#but hopefully encourages people to watch season 2

[confirmeddead]

Imagine watching IWTV for the first time and getting to witness this back to back

[kelcemenow]

Personal Foul.

Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader

Words 2103

Warnings Some strong language, mentions of violence and a big old fluffy Travis.

This anon request came through a while ago and now that I'm pretty much finished with Touchdown, I thought I would finish this to a place where I'm happy. I hope you like it! "I’m so glad you did my request absolutely loved it!! I have another request hahah fic x reader where Travis is playing and another player says a comment about the reader that makes Travis go crazy protective mode and ends up getting ejected from the game"

You settled in your seat close to the side-lines of the field at Arrowhead Stadium. The Chiefs were facing the Bengals for their first game of the season and even though it hadn’t started yet, the atmosphere was electric. You clutched at your cold beer, looking around at the sea of red and gold that was surrounding you.

Your sister, Karly, snuggled up next to you, “Oh my God, we’re super close!”

You breathed in the air, “Yeah, Travis sorted these out for us.”

“I can’t wait to see him play, apparently he’s really good.”

You smirked at her, rolling your eyes, “Yeah, he’s pretty decent.”

The noise grew louder and your eyes snapped to the field, watching for your new boyfriend to emerge onto the grass. Your seat rumbled as the announcer called his name and the thousands of people in the stadium roared for him. You were filled with an immense feeling of excitement and adoration for him, proud to call him yours.

Your heart fluttered as he jogged out, lifting his arms to encourage more noise from the fans. You smiled as he stopped to dance in the end-zone, hopefully a taste of what was to come during the game. Travis placed his hand to his lips and then raised it towards the stands, something he said he would do for you. You caught your breath knowing that you were on his mind right before the game began.

The first half of the game was fairly uneventful, the Bengals took an early lead with a touchdown in the first quarter but the Chiefs caught up within the second. You were concerned though. Travis seemed to be struggling, his focus elsewhere. You noticed a particular Bengals linebacker paying close attention to Travis, covering him often and occasionally conversing with him between plays. You kept your eyes on him the entire time, willing him to snap out of whatever mood he was in. He missed some throws, tripped up on a rush and you could see Patrick pulling him aside every now and again.

Karly didn’t seem to notice anything, thankfully she was oblivious to the rules of football and seemed to be enjoying the game regardless. You looked back towards the field as the teams left at half time to go back to the locker rooms, your eyebrows knitted together.

“Is everything okay?” Karly questioned.

You cleared your throat, “Yeah, yeah. Everything’s fine.” You said before taking a sip of your beer.

“Oh my God, you’re not pregnant, are you?” She squeaked with excitement.

You laughed, “Karly, I wouldn’t be drinking beer if I was. Besides, me and Travis have only been together for a few months, you’re a little ahead there.”

She slumped her shoulders in disappointment, “Fine. So, what is it then?”

You twisted your mouth, “Something’s up with Travis.”

“Really? Well…maybe he’s just a bit nervous, with it being his first game of the season and all?”

Your fingers rubbed against the edge of your plastic glass, the cold condensation covering your thumb, “Yeah. Maybe.”

You weren’t entirely convinced but silently hoped that he would settle during the second half and you would soon see the man that you were falling in love with back to his best.

As the third quarter began, Travis seemed to appear much calmer and more focused, but as the Chiefs were getting lined up to run a 4th down play with 2 yards in it, Travis quickly stood up from his crouched position and grabbed the jersey of Germaine Pratt, the linebacker from earlier in the game, bringing him close to his face in anger. You rose to your feet and rapidly ran your eyes across the field to figure out what was happening.

The officials blew their whistles and a flag was thrown onto the field. Travis had Germaine up to his face, his helmet clashing against his. Players, coaches and officials flooded the field and you spotted Patrick Mahomes pulling Travis away. An officials voice rang out into the stadium detailing Travis’ penalty. ‘Personal foul. Unnecessary roughness, offense, number 87. 15-yard penalty, automatic first down.’

You watched as Patrick spoke to Travis for a second before returning to the field. Travis lowered his head and made his way to the bench, removing his helmet and running his hands over his face. You craned your neck to see him, but you could barely see beyond the rows of fans. You could only just make out his arms, flailing wildly in panic as players flocked to his side, trying to calm him down. You took a deep breath, watching as the Chiefs lost the ball back to the Bengals after failing to make the 17 yards.

“Well, that was intense.” Karly said in a low voice, holding her beer up to her mouth.

You shook your head, “I don’t know what’s got him all riled up?”

“Not a good color on him, though, is it?”

Your snapped sideways to look at Karly, “We don’t know what’s going on down there.”

She took a mouthful of her beer and shrugged her shoulders, turning back to face the field. You continued to look at Travis on the bench when an increase in crowd noise diverted your attention. Chris Jones had Bengals quarterback Joe Burrow flustered and he fumbled the ball. You jumped to your feet as Nick Allegretti caught it and ran the ball for 14 yards, giving the Chiefs possession. Travis threw his helmet back on and with a confident thud on his chest, he ran out ready for the next play.

Your heart was beating out of your chest with panic, “Come on, Travis. Come on, baby. Just keep it together. Please.”

Both teams squatted down ready for the snap and your eyes were locked on Travis, who was now face to face again with Germaine. You clutched your hands up against your chest, swallowing hard as if it would eliminate the churning sensation in your stomach. Suddenly, Travis sprinted from his position, finding a space downfield and leaping into the air to catch the ball.

“Yes!” You shrieked as he made the catch and securely tucked it in his arm, your eyes following him down the field.

The crowd raised their voices as he approached the end-zone, successfully dodging Bengals on each side. You jumped slightly with excitement, watching your man’s feet pounding the grass with impressive speed as he crossed the goal line and lifted the ball into the air. Karly jumped up from her seat and threw her arms around you, screaming loud enough to make your ears ring.

The ecstasy you were feeling was slowly halted when you noticed Germaine speaking to Travis. You narrowed your eyes as you watched Travis puff out his chest and aggressively approach the linebacker.

“No, Travis!” You cried out but it was too late. He had already pushed Germaine’s shoulders with both of his hands, knocking him to the ground. Travis towered over Germaine, shouting down at him as players in both red and white crowded the pair. Another flag was thrown onto the field and a chorus of boos sang out around the stadium.

Your hands found their way to your face, covering your cheeks in despair. Patrick managed to drag Travis away but you could still see the tension in his body, the anger flowing out of him. Above the crowd noise, the official tried to read out the penalty.

‘Personal foul. Unnecessary roughness, offense, number 87. He is ejected from the game.’

Your face fell in shock as the crowd erupted, a mixture of cheers and boos. Your body was frozen to the spot as you watched Travis walk off of the field and into the tunnel, back to the locker-room. A feeling of dread washed over you as you sat back down in your seat.

Karly out her arm around you, “Well, that was shit.”

You sniffed a laugh, “Yeah, it was. I’ll speak to him after the game. Something was up with him, I’m sure of it. He wouldn’t have done that unprovoked.” You pointed a finger towards the field.

“Just hope they win this game, otherwise he’s going to be really pissed.” She squeezed you close.

The game ended as a bittersweet victory, all in thanks to 2 more touchdowns from the Chiefs, holding the lead until the final whistle. As you shuffled out of the stands, you searched for the way to the locker-rooms. Travis had gotten you clearance so you could see him after the game so as Karly waited by the bar, you showed your pass to the security guards and headed down the corridor.

You smiled at the various players whom you had met already as they passed you. Patrick threw you a wave and George Karlaftis pulled you in for a hug. “Go and cheer him up, would you? We’ve tried but nothing.” He said as he withdrew, turning away to leave the stadium.

You paused and took a deep breath before you pushed the door open, the air thick with steam and sweat. The room was empty but as you stepped further in, you saw a foot peeking out from around a corner. You waited for a moment before calling out into the room.

“Is it safe to come in?”

You heard a faint chuckle, “Of course, baby.” Followed by a couple of sniffs.

Travis was sat on a bench, his elbows resting on his knees and his head in his hands. He had already changed into a plain black t-shirt and some dark grey sweatpants, his hair slick wet. You gazed upon your boyfriend with furrowed eyebrows, his pain and anger radiating from him along with the damp heat from his shower.

“Baby-“

“I just snapped.” He looked up at you with red eyes.

You knelt down in front of him, placing your hands on top of his, “I know, I know. What happened?”

He stood up abruptly, pacing the locker-room with a frantic energy. You stayed still for a second before coming to your feet, staring into his back as he dropped his head.

“What happened, Travis?”

“That asshole Pratt, he just kept-“ His voice cracked.

You stepped closer to him, gently touching his bicep and pressing your lips to his back.

“He kept talking about you.”

You leaned your head away from him, your face filled with confusion, “What would he have to say about me?”

He turned to face you, his teeth gritted together, “That he saw your bikini pictures on your Instagram and afterwards, he had to take a cold shower. That he knows that a fine-ass woman like you could do better than a scumbag like me. That he made a bet with the team that he could make you cum 10 times in one night and he can’t wait to find out if he’s gonna win.” His voice began to shake.

You stared up at him, his face full of pain.

“I can’t have anybody talking like that about you, baby.”

You took hold of his face, staring deep into his eyes, “You cannot let them get to you, Travis. That’s all that ass-hole wanted, for you to react like that...and you did. He just wanted to distract you. This is your career and your life and it’s so important that you don’t get into trouble just for protecting me.”

“But baby-“

“Travis, you are too damn good and too damn talented. Fuck what anybody says, even if it is about me. I’m a big girl, I can take it.”

He smiled softly, his eyes filling up with tears. He exhaled quickly and took you in his arms, “I’m so sorry.”

You laughed gently into his chest, “You have nothing to be sorry for. You were just defending me, and I appreciate that. But only off of the field, okay?”

He pulled you away and gazed at you with his hazy eyes. He breathed deeply in silence for a second before nodding his head, “Okay.”

“I can’t have the man I love getting in bust-ups every game. I don’t think my nerves could take it.”

His eyes widened and he gripped your waist, “What?”

You smiled, “I’m in love with you, Travis.”

He leaned down and smashed his lips onto yours, running his hands through your hair and rubbing circles behind your ear with his thumb. You hummed into the kiss, pressing your body into his. His kisses slowly moved across your cheek and onto your neck, the words falling out of his lips and into your skin.

“I love you too, Y/N.”

______________________________________________________________

I loved this concept. Protective Travis just does something to me! I'm really enjoying getting requests...you all have such good ideas! Feel free to throw some more my way and I'll also be adding people to my Taglist for my writing, so let me know if you want me to add you!

Taglist @kkrenae

[ashleyfilm]

Seeing Clearly - Chapter 5. Movie Night

Please leave comments, I'd love to know your thoughts. And if you feel inclined to reblog, that would be so nice.

Chapter Warnings: cursing - Minors - DNI

Characters: Jackson!Joel Miller x F!Reader Plus Size. F!OC was recommended to me since there's a lot of description of her but I'm writing her as You (Reader) so hopefully you can still imagine yourself. Black hair, glasses, tattoos, big body, wears dark clothes, won't stop talking. Joel is tv show Jackson Joel.

Story Summary: Joel just saved your life, begrudgingly. He doesn't know exactly why but he brings you back to Jackson and you ingratiate yourself into his very small circle and his life. This takes place after season 1 of TLOU and season 2 doesn't exist in my brain because no.

Chapter Summary: You start your job at the library, meet a new resident of Jackson and Joel takes you to the movies. 1.8K

Thank you to @saradika-graphics for the book line divider. :)

Chapter 1 Here Chapter 2 Here Chapter 3 Here Chapter 4 Here

Chapter 5. Movie Night

After stopping by the clothing swap, Joel walks you to the library in your “new” old black t-shirt, with the faded logo of Guns n’ Roses, one of your favorite bands from childhood, you can still remember most of the words to the entire Use Your Illusion II album. Your eyes lit up when you found it and it actually fits you, even a tiny bit loose, your favorite. Joel couldn’t help the smile that formed on his plush lips seeing you full of glee, like a child that never went through any of this shit. At the library, you meet an older gentleman named Doc, long grey hair, warm smile and a sparkle in his eyes. He’s hoping to retire this year and you’re just in time to learn the ropes and take over. He walks you through the stacks and what he’s been able to do with the last three years he’s spent there. Organizing, cataloguing, working out distribution to the townsfolk. He even encourages you to suggest your own ideas on how to facilitate the place. You take your time walking around and looking at the books, all in various stages of use, but mostly well held up. Sometimes there are even multiple copies of something where the beginning is in one and the end in the other.

It's magical, being surrounded by all these stories, all these means of escape. And you haven’t even gotten to the VHS tape section with the movies. You grew up going to the video store every Friday with your parents, picking out something for them and something for you. Sitting in your room and watching the stories unfold before your eyes. You even worked in a video store before the outbreak, studied filmmaking in school. This place is already healing you. You can feel it. “Ash, got a visitor here, needs help finding something,” Doc says to break you from your reverie. You walk to the front desk and find a young man, probably in his early 30s, blonde hair, average height, good looking, but kind of like the asshole in your high school that’s on the soccer team and makes fun of you in front of his friends. “Ash, is it? I heard we had a newbie in town. I’m Ryan, nice to meet you,” he says as he takes your hand and gives it a squeeze. You still at the touch, people don’t really touch like this anymore and you haven’t been touched since you got here except for Joel and that was …different.

“Hi, uh, what can I help you with?” You say curtly. “Well, I’m looking for something to read, maybe something sci-fi, think you can help me out,” he says with a smirk. This guy isn’t here to read, he’s here to get the info on the new girl, ugh fuck off. “Um, sure, follow me.” Even though you’re new, you’ve quickly made a map in your head of the library space and the way Doc has taken to organizing and grouping things. You head straight to fiction section, which is currently just by author last name, you’ll change that. Wanting to get this over quickly, you look for H.G. Wells, and find The Invisible Man and hand it to the guy. So, Brad or whatever the fuck his name is will get away from you. “A Grotesque Romance,” he says reading the subtitle on the cover. “Interesting choice,” again with the smirk. “Yup, hope you enjoy it,” you say not really looking at him anymore. “I’m sure I will,” he says looking your body up and down. “See ya around, Ash.” You smile quickly and turn to walk away. Well, that’s the first person you’ve met that you immediately dislike, you guess it was bound to happen in a town with this many fucking people. A very obvious downside.

