#option 4. read fic and listen to music

[lapdogchase]

i have the whole night ahead of me. better spend all of it thinking about all the stuff i could do and not doing any of it

[2ghoul4u]

omg i actually managed to find this artist i've been looking for on & off for months now

[hellfirenacht]

Wing Man Part 4

Fic Summary: Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

Chapter Summary: Well, the arcade was a bust, but maybe going to a local dive bar and listening to music will yield better results.

4k words

a/n: This chapter is shorter than usual because my brain fried when writing it at work lol But we finally get to talk to Eddie without Steve cockblocking (too much)

Proof read? You have no proof I can read.

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It wasn’t until Monday after school that Dustin was able to make his way back to Family Video. After the night at the arcade, he’d been caught up with sneaking chats with Suzie and spending time with his mother. Not to mention the dentist appointment that caused him to miss a good chunk of Monday morning. If anything, dating and matchmaking be damned, Dustin had earned the treat of renting a movie and shoving candy into his newly cleaned teeth. 

The freshman walked in, said hi to you and walked shamelessly into the back while you called after him half-heartedly that he wasn’t supposed to go back there before turning back to your conversation with Robin. 

“Jesus, Henderson you can’t just barge into the back of any job I get!” Steve said as he sat in the break room. “I’m going to have to say no to you at some point.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ve talked about this.” Dustin said, sitting next to him in the small room, grabbing some of Steve’s chips. “Anyway, has she said anything about Saturday night?”

Steve watched in annoyance as his friend helped himself to his lunch. “No, she hasn’t said anything about what happened. When I clocked in she said she didn’t want to talk about it.” 

“Probably because we might have... totally ditched her.” Dustin admitted. “On accident! It wasn’t my idea!” He added quickly as Steve gaped at him. 

“What?!” Steve was surprised. “Wait, what happened?”

“Well when the two of you left, Eddie decided that we were done and we all went to get pizza instead.” Dustin said. “I saw her when we were leaving.”

“Shit. So he saw her leave with me, which probably didn’t help.” Steve groaned. “Did Eddie say anything about her?”

“Yeah he... said he wasn’t interested.” 

“Really? Shit. I knew he was a freak, but I didn’t think he had bad taste.”

“Why aren’t you dating her?” Dustin asked. “You won’t date Robin and now you won’t date her? Are you allergic to dating cool girls or something?”

“Robin and I are just friends.” Steve said firmly. “And who said I didn’t try to date her? I tried to ask her out once but she turned me down. She said I was ‘too normal’.”

There were tears streaming down Dustin’s face two minutes later from how hard he was laughing at that. Steve Harrington could get any girl in town, and got shot down by the wierdo. 

“Yeah, yeah, get it out of your system, Henderson.” Steve groaned. 

“She’s too good for you, Steve.” Dustin finally managed to say, calming himself down. 

“So Eddie was a bust so I guess I’m back to square one.” Steve sighed. “I guess I could take her out to a bar and help her get numbers. If she can keep herself from saying something too weird for at least ten minutes it’d be easy.”

But it didn’t feel right. You already knew what you wanted, and any bar in town would just be filled with the same normal, boring people that you’d never had an interest in. 

“You know... Eddie’s band plays at the Hideout.” Dustin said suddenly. 

“Yeah, I thought we just established that wasn’t an option.” Steve frowned. 

“Okay but hear me out, she liked Eddie, right?” 

“Yeah, so?” 

“So? So if she liked Eddie then she’d probably like someone who also likes Eddie. He told me that people come to watch his band play specifically.” Dustin was grinning wide. 

“Henderson, you might be onto something.” Steve was starting to follow his friend’s logic. “If his fans like him, then she’d probably like his fans.”

“Precisely, Steve!” 

The two of them grinned at each other as if they’d just cracked the code to helping you out. However, Steve was only aware of half the plan. That night at the arcade hadn’t been sitting right with Dustin since Eddie tore out of there like a bat out of hell with the rest of the club in tow. He’d seen the way Eddie had stolen glances at you when he thought no one was looking, and only Eddie could miss the way you had been staring at him as the two of you talked. 

Dustin wasn’t sure what the hell Eddie’s problem was saying he wasn’t interested, but if Steve was giving him a chance to be nosy and meddle he was going to take it. You had been nice to Dustin this summer, and after starting the new hell that was high school he wanted to help you out. Eddie had been the only person who had been nice to him and Mike in school, and you had been nice out of it. 

If this didn’t work he’d leave Steve to his own problem, but Dustin had this one last trick up his sleeve. 

“So Eddie’s never talked about having an interest in anyone before?” Steve asked as he tossed his trash and handed over the remaining chips to Dustin. 

“Not really. Jeff mentioned that he used to have a thing for some girl named Ronnie, and they all act really cagey about someone else named Paige.” Dustin said with a shrug. 

“I have no idea who those people are.” 

“I don’t either, they don’t talk about it much.” 

“Alright, well I guess we’re gonna go to the Hideout.” Steve decided. “Wait, isn’t his band him and a bunch of high schoolers? How are they even allowed to play in a bar?”

“It’s a bar, not a club, Steve. They can be there, they just can’t drink. Legally.” Dustin decided not to share that Eddie had one or two fake IDs that the barkeeps were happy to overlook for Eddie at least. 

