect, which are games where you fight against injustice and other threats the government refuses to acknowledge exist, and also you can kiss love interests of whatever gender you feel like.

4. Images, symbols, and settings you associate with your work?

Smooth, damp rocks by the riverside, a blank sketchbook page and a cheap pen, too many research tabs in the browser, worn book spines, copper glinting in sunlight and the wind in my face. Also, I seem to write a lot stories that involve escaping various types of prisons for some reason.

5. Themes / concepts you are hesitant to write about?

Abuse and assault, and also non-mainstream-American/English/Japanese cultures, mostly because I’m afraid of getting things wrong. I very much want to write a multiplicity of situations and cultures but am still mostly in the research stage. On the abuse and assault topic, I am also squeamish.

6. What would you tell someone who’s nervous about starting out?

Everyone’s nervous. The greatest writers you idolize have self-doubt. You gotta start anyway, because no one else can tell the stories you can. Start with whatever your favorite pet idea is. Frame it in words. Get it on paper. But don’t confine yourself to that. Write it when it’s fun, and write other stuff the rest of the time. You might need to practice more to really do it justice, and that’s okay. Take prompts, write sprints and drabbles and fanfic and poetry. Do NaNo, enter challenges with daunting deadlines. But above all else, finish a story. However long, however short. Finish something. I learned more from finishing one piece and editing it than writing 100 unfinished snippets, and each successive piece I finish adds to that knowledge.

And if you’re comfortable, post it. If you’re not, share it with someone, even if it’s unfinished and you’re just stuck. An alpha reader, a beta editor. Ask your friends and followers to look at a carefully controlled google doc. Ask me. If I can’t look something over for you myself I’ll do my best to put you in touch with someone who can. Writing gets about 1000 times more fun when you’re not doing it in a vacuum.

7. Three of your writings you’d recommend to people who’d like to know more about you?

Well, I haven’t posted much here yet! But this faerie snippet is based on my favorite fairy tale ever, The Ballad of Tam Lin (the original has some skeevy bits but I have a few novel adaptations I adore), bridesmaid is probably the most personal of what I’ve posted so far, and Exit Arc is the most polished piece. I’ve been writing in fandom for years (Heroes, Doctor Who, Marvel, Band of Brothers, etc), but I’m trying to keep this account just slightly separate from my fanworks. If you’re interested in my fics, I’d be happy to share that info via ask or message.

8. What pushes you to keep writing?

I’ve learned in the last few years that words are even more important than I realized, and stories are on a whole level above that. I spent a few years in academia, and a few years in magazine editing, and while I still loved words in the end, those experiences conspired to convince me that words were infinitely mutable and no story could be true in any lasting way. But then I started working in schools, with kids of every age between six and 18, and I could see, again, how important words were, and how much impact stories could have. I started reading more nonfiction and stories other than fanfiction again. And I looked at the state of published fiction and determined that most of it is not a vision of the world I want those kids to grow up with. Most published fiction I see on shelves and in magazines doesn’t even represent my own generation, let alone theirs. Things are getting better, more inclusive and representative, but a lot of publishing companies are run by people like my old boss, who gladhand around in an exclusively white, straight and male club and think that trying new things and helping people achieve their dreams should take a distant backseat to making money.

So I guess what I’m saying here is that what drives me is a desire to see more stories that reflect a world I want to live in, where people who haven’t been traditionally recognized in popular literature not only exist, but go on adventures and save the world, because everyone should have access to that dream. I want more stories about hope and friendship and the importance of taking care of ourselves and standing up for each other, because we need more of that in the world. I want to see more stories that break genre barriers and refuse to follow the same old patterns, and stories that actively criticize those patterns, because those are the stories that teach people to think outside prescribed lines. And I can’t sit here, feeling these things, and not contribute.

and i will tag... @fontess, @mm-mendell and @eggletine (only if you feel like it, of course!)