At the end of your shift, you say goodbye to Doc and start on your walk to the dining hall that will be turned into a movie theatre for the evening for a viewing of Jurassic Park. Your tote bag, courtesy of your new boss, filled with three books. Carrie by Stephen King for you, a graphic novel called, Somewhere in the Stars for Ellie, and No Country for Old Men by Cormac McCarthy for Joel. You wonder if he’ll like your old man joke or not. And like you’ve manifested him; he’s standing outside the library leaning against a lamppost, waiting for you. He’s stunning, standing with his arms crossed against his chest, in a green flannel with red lines and the sleeves rolled up to reveal his thick forearms and his hair wet and slicked back. And he’s there for you. He looks up and notices you walking towards him, you bite your lip to try and hide your smile. “Well, how’d it go?” He asks with his mouth in a line but his eyes, they’re different, warmer. “Good,” you answer, “Doc’s really lovely and it’s amazing how many books you all have.” He watches you speak, and you think he might see something new, and you feel it too, invigorated. You begin to walk in step with one another to the movie night.

“I got Ellie something,” you say as you dig into your bag and retrieve the graphic novel, handing it to Joel. He smiles warmly, probably thinking of Ellie and says, “She’ll love this.” After he hands it back you put it away and reach for the book you got for him, “And this …is for you.” Your hold your breath hoping he likes your choice. “Old Men, that a crack on me, sweetheart?” He says with a chuckle. Sweetheart, he just called you sweetheart. He continues, “Thank you, that’s real kind. Always wanted to read this one, never had the chance, always workin’ too much before everything happened.” “Good, well now you can.” He hands it back and your fingers brush just slightly and like this morning you feel a bolt of electricity run through you. You look away and hope he can’t see the blush on your cheeks.

When you walk into the theatre together, quite a few people look your way with curiosity. You don’t know if it’s because you’re new in town or because you’re with the big, bad Joel Miller. But soon, you don’t care because you smell the popcorn and hear people laughing and see the big projector screen. And you almost sob right then and there. Joel’s watching you in wonder. He lightly touches your shoulder, leaning in close he whispers, “Go pick out a seat wherever you want, I’ll get us some snacks.” A shiver runs down your spine and he’s gone. You find what you deem the perfect seat, close to the middle and along the center aisle. You see Ellie who gives you a wave and wanders after a pretty, dark-haired girl around her age. She looks so happy, and it makes your heart clench in your chest. You start to worry how much you’ve gotten comfortable here, it’s a lot so soon. And you worry that it could all be taken away, like everyone and everything in your life already has.

Before you can spiral too far into your mind, Joel sits next to you. “You couldn’t pick a place a little less surrounded by people?” he says with a grunt. “Hey, you said anywhere I want,” you pout at him. “That I did, I guess I shouldn’t leave it up to you next time,” he says with another hint of a laugh. Did he say next time? Did you really hear that? The movie starts to play, and you and Joel share popcorn, he holds it for you and offers it over to you every couple of minutes. You hear the music by John Williams, and it takes you back. When you were a little girl and your parents would sit you between them and watch you as your eyes lit up taking it all in, so enthralled. Popcorn now long forgotten, it comes to one of the parts you’ve never forgotten, when the girl, is about to fall through the ceiling and the velociraptors are underneath her dangling body and they snap at her legs. You jump out of your skin and grab onto Joel’s hand. After the jump scare you start to laugh, still holding onto him, then you look over at him and he’s already looking at you, a soft smile on his face, until both your smiles fade replaced with a longing gaze until he drops your hand and turns back to the movie. You worry you’ve gone too far, asked for too much, too soon. You clasp your hands back in your lap and try to enjoy the rest of the movie in silence.

As the T-Rex screams and the banner falls, the room is filled with applause. Everyone loved this movie; it didn’t matter who you were. The lights come on and everyone begins to make their way out into the night air of Jackson. Joel says he’s going to find Ellie and for you to “stay put.” Eyeroll. Unfortunately, that’s when Brad or whoever the fuck from earlier decides to come and say hello. “Hi there, Ash. How’d you like the movie?” he says while again looking you up and down. “It’s great, one of my favorites but I guess you weren’t born when it came out, huh?” You don’t even know if it’s true you just want to infantilize him, so he’ll go away. Instead, he laughs and touches your arm, “You may be right about that one.” Suddenly, Joel is back at your side with Ellie, “Time to go.” He says to you gruffly. Ellie is looking between you, Joel and what’s his name wide-eyed like she’s waiting for fireworks or a fight to break out. “Oh, hey Joel, I didn’t know you knew our girl, Ash here,” he says with a smirk, looking only at you. “She’s staying with us, Ryan.” Joel says, fist clenched at his side. Ryan, oh that’s his name. “Okay, well maybe you can save me a seat next time, Ash,” Ryan says with a tip of his hat gesture, the dumbass isn’t even wearing a hat. Idiot. “Bye,” you say as you turn to walk after Ellie and Joel. Ellie hangs back with you as Joel darts off ahead of you. With a grin Ellie says, “What was all that about, huh?” You look at her with a disgusted look on your face, “I honestly have no idea.” Over the next several days, you avoid Brad/Ryan like the plague. Haha, plague. And sadly Joel barely speaks to you, but he does leave out your wolf mug by the coffee machine every morning.

[jamiesfootball]

Whumptober Easy Mode Edition

Day 2: Trust Issues

Going into Whumptober, I knew I wouldn't be able to fill every day's prompt. However, my discord group is doing daily discussions on each day's prompts, so my goal for the month is to at least play with the ideas and then share a little ditty about them on tumblr. If they get written in the future, great! If not, we can at least all have fun playing in the sandbox together

And then today's idea snowballed and it's actually longer than some of the fics I've posted - it's just gonna be like that sometimes. I talk a lot on discord.

So for today I have in mind an AU of the story I posted for day 1:

What if Ted had tried to reach out to Jamie after he was sent back to Manchester? What if he succeeded?

The general idea is that once Jamie leaves, Ted does keep attempting to reach out to him – at first with well-meant voicemails that Jamie reads the worst into, but then via annoyingly chipper text messages.

The problem is that the nicer Ted is, the more Jamie thinks he’s rubbing his face in it.

“Caught your game last night! I know you weren’t on the field much, but boy you made an impression on those spurs. Way to go, bud!”

To which Jamie hears Ted delighting in his severely reduced minutes, sarcastically mocking him for drawing a foul in the last ten minutes. Disguising mind games behind a facade of kindness.

He already got suckered in by that once. Look where letting people in got him. 

He has no way of knowing that Ted actually cares (except Ted insisting he does, of course). More than that, he has no idea that Ted feels guilty for him getting sent off like that without warning (Jamie doesn’t know what’s going on behind the scenes at Richmond, and Ted is taking full responsibility for the fact that Rebecca ‘misunderstood’ whether Ted wanted to keep Jamie.)

But if Ted thinks that his insistent ‘Good luck out there today!’s are going to somehow get into Jamie’s head, or even trick Jamie into giving up details about City, then he’s sorely mistaken.

In fact, Jamie’s going to take this opportunity to tell Ted exactly what he thinks of him.

So they fall into a pattern:

Ted watches all of Jamie’s matches, even the ones where he doesn’t play. He sends encouragement and cute gifs that make Jamie’s eyes roll into the back of his head.

In return, Jamie watches all of Ted’s matches and interviews. He unleashes insults. He mocks Ted’s ability as a coach and the team’s inability to score a fucking goal without him, and he never misses a chance to point out that Roy Kent is a hairy old twat past his prime.

To his horror this only makes Ted start bringing up Jamie in his interviews, talking about how impressed he is with Jamie’s performance and how he does know one thing that Pep doesn’t seem to know: that that kid’s gonna be a star one day.

(Ted doesn’t think for a second how the fuck that’s going to land for Jamie when he goes back into the dressing room. Fucking hell, Ted)

But then the thing about Manchester is that Jamie really didn’t know how good he had it at Richmond until suddenly he had to deal with his dad being around all the fucking time. And it’s absolutely eroding him, like roadkill getting dragged under the wheels of a car.

So one day he has a match where he gets to play the full ninety. Should be a good thing, right? He can finally show off, and hopefully it’ll help him shake off the weird funk he’s been in lately (trouble sleeping, trouble eating, jumpy as hell, and he can’t seem to focus on anything. Normal, but fuck it hasn't been this bad in a long time)

Instead what happens is he goes out and plays the worst 90 minutes of football he’s had all season. Possibly in his entire life.

He never stood a chance. With other players out on injury, it was a guarantee he’d play, and the opposing team came prepared for blood. 

Honestly, with the exception of one very bad moment, he wasn’t awful. Maybe 60-70% of what he’s been putting up all season. Not great, but he hasn’t had a full game with this team literally all season and his head is in a funky place and he’s stressed out.

But the match is a train wreck, and his dad lets him know it. He rips into Jamie like he’s nothing more than a wet newspaper left out overnight.

The cherry on the situation is when he gets home and checks his phone, he finds that Lasso didn’t even bother to send one of his condescending messages about how ‘great’ he played. That’s how bad he played – even lasso feels guilty taking the piss out of him.

Later that night when he’s licking his wounds and rewatching match coverage on Sky sports for the upteenth time, Jamie decides that no, actually, that’s not fucking fair. If Ted’s going to jerk him around then he needs to commit, he’s not allowed to go radio silent just because he feels bad for Jamie or he pities him or something.

He sends an absolutely scathing text message in this respect.

Meanwhile back in London, Ted also had a Bad Day. His marriage is officially dissolved, custody agreements inked and everything. He’s been antsy all day, and to make matters worse him and Beard had a– well, not a fight, exactly, but a cautioning. Beard knows that he’s been texting Jamie, trying to keep in touch with him, and he questions Ted as to whether he thinks that’s wise. He knows what sort of responses Ted gets out of Jamie, and while Ted brushes them off-

“He’s a bit feisty, but if you look past the bark, he’s not so bad. Hell if you edit out some of the profanity, he’s got some pretty good ideas for Richmond mixed in. Well, between taking pot shots at Roy, that is.”

– Beard thinks Ted is maybe letting himself be a bit of a punching bag out of misplaced guilt surrounding the circumstances of his leaving.

“Wow, you’re not mincing words today, huh?”

But between one thing and another, it all gets jumbled up Ted’s head. Later that night he has a conversation with Henry and it goes- fine. Forced. Feels like they’re just stuck in the same old pattern of Ted asking about school and then a few question about Michelle. Then it’s time for Henry’s day to start just as Ted’s is ending, and maybe he’ll pour himself a drink. Maybe he’s been drinking a bit more than he should be lately.

Mostly he feels like a scooped out person today. It’s not until he gets the text from Jamie that Ted realizes oh shoot, that’s right. Jamie had a match. He better get on that really quick.

Double-time, if the amount of acid of that text is any indication. The fact that Jamie reached out first at all is a concern in itself.

Despite what Beard accused him of (which does have some truth to it, if he’s being honest), Ted does, genuinely, enjoy talking to Jamie. He’s a sharp kid with his own point of view and a unique way of putting things together. Ted wouldn’t want to hurt Beard’s feelings by saying it, but Ted’s always learned better with a visual aid, and between watching Jamie’s matches and hearing Jamie talk unfiltered about Richmond’s performance, Ted thinks something’s finally starting to click for him when it comes to this silly little game they call football.

Or at least it’s clicked enough that when he watches the replay of Jamie’s match, his response is a very emphatic, “Oof.”

“Hey, bud. Sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner. It’s just been a long day. I just watched your match, and wooh-boy, I am sorry. I’m sure that wasn’t exactly how you were hoping your first full game back would go. You know, it’s still crazy to me that y'all actually give the credit of own goals to the player from the opposing team that did it? In hockey, we just give it to the teammate who’s the closest to the goal. Which now that I think of it, probably doesn’t make any sense either, but at least it feels more whimsical. A goal by association, you know, like just the power of somebody else’s presence being nearby was enough to turn the tide and make a difference.

“Look, I know you probably already heard all this tonight – that everyone has a bad day and one match isn’t the end of the world, even if it does feel like it at the time. But you know what, it doesn’t mean you aren’t talented. Sometimes a bad day is just a bad day; nothing for it but to sleep it off and try again next time. So chin up, alright? It’s not easy, trying to find your feet in a place where everyone else already knows what's going on, but anyone who knows you at all should know by now what you’re capable of. This was just a hiccup, nothing worth beating yourself up over. I believe in you, and I know you’ll get ‘em next time.

“Oh, and uh- sorry for the long, rambly voicemail. I know you don’t like those. I just…. I really want you to know that I hope you’re doing alright. And you can call me, too, if you ever need anything, anything at all. I’m just a phone call away.

“You have a good night now.”

Ted hangs up with a long sigh. Not his best work. Nothing he hasn’t said before, really, but he can admit to himself that his heart’s a little sore and that was probably more for himself than for Jamie.

Tomorrow, he promises, tomorrow when he's more clearheaded but no less tenderhearted, he’ll try again. Send Jamie all the usual encouragement and let the kid swat back at him.

Ted doesn’t know that approximately four hours north that Jamie’s listening to his message on repeat. That he’s biting his lower lip so hard that it’s reopened the split. That he’s trying to choke down a sob and losing. That if he presses his face any harder into the cushions, he’ll disappear.

No one told Jamie any of that. Ted’s the only one.

It was easier to brush off Ted when he couldn’t hear the sincerity in his voice. But he listens to the voicemail over and over again, until it’s burned into his brain, until it feels like a living thing in his chest scrambling to get out.

That’s when a niggling feeling of doubt starts to creep in and he starts to scroll back through their text history.

He rereads all the messages Ted has sent him the past few weeks. Caught between Jamie’s own barbwire responses are the “Good job, Jamie!”s and the, “Well done, champ!”s and the, “Well, I don’t know if that sort of feedback is necessarily gonna motivate Roy, but I´ll let him know you were thinking about him. We all really miss you, bud.”

Jamie starts to wonder what they would sound like if they were true. If they were sincere. If Ted really did mean them.

For some reason it’s that thought that finally makes the dam break.

The next two weeks pass in a blur. Ted’s not sure what changed, but after his voicemail something’s different. Usually Jamie thrills in letting Ted have the full force of his opinion, but lately the kid’s so clammed up it’s like digging for pearls. 