“What do you know about clubs?” Steve was surprised. “The only club you should know about is your weird fantasy club.”

“I watch MTV, I know how some things work!” 

The banter between the two continued until you showed up in the break room. 

“Steve, your break ended fifteen minutes ago. If you get your butt to the front I’ll fudge the time sheet and say you just forgot to clock back in.” you said. “And Dustin, honey, I love you. You aren’t supposed to be back here. Actually, I don’t care because you’re a good kid. Just ask before you barge in, okay? If Keith’s here I’ll actually have to enforce that.” 

“Yes, Ma’am!” Dustin gave you a salute as the two of them made their way back to the front. When Steve took his place behind the counter, Dustin took a piece of paper out of his bag and handed it over. 

“What’s this?” Steve took the paper, looking at the list of movie titles. 

“My payment. I want these movies for my services. We had an agreement.” 

“Jesus, Henderson you’re gonna give yourself nightmares with these.” 

“Nothing’s been scarier than what we’ve been through.”

“Fair enough.” 

You looked to be as thrilled to be at the Hideout on a Tuesday night as you would be at the DMV. You didn’t have anything against the place, but you didn’t have anything for it either. You’d been to bars a few times with friends with varying degrees of enjoyment. Hell, this wasn’t even the first time you’d been to this bar. Hawkin’s didn’t exactly have the biggest variety of places to drink in town, and this place was the town’s “old reliable”. Cheap enough for the blue collar workers to enjoy a cold beer after work, but with enough variety to have the young adults of the town fill up the booths on the weekends. 

It was not the weekend though, it was a Tuesday night. A weird night for Steve to drag you out to a bar to help you get a date. As you swung your body on the barstool waiting on your drink you glanced around. There was a small, cramped stage set up in the back and a few older men were hanging around. 

“So... Steve not to be terribly picky and not to sound ungrateful, but I’m not so sure about this.” You said, scanning the bar for anyone who didn’t look old enough to be your dad or grandpa. 

“There’s a band that’s supposed to play tonight.” Steve said, pointing over to the stage. “I heard they’re about our age so I thought it’d be worth a shot.”

“A band?” You considered it. “What type of music are they supposed to play?”

“I think it’s a metal band.”

You snorted into your soda. “A metal band? In Hawkins? Oh, this I have to see.” You hopped off the stool to make your way over to the cork board that was covered in advertisements for the town. You scanned it until you found a flier that had been covered partially by an advertisement for lawn care. 

CORRODED COFFIN- TUESDAY NIGHTS 

That must have been it. It didn’t give you any information about the band, other than the name and when they played. The logo was hastily drawn on in black and red markers as if putting this up was a last minute idea. You pulled the paper off the board and repositioned it so that it was front and center instead. There, that was your good deed for the day; giving a small band an additional 8.5 by 11 inches of visibility. 

“As usual, I have learned nothing.” You declared, taking your seat again. “I have a name and that’s it.”

“What’s the band called?” Steve asked. 

“Corroded Coffin.” you replied. “Shouldn’t you know? This was your idea!”

“I was just told there was a metal band that played, I wasn’t given a name.” Steve had been given the name and immediately forgot in the near endless ramblings that Dustin had gone on about. 

“You’re gonna think I’m crazy-”

“I already do.” 

You laughed and continued. “You’re gonna think I’m crazy but the name sounds familiar.” Your legs were swinging off the stool, leaning back against the bar with your elbows. “How can you forget a name like that?” 

Easily. Thought Steve. 

A few more people were starting to show up now, though it was still pretty dead and slow. Even as people shuffled in and out of the small bar, there was no sign of anyone who you’d deem “age appropriate” for you. 

“So you tried to set me up with a high schooler and now it looks like you’re trying to hook me up with someone twice my age.” You joked. 

“Yeah, I was hoping there’d be more people here to choose from.” Steve looked around the room. Dustin had said that this band was supposed to have a crowd but he wasn’t seeing evidence of that anywhere. 

“Ah well, even if tonight is another bust we can still have fun.” you gave him a playful punch. “If the band is bad we can bond over that, and if they’re good you probably won’t appreciate it and I’ll subject you to my every thought about it.”

“You do that anyway.” Steve breathed out a small laugh.

“I’ll be worse, cross my heart.” 

It wasn’t long until the doors to the Hideout opened again, with two highschoolers struggling to fit a drum set through the doors. You snickered as they twisted the parts trying to adjust the bulky equipment. That’s right, the circular drum goes through the square hole. 

“Steve, high schoolers.” you whispered. “Again?!” 

But then you realized that the two teenagers looked familiar. Familiar in a fresh way. Familiar in a ‘Hey, didn’t I just see you the other day?’ way. Your stomach twisted as they finally managed to get through the door and make their way to the stage for set up. 

“Hey, Steve, these kids look- shit.” 

Your heart leapt in a way you didn’t expect when the man you’d poorly attempted to get to know just a few days ago walked through the door with a guitar case strapped to his back. He was laughing with another member of the band as they carried in an amp. Eddie didn’t even look your way as they made their way to set up on stage. 

He played guitar. Of course he played guitar in a metal band. Jesus Christ, you were actually going to murder Steve and Dustin if this whole situation wasn’t going to kill you first. Eddie dropped his leather jacket on the side of the stage, leaving him in a band shirt that you couldn’t make out the name of in the dim lights. He had really nice arms (how had you missed the tattoos last week??), and the way he was smiling so genuinely and joking around with his friends made you feel fuzzy on the inside. He hadn’t looked like that when you two were talking-

“You’re drooling again.” Steve said. 