(From the way Beard gives him a so-so gesture when he shares his metaphor, Ted figures they’re still in not-agreement on the Jamie situation)

It’s disconcerting, this level of restraint. If he didn’t know any better, he’d swear the kid had gone shy. Not too shy, though. He’s still more than willing to tell Ted exactly where Richmond’s strategy is going wrong, although with less colorful language. No, it's mostly his responses to Ted that have taken a muted turn. The last few congratulations Ted has sent, they haven’t gotten back more than a thumbs up in response – which is the opposite of Roy’s usual thumbs down approach. Now Ted has two players that are stubbornly sticking to pictographic communication methods.

(He may not be Jamie’s coach anymore, but in every way that matters Jamie is still his player in his heart)

Ted’s still turning around the puzzle that is Jamie Tartt when the universe decides to throw him a curveball in the form of a phone call from the Mancunian devil himself.

Ted’s halfway through a greeting when Jamie cuts him off with a panicked, “You said I could call you if I ever needed something. Did you mean it?”

There’s a sense of urgency in his voice that makes the hair on the back of Ted’s neck stand up. 

“I meant it from the bottom of my heart. What’s going on? Are you okay?”

In the long pause that follows, ambient noise filters in, a severe and orderly racket that starts filling in some blanks.

Jamie inhales sharply. He sounds wrecked. “I’m in hospital. I’ve, uh. I’ve got a concussion, and they won’t let me leave without…”

He trails off. A small sniff brushes down the line, but it could just as easily be a shirtsleeve sliding across the speaker.

Ted is four hours away down in Richmond. He was on his way to practice. Later this evening, he has one of those press conferences that’s a little too shaped like a firing squad for his comfort. At lunch, he has a meeting scheduled with the scouting department. He’s spent the better part of a week trying to figure out a way to say, “I get what you’re all suggestion, but what I really want is sitting up in Manchester, warming the bench on somebody else’s roster.”

He doesn’t know when he decided he’d fight to get Jamie back, but it wouldn’t change his answer even if he did.

“I‘ll be right there.”

[we-have-the-same-left]

2, 4, 12, 23 for the dbd ask game!

About this dbd ask game!

2. Which is your favourite episode? Why?

Episode 7!!! The flashback scene literally warms my heart, and the entire hell escape just makes me so emotional!! I think this episode really explores the relationship between Charles and Edwin and their unconditional love for eachother, which is lovely to see <3

4. Something you wanted to see in season 2?

Oh so many things 😭 I'd really like to see the development of Edwin and Charles relationship post-confession and regarding Charles' background, I think they still got a lot to talk about... Also flashbacks!! From theyr first years together!! I would die to see how their relationship progressed over the years!! And you know, canon painland goes unsaid... Don't know if it would happen is season 2 tho, maybe if there was a season 3, I guess. Oh well, I can only dream.

12. If you existed in the universe would you hang around as a ghost? (What would you do?)

I think I would, at least for a bit!! I would totally mirror travel all over the world, for starters. Also I'd totally do some hauntings, probably with bad politics and homophobes and all... (JK watch out)! It would be kind of lonely tho so hopefully I'd have some ghost friends?

23. Song that reminds you of the show..

Apart from the songs IN the show (under the milky way hits HARD, and black parade is just SO PERFECT for their context like??? Makes me emotional every time), A Match Into Water from Pierce the Veil kind of reminds me of Charles trying to save Edwin at all costs and going to hell for him... I don't know if I'm crazy but I see it 😭

Thank you for interacting!!!!

[percahliaweek]

FAQ

What tag should I use?

#percahliaweek should work nicely - you can @ us @percahliaweek so we can reblog your contribution on the corresponding day.

Will you be doing anything on Twitter/other social media?

We considered it! However, as other social media sites have proven unreliable (especially lately), we'll be hosting the event only on Tumblr. However, you're welcome to post your work wherever you like!

Can I do _ for the event?

Yes. Yep. Seriously, so long as it focuses on Perc'ahlia (and is appropriately tagged to avoid spoiling people), you can do it. Cosplay, inspired recipes, beadwork, podfic, go wild! Well, with the caveat that no hateful content will be permitted - don't use a joyous event to rain on someone else's parade or promote hatespeech, alright?

Is NSFW content allowed?

Given the ship in question and just how canonically horny they are for eachother - yes! However, we request that you tag this content as #nsfw and use the appropriate content filter on it. If posting in the Discord server, keep it to the 18+ chat. Be mindful of potential minors in fandom space + people browsing content in public.

I want to participate but haven't watched Campaign 1!

We welcome fans of The Legend of Vox Machina with open arms. As a result, it's requested that campaign fans do their best to avoid spoiling show fans for anything beyond what Season 2 has shown (Umbrasyl's defeat). That means late Campaign 1, the oneshots and any mention of them in other campaigns should be tagged as #cr1 spoilers (using just this tag for simplicity). Show fans, if you want to remain unspoiled, I recommend you block this on Tumblr and mute spoilery channels in the server.

Is there an AO3 collection for the fanfics?

One can definitely be set up closer to the start date!

Does my submission have to fit one of the prompts?

That would be ideal, yes! Anything freeform should be posted on Day 7 for Free/Random prompts. But fitting the prompt can be very loose - maybe you just use the word as a motif, or you take it in an entirely unexpected direction. We want to encourage creativity and fun more than anything else.

I don't know what to do for the Free/Random day!

We have a few recommendations (we are unaffiliated with the websites linked): Random page of the Encyclopedia Exandria Random word generator OTP prompt generator AU generator 

Ghost’s Spell prompts [roll 2d20?]

Wild Magic Surge table

Life events table

If you've made prompt lists and would not mind them being featured here, reach out!

How did you choose the prompts?

Prompts were chosen over a day or two while talking with friends - they were intended to be open-ended enough to allow flexibility while also touching on key elements of the ship! Some obvious ones (ex: courage, heart, that sort of thing) were left out so that, hopefully, they could be included next year. If there's enough interest, future prompts could be chosen via fan poll.

Will this be an annual event?

We sure hope so! Hence optimistically keeping back some prompt ideas for the future. Let's see how this goes ;3

Why late September?

On September 29th, 2016, the Critical Role episode 'Passed Through Fire' aired, which features an iconic Perc'ahlia moment (no spoilers for show fans!). Following Burr's poll on which scene is most iconic for the pairing, we decided to have the week celebrate the anniversary of that episode.

So why did you announce this so early?

Because Maggie has been a gremlin about the idea since April. Also, most fans in this space are adults with jobs and responsibilities - allowing more time to create without a rush benefits everyone.

A Discord server?

We have set up a little server for this event on Discord, mostly to hang out with other Perc'ahlia fans and motivate eachother to work on our respective projects. The current link is HERE - let us know if it's not working!

Who is hosting this?

At the moment the users running this blog are @burr-ell and @blorbologist! If the event expands beyond our abilities, we will look into taking on other users to help out - you'll know if we need a hand <333

Any more questions? Feel free to send in an ask and we'll do our best to answer in a timely manner!

[danpuff-ao3]

Rest, Recovery, Worry

My therapist tells me that writing is who I am. She stated at our last appointment that I light up when I talk about writing. She was glad to hear I'd been writing again, since it's been so long since I have.

Life has been pretty rough for months now. Right now is not the worst of it, but things still aren't great. I'm pretty permanently exhausted. I feel stuck where I am. My anxiety is bad.

So for the past few months I've just...given myself grace? In a way, anyway. I let myself laze around in my off time. My partner and I have been having horror movie marathons every weekend. I finished season 2 of Our Flag Means Death (finally!), and we started season 2 of Wheel of Time, and I plan on nudging him to start season 2 of Good Omens soon. Oh, we also started watching the Chucky TV series (we finished season 1 last weekend!)

It feels like a whole lot of nothing. It's been nice. I also feel a bit...off. Like I'm just floating through life. I miss creating. Even if it's not writing...Bookbinding or scrapbooking or...jewelry making, even. Even reading again would feel more real to me. I need to "do" something, and I worry that if this keeps up, I might never be able to "do" anything again.

My recent poking at Scrivener has felt so useless, but I think it's a step in the right direction, even if I don't finish anything anytime soon. "Progress is progress", as I like to say.

A lot of my recent struggles are related to ongoing issues of...People expect so much from me, in my life. When they know me and see what I can do, they expect so much, and so rarely appreciate any of it. And now especially I'm so close to another anniversary of leaving the Bad Fandom Space, and being so aware of those old wounds. The same wound opened over and over again.

My everlasting need to be productive...I really need to untie my creativity from my productivity. Maybe I'd enjoy it more, and maybe it would heal me more, if I could manage that. Instead, I look at my pitiful word counts, and see how far I am from the end, and feel defeated all over again.

But I do feel more "me" since I've been at least trying to write. And I invested in a new Cricut Maker that will, hopefully, encourage me to craft more. And I have plenty of future appointments scheduled out with my therapist.

Anyway, I've felt so absent lately, and I'm trying to find my way again, so I figured I'd come chat into the void for a bit. And maybe someone out there will listen 💛

[untitled-smp]

It's anon from the previous ask (the one about eating content) and GGHJSJSJ i didn't expected such a quick answer??

I don't really know where to begin watching/consuming any type of content from [untitled] smp. Where should I start? I scrolled A LOT on the account to see a bit of everything, like the AMAZING BUILDINGS OMGGGGGGGG and the tumblr sexyman polls, and jesus christ it all seems so great!! I even listen to some of the wizard kind of podcast thing (I don't remember exactly what they are, my bad!) and I saw some of the character introductions/presentations and I already really like some people :D I also checked the card and the screenshots of the s1 and s2, and looked at the story part (the unknown, the entities names)...

So, where should I start? By the beginning or?

Oh I can totally help with that!

The most video content you will find are about season 2 of the SMP, you can see all videos here, but if you are more interested in the lore then, not to be biased but I'd recommend my own s2 series! Particularly episode 4 [The Winter Ball] and beyond, since a lot of it influences what happens in s3.

As for s3 I'd recommend these fics in this order:

The Hallways (By Cass)

Ghost faces (By Ceph)

Honeysuckle bushes and other unkillable things (By Ceph)

You said you already heard some of the Wizard's broadcasts but I'd really recommend you listen to all of them !! They give plenty information in order of things that have happened in s3.

If you want to see more cool builds and chill fun vibes then watch cass season 3 videos! Or if you want something different and more story driven check out mikeys season 3 videos 1 2 3 !

Anyway yea something soon (hopefully it doesnt take me too long) will come for some more very fun season 3 content!!

___

As for extra content or content specifically about a character, then I'd say look at the toyhouse pages for some of the characters! Not many yet but hopefully that changes in the future haha

Some day i'd really love to compile all the content we've made about [Untitled] SMP, I'd probably do it once I get the prolonged motivation to work on and finish a long s1 animatic that explains the lore from then haha, one day </3

Anyway other members are free (and encouraged) to throw in some more content i forgot to mention !!

[idkjustletmescroll]

So we just got a first look at the characters for the ATLA live action and I feel like this is a good time to remind people that the live action will NOT be an exact retelling of the cartoon.

We have our Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee casted, and they’re supposed to be in season 1, which of course diverges from the original cartoon. I’m thinking it might be because book 1 of the cartoon is considered the slow season? Like...it’s great, but seasons 2 and 3 are definitely better, and most of the show’s top-rated episodes are in seasons 2 and 3.

Like Shadow and Bone, the ATLA live action is probably going to be closer to a high-budget fanfiction made not only to engage fans of the original show, but also to draw in new audiences who don’t watch cartoons, don’t like the animation style, or just haven’t watched ATLA...and hopefully this will also encourage them to watch the masterpiece that is the original cartoon.

But nevertheless, I’m actually interested to find out what the creators of the live action show decide to do and what changes they plan to make (I’m personally fine with not seeing The Great Divide in live action), as long as they keep the most important character arcs, plot points, and underlying themes. And as long as they don’t forget the most important character, the real heart of the show, and the most important line of dialogue in all of television.

I refer, of course, to Momo and 

“SECRET TUNNEL, THROUGH THE MOUNTAINS, SECRET, SECRET, SECRET, SECRET, TUUUUUNEEELLL!”

As long as we have that, we’ll be fine.

P.S.: I can understand some concerns about low-quality costumes, but I’m also cautiously optimistic that they’ll look better in post production, with editing, lighting, etc. Also, at least they’re not wearing f*cking grey potato sacks. Live actions are so much more fun when there’s actual colour in them.

[40sandfabulousaf]

大家好! We're experiencing another covid wave; my bad body aches started on Wednesday and worsened on Thursday. The company doctor gave me 2 days' medical leave and told me to continue testing so I did, all the way till today (it's Sunday here) and.. negative, i.e. it's the flu. I didn't feel like cooking; instead, I microwaved shrimp wanton soup noodles and made lazy girl instant ramen. Pour boiling water into the bowl, cover for 3 minutes; divide tau kwa into 2, open a can of braised peanuts and another of peas and carrots, add them to the noodles and voila!

My flu became full blown on Friday and lasted till yesterday. Finally, the sneezing fits went away; I'm left with a mild fever and body aches. There're no words to describe the contentment from tucking into steaming hot, velvety mee pok (flat yellow noodles) and QQ fish balls in a clear, tasty broth right now - pure comfort in a bowl when I'm feverish and shivering. Apart from watching baby pandas, sleeping a lot and eating delicious noodles, I followed the news of war between Palestine and Israel. Hopefully peace will return soon.

We've had yum yum teen (dark skies) and some rain this week so the craving for soup noodles was especially strong. Home to the best soups in the world, Asia offers a variety of steaming hot, delicious comfort foods to keep us toasty warm as we enter the rainy season. Still, food remains much more expensive than it used to be. Being able to chi de bao, shui de hao (have a good meal and good sleep) is a blessing and, for some, a luxury. This week, my thoughts are with the homeless and rough sleepers globally as this region enters the rainy season.

Living standards have dropped worldwide and we ought to think whether some expenses are necessary. Do we need that artisanal coffee when local brews are just as fragrant at a lower price? There're people elsewhere in the world who'll soon have to brave the elements during winter, with nothing to shield them from the bitter cold apart from tents, if they're lucky. Family, close friends and I count our blessings that nutritious meals are still within our budgets and there's a roof over our heads. We're blessed to have local coffee joints like Ya Kun, Toastbox and Fun Toast offering high quality brews at affordable prices and we should support them.

My elderly folks are cooking more at home and I encourage them to. This way, they can afford fresh vegetables, seafood, fish, meat, eggs and tau kwa (firm tofu), which they turn into many nourishing meals. I'll continue to support local food businesses that charge their customers fairly; if push comes to shove, I'll also make more meals at home for WFH lunch. After all, we got used to this during the covid lockdowns so it isn't that bad. 下次见!

[ker0senebunny]

meet me behind the mall✫*ﾟ･ﾟ

steve harrington x fem!reader

part ii — 9/25/22

summary: steve was never yours to lose. you went in knowing that, but god, you'd give anything to go back to that summer. a tale of childhood enemies, kisses in cars, and the best summer of your life. inspired by my favorite track from folklore. enemies to almost lovers. focuses primarily on seasons 2, 3, and 4. (angst, fluff, smut)

warnings: afab!fem!reader, language, angst, fluff, smut (18+), dom!steve strikes again except he's a lil meaner, sub!reader, drinking/use of alcohol, but no use of sir or daddy etc, praise + degredation combo yktv, oral (m!recieving, mentions of f!receiving), mentions of penetration (pls remember to practice safe sex!!), mentions of fingering, use of pet names, size kink (for like one second), dirty talk, no use of y/n, kinda asshole!steve but pt ii is gonna be more soft s3 steve. promise. all characters are 18+, beta'd (freakin finally) by @flwersgarden, @royalmaybank, @appocalipse, and @kissmxcheek

word count: 9,596 (jeez. now u all see why it took so long)

notes: first of all: thank you to my absolutely lovely proofreaders/editers/besties. you all are always kind, always encouraging, always loving. you motivate me on my most unmotivated days. i admire you all so much as writers and as wonderful people. with that being said, it's been a while, hasn't it! so sorry for the delay. college is very overwhelming! anyways, as you see above, the sequel will (hopefully) be out in two weeks. this is part i of iii so strap in everybody. enjoy! xox olive

p.s. 500 followers wtf??? thankyou im gonna stinkin cry. and as always, reblogs are greatly appreciated. thank u for the lurv (srsly)

when steve harrington loves someone, he makes it known. which perfectly explains why he didn’t want to make you known.

you wanted him to be the boy who walked you up your driveway, moths fluttering against the porch light overhead. you wanted him to take your chin between his fingers and tilt your lips toward his. you wanted to taste the watermelon lip balm he’d borrowed from you. you wanted him to wait until you unlocked the door, almost slipping inside, before turning around to feel the plush of his lips against yours just once more.

and you foolishly believed that he could be that boy.

instead, you got rushed calls asking you to meet him behind the mall in his BMW and a stupid nickname.

steve was probably your greatest enemy (no, you’re not exaggerating. a years-long feud has earned him that title). but it was fine. after all, you had your best friend robin. the two of you were planning on moving to california after high school, dreaming of a shabby apartment with peeling paint that you’d cover up with photos of friends and posters. maybe you’d coparent a cat. you didn’t even know what you wanted to do with your life, yet. you just couldn’t handle hawkins anymore. it was a drab little town, rusted and decaying. not quite past its prime — there wasn’t really ever a prime. you just wanted more.

steve was your next door neighbor. to say things had been rocky between the two of you would be an understatement. your parents were on good terms, and you and steve used to be sort-of-maybe-kind-of friends.

it all started when an ice cream truck pulled onto your ritzy street. you ran out of your house at full force: nine years old, with one tooth missing in the front. you had begged your mom for her spare change right before you sprinted out the door. you just had to get the last cherry ice pop. but someone was there before you; you watched as the truck driver placed a red “x” over your precious ice pop flavor. you were dejected, preparing to go back inside when you caught a glimpse of a striped shirt out of the corner of your eye. it was steve harrington, your older next door neighbor who lived just over the fence to the right of you. you threw a determined look in the direction of the brown-haired boy before marching up to him. you tapped him on the shoulder and he looked at you, confusedly. you held out your little palm, coins clinking and set in the center.

“i’ll pay you extra for that ice pop,” you said, your mouth set into a serious line. steve seemed interested, quirking his brows up, hazel eyes shimmering in the indiana humidity. “how much do you have?” he asked, nodding at your hand. you counted the coins in your hand. “i have one dollar. and i know you paid fifteen cents for that ice pop. i’ll give you the whole dollar for it.” he pondered your deal for a couple of seconds before saying, “nah, i’m good!” and walking around you, back toward his house. you turned around to chase him as as he walked toward his house. “please, steve! cherry is my favorite,” you begged, putting on your best pitiful face that always worked on your parents and stopping right in front of him. you watched as his face changed, and you thought you’d won. “oh cherry’s your favorite?” he asked. you nodded so vigorously that your summer dress waved in the muggy air. “tough luck,” he said before unwrapping the ice pop and taking a big bite in front of you. you stood there, mouth agape as he exaggeratedly enjoyed what should’ve been your ice pop, right in front of you no less! he licked his crimson-dyed mouth as he threw the barren popsicle stick into the garbage can in his driveway. “see you around, cherry,” he said as he walked up to his porch and slammed the door to his house.

that’s how you became cherry to steve and steve only. he annoyed you every day of your life with that stupid fucking nickname.

on your first day of freshman year, you popped into the entrance of hawkins high with robin, your best friend since middle school. steve saw you, whistled, and yelled down the hall, causing everyone to stare at you: “hey, sweet cherry! look at you, all grown up.” your excited face morphed into a fiery glare as you angrily walked past him, skirt swishing. his goons howled and cackled as you seethed, robin turning around to flip them off.

it wasn’t like the two of you fought every time you were around one another. okay, it totally was. but it was because he was such an insufferable dickhead and you were definitely not going to take his bullshit lying down.

he started dating nancy during your sophomore year, something you learned as you walked to his car in the morning, opening the door to the passenger side before his hand shot out to stop you. you rolled your eyebrows. “steve, i have a big history test today and i’m not in the mood for whatever the fuck you’re doing.” he rolled his eyes back at you. “we’re picking up my girlfriend,” he said, kicking at the loose gravel in his driveway. your eyebrows flew to the top of your forehead. “girlfriend?” your voice rising so high in pitch that it came out as a squeak. “and you haven’t managed to be an utter douche yet?” he rolled his eyes so hard you were afraid they'd get stuck there. “just get in the backseat, cherry,” he said as he slid into the car.

you looked at the smooth leather incredulously as steve adjusted his rearview mirror. you gingerly pushed your bag into the car, making sure your body touched the seat as little as possible. “i don’t even want to know what’s happened back here,” you said as you shuddered. steve caught your gaze in the mirror, a piece of gum popped in his mouth. “y’know, cherry, you’ve had many chances to find that out for yourself,” he said with a teasing lilt to his lips. you scrunched your nose in disgust and made a retching noise. “i’d rather drink a t-shirt through a straw,” you said in a huff. to your surprise, he actually laughed.

you hadn’t been paying attention, choosing to review your history notes one more time and so you didn’t realize you pulled up to the wheeler house. now, you were extra intrigued. steve honked twice and rolled down the window as nancy wheeler approached, giving her a kiss at which you gagged. he glared at you through the rearview mirror.

“nancy, you know cherry. my enemy,” he said as he pulled out of her driveway, a hand on the back of the passenger seat. you saw the veins and tendons in his arm flex under suntanned skin from a summer of lake days and pineapple sunscreen. nancy gave you a shy smile, which you returned. you also told her your real name and explained to her that for some reason, her dipshit boyfriend couldn’t let go of something that happened when you were kids. she laughed prettily at your words and a weird feeling settled on your chest, an unwelcome and quite frankly, bothersome weight. she returned to a gooey conversation with steve, letting you simmer uncomfortably in the backseat.

you blocked out their lovey-dovey-whatever-the-fuck with your flash cards.

you hated yourself for it, but when steve and nancy started falling apart, you were kind of glad. you’d actually gotten pretty close to nancy because of all the carpooling, often seeking one another out during your classes to giggle about something one of the basketball jocks said. so you hated yourself for your glee at seeing them leave separately at a halloween party. you didn’t even really understand why it felt like that intrusive weight had been lifted from your chest. you convinced yourself that you were just relieved that youur dear friend dumped that idiot.

at the moment, you were dressed up in your sluttiest costume, batting away gross high school boys who tried to woo you. you were dressed as a pixie: a form fitting, dark green dress, so short that the distressed skirt barely brushed the top of your thighs. you finished off your look with a cute pair of wings. you were just trying to enjoy the night with robin; the two of you made it a habit to people-watch at these things. well, because drunk people were funny and easy to make fun of. it’s not mean, it’s just the truth.

you saw steve walk in and immediately nudged robin to snort at his stupid risky business costume, but then he took his sunglasses off. and he saw you. and he looked you up and down over the edge of those stupid sunglasses. and he ran his stupid tongue over his stupid pretty mouth. and maybe it was the vodka running through you (cherry flavored of course), but god, in that moment, you just wanted him.

you shook yourself from your lustful stare and broke eye contact with him. he slipped his glasses back on and followed a very distressed looking nancy deeper into the party. again, probably the cherry vodka, but you didn’t seem to notice her coming your way. she called your name to get your attention and an easy smile made its way onto your face. “nance!” you giggled as you moved to squeeze her. she laughed at your tipsy self and made sure that you were okay before giving steve an unsure look and getting herself a drink. you were left with steve as he took off his sunglasses again, just to look you in the eye. you looked to your left, but robin was nowhere to be seen.

“you look good, cherry,” he said lowly, taking you in once again.

your breathing was a little uneven. “tha-thank you,” you said, looking at your green fingernails against the red of the solo cup in your suddenly clammy hands. he leaned one arm against the wall behind you, blocking your view of the kitchen.

“really good,” he said at a volume only you could hear. you shuddered as you felt blood rush to the surface of your cheeks, warming them to the touch. it was definitely the alcohol in your body because here you were, getting horny over steve fucking harrington. a) your enemy and b) the boyfriend of one of your friends. thank god said friend returned that instant, pulling steve away to dance, seemingly refreshed by a shot of tequila. you gave nancy's hand a squeeze before she left, mouthing the words “call me later” at her. you thought that something was off with her. obviously, she was still grieving barb’s death - something that she confided in you. but you had a feeling that there was more there.

sometimes, it’s scary how on the nose you are with things.

at least an hour ago, robin told you that she was going to walk home with vickie, a girl who was in marching band with her. you were a comfortable amount of tipsy: the kind of drunk where every blink feels like a new, warmly-tinted world. but not so drunk that you’d make catastrophic decisions.

you didn’t need alcohol to do that.

you decided that it was time to leave. you’d finally gotten bored of watching all the people you knew make a fool of themselves. you walked outside, past cups littered on the lawn and through the october chill, to see steve sitting in his car - alone. you furrowed your brow before crossing your arms to create a little warmth and walking over. you gently knocked on the driver’s side window, startling the boy. he had a vacant look in his red-rimmed eyes. steve rolled down the window before sighing out, “cherry, i’m really not in the mood to fight right now.”

now you had to know what happened.

“i’m not here to fight with you,” you said as you leaned in closer, “i saw you when i came out and just wanted to check in.” you said it so plainly, like it was an obvious truth and not a huge contradiction to the entirety of your relationship. steve felt like his lungs had started again. he rolled up the window before pushing open the passenger seat door. you’d just barely settled into the seat and closed the door before he said, “nance told me she doesn’t love me.” you turned to face him. “steve, she was super drunk-“ he looked at you with more raw emotion than you’d ever seen from him. “cherry.” he stopped you in the middle of your sentence. “i know that she meant it.” you didn’t know what to say. you didn’t know how to handle comforting the one person you’d hated for what felt like a lifetime.

you turned your whole body to face him before stretching across the console to give him an awkward hug. he went stiff in your grasp as you looped your arms around his shoulders. “what the hell are you-“ “shut up, dipshit,” you said, “i’m giving you a goddamn hug. just accept it. you can win her back, y’know? you can be sort of sweet, sometimes.” he actually relaxed at your words and pushed his cheek into the space between your collarbone and your neck. you felt him inhale against your skin and your flesh pebbled. he slowly wrapped his arms around you too, pulling you into him. you squeaked in surprise and he chuckled, the warmth and the vibrations of his low voice extended through your entire being. “thank you, cherry. needed this.” you hummed. “of course, steve. i don’t actually hate you, did you not know that?” you felt him shrug. “honestly? i couldn’t tell.” you threw your head back and laughed, the sound taking up the small amount of space in his car. as you stopped laughing, you noticed that you were almost on his lap, your hands moving to rest against his broad chest. his pretty pink pout inched closer toward yours. there was a fraction of an inch between the two of you. “steve,” you said softly into the air between you two, “we can’t. there’s still nance to think about. you haven’t actually broken up yet.” he shook his head, a hand coming to rest on your hip. you could feel the warmth of his hand through your flimsy skirt. “there’s no nance. there’s only you right now, cherry.”

when steve harrington kisses someone, he wants them to feel it. and he wants them to feel it everywhere.

you definitely did.

he pushed his silken lips to join yours, sending you into a spiral, body thrumming with feverish passion. his kiss was needy, as if you were a replacement for someone else but he just needed someone. but you didn’t care. because that wasn’t the craziest thing about this…entire experience. your arms had wound themselves around his neck, his arms around your waist, tugging you across the console.

of course, you tasted like cherries. steve groaned as he caught your bottom lip in his teeth, silently asking you to open your mouth for him. your little gasp allowed him to slip is tongue into your mouth; his big hands tugging you even more into his lap. he kissed you like it would be the last thing he ever did on this godforsaken earth. you clumsily crawled to his seat, planting yourself in his lap. you both laughed into the kiss, before melding your lips together once again. he kissed you breathless, watching as your lips shone with a mixture of his and your spit. he pulled you toward him to plant another passionate kiss on your mouth, before making his way down your neck. steve sucked little bruises into the column of your throat and savored the taste of your sweet soap. he left a vine of dark, blooming spots as you writhed and shivered on top of him. you pitched your hips over his, causing your clothed core to run over the ridge of his growing bulge. he kissed all the way down to your chest, running his hands up and down your sides, causing you to shiver. he bit down gently on the swell of your left breast, gently sliding his hand under the delicate strap of your dress, pulling down on the elastic to reveal your entire breast. you pushed your chest forward and he grunted out a laugh as he wrapped his pink pout around your stiffened, pert nub. you were throwing your head back to give him more access to your tits, lost in the pleasure, when suddenly his horn beeped — startling you both. you looked at him with your matching kiss-stung lips, your eyes wide. he was still breathing heavily.

you looked at the dark sparkle of steve’s eyes and the flush to the tips of his ears. you smiled down and leaned in to kiss him, but he turned his head. you stopped abruptly, smoothing down his collar in a calming motion. “is everything okay?” you asked delicately. even though your bodies were pressed together, you and steve couldn't have been further from one another. he ran a hand over his face and sighed. “i can’t do this cherry.” you gave him a small smile of pained understanding and slid off of his lap.

he put the car into drive.

the ride toward both of your houses was silent, save for the wind rushing past the window you opened. you’d needed to cool off after what had just occurred; you may have betrayed one of your friends by furiously making out with her boyfriend (who she thinks you hate) and you kissed steve harrington. the boy who gave you the dumbest nickname he could think of so he could use you as personal entertainment.

because that’s what he does. he uses people.

steve pulled up to your house, and as you moved to open your door, he gently took your wrist in his hold. you halted your movements, turning your head to look at him. “i just want you to know that this didn’t mean anything, cherry. it can't.” you felt as if your brain had plummeted to your feet. you blinked in shock. “what do you mean?” you asked, arms crossed in front of you, brows high. “that. in my car. it didn’t mean anything to me.” you were stunned. he kissed you first, and when you reciprocated, he reciprocated with even more fervor. you scoffed before exiting his car. “you’re never going to find ‘the one’ if you keep treating girls like shit, steve.” you slammed his car door, causing him to jump a little at the force. you trudged up the stairs to your porch as shameful tears burned at your waterline.

you heard the quiet rumble of his car as he waited for you to safely enter your home. your fingers trembled in the crisp fall air as you slipped through your door. he simply turned to go to his house. you could see the marks your teeth had left, lavender and garnet winding their way around his neck.