You shook your head and quickly turned around, putting your back to the stage. 

“Steve... what the fuck.” You hissed, glaring at him. “I know I didn’t exactly share what happened on Saturday, but I thought it was pretty clear that it didn’t go well.” 

“Listen, I had no- I” Steve couldn’t lie to you. “Henderson said he’d be playing tonight, but I swear I’m not trying to hook you two up again. I really thought that when he said there’d be a crowd there’d be more freaks here!” 

You smacked your head on the bar a few times with a groan. “It was so awkward. I told him I’d be right back but then when I went back in everyone was gone. He wasn’t interested in me.” 

“His loss.” Steve said. “Listen, we’ll stick around for a few songs and if no one else shows up then we can leave, deal?” 

“Deal.”

You tried to ignore the pounding in your heart as you pointedly refused to turn around. You didn’t even know why you cared so much that Eddie was there again. You had only talked for a half hour before he left, but the man had stuck in your mind since that night. 

You had been attracted to guys before, but Eddie was on some other level. 

“So, are you stalking me now, Harrington?”

FUCK. 

“Nah man, just in the mood to do something different tonight.” Steve said, trying his hardest to play nice. He had to remember that this was for you, even though he was starting to like Eddie less after his disinterest in you. 

“I didn’t take you as a man with music taste.” Eddie said. You hated that this man seemed to always sneak up on you. You finished off your drink and turned around to join the conversation before Steve made things worse. 

Fuck it. It’s not like this could be any more awkward than how things were left off. You might as well have some fun. 

“Actually this was my idea.” You said, lying through your teeth with a grin. “Steve here knows nothing about good music, so I thought I’d show him a little culture.”

Steve was now looking at you with his jaw dropped, wondering where the hell that came from. He looked offended, and Eddie? Eddie’s eyebrows shot up as recognition crossed his features as he looked at you. 

“So you like metal?” Eddie said, his gaze now locked on yours. You felt an odd pounding in your heart as you looked up into those amazingly round brown eyes. “What’s your favorite band?”

It wasn’t a challenge. There was nothing in his tone to indicate that he was about to turn into a total dick about music, and that both put you at ease and made your attraction to him far worse. 

“Well, Black Sabbath is always good.” you thought. “But I’m gonna have to go with WASP. I’d rate them a 69 out of 10 for being so damn horny in their songs.” 

Eddie’s eyes lit up and he smiled wide, the same kind of smile he’d just given his band mates a few minutes ago. You licked your lips and felt Steve kick your foot, probably signaling you to stop drooling. 

“So someone in this town does have good taste!“ Eddie was moving around more now, taking a few paces back and then back towards you clapping his hands. 

“I don’t like to limit myself.” You said. “I’m always looking for new sounds and music. It’s like I feel like I’m suffocating if it gets too quiet.”

You winced internally at the statement, knowing that it was probably off putting but to your surprise Eddie only got more excited. 

“Exactly!” He practically yelled.

How was it so easy to talk to him, and so hard at the same time? Why was it that every conversation so far had ended so awkwardly when moments like this felt easy? 

“So how long have you been playing?” you asked, looking over at the stage where he’d set his case down. 

“The band’s been playing together since we were in middle school, I started playing guitar around fifth grade. We’ve had a rotating cast of members, so I started it, and Jeff’s been there the longest after me.” he pointed to a member fiddling with his bass. “Zack and Gareth joined in high school.” 

“And was Chris Morrison ever part of this band?” you teased. 

“Fuck no!.” Eddie laughed. “My uncle would say that Chris couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket with a lid on. He tried to play manager. Tried. After seeing how he ran his campaigns, I wasn’t interested.”

“Didn’t he also run for student council once?” 

“You remember those posters?!” there was a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Oh, he never ran. The rest of us were so done with how he was running Hellfire we put those up detailing why he was shit at leadership.”

“You’re kidding!” you gaped. “Jesus, you guys are weird.”

Eddie bent down in a joking bow. “I got a week’s detention for that stunt. I wasn’t the one who made most of them, but Higgin’s always had it out for me. Still does.” He mumbled that last part mostly to himself.

“Why do you two keep talking about Chris Morrison?” Steve asked, and you suddenly remembered that he was there too. Whoops.

“Common thread, apparently.” you shrugged. “It’s too easy to rag on the guy.”

“You had to be there.” Eddie said, as if you and Eddie were sharing connected memories that you were both part of rather than piecing together fragments of a puzzle where you were both corner pieces. The same picture, but never touching. 

At least, as far as you were aware. 

Steve was looking at you as if you were both insane. He was probably right. 

“Okay, okay Steve’s right. I don’t want to talk about Chris fucking Morrison anymore.” you said. “How long have you been playing here, at the Hideout?”

“Every Tuesday for about 2 years, give or take.” Eddie said. “We started monthly, but we get a crowd now so they asked us to play weekly.”

“A crowd.” You nodded, looking around the dead bar. “Damn, I must be pretty lucky to have the front man talking to me when you have all these people here to see you.” Behind the joke, the tone you used was sincere and playful all at once. You sat up a little straighter, leaning towards him on your barstool. 