(and then he had the audacity to ignore you for almost an entire week.)

your parents were asleep as you padded up the carpeted stairs. you quietly shut the door to your room, running your hands over your face. there was a post it left atop the phone on your nightstand — a note from your mother. it said that you had a call from nancy and to make sure that you called her back. your still shaking hands picked up the phone, dialing the wheeler family’s number. your slightly drunken brain was all muddled, from both the alcohol and the memory of steve’s plush kisses seared into your skin. so muddled, in fact, that you’d barely remembered that it was past midnight. thankfully, it seemed that nancy was awaiting your call, picking up after only a few rings. you waited for her to say something, calling out her name gently to get her attention, closing your eyes as sobriety started to make your head ache.

”steve and i broke up.”

your eyes popped open in surprise. “what? why?” you spluttered, unsure how to support her. she seemed subtly different — distanced, even. “i don’t think i ever loved him,” she said. she sounded exhausted. “i’m so sorry nance,” you said, heart making a dull, incessant thudding in your ribcage. sure, on a technicality he’d been single, but now he was your friend’s ex. she sighed into the phone. you could picture her curling and uncurling the thick, coiled wire as she talked to you. “eh, it was for the better. he just used me to prove that he could get me, y’know? i don’t think he actually wanted me.” you didn’t say anything. of course you knew better. of course you knew that he did, in fact, actually love her. “what an asshole!” you said indignantly, “give me the word nance and i’ll climb into his room from mine and rock his shit.” her laugh trickled out of the tiny speaker, crackled but joyous. “you always make me feel better,” she said to you in earnest, “thank you. you’re just one of those people who would never hurt me. i’ll call you tomorrow.” your pulse seemed to fall out of your body. but you didn’t tell her that; she needed the you she knew, not the you who almost fucked her ex two seconds after they broke up. “of course, nance. i love you.” that’s what you settled on. you both bid one another good night and hung up the phone. you grabbed your stuffed teddy and curled around it, falling just on the line between consciousness and sleep.

you had a reputation of being a good babysitter so when claudia henderson calls, you pick up. dustin was one of your favorite kids in hawkins, constantly making you laugh with his quips and contagious smile. on that particular fall weekend morning (claudia had a wedding to go to), dustin was determined to see steve. he kept dragging out your name, pestering you with a whiny tone of voice. “please!” he said as you spread mustard on his sandwich at the kitchen counter. “absolutely not!” you sang, keeping up with your rhythmic smearing. dustin groaned and put his head on the counter like a toddler. he said something, but it was muffled by the granite surface. “come again?” you said with a small smile on your face at his antics. dustin raised his head, blowing curls away as they blocked his vision. “he’s just helping me look for dar— i mean, for mews. please?” you sighed at his pleas. you couldn’t deny that your heart clenched at the thought of the innocent boy and his missing cat. “fine,” you said, rinsing off the knife you’d been using and giving dustin his lunch. “but i’m not letting you out of my sight. i’m in charge. capiche?” he nodded and thanked you through his chewing, oblivious to the storm rampaging through your mind at the thought of seeing steve.

you’d been trudging through dry leaves for what felt like hours, but was probably more like 20 minutes. when you’d arrived at this shady meeting spot with dustin, steve spat out your name. you winced internally at the omission of the nickname you claimed to hate. “what’s she doing here, henderson?” he asked, with venom lacing his voice. as if you were the one to initiate a kiss, tell him that it meant nothing, and ignore you for no reason. he was giving dustin quite a look, one you took to mean that he didn’t want you there because of the kiss. what you didn’t know was that steve wanted you as far away as possible from the dangers of the upside down. but of course, you had no idea that steve and dustin had been through literal hell together. “i’m in charge of dustin for today, so i’m staying,” you said, crossing your arms and raising your eyebrows in a challenge. “stubborn as always, cherry,” he said into the empty forest, not even bothering to look at you.

so, you spat back, “fuck you, harrington.”

“almost did, baby,” he said over his shoulder.

your mouth was agape. your vision turned white hot with rage at his immaturity. so you did what any rational person would do.

a crack rang out and spread throughout the wood. steve held his cheek where an imprint of your delicate hand was beginning to redden. your own hand stung from the force with which you slapped him, a tingle spreading through your palm. dustin looked on with shock in his big brown eyes. steve just turned toward the abandoned railroad track and began walking, rubbing his jaw.

the two of them were spreading meat all over the forest floor, and when you’d asked, dustin had given you some half-baked excuse. you couldn’t bring yourself to believe it, but you were so stressed out that you let it slide. you walked with your arms crossed to keep out the autumn bluster that permeated your cream-colored sweater. the red ribbon in your hair blew gently in the breeze, and steve thought about his hands embedded in your hair, his mouth on yours, you, in his car. in his bed, waking up to your face. he returned to the present when he heard you ask dustin about if he was sure "mews" was in this “creepy forest.”

you were looking at steve, too. he looked a little too good in his jeans and gray members only jacket. his hair was coiffed over as per usual, but you kept thinking about how you’d mussed it beyond repair the last time you saw him. you felt embarrassment and a little excitement rush to your cheeks as you tried to look anywhere but at him and his stupid, perfect face. and he had a bat with nails in it. why he took it with him to look for a cat, you didn’t know. but it was kind of hot.

he’s a dick, you quickly chastised yourself.

“dude, that’s not how you impress a girl,” you heard steve say. you were intrigued. you knew that dustin probably also told steve about his crush on max, and steve being just so good with girls was about to give him some advice.

“i don’t know. you’re trying way too hard,” steve continued.

dustin rolled his eyes in exasperation. “well, not everyone can have your perfect hair. alright?” he retorted.

steve rolled his eyes right back. “it’s not about the hair, man. the key with girls is just…just acting like you don’t care.”

you snorted at that, causing both of them to turn to look at you. steve narrowed his eyes as you challenged his words. “got something to add, cherry?” he said with that tone of voice that made you want to tackle him. a small smile made its way to your pretty lips. the same lips that steve couldn’t get himself to stop thinking about. “that’s not how you show a girl that you like her.” dustin was suddenly enraptured by your perspective. “what do i have to do? tell me!” the boy begged you. you laughed at his urgency. “show her that you do care. communicate with her. be clear about what you want with her,” you said with certainty, before continuing, “be kind to her. do something for her that you know she’ll like.” steve was silent. you thought he was upset by you stealing his thunder, but really, he was deep in thought. why was he thinking about you? why was he thinking about how he kept your favorite watermelon lip balm in his car (just in case you needed some. he definitely didn’t use it to see what you’d taste like)? why was he thinking of sneaking through your window to kiss you silly and wake up with his face in your neck, your hands on his back? why was he thinking of you, his cherry, instead of nancy? he blinked to clear his mind of thoughts of you, before grumbling something about the light disappearing.

on that day, you were supposed to be watching dustin. except for the fact that the child you were supposed to keep safe, was very much indeed, missing. you’d called him down for dinner over 15 minutes ago. he told you that he was going to do some homework after your excursion with steve. when no response came from his room, you’d searched the entire henderson household, frantically moving shower curtains and drapery aside. you almost gave up when you saw that the laundry room window was open, and you knew that your favorite little shit had gotten out. you went out into the living room to center yourself as you felt panic sink in. a loud crackle brought you out of your deep breathing. it was one of dustin’s extra walkie talkies on the coffee table. you grabbed it and fiddled with the dial until you heard small voices calling dustin’s name. “dustin! where are you? we’re almost at the junkyard.” a beep, another crackle. “almost there! it was tough to get out, guys. give me a break.” it was dustin. your mind went into protective mode as you shoved your feet into your converse and grabbed the walkie talkie. you rushed outside and took one of the spare bikes in the hendersons' garage before booking it to the old junkyard, the light sinking beneath the horizon and dusting the world around you in night.

when you arrived, you saw dustin and lucas (whom you knew), along with a redheaded girl and wait— steve? “dustin!” you yelled, worry evident in your voice. everyone’s heads whipped toward you, all four sets of eyes equally as wide. you marched toward the group, wading through the darkness and the heavy fog, fully prepared to drag dustin home. “cherry, you can’t be here,” steve said, taking a step toward you. “don’t tell me what to do, harrington. i mean nothing to you, remember?” steve didn’t know how to respond. his mouth moved as he reached for some way to tell you, no, cherry, honey. i can’t let you see this.

“i’m staying,” you said with finality. steve moved to protest again, but you both jumped at a rattling nearby. something growled and steve raised his bat. “cherry, take the kids and get in the bus,” he said, eyes flitting around — alert. “eat shit harring-” “cherry,” he said. he said that stupid nickname like he’d never said it before, urgently, tenderly, begging. you nodded breathing out a little “okay” as you herded the children toward the rusty vehicle. you all peered out as steve called to the creature, taunting it. lucas was looking through his binoculars when he gasped. “steve,” he screamed. “watch out!” steve kept his eyes trained on the monstrosity emerging from the fog. “a little busy here,” he said, licking his lips in anticipation of a fight. “three o’clock!” lucas yelled again. before you knew it, dustin was running toward the bus door, throwing it open, and calling steve’s name, and yelling “abort! abort!” you pulled dustin back in, hands trembling as you saw one of the creatures lunge at steve. he dodged successfully, rolling over the hood of a desolate car. another one launched itself at him and your heart seized in fear. luckily, he was fast enough to swing his bat at it; it landed with a half-whimper, half-growl. you realized that you were screaming now too.

“steve! hurry!” you cried, desperation tearing through in your voice. he was running now, running harder than ever now that he’d heard your sobs for him. he jumped in at the last second, just as you threw your arms out and shut the door. the creature’s body landed with a sickening thud against the door. more creatures gathered with the original, scratching at the door and shaking the bus. you scrambled to get the kids behind you as steve fortified the door. one broke through the door; everyone was yelling but you pushed the kids to the back of the bus as steve beat the monster with his bat. you joined him at the front, taking a nearby metal rod to help, knocking the beast to the ground, where it heaved weakly. one of its brethren saw your attack and charged at you. steve reacted in a heartbeat. he was on the monster in an instant, viciously hitting it with his bat. after a few more seconds, the creature made a shuddering move before laying still. the one previously attacking steve seemed to orient itself. it snarled, all dripping teeth and ragged growls, and threw itself at steve. he was unsuccessful, and to your horror, was about to go for steve’s throat. your name was caught on his tongue as he looked to you for comfort, for anything. and he saw it in your eyes. he saw everything you were afraid to tell him. but then, the monsters seemed to be enchanted by something, something you couldn’t perceive. they suddenly leaped out and off of the bus. relief flowed through your veins as you realized everyone was in tact. steve was in tact. you noticed that the two of you were smushed together as the kids regrouped next to you. you both pretended not to notice that steve’s arm was encircling your waist, rubbing at the sliver of skin that your top revealed.