That was a flirt. You just flirted. There was no taking that back. You were gonna have to commit now. 

There was something boyish about the smile he returned, calm and relaxed. “Oh yeah, you should feel special. As you can see we have a crowd of about-” he turned to the rest of the bar, counting the patrons. “-Right, about four drunks. I guess Tim’s out today.” 

“Well, make that four and a half drunks and also Steve is here.” you shook Steve’s shoulder playfully. 

“Half?” Steve looked at you, pushing your hand off. 

“I drove here, I can’t get wasted. But I can have one or two drinks and be fine.”

“Well, if you happen to bite off more than you can chew, I have room in my van for you.” Eddie said. “I could give you a ride.” 

Well, that wasn’t what you had expected. Your stomach was flipping like an acrobat at the suggestion. He was offering you a ride home if you wanted to drink? After he’d disappeared on you? Just what was this guy's deal? 

“If I’m biting my drinks that’s cause for concern. I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to bite a drink.” Smooth, so fucking smooth. You might as well call yourself Skippy because you were as smooth as chunky peanut butter.

But Eddie just laughed and shook his head. “Yeah, you’re right. But the offer’s on the table. Or the bar, since you want to be literal.”

“I’ll think about it.” you said. “I don’t normally go home with men I just met at bars but if your band is any good I’ll consider it.”

His grin widened at that “Then I’ll be sure to tell the guys to pick up the slack tonight.” 

That was a flirt, right? Eddie just flirted back with you. That had to be right? You almost wanted him to go away so that you could confirm with Steve that your suspicions about that line were correct. 

“Eddie! Get over here and help with the amp, it’s doing the thing again!” One of the teens from the stage called out. 

Eddie sighed and looked over at his band that was messing with the amp they had brought in. “Again? Alright, I have some tape in my toolbox.” he called back to them before turning to you. HIs eyes flicked over to Steve for just a split second before meeting your eyes again. “Talk to you after the set?” 

“Yeah, I’d like that.” you said, “After all you might be my ride home.” 

And with that, Eddie turned and left.

“What was that?” Steve said immediately looking at you. “Where did that come from? Your idea? Going home with him?!”

“What?” you asked, taken aback. “You told me I should actually flirt, so I flirted!” 

“Where was all that on Saturday?! Hell, where was that for the past two months we’ve had this deal going?” Your friend was looking at you like he hardly recognized you. 

“Great question Steve, and it deserves a great answer.” you nodded. “I have no fucking clue. Maybe I’m exclusively attracted to guys that I don’t think I have a chance with?”

“He offered to drive you home.” His eyes darted over to the stage where Eddie had reappeared with a toolbox, messing with the amp. “I don’t know how you missed it but he was flirting with you.”

“Oh, good, I thought I was losing it.” you laughed. “Glad we got that established. Cool. Loving that. Now, on one hand he’s offering me a ride home. On the other hand, to get this supposed ride home I will have to intoxicate myself. Which sounds fun in theory but he’s also a guy I barely know.”

It should have been sketchy, it really really should have been. The only man you would trust to get your drunk ass home without worry right now would be Steve. 

“Hey, can I get another one of these, please?” you asked the bartender, holding up your glass. 

Once your refill came, you grabbed the drink and stood up. The band was finishing up the sound check and it looked like they were about to start. 

“Come on, I want to sit closer. I’m feeling reckless tonight.” You grabbed Steve’s arm and dragged him to a table closer to the stage. Eddie made his way to the mic and smiled at you and your raised your glass to him with a smile. 

“Thanks for coming out tonight, we’re Corroded Coffin and we’re here to make you feel like you’re fighting demons in hell!”

It was in that horrible, terrifying moment when the lights dimmed and the sound of an electric guitar ripped through the air,  that you realized something; you were going to end the night with the biggest, stupidest, useless crush on Eddie Munson and there was nothing you could do about it. 

Part 5

Dividers by @strangergraphics

I would also like to note that this is a work of fiction. You're allowed to make questionable decisions when playing with fake scenarios. Just roll with it.

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[sketchiefoxie]

💀Deja Vu Masterpost💀

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"Supposedly, only a few days ago, someone died in the abandoned, and eligibly haunted sewers of NYC. Naturally, April decides to check it out. On a mission to explore the abandoned section of the NYC's sewers, April O' Neil and finds herself trapped after an accident, stuck with no way out. Something, or rather, multiple someone's seem to be living in these sewers, lurking behind the corners, watching from the shadows. Something terribly wrong is going on here; and the worst part? April feels like this isn't her first time living through this..."

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Rottmnt Horror Au ~ Deja Vu Donnie ~ Welcome to my kitchen ~ Snack ~ This is fine

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#Deja Vu fanart

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Deja Vu is a Rottmnt horror "choose the outcome" story, in which at the end of each chapter, all you readers get to vote on the options I supply, changing the outcome of the story!! Please note, this story is interactive, so there will be music to listen to, plus the occasional story important video to watch during the actual chapter.

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💕Mentions and Thanks!!💕

Thank you to @inkypawprint for listening to me when I chatter about my spooky boys!! You're my favorite (and only lol) sister!! Love you!!

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[thisapplepielife]

Thank you thank you thank you for writing the masterpiece that is 'Tuesday's Gone with the Wind' 💕 I think I've reread it 4 times since it was posted, it has carved a space in my chest and taken root. It has sincerely changed the way I listen to live music, what I listen to and how I think about these characters! The love, the story, the found family is truly something I think about all the time.

A thank you for letting me live in the universe a little longer with 'Wildflowers and All the Rest' it's such a great companion piece, it's always bittersweet finishing it cuz I want more but I know it's time.

I love all your writing (TTMAR also holds a special place in my heart) but this story is a masterpiece!

Thank you so, so much!! Truly, sincerely. To know that you've enjoyed it enough to re-read (4 times!!) is just beyond amazing. Hearing that it has connected with a reader is always the best feeling in the world. It's my favorite thing I've written. It might not have been as read as Take the Money and Run, but it changed me, getting to spend that time writing and getting to know those versions of the characters.

And it changed the way I listen to live music, too! The drums in any given song now stick out like a sore thumb for me, all because of this version of Gareth. It's still so weird that I had no strong feelings at all for Gareth when I started Tuesday's. Now he lives in my head rent-free and doesn't seem to have any intention of leaving soon, haha.

Wildflowers was my opportunity for him to flourish a little further, take the forefront. The fact that you wanted to follow him, and the rest of these characters, for a little longer means so much to me. I knew it wasn't for every reader. Hell, Tuesday's wasn't for every reader. So, Wildflowers was always going to be a niche of a niche from the jump, and that was a-okay with me. Because Gareth wanted his side of the story to be told, and I wanted to hear it. In some ways, I feel that I was just along for the ride.

Now, approaching two years since I wrote the first words for this universe, I've spent so much time with these versions of the characters in my head, that knowing that they managed to reach even a handful of readers has been beyond anything I could have ever asked for when I put it out into the world.

I wrote every word of that universe for myself. I don't think I had the option not to, really. It was just...there. I was the lucky one that got to tell their story. That might sound crazy, lol, but it feels true. Yes, I researched. A lot. But the story? The characters? Maybe it's rose-colored glasses, with time and distance. But they feel like they came easy. And getting to share the finished fic with those of you that wanted to read it has been a delight. Thank you, thank you.

Also, I really appreciate you letting me know that you still think about this story and these characters. I think about them, too. ❤️

(I just threw on the Spotify playlist for Tuesday's, just to hang out with them for a little bit longer today. Thanks for allowing me think about them again today. ❤️)

[thoughts-of-bear-undercovers]

Get to know your mutuals

Thanks so much for tagging me @joelsprettyprincess

what's the origin of your blog title?: @thoughts-of-bear is my Halsin fan blog so Halsin = bear guy = me thinking of him all day = thoughts of bear

OTP(s) + shipname: I don't ship much, but I love Ineffable Husbands, Hannigram and Trephacard. I probably forgot some that I like tho

favorite color: Definetly green! I love all kinds of green. But lately orange and other warm colours have grown on me too <3

favorite game: probably still Baldur's Gate 3, maybe Skyrim. I've been spending time with RDR2 too and I really love that too. Although I too have the most hours in the Sims 4 XD

song stuck in your head: right now, none I think.

weirdest habit/trait?: probably being on this platform XD

hobbies: ballet, sewing, videogames, reading, all things art, swimming, listening to music...

if you work, what's your profession? I just got the job as a swimming teacher for little kids <3 but mainly i'm at school (apprenticeship to become a tailor)

if you could have any job you wish what would it be? costume designer, which is my plan I just hope i get to work on some bigger projects later on. my dream would be hollywood or something along those lines

something you're good at: I've been doing ballet for almost 17 years now so that I guess... and sewing

something you're bad at: talking about my feelings ^^ uhh keeping my plants alive... sports that involve catching and/ or throwing things... driving...

something you love: my cat <3 and watching the sunset ... stars ... flowers and trees and fresh air... my bed...

something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: Tolkien's work probably. He is my favourite author and the greatest fandom for me. I've read almost all the books (several times) and even started learning Sindarin at one point XD

something you hate: heartless people. it's just so tiring to see all the hate in the world and the people who hurt so many others simply for their own benefit.

something you collect: do books count?

something you forget: Names. I'm terrible at names (and associating faces with them). I've gotten better at appointments tho

what's your love language?: apart from the fact that I don't really subscribe to the "love language" concept, I've also never been in a proper, longer relationship

favorite movie/show: movie: Lotr obviously, but also those; shows: used to be Good Omens before the whole NG thing :/ I still love my idiots tho... also Stranger Things, Our Flag Means Death, Sherlock, Merlin, TLOU and more

favorite food: oof that is a good question. i love all kinds of food that isn't spicy. but maybe indian dal? or my dad's spaghetti...

favorite animal: goats! I love goats! i want a goat! also snakes and cats

what were you like as a child? umm idk i think i was generally well-behaved, creative and a friendly kid. I definetly know that I've always loved sleeping and was a book-worm

favorite subject at school? chemistry and art!