“what the fuck was that steve?” you breathed out. you felt his chest rise beneath your back. “a demodog.” “a what?” he sucked in a breath, tensing underneath you, before launching into an explanation about all things upside down. at the end of his rant, you were quiet. “that’s why i didn’t want you here,” he said as if he weren’t sure you’d be listening. but you were; he held your attention fully. “i didn’t want you to have to see this.” you turned to face him, interlocking your fingers. “well, i’m sure as hell not leaving you now, harrington.” “as if you could ever stay away from me, cherry baby.”

oh, how right he was.

since steve had revealed the upside down to you, the two of you had been through a lot. more than the average enemies would go through together. he’d been beaten up by billy hargrove (someone you never particularly liked), and you’d sobbed over his bruised face, blood crusting in the little fissures left by billy’s knuckles. he’d woken up, dizzy and in pain to feel the wetness of your tears on his face. “i’m okay, cherry. look at me, hey? i’m fine,” he said, reaching up to put his palm on your cheek. he kept a secure hold on you as you traversed the complex tunnels, crushing you into his chest when he thought you two were about to die in a herd of inter-dimensional monsters. you’d both pulled away quickly, cheeks warm and clearing your throats nervously. surely enemies do that, right?

so now, steve was only more of a pain in your ass. especially since he made your heart flutter, since he made you perk up at just one whiff of rosemary and laundry detergent.

when starcourt mall opened up over the summer, robin got a summer job. the hendersons didn’t really need you as much this summer, and you already had a pretty good babysitting gig going with the waldens who lived on the other side of you. so in your spare time, you’d go visit your best friend.

the only issue was that steve pain-in-your-ass harrington worked with her.

sure, the free ice cream may be worth it, but was it really worth it to see him? especially after that halloween night. at the end of the day, you loved robin more and could shove the stinging thrill of seeing steve to the bottom of your stomach.

the only issue was that he looked too damn good in his dumb fucking sailor uniform. and you kept thinking about kissing him again.

both robin and steve were working today; you were perched behind the counter on a stool that robin had designated for you. though you’d tried to forget about "it" and him, you just couldn’t. yeah, you asked him to forget, but it seemed like he remembered it just as vividly as you did. the two of you tried to stay on opposite sides of the store, which was difficult considering that it was extremely small. and the area behind the counter just had to be narrow. he’d brush by your legs, causing your spine to stiffen and a sharp inhale to make its way down to your lungs. he’d grace you with a faint, “sorry, cherry.” you’d tuck your legs in closer to your seat. you wouldn’t — and couldn’t — look each other in the eye. robin, on the other hand, was completely oblivious, chattering away to you both. you’d noticed that the two of them were getting closer. you weren’t the type of person to tell your friends who they could and couldn’t be friends with, but robin knew that steve used to be your enemy. not used to be, you reminded yourself, he is my enemy.

it was one of the slower days that june — the morning of what would inevitably become the friday rush. the store was quiet, save for the hum of the freezer. you were enjoying your sample of cherry-almond swirl as robin checked the freezer one last time. “shit,” she muttered, sliding one of the frosted doors open. you cocked your head at her, spoon still in your mouth. robin turned to steve. “i have to go refill the cookies and cream. we accidentally put two chocolate chips in. be right back!” she was out the door before either you or steve could offer your help in the larger freezer in the back (aka avoid one another). the hum of the fluorescent lights was louder, grainier, invading your headspace. the edges of the plastic spoon now stung the sides of your mouth and the almond flavor left a bitterness on your tongue. you took the spoon out and chucked it into the “used spoons” cup, all the way from your little stool. “nice shot,” steve said, causing you to whip your head around to look at him, surprise sparking in your eyes at the sound of his voice. “thanks,” you said dryly. it was quiet for a beat before you took the initiative to speak again. “i don’t think i’ve ever told you, but i’m sorry about you and nance,” you said. he gave you a tight smile. “right,” he said, “you two are close.” you mirrored his smile. “yeah. i know you tried your best,” you said awkwardly. “thanks. i just don’t know if i’m meant to have her,” he said with melancholy weaving through his words. steve looked like he wanted to say something else. just as he opened his mouth, you both turned toward the door as you heard robin mumbling about how heavy the ice cream was. steve quickly turned toward you, “meet me behind the mall. after my shift. please?” you nodded slightly, suspicion clouding your eyes. he reached out to squeeze your hand, moving toward the register and giving the standard scoops ahoy greeting as the afternoon rush began.

steve had left scoops maybe fifteen minutes ago. you nibbled at your lip, another spoonful of cherry-almond swirl left a sweetness on your tongue. the coldness sitting in your mouth faded away as you checked the clock again. robin looked at you as you raised your eyes toward the clock again.

“go.”

“what?” you said, only half paying attention, lost in your thoughts about a certain boy’s freckles.

robin dragged out your name with a playful impatience.

“go.” you furrowed your brow as she plunged the scoops ahoy’s grey shag of a mop into soapy water. “dude, it’s okay. i’m getting a ride from my mom. i don’t know who this is about, but if you look at the clock one more time i’ll never give you my blessing to be with them,” she said as she slapped the mop on the tiled floor.

you looked at robin, still chewing your lip, plastic spoon in hand. “you sure, robbie?” she flashed you a toothy smile. “promise, cherry,” she said with a wink. “don’t you dare call me that, buckley,” you said as you tossed your spoon and pulled on your cardigan. she cackled as you swung open the door, turning left toward the parking lot. you made a sharp right through the food court to get to the back of the mall. through the smudgy, glassy exterior, you could see steve’s face illuminated by the lights in his BMW. you took a calming, deep breath as you pushed through the doors. steve’s windows were open; you could hear music coming out (you could swear that it was the talking heads). you smiled unconsciously at his choice. maybe somewhere along the line, in between dusty, rotting alternate dimensions and “placid” morning car rides, he’d listened when you blabbered on about your favorite band.

he heard you approaching and suddenly straightened up, running a hand through his hair. “hey, cherry,” he said breathily. “hi,” you said plainly, still suspicious about this whole meetup. “i just want to say that i’m sorry,” he said. you looked at him unimpressed; after all, he did have quite a few things to apologize for.

“for that night, at the halloween party.” you caught his eyes when your head snapped to your left, a wide, pained look mirrored in your own irises. your silence scared him — he’d expected more yelling. he deserved it. he huffed out a tiny sigh, before speaking again: “i missed you. i missed having you around because cherry, i don’t hate you. i really don’t. our little arguments or whatever? those were the best part of my day. and then they stopped because i fucked up.”

you smiled at that, and he mirrored it: the prettiest smile you’d ever seen. he laughed a little, “but i couldn’t stop thinking about you and how i missed the smell of your cinnamon gum in my car.” your eyes were softer now, glistening with something between a kind forgiveness and an inkling of playfulness. “and then we got thrown into the upside down and didn’t really get to talk about it since, y’know, we could’ve died at any moment? and then i found myself still missing you, because all that wildness wasn’t enough.”

you let the sentence hang in the air before telling him, “i missed you too, harrington.”

you’d barely noticed that you and steve were drifting closer and closer together. you felt little puffs from his plump lips brush over your own pout. “cherry-” he started. “steve,” you pleaded, hands spreading across his chest. he pulled back a little, grabbing your hand gently when he saw hurt flash over your features. “i just want you to know that i’m not looking for anything serious.”

oh. of course.

he sucked in a breath through his teeth as your face hardened into steely ire. “i really loved nancy. i can’t get over her that quickly.” you pulled your hand from his. “but cherry, i can’t stop thinking about you. and that night, god. i just keep thinking about what i would’ve done to you if we hadn’t stopped.”

something heavy settled in the pit of your stomach, the feeling making its way into your core.

“show me,” you said.

he smiled that harrington smile before slotting his lips against yours again — deeper, frenzied, hungry, like he wanted to pull the taste of cherry-almond swirl from your mouth.

(“show me,” you had said. what you really meant was, “i’ll take any part of you that i can get.”)

you felt him harden in his jeans, his cock pressing up against the rigid seams. he hissed as you trailed your hand down his chest, toward his bulge. you looked up at him, eyes glittering and so sinfully innocent. you pressed a kiss over where his arousal was evident and his eyes rolled back in his head. “cherry, baby, honey. i could cum in my pants if you touch me like that one more time.” you smiled at that, delicate hands palming him gently, kissing his neck a pretty sea of pinks and reds, and reaching toward his zipper. “jesus, fuck. cherry,” he rasped as he pulled your head off of him by the back of your pretty locks. your neck was craned back as you looked into his dark hazel eyes. “are you going to be a good girl for me?” he asked with a taunting lilt to his throaty voice. you nodded. he smirked. “words, cherry.” “yes, i’ll be your good girl, steve,” you said, hands already wandering, mouth watering at the thought of his scent, his cock, anything — all over you. he tutted at your ministrations, pulling you off of him once again. “good girls listen to directions,” he said, lips twitching into a smirk.

“bad girls don’t get to cum.”

his hand that was holding your head had changed position, reaching to grasp your chin between his fingers, squishing your cheeks a little.

“do you think you’ve been a good girl, cherry?”

you mumbled out a soft “no” around the restriction of his fingers.

he kissed you after you answered, a soft, plush press of his lips against yours. you tilted your head forward to get more from his mouth, more from him. but he pulled away and you whined. “you’ve been bad, cherry. so now i’m gonna fuck that pretty mouth,” he growled as your thighs clenched. it didn’t go unnoticed, and steve was not-so-secretly proud of himself that he got you flustered. “and if you touch yourself, you will be punished. got it?” he said, cementing his rules in you. at the talk of punishment, steve sobered up for a second.

“what’s our safeword gonna be, princess?”

“starcourt?” you suggested. he smiled.

“perfect. now, if you let me fuck your mouth and use you as my little cocksleeve, maybe you can cum,” he said so sweetly, as if he needed to wrap you around his finger more. you suckled at his neck as you unzipped his jeans, tugging impatiently to get them off. your mouth watered at the thought of his cock; it was probably pretty and red and leaking — all for you. his boxers were next. his cock sprang out of the confines of his boxers, slapping the leaking tip onto his stomach. he exhaled as the cooler air of the car hit his shaft. he held out his palm to you as you admired his length. “spit,” he commanded. you tucked your hair behind your ears and did as he instructed. he took his hand and used your spit to slick up his member. you only just realized just how big it was, biting your lip nervously. he noticed, of course. “what’s wrong, angel?” he said, reaching toward you to rub your lower back gently. “is it gonna fit in my mouth?” you pouted. you wanted it to. like, really wanted it to. he glowed at your innocent question. “it will eventually, baby. maybe not today, but someday soon.” his words seemed to comfort you and you happily took over stroking his shaft with your spit. he threw his head back against the headrest. “fuck, cherry. s’much better than i imagined. so much better.” now it was your turn to glow, thinking about steve fucking his fist in the shower, in his bed, to the thought of you, his childhood enemy. your body felt warm all over and so you took a leap, sponging an experimental peck onto his reddened tip. his hips jolted forward at your touch, causing your eyes to widen and you to pull back. “shit. sorry, honey. just can’t get enough of you,” he said with a gentle stroke to your head. “s’okay, stevie,” you replied sweetly, “wanna make you feel good.” you then bravely dove forward and slotted your mouth over his cock, swirling your tongue around the head and gagging as you took as much of him as you could. his eyes rolled back into his head and he threaded his fingers through your hair. “holy shit, cherry,” he said, “so good. so wet, so warm f’me.” once you figured out how to breathe through your nose, you slowly started bobbing your head up and down. you hollowed out your cheeks, stroking what couldn’t fit in your mouth (yet). on one of your little moves, your teeth grazed the underside of his cock, where a vein bulged. he hissed and you felt more precum spurt from his tip. you ran your tongue over it to soothe the sting your teeth left, worried that you’d made a mistake. but the unmistakable “fuck, just like that, cherry” from above you was enough to reassure you.

you pulled off for a breather, pressing wet, sloppy kisses up and down his length as you recovered. he was just about to ask if you were okay before you took initiative again, taking him further down your throat this time. he gasped and moaned and whimpered and you were in heaven. you were surrounded by him: his musk, his heavy balls gently held in your hands, the hard muscle of his thick, hairy thighs trapping your head. “can i hold your head, angel?” he asked you, ever so gently. you nodded while keeping yourself latched onto his cock, the heavy weight on your tongue oddly comforting. he gently grasped the back of your hair in one hand before thrusting his hips into your mouth, feeding his cock into your warm, wanton mouth. you gagged a little in surprise, but steve held your hair tighter and told you to just relax your throat. at his words, you did (well, you tried with a little whine), and he slipped in further. the spit that had gathered at the corners of your lips started to spill over as you attempted to take him all the way. you hadn’t expected yourself to be getting this wet over him getting off, but here you were, making a mess of your cotton panties as you sputtered choked, eyes glossy from tears. your throbbing pussy was visible through the sheerness of the fabric that your wetness had left. you pressed your thighs together to garner some relief for your poor pulsating cunt, but you remembered that if you were good, you’d get to cum too.

steve was thrusting into your mouth now, enraptured by the warmth of your wet tongue and swollen lips — the same mouth that he dreamed about kissing almost every night. he moaned above you at the sight of your spit-slicked lips, how your eyes were wide and dumb as he fucked your throat. "holy shit, cherry. my perfect little slut, such a good little whore f'me," he panted. you locked eyes with steve as his dick rapidly plunged in and out of your tight throat and at your heated gaze, he was cumming. hot, salty ropes hit the back of your throat. you made a little noise of satisfaction, humming around his shaft as your mouth filled with his seed. steve shot one last load into your mouth, groaning out your name — your real name — and collapsing, almost boneless in his seat. you pulled your mouth off of him, swallowing his load and giving the still-flushed head a soft kiss. he tasted salty and woody. you felt syrupy slick rush out of your fluttering hole at the taste left on your tongue. he ran a hand through his hair, cheeks red, still breathing heavily. “open your mouth,” he said, looking at you and tapping your cheek lightly. you did as he asked and stuck out your tongue for good measure. he gave a pleased hum when he saw your tongue dart out to lick a little bit of his seed that was left on the corner of your mouth. “good girl. you swallowed,” he said. you burned at his praise. "thank you, stevie," you said shyly. he bent down to sprinkle kisses across your face.

your cheeks glowed with arousal as his hand gently gripped the back of your neck, casually keeping you in the palm of his hand. he slanted his mouth over yours, swiping his tongue over your own and hummed when he tasted a remnant of himself in your waiting mouth. you smiled into the kiss, the vibrations tickling your pretty pout. he pulled back, his eyes and lips shining. suddenly he was pushing a hand through his hair and checking himself out in his rearview mirror. you looked at him, mouth pursed in confusion and discomfort at the pressure between your legs. “steve,” you whined. “what’s up, cherry baby?” he said as he gently buckled you in. “don’t i get to cum? i was so good,” you begged, grabbing his bicep between his smaller palms. the polyester of his scoops uniform shifted under your pawing hands as he extended his arm behind your headrest, tendons flexing as he reversed out of the parking lot.

“you were a good girl, but only after you had my cock in your mouth.”

so that was it? he wasn’t going to get you to your release? your mouth fell agape and you detached yourself from the boy, sliding back in your seat and watching hawkins speed by.

suddenly, you were pulling up to your house. your parents had left the foyer light on, keeping the entryway to your house bathed in its soft brilliance. it felt like déjà vu; you, flustered and exiting steve’s car after he’s been an asshole to you — yet again.

you resolved to never see him again as you cursed yourself for thinking he’d changed. but this time, he gently tugged you to him, saying your name quietly, and lifting your chin up to tilt your precious face toward his. he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, one that filled the small space of his car with your deep inhale. you decided that this was your favorite kiss with him that you’d ever had. you looked at him with little hearts in your eyes as he smoothed your wildly messy hair back. he smiled at you, gently purring “don’t you dare touch yourself tonight.” you opened your mouth defiantly at his orders. he shushed you with a quick kiss to the corner of your lips that left you wanting more. “i’ll know if you do,” he said with a wink.

and you knew that you’d definitely be seeing him again.

you did cum that next day. three times to be exact; once on his fingers, once in his mouth, and once on his cock. he’d looked up at you from between your quivering thighs, asking you if he'd made it up to you. you nodded blearily, desperate to get his tongue on your hot core once again.

but whatever summer love, saying “us” moments you had, had very quickly become much deeper. you knew you were in deep shit when you realized you two were playing house after a sleepover at steve’s. you’d walked downstairs to see him swaying gently, nursing a cup of coffee in his boxers. you were wearing one of his old basketball t-shirts: sun-faded and soft and steve. he gave you a lazy smile as he dropped a kiss on your mouth, tasting of the vanilla creamer he swore he kept around “just for you, cherry. that shit’s disgusting.” you wrapped your arms around him; he sighed against your mouth as your fingertips began to rub his lower back with such care, such sweetness. “morning, stevie,” you said through a delicate yawn. ““mm mornin’ cherry,” he said, dipping down to leave a smattering of kisses across your neck and clavicle as you held each other in the sun-soaked kitchen. you silently wished to yourself that the two of you would stay like this, preserved in a memory forever. that you wouldn’t have to return to the world where you “hated” each other. that you could live together in a house of your own, with your own rich coffee scent filling the ground floor, without the upside down. your eyes snapped open at your wandering thoughts. no, you told yourself, it's steve. of course he ate you out on the kitchen floor before bending you over the counter. and of course, in the afterglow as you laid atop the cool tile, you just had to realize that you loved steve harrington.