least favorite subject? sports...and french

what's your best character trait? i've been told i am very kind and i love to help people. and one (1) person finds me funny i'm very proud of that

what's your worst character trait? i cannot stand up for myself and I feel like sometimes i'm a little arrogant (unintentionally)

if you could change any detail of your day right now what would it be? cough should go away :/

if you could travel in time who would you like to meet? that is my favourite superpower!!!! i think Tolkien first, maybe try going to a Queen concert then or idk maybe tell Mary Shelley that i loved Frankenstein...or Monet and his paintings... there's too many options

recommend one of your favorite fanfics (spread the love!): You dare make me decide??? Here's my list that i made some time ago... i gotta add Homecoming by @saintchroma there!! And my favourite RDR2 fic is Baptized by Fire by @hihomeghere. Yeah I probably forgot lots of stuff, but don't be mad pls >.<

I have annoyed too many people via tag lately so I will just leave this open for everyone who wants to participate ^^ have fun people

I love you my moots <3

[justagalwhowrites]

okay so i am catching up on yearling (on ao3 atm) and similarly to how i made a lavender playlist all that time ago i HAVE to do one for yearling like its not even an option. considering all i listen to anymore is folk, blues, and country i feel like you have curated a vibe so specific to my aesthetic that i am legally obligated to become the unofficial and self-appointed sound engineer for the yearling movie that plays in my head when im reading

on a similar note, i hc that bambi has thrown hands to keep your hands to yourself by the georgia satellites at least once. idk when, why, or how i just know in my soul it has happened

AHHH BESTIE!

I hope you're loving the story! And AHHHHHH! I love the music in this fic so so much, I've thought so much about 1) what Bambi listens to 2) what Bambi plays 3) what her version of songs sound like and 4) what songs and bands came about after the outbreak that she'd LOVE. I would LOVE to see your playlist if you make one!!! Have you checked out the Yearling playlist? There are some songs that I see as going with specific moments and other things are just vibes (like Black Betty is when Bambi is on Shimmer and just taking off through Jackson), others are specifically mentioned and others are just vibes.

Also yes, you are correct. Bambi throws hands at the drop of a hat tbh (I have an AU planned for them and she's SO scrappy even in that timeline, she gets into at least two fights in just the handful of chapters I have planned) and that song definitely is playing at least in her head if not as it happens.

HOPE YOU LOVE THE FIC BESTIE! Love you!!

[acaplaya-musings]

Screw it, have a not-fully-human Voiceplay AU (Part 1)

I'm obviously not the first person to do this, and I very much got inspired by other AUs and fics I've seen floating around (I haven't even read any of the fanfics, but just reading the tags/summaries were enough to get my brain buzzing with ideas). And let's be honest, it's almost natural to imagine at least some of Voiceplay's members as non-human when they're that good, and don't even get me started on some of the videos!

This is mostly just a collection of thoughts/ideas though - I don't plan on turning it into a proper fic or doing art of it or anything like that, but I thought I might as well type it up here anyway, so it's not just stuck bouncing around in my brain. Sticking it under a Read More link because this ended up being kinda long. (And note that this AU is less of a "what if they had powers" AU and more of a "what if a lot of real life stuff was explained by magic / occult forces and the like" AU, though I don't know a great deal about Voiceplay's early days so bear with me).

Geoff: Half-demon, sort of. Not exactly "demon" as in "representative of Hell/linked to Satan", more "demon" as in "innate connections to a part of the Earth far, far below the surface, deep in the mantle, if not deeper". "Half-demon" is about the best description in the English language for him, even when considering many popular works of fantasy and myth

(Yeah I considered a few other options for what Geoff could possibly be, including a half-dragon/dragonborn, but his voice is much too smooth and clear imo to be typically reminiscent of a dragon (other than his growls and vocal fry), and some other people have already referred to him as a demon god/demon lord/etc, so yeah might as well. I'm putting my own spin on it though).

Geoff is still at least partially human, and just human enough that for the first three and a half decades or so of his life, he was able to almost fully suppress the non-human part of himself. Half-demon!Geoff, not fully knowing the meaning or implications of what he was, feared that the ground may one day swallow him up whole; the depths of the earth staking its claim once and for all. He took up pole-vaulting in high school [true], and had aspirations of being a rock tenor [also true] - hitting high notes in songs and soaring over beams many feet in the air made it easier to ignore the faint occasional rumbles from far below the ground that nobody else ever seemed to hear.

(I'll get back to Geoff in a minute, but lets start talking about...)

Layne: Extra-terrestrial being, for sure, though not quite a stereotypical alien per se. In this AU, Layne started off as a vaguely-animal-shaped collection of cells (or the celestial/outer space equivalent anyway) that crash-landed on Earth via a small asteroid and took on the (main/primary) form of a human.

(And just for funsies, let's say that "Layne" was what TV Tropes would call a Line-Of-Sight Alias after seeing a street sign. He was originally "Lane", but someone once stuck a Y in the middle of it while writing it down and he chose to keep it that way).

Layne and Geoff became friends in middle school [true], both sensing there was a notable uniqueness about the other.

I'm a bit hazy on the origins of Voiceplay (or rather, 4:2:Five, as it was first named), it's been a while since I've watched/listened to some of the interviews Geoff has done where he talks a little about it, and I can't be bothered doing too much research/recollection for a random fun AU idea, so I'm playing a little fast and loose with details here.

Layne, now attending high school with Geoff [true I think?] was inspired to create an acapella group [I'm fairly sure it was at least partially his idea but don't @ me] not too long after first learning about them and hearing some examples of acapella performances. The idea that humans could create music without any typical instrumentation and be just as enjoyable (if not more?) as someone singing with a band was fascinating to him, and he was very keen to try it out for himself.

Geoff meanwhile was spending his time learning the oboe [true, iirc], and wasn't fully keen on the idea at first, especially when Layne asked him to be the bass singer for it, but the two were[/are] best friends, and it didn't take too long for Layne to convince him.

Layne started off as the baritone of the group [true], and a beatboxer wasn't added till a little later after the group's inception, after Layne was further inspired by the group Rockapella [also true, except idk who originally had the idea to add a beatboxer (that's why they were called 4:2:Five btw - they started out as basically a barbershop quartet, but then added a fifth member for vocal percussion)]

This is starting to get quite long, even for a Read More imo, so I'm making a separate post for part 2. And yes, Eli will get included as well!

[just-lndifference]

I'm convinced this year is just a dream or simulation or something because generally what the fuck is happening.

someone I looked up to for 5 years that I originally named myself after turned out to be an abuser and wrote the most chat gbt ass ""apology"" and only cares that shubble was brave enough to speak out. (SUPPORT VICTIMS)

taylor swift announced her 5th album in 5 years (not including re records) WHILE WINNING A GRAMMY. and then being the amazing woman she is became the first person in history to win aoty 4 times.

twenty one pilots not only announced a new album, but is open with the lore and released a single that is one of the best songs they've ever made. when clancy drops this whole fandom is cooked.

this is the first time I've genuinely been terrified because of an election. if trump wins I genuinely don't think I'll be safe in this country because of project 2025. I'm a bisexual nonbinary person, I will never have a chance to get gender affirming health care and will lose the right to get married. and that's just the stuff that will happen to me! I can't imagine how scared people that are in more affected groups then me feel if I'm this scared. I know he's a horrible option but if your seeing this and old enough to vote in america PLEASE vote for biden. independents just don't have a chance, yes he funds a genocide but trump will too, and hell do much worse things. as a minor I'm literally begging y'all to think of everyone who isn't old enough to vote yet.

erm this is very unserious compared to the last part of my rant but I like lana del rey now!! 😭 obviously not her as a person (free palestine) but her music. and this is a major unseen development I've aggressively trashed lana and her fans since midnights came out bc of snow on the beach (turns out that it's just a really shit song 🙏). idk shout out to the person who made me feel obligated to listen to born to die (album)

also my henry danger hyperfixation from when I was 10 just decided to resurface?? like yes I had it for like 4 years BUT WHY IS IT BACK HELLO??? idk but ray is like super hot now that I'm older and I really want to date his goofy ass 😭😭 I remember not liking him much for some reason but like.. he's just a silly little guy.. babygirl if you will.. just a little rat boy..

I accidentally convinced 2 people to read the forest fic (neither were clikkies and I just met one of them). I don't think anything more needs to be said I made 2 full grown adults cry over a band they've never listened too 😭🙏

on that note joshler is big on twitter again but it's widely accepted?? idk what happened there but a good chunk of the art on my tl is clancy x torchbearer and I honestly don't mind.

jason kelce retired. in my family it's a thing to hate the eagles but holy shit I cried so much. the edits literally fucking destroyed me. I had no idea how much of an amazing person he was until taylor started dating travis and I wish I had more time to be a fan of this wonderful man while he was still on the field. he's so goofy and always made me laugh, I genuinely love the guy now.

the chiefs once again won the superbowl, I was honestly terrified the whole time and cried a few times that was the most stressful game of my life. I'm so fr I tried to get a rep tv announcement date from the disney plus commercial, taylor immediately being shown when the game came back on with a chiefs jacket that magically appeared out of nowhere that had a number that wasn't a player I lost my shit 💀

I could go on for hours, and it's only March. genuinely so much shit has happened and I'm not ready for more.

[wtfuckevenknows]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you! get to know your mutuals and followers 💛

I've lost count of how many times I've done this already buuuuut, the list always changes so here are some things that make me happy now-ish :)

1. August

Birthday month my beloved ❤️ But not only is it my birthday, it's peak summer time (ha fucking ha), hockey is always back in August, I work a total of 9 days in August this year and I am traveling to my favorite country in two weeks 🇨🇦

(I also adore Taylor Swifts 🎶 august 🎶)

2. Good vegan food

Went out for lunch at a vegan bistro today, there's a lot of new vegan products that I'm excited to try (and did try the last couple of days) and I'm forever finding & making new recipes or veganizing old favorites and I love love love it.

AND YOU SENT ME MY FAV VEGAN MAYO AND I WILL LOVE YOU FOREVER ❤️😘

3. Fics, Fics, Fics!!!!

The firehouse is my happy place @paperstorm, the Hamptons fic was so amazing, I plan on reading it (again) start to finish tomorrow @strandnreyes and I've been reading sooooooo much rwrb fics lately (still no Tarlos for me, with exceptions obv) and I am once again sooooooo fucking behind on reading books it's not even funny.

4. Plants

I mean....if you follow me you know how OBSESSED I am with my garden and I have been neglecting my indoor plants (and it shows, oops) but I love every single one of my plants!

5. Interior design

When I moved back from Oz and looked at the housing market I decided I am never moving again 😂 and that I want to spruce up my apartment (still in my first (rental) apartment, moved in 5 weeks after moving back from the US because living with my parents again long term was NOT an option, so I didn't have a lot of money when I first moved in) and I've been slowly but steadily making lots of little and big improvements that I love.