“always so good f’me,” he rumbled, tracing his blunt nails on your back, raising goosebumps on his path. you looked into his cinnamon eyes, absorbing the ring of mossy green around his irises.

“anything for you, stevie,” you cooed, putting a veil of satin over your voice to mask the churning of your emotions.

“careful, cherry. i might start thinking that you’ve got a crush on me.”

oh, he had no idea.

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[drunkkenobi]

Hey nerds (affectionate), want a spreadsheet update before the big Ghost Files premiere?

I maintain my assertion from the last spreadsheet update that a lot of casual Watcher fans (and to an extent, Watcher themselves), have been biding their time until GF comes out. Views across every show have been soft this summer, at least compared to previous seasons of things. I don’t really know why, especially with Dish Granted. You could argue that the guests this season weren’t as YouTube friendly, but that’s not right either (Zach Kornfeld is as YT friendly as they come). Only the Uncle Roger episode is in line with season 2′s numbers so far, so I really don’t know. The one thing with food shows, however, is that they often continue to grow in the month or two after they’ve aired, so hopefully that will continue with this season.

I’ve seen some Reddit bros say they didn’t like this season of DG for various and mostly dumb reasons, but I wonder if that sentiment is broader than just that demographic. It’s disappointing, regardless. DG remains a very warm and funny show that showcases food and culture in a number of loving ways. Steven made it a point this season to showcase other people in helping him cook, which helps Steven from a practical standpoint, but also gives the show more points of view. And despite not knowing a lot of the guests this season beforehand, Steven and the show made each dish personal, just like the previous seasons. Anyway, DG rant over, go watch DG.

No idea if Pretty Historic’s numbers are enough for a second season, but I was encouraged by the team asking for subjects after the pilot season ended. I think this show has a lot of potential, so I really do hope to see Watcher give it a second chance (and with more promo).

I have no idea how Ghost Files is going to do, but I suspect it will be massive. I’m so interested to compare it to Unsolved’s numbers in particular. I’m also extremely interested to see how and if GF boosts other Watcher shows. This is why I wanted to post an update today, to have a record of the week before across all Watcher videos.

For posterity, Watcher currently has 188,974,274 views across 213 videos for an average of 887,203 views per video. Very interested to see how GF changes that.

That’s all I have for this one. See you once some ghosts have been filed!

[castiellesbian]

i feel like i need a glossary of terms or a contact list for all these people involved with the show. i have shit memory and dont pay attention to the credits who is sera (sara??) and why does everyone hate her!! why is he Bobo!!!!!! please... has anyone posted about this im desperate

lol well including everyone involved with the show would be difficult, but I’ll give you some highlights

Eric Kripke: creator of Supernatural, showrunner for seasons 1-5. People have differing opinions about him but general people enjoyed his run and he’s considered the best showrunner in the series overall. Not much to say because there’s a lot to say lmao (notable episodes: “Pilot,” “Lazarus Rising,” and “Swan Song”)

Sera Gamble: writer who was involved from the beginning of the show, became showrunner after Kripke left. Her seasons, 6 and 7, are typically regarded as the weakest seasons. She was a huge brothers-only supporter, and was responsible for Misha being written out of the show (as well as Jim Beaver, Bobby) in order to get the show to just be about the brothers again. There’s a lot of drama regarding her treatment of Misha/Cas, but more recently she’s known for the Magicians debacle, a horrendous example of the Bury Your Gays trope. She’s also involved with (the showrunner of?) You on Netflix. She was a pretty good writer, but overall fans dislike her because of her showrunning tenure (notable episodes: “Faith” with Raelle Tucker, “Death’s Door,” “The Born-Again Identity”)

Jeremy Carver: writer from season 3 that was promoted to showrunner from seasons 8 through.... some time in 12, the timeline has been a little murky to me. He was the one who brought Cas back into the main plot, as well as allowing the deancas storyline to become genuine subtext (we can argue whether it was queerbaiting or what he was intending to do if he had been running the series finale, but yeah). Unfortunately, he was also the showrunner when Charlie was killed off brutally, which dampens his legacy. People are conflicted about his seasons, but generally he’s looked upon favorably (not related, but the picture that comes up when you search him on google is NOT him, he’s really like a typical white nerdy looking dude lol) (notable episodes: “The Rapture,” “Sacrifice,” “Do You Believe in Miracles?”)

Andrew Dabb: writer from season 4, promoted to showrunner during season 12 and is the last showrunner of Supernatural (he wrote the finale). He was well-liked by deancas fans for awhile because of how much screentime they were allowed to give, and because of the focus on extended/found family. Sam and Dean only fans didn’t like him for the same reasons. Unfortunately, HIS legacy has been marred by the awful series finale, though it’s debated whether that was his fault or because of network meddling. (notable episodes: “Dark Side of the Moon” with Daniel Loflin, “The Prisoner,” “Moriah”)

Robert Singer: executive producer since the beginning of the show (he’s also co-showrunner throughout Supernatural, but I don’t think he typically was involved with the plotlines too often). He’s directed quite a few episodes, including the infamous wire fight episode (s13 finale) as well as the series finale. Married to Eugenie Ross-Leming, writer of the show

Eugenie Ross-Leming/Brad Buckner: writing partners TECHNICALLY from season 1, but they only wrote one episode until they were brought back in season 7. They are regarded as the worst writers in all of Supernatural, responsible for tactless death scenes of fan-favorites (and typically minorities) like Kevin, Charlie, and Eileen. They also feature a gross amount of dubcon/noncon, racism, weird unnecessary sex stuff, and are SUPER into Lucifer for some unknown reason (they have a crush on Mark Pellegrino I guess). They’re also just kind of bad writers in general, their pacing is weird and their plots convoluted. To be fair, though, they have written some good moments, like Dean trying to reach Cas in Hell’s Angel and Dean’s confessional scene in Paint It Black. But overall, they suck. Why are they still on the show even though BOTH sides of the fandom (who never agree on ANYTHING) dislike them? Well, because Eugenie is married to Singer. Nepotism. (notable episodes, the ones I can stand to watch lmao: “Holy Terror,” “Hell’s Angel,” “Our Father Who Aren’t in Heaven”)

Ben Edlund: writer from season 2 who left after season 8, but people STILL talk about him simply because he is arguably the strongest writer of the series. Cas fans particularly like him because he did most of the heavy-lifting regarding Cas’ characterization. He also wrote the famous bi!Dean scene with Aaron in season 8, where Dean is flustered after being flirted with. (notable episodes: “On the Head of a Pin,” “The French Mistake,” and my all-time favorite “The Man Who Would Be King”)

Robert “Bobo” Berens: writer from season 9, his first episode was “Heaven Can’t Wait,” which is all you really need to know about his influence on the deancas storyline. He’s also gay, so people particularly enjoy seeing how he approaches destiel in his episodes since it’s not just another straight guy potentially just catering to fans. He was also the one who was meant to go off and run Wayward Sisters, and is responsible for a lot of their development in recent seasons. I believe he also created Rowena? He wrote the episode this season where Cas confesses his love to Dean (along with other heavy deancas episodes like “The Trap”). Sam fans typically don’t like him because he doesn’t give him much focus. (notable episodes: “Heaven Can’t Wait,” “Who We Are,” “Wayward Sisters” with Andrew Dabb)

Steve Yockey: writer from season 12 through the beginning of season 15. Also gay, and also responsible for deancas moments in recent years. Generally loved for his deancas subtext but ALSO because he is an amazing writer who came out with iconic episodes. (notable episodes: “Celebrating the Life of Asa Fox,” “Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets,” “Peace of Mind” with Meghan Fitzmartin)

Robbie Thompson: writer from seasons 7 through 11, and wrote some fan favorite episodes in the meantime. He is also the creator of fan favorite characters like Charlie and Eileen. He was also one of the few writers who was vocally supportive of destiel during his tenure rather than just later. I’m not implying anything about his intentions, but it was validating for him to encourage fans during a time where most of the cast/crew ignored or actively dismissed it. Plus his episodes are just fun! (notable episodes: “LARP and the Real Girl,” “Fan Fiction,” “Baby”)

Meredith Glynn: writer since season 12, has worked closely with Bobo during their seasons together. She and Bobo cowrote “The Future,” which is the mixtape episode, so she has been taken in by deancas fans haha. She also wrote the episode where Cas makes the deal with the Empty, so it’s pretty safe to say she and Bobo had worked on the deancas plotline together :) She’s also liked some deancas-related tweets on twitter, so she’s being subtly supportive (notable episodes: “Regarding Dean,” “The Future” with Robert Berens, “Byzantium”)

Davy Perez: writer since season 12 (a lot of the ones I’ve mentioned are, since this is when Dabb became showrunner and made changes in the writers room). His episodes tend to either be horror or bizarre. I mention him because he’s responsible for episodes like “Stuck in the Middle (With You)” (Cas’ first “I love you”) and “Tombstone” (aka Brokebacknatural lmao). I don’t know much about him otherwise, but that’s why he’s brought up usually (notable episodes: “Stuck in the Middle (With You),” “Tombstone,” “Atomic Monsters”)

hopefully this helps, and hopefully I didn’t forget about anyone major. There have been a LOT of people behind the scenes so it’s hard to say who to include. Like, I didn’t mention Jerry Wanek, Jim Michaels, Kim Manners, Thomas J. Wright, or others who might be mentioned from time to time.

[emocatkeith]

After some encouragement from the Community Discord, I went ahead and came up with an idea for a possible prompt event for this upcoming December that focuses on Inscryption! I don't think I'll want to change the prompts every year, but still, this post is for the first one: 2021!

Hopefully, this can help stretch people's creative skills and let them practice more! It should also be noted that doing every day is far from a requirement. Hell, you can just do one day, or none at all! Like I said before, this is a fandom event, not something that someone has to do.

Any art medium is welcome: drawings and fanfictions are the most common, but hey, if you can make it, I consider it art! Sketches and very short fanfiction is certainly welcome as well! I'll try to lurk around in the main Inscryption tag as well as the Inscryptember 2021 tag for any creations, and I'll be happy to reblog!

That all being said, the rules and descriptions of the prompts are below. Please read the rules especially! But I hope everyone has a great season, and stay safe <3

Rules:

1. Don't pester others over continuing. If someone doesn't want or can't continue with the prompts, please don't force them. It's rude, and it should be the decision of the creator in question to decide if they would want to continue or not.

2. Please no NSFW content! I don't mind if you yourself make NSFW creations, but please be safe-for-work concerning these prompts. Be courteous of minors!

3. Be kind and have fun! Okay, this isn't a rule persay, but again, don't feel forced to do any prompts you don't like or feel tired to do. It's an event, not work! And being kind should be common standard, of course!

4. No terfs/radfems, nazis, trump supporters, none of that shit. Period.

___________________________________________

Prompts:

1.) Snowfall

- For something simple to start out with, what would the characters do when experiencing snow? Would they make snowmen/snow angels, try to lick a pole? Or just stay inside? (lmao)

2.) Ugly Sweaters

- Ugly sweaters are perfect for the winter season; how would your chosen characters react to being put in said sweater?

3.) Mistletoe

- A classic; choose two characters to be under the mistletoe! It doesn't have to be romantic either.

4.) Stocking

- Hey, what's that hiding in the stocking? Is it Lonely Wizard? A miniature version of a Scrybe? You decide!

5.) Limited Color Palette

- For this one, draw any scene of your choosing, but it must be white, red, or/and green!

6.) Sleigh-Ride

- Let's say some characters of your choosing has to go down some slope with a sleigh. Who will be the one with the reins? Who will be the (likely unfortunate) person along for the ride? Is the character both?

7.) Sleeping

- In winter, because of the weather, you might feel more drowsier than usual. How would your character(s) look like snoozing away while it snows outside?

8.) Decoration

- It's getting closer to the holidays, so quick! Show your characters of choosing decorating for the holiday in question!

9.) Fireside

- It's getting chillier by the day; toast your characters up near a fireplace!

10.) Alternate Look

- Oh, it seems like your character(s) are dressing up for the season! What would a variation of them look like if they were based on the winter season?

11.) Watching a Movie

- The Scrybes (plus any other characters) is together for a movie night! Let's see how they're doing!

12.) Naughty or Nice

- Something a bit more abstract! Draw any character of your choosing doing something nice, or doing something considered naughty!

13.) Out in the Cold

- It's getting late out, and the snow is still falling. How would the characters look or feel like being outside when it's like this, at night?

14.) Helping an Animal

- Oh no! A character(s) found an animal out in the biting cold! Show or write them helping the animal in question out!

15.) Snowstorm

- Uh oh, a bad storm blew in and now the character(s) are locked inside their house. What would they do when it's like this?

16.) Gingerbread Cookies

- A staple of the holidays, especially X-mas, is a gingerbread cookie. Draw or write any character(s) making gingerbread cookies, or if they themselves are a cookie!

17.) Snowball Fight

- Things are getting heated! Choose two or more characters participating in a snowball fight (including any on the sidelines or in-range of fire!)

18.) Music

- Music plays a large part in bringing up a festive atmosphere, so how about one or more characters dancing/listening to a song they like (or are fed up with, lol)

19.) Angst/Hurt

- Sometimes, the bitterness isn't just from the cold. Feel free to depict a heartbreaking or angsty scene of your liking.

20.) A Christmas Carol

- Most know by now about the story of Ebenezer Scrooge and how he was visited by the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Future. So, if you can, depict any of the characters in these roles.