Next on the agenda is painting the bedroom wall, been putting it off for 7 month now 🙈

Honorable Mention: Christmas

Writing a Christmas fic in July and listening to lots and lots and lots of Christmas music, waiting for Christmas candy in stores in the next couple of weeks (I need Lebkuchen asap) and went into my insta archive and looked at christmases past earlier 😂

This was fun, thanks Jen 😘😘😘

[phoenixfeathersinfall]

Best of tags and replies from this post:

“Find the appropriate mutual to ramble at and yap for 2-4 hours.”

“Make a playlist, but if it gets bad enough, I write.”

“Listen, I write about it because it’s my only viable avenue. Brain has never gone brrr from making moodboards or playlists. I love them when others do them, but they’re not my fan language.”

“I make a Google Slide to tell my friends about why they’re interesting.”

“Secret option: rant to friends about it.”

“Sit there and rotate them at high speed inside my head.”

“Think very hard about them, rotate them in my head, spin them around and see how it takes off like a helicopter.”

“I put them in games I’m playing.” 

“Draw!! If I have feelings about The Plot or The World I’ll write something instead, but for characters, they get art.”

“Write, draw, playlist in that order. The further you progress the deeper my feelings are.”

“There’s no ‘go insane’ option???”

“ ← Same prev, once when I finished reading a book I just walked around in circles in my driveway.” 

“It depends on the feelings I’m having but definitely not making gifs, I don’t have that kind of ability.”

“Mostly write, bit of drawing. The drawing is for a RETURN to an interest, the first dive into an interest begs for the written word.”

“Go f**ing crazy in the Discord about it.”

“Usually write, then playlist, then draw, but my latest obsession has included gifs for the first time.”

“Make a 3D character/model of them.”

“Write something, though I won’t necessarily be able to come up with more than just one scene.”

“Me: I love this guy, what if I wrote several posts of headcanons about his culture on the Tumblr dot com…” 

“First I close my eyes and Imagine Scenes, but that’s to lead into writing.” 

“Meta/analysis/shouting into the void posts is fastest for me, so usually that.”

“I send my friends gifs of people screaming, crying, rolling around on the floor.”

“Write about it if I have an idea, listen to music if I’m just in my feelings.”

“Is it still creative if the answer is ‘listen to music and go for a walk/pace around like a mad scientist while Thinking Thoughts?’ Just wondering.”

“I just…Dwell. And consume other people’s writing, drawing, etc.”

“Listen to music really hard and think about The Character.”

“If The Character is an OC, draw something about it. If The Character is a character, make an incomprehensible text post or hold my head in my hands and think really hard about them.”

“I imagine him so f***ing hard in my head it gives me a Category 8 migraine.”

“Write…I desperately need more content about them, but there’s only so much, so I must MAKE MORE CONTENT MYSELF.” 

“Realistically, if I am having The Character thoughts, I just rotate like a microwave. Mmmmm….”

“Write about it and send it to my friend who also experiences feelings about The Character.”

“I have already written about 200k words about The Character and I have no intention of stopping now.”

“Write about it, I like putting my beans in scenarios.”

“Draw a horrible doodle, remember I’m bad at art, and then write a 30k fic.”

“I used to breed Pokemon based on all the characters with as in-character movesets as I could.” 

“Put them into Situations in my head.”

“Draw or write about it, it depends on which area of my brain it activates.”

“Playlist with intent to draw or write (haven’t gotten there yet.)” 

“Sometimes cosplay or other fiber arts because I want to be/hold the character in real life (normal.)”

“My ideas Can stem from feelings, but more often it stems from feeling ‘I want to play toys with the characters.’ If I’m having Feelings it’s straight to the Tumblr post to say I’M HAVING FEELINGS, I’M THINKING ABOUT X FACTS AND Y IMPLICATIONS. EVERYONE CONSIDER THIS WITH ME AND CRY ALSO!!!”

“Playlist is a crucial vibes overflow valve, writing requires an actual thought.”

“Wait until bedtime and then imagine them suffering the worst whumps.”

“Lay in bed in the wee hours of the night making up AUs and character studies I will never write. Also, occasionally write something. Occasionally.” 

“Honestly sometimes I make spreadsheets about them. (Brainrotting over a blorbo): I have to make some kind of spreadsheet.” 

“I’m bald option: SCREAM!”

Great work everyone, some of these are FAR too relatable...

[deadboyfriendd]

The Flea and The Acrobat | E.M.

Summary: 1986 was something that seemed like ancient history to you, something that only existed in the world of your parents' nostalgia and preserved in movies and music- so what happens when you slip through a fray in the tightrope?

Warnings: Time Traveler!AU, Eddie doesn't die, Max lives, Will, El, and Johnathan are still in Hawkins after post-season-4 events, S4 spoilers, drugs (marijuana), depictions of blood and gore, bodily injury, mentions of trauma, some things in the show have been changed to accommodate this storyline but I tried to keep it as close as I possibly could, a little bit of fluff, not beta read

18+ Minors DNI

Word Count: 5.6K

Author's Note: This goes along with my TT!AU Headcanons I had a few people ask for a fic so I delivered. I have SO MCUH MORE that I could write for this reader! and this AU, so if there's any engagement I most likely will write more. Enjoy babes <3 Flea

You can’t fathom how