21.) Pajamas

- Something more silly to lighten the mood; what would the character/characters look like if they wore pajamas? After all, like I mentioned before, winter weather can make you more gloomy!

22.) Gifts

- Mostly everyone likes gifts! So, show/depict a character giving to another a present for them. Bonus points if their present is shown!

23.) Not Even a Mouse

- Oh dear, any character(s) of your choosing has transformed into/reverted back to an Beast Card! What would they look/be like?

24.) Celebration

- We're doing this prompt a day early; it's finally Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, or any other winter holiday for the Inscryption gang! How are they doing today, and how are they celebrating (if they're celebrating at all.)

25.) Give and Share!

- Today is something special. Give a gift to a friend or person you admire as a present! It can be art, a short fic, or even just some kind words! As mushy as I sound, spread peace and love on planet Earth lmao

26.) Sick

- The festivities yesterday must've went too hard, because now your character(s) is down with an illness, whether that be the flu, cold, frostbite, anything. Show or write them being taken care of/taking care of themselves!

27.) Let's Get Creepy

- While this time of year is usually for joy and happiness, there are some aspects that can be creepy, unsettling, or downright terrifying. Show off/write a scene that can be considered scary or jarring!

28.) Happiest Moment

- For this prompt, depict a moment in a character/multiple characters that they felt the most happiest, comforted, or cherished in their life so far.

29.) Human/Scrybed

- Time for something a little more different! A wish/spell backfired, and now the Scrybes/characters inside Inscryption are fully human, while Luke and other human characters are turned into strange and definitely, well, not-human creatures. Let's see how they would react and/or look like!

30.) Swapped

- Following the previous prompt's general style, how would the characters act or look like if they were swapped with another character?

31.) Finally Over

- December has finally passed, and so soon will be winter. What will the character(s) of your choosing be doing when the sun and green finally comes out?

[losingitinjersey]

On Sunday we went for a short walk and a picnic!  

Unlike our previous BBQ-fueled outing, this one was purely local and featured salads from CAVA.  CAVA has been our go to takeout restaurant lately since it’s relatively low cost and we can get tasty salads that fit into our macros.  

We all (Kevin, MIL, Erp, Aug and myself) headed outside around 2:30 p.m. and walked to pick up the salads then walked back home where we immediately loaded up the car and drove to a nearby park.  Thankfully there were some empty picnic tables in the shade where we posted up and enjoyed our meal.  Erp’s first time sitting on a bench went well!  I wasn’t sure if it would work out for her and it totally did. 

Now that Erp is getting better with walking, and we got her a pair of shoes she doesn’t immediately walk out of, we were able to roam around the lawn!  It was SO fun walking all over the grass as she walked independently or held onto my hand.  Can’t wait to go on more walking adventures with her!  

Near our picnic table was a group of people (relatively around my age) who were doing some kind of organized activity.  We watched them from arrival to warm up to practice, eventually realizing they were playing kickball!  By the time we left to go home, I mustered up the courage to go over and ask if there was an opportunity to play in the future.  Please note this is ENTIRELY out of my comfort zone, both the initiating conversation with a group of strangers, and expressing interest in a group activity!  BUT, I do love kickball so it seemed worth the risk.  Fun fact, I completely dominated kickball in fifth grade so my confidence is sky high, which I’m sure helped with the courage mustering.  

The people were very nice and didn’t shun or ignore me!  Success!  They informed me that while the current fall season had already started and wasn’t available to participate in, that I should look into joining in the spring.  One guy even said that they “highly encourage” people to sign up and participate - exactly the words I need to hear in order to feel welcomed to play!  

Hopefully I can make the spring league can work with our schedule so Kevin can be home to watch the girls, but given that residency has no set schedule or hours I expect it’ll be hard to nail down. BUT, I’m going to try!  I set a reminder to look into this in February since the spring schedule isn’t out yet.  

On an entirely different subject, @i-feel-like-a-joan, @redradley, and @operationkay10 all tagged me for the 3 random facts tag.  Thank you so much for the tag!  (I’ll leave the above kickball amazingness fact as a bonus :))

I was born with, and still have, three nipples.  One just isn’t developed and looks like a mole. 

I broke my tailbone on my first (and only) snowboarding trip while in high school.  It still hurts to this day if I sit for too long on a hard surface.

One of my all-time favorite Halloween costumes is when I went as Pippi Longstocking when I was 9.  

*Can we please take a moment to appreciate how similar Erp’s expression is to mine in the second photo!?  And also, Aug’s limp-necked, cross-eyed adorableness with Kevin.  Yup, officially obsessed with these two.  

[nothing-more-than-hot-leaf-juice]

Zutara. My otp since I first watched as a 10 year old in 2005. Hopefully you'll be kind to them 😉 I'm convinced they'll be cannon in the live action 😅

Alright... *starts digging grave*, I think Katara and Zuko have a wonderful platonic relationship and for them to have a romantic relationship would (1) undermine Zuko’s redemption arc and (2) undermine the found family aspect of their friendship. I don’t have an issue with anyone who ships Zutara and I do not engage in shipping drama, but I think their platonic relationship is too damn important to favor a romantic relationship I don't really think has chemistry. 

Personally, I have never gotten romantic vibes from them like... at all? I think the progression of their friendship was important in terms of the show’s themes of forgiving those who deserve it and finding support in people you least expect, but I just don’t get chemistry from them. I’ve always been a Kataang fan but how I feel about Zutara has nothing to do with that. Avatar is one of those shows where I would have been totally fine with it ending with no romantic pairings because the found family aspect of it is so much more powerful. 

If anyone has spent 5 seconds on my blog, you know that Zuko is my favorite character and I think he deserves nothing but love and support after all the shit he went through. But a big aspect of why I care about him as a character is that he put the work in to make amends. He didn’t just show up one day saying “I’ve seen the error of my ways, sorry for all the stuff I did, I’m good now” and that was that. He had to work for forgiveness and he did it because he realized the fire nation was wrong, his father was wrong, and he was wrong. His decision to switch sides had nothing to do with any connection with the gaang because he didn’t really know them. His decision to switch sides stemmed from 3 very important things: 

(1) He felt guilty not for betraying Aang and Katara in Ba Sing Se, but Iroh. He realized his uncle was the person who had given him unconditional love while Azula and Ozai’s “love” for him was entirely dependent on his ability to provide them results. From this guilt, he was able to realize that his uncle had made the right decision in siding with the Avatar and more importantly, that Ozai was wrong and that all the abuse he endured under him was undeserved. 

(2) His experiences in the Earth Kingdom as a refugee. This post explains it really well, but Zuko’s realization that everything he’s believed about the Fire Nation has been wrong is rooted in his moment of empathy with Song and her matching burn scar, his empathy with Lee who lost his brother like Zuko lost Lu Ten, his empathy with Jet who lost his way going to extremes for a cause, and, yes, his empathy with Katara who’s mother was taken from her by the Fire Nation like his was. The reason he switches sides is because after all of those experiences, he can no longer be callous or unfeeling towards the Earth Kingdom like his father or sister. The people of the Earth Kingdom either empathized with him for the pain he went through and appreciated him for his desire to help the helpless (Song, Lee, Jet) or feared and hated him for being part of a country that caused their suffering (Lee, Lee’s mom, Jet, Katara). Throughout season 2, Zuko realized the extent of what the war meant for the other side. 

(3) The realization of the extents his father would go to and the truth about Ozai’s amorality. This point is kind of just the culmination of everything in the last two points, but all that set up comes to fruition when Zuko attends the war meeting where Ozai decides to use Sozin’s Comet to commit genocide. By this point he’s racked with guilt over what he did to Iroh, he’s empathized with people who have suffered and is coming to terms with the fact that it’s not only the people of the earth kingdom that have unnecessarily suffered because of Ozai, but him as well. In that meeting, he expresses adoration for the Earth Kingdom being proud and strong and Ozai’s response is to burn it to the ground. It’s the same treatment he gave Zuko at the Agni Kai when he stuck to his morals and refused to fight and was met with abject cruelty. At that meeting, Zuko realizes that his father is wrong and that he was always wrong. He realizes that millions of people will suffer at the hands of this man who is so incredibly wrong and lacking in empathy. 

SO, keeping all that in mind. His redemption arc doesn’t stop when he switches sides, it keeps going as he makes individual amends with Aang, Sokka, and Katara. It keeps going as he learns from the dragons, as he chooses what he believes in over his girlfriend, as he risks his life to protect the gaang from Azula, and as he tries to help Aang, Sokka, and Katara find emotional closure in different aspects. He helps Aang overcome his fear of firebending. He helps Sokka regain his honor. And he helps Katara address her grief regarding her mother’s death. These four episodes are some of the best in the series because it’s not just Zuko working to make amends because he wants them to trust him, but it’s him empathizing with their trauma, their guilt, and their fear of failure because he’s been there. 

Alright, that’s a whole essay regarding why Zuko’s redemption arc works, now what does this have to do with Zutara? Here’s the deal: if any aspect of Zuko’s decisions for his redemption were influenced by romantic attraction to Katara, it would undermine the meaning of his choices for him. He made the choices to be better because he empathized with a nation of people who needlessly suffered. He made the choices to be better because he learned to cut himself off from the need to please his abusive father and accept the unconditional love of his uncle. His choice to help Katara find her mother’s murderer stemmed from empathy and his desire to be better than the people who hurt him and hurt others. The reason Katara’s resentment towards him hurt him so much was because he was trying so hard to be better than the people that were feared and hated. Katara treated him like Lee’s mom and Jet did when they realized he was a firebender (that being said, Katara was justified since Zuko’s decision to side with Azula resulted in the fall of Ba Sing Se and nearly resulted in Aang’s death), and he didn’t want to be that person. He didn’t want to be hated or feared anymore and he was willing to do anything to move past being viewed like that. So Katara’s decision to finally forgive him? It’s the point where she realizes he’s able to empathize with her over his mother’s death where her mother’s killer could not. She realized that he was different and had changed because he put the work in. And that’s huge for his redemption, not for any kind of forming relationship because that’s not the point. 

Now, concerning the whole found-family aspect I love so much? Zutara as a romantic pairing would undermine the beauty of Zuko’s ability to find a loving, supportive group of people that he was missing his entire life. Katara does not work as a romantic partner for Zuko because she works as his replacement sister. The fact is that Zuko’s actual family experience was founded on fear and not love, but the idea of “usefulness”. Zuko and Azula were only valued by Ozai so much as they were useful to him, which is why he favored (not loved) Azula, she was useful to him and Zuko wasn’t until he “slayed the Avatar”. Iroh (and Ursa for a time) was the only person who showed him unconditional love and support, but that wasn’t enough to snap him out of the need to please Ozai. Zuko rooted his entire self worth in what his family thought of him and engaged in very self-destructive behavior throughout season 1 to prove himself because he “didn’t want [his] father to think [he was] worthless”. Even throughout season 3, he still thinks that his uncle’s love for him is conditional (”my uncle hates me I I know it”) until he’s proven otherwise because that’s what he’s been taught. So him joining the gaang, that’s the first time in his life he’s really met with the concept of people liking him for himself, not for his ability to be useful (his family, Jet) or because they think he’s someone he’s not (Song, Lee, Jin). He’s met with friendship: people making fun of him in a playful way instead of tearing down his insecurities and vulnerabilities (”mind if I watch you too jerks do your jerkbending?” “so all we need to do is make Zuko angry, that should be easy enough”, “look, it’s baby Zuko!”, “actually I think [the play portrayal] is pretty spot-on”), people trying to help him fix his problems (”you need to go back to the original source”) instead of making him feel weak for not being able to solve those problems in the first place, and showing him express appreciation and encouragement (”you’re pretty smart”, “to Zuko, who knew after all the times he tried to snuff us out, today he’d be our hero”, “I’m going with Zuko!”). And that’s so. Damn. Important for his ability to heal after how he was treated for his entire life. He’s introduced to the idea that people want him to be around and they want to include him in their circle for being him. Up until the finale, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to reconcile with Iroh or if Iroh will accept his forgiveness, but these people have given him a home in their group and he’s not afraid or insecure around a group of people for the first time in his life. 

And that’s why Katara has to be the one to defeat Azula: because Azula couldn’t be the sister Zuko had and Katara could be. It’s a tragedy that Zuko and Azula were driven apart by Ozai pitting them against each other, the corruption of firebending throughout the ages so it’s regarded for its power rather than its energy, and Azula’s own insecurities and fears of losing power because, like Zuko once did, she only considers herself to be worth anything so long as she’s better than him. The abuse he endured had an effect on her to because so long as she saw that Ozai’s “love” for Zuko was conditional, that meant that his “love” for her was conditional as well (”you can’t treat me like Zuko!”). Zuko and Azula could never support each other and they could never trust each other in the way that Sokka and Katara could. They wouldn’t sacrifice anything for each other because they were conditioned to survive, to leave behind the lesser sibling in order to get ahead. But at the Agni Kai, Zuko jumps in front of the lighting for Katara because unlike Azula, she has supported him since she forgave him and is there to back him up. She thinks he can be Firelord and she thought his uncle could forgive him in a way that Azula just never could. And that’s why Katara has to be the one to defeat Azula. Not because of any romantic attraction for Zuko, but because he’s protected Aang and Sokka and her and Toph and their little found family. It’s because he’s one of them. So in that moment where Azula is defeated, screaming and sobbing because she’s lost and that means that she’s the weaker sibling, she’s gone and it’s tragic. Zuko looks upon her and he wishes it didn’t have to be like this, but it is and it’s tragic. It didn’t have to be how it was but it did and it was awful and Azula is left broken, hating her brother with murderous fury. But he’s not alone.

He has a new sister who will protect him and fight for him when he’s lost his own. 

(addition: I want to make it clear that this does not mean I think Azula is irredeemable. Her actions and outlook are 100% a product of Ozai’s abuse, as I explained. I do not think that’s she’s beyond redemption, but by the finale she was still a villain and her goal was still to kill her brother so she could be Firelord. That’s not to say that she couldn’t have eventually healed and been able to reconcile with him, but by the final Agni Kai that’s not where their relationship was. The fact that she and Zuko had a toxic relationship was not her fault, but they still had a toxic relationship built on distrust and competition where Zuko and Katara’s friendship was built on support and protection. I am entirely sympathetic towards Azula, but just because she was redeemable doesn’t mean she was redeemed and just because there was potential for her and Zuko to eventually have a better relationship doesn’t mean that they did by the end of the series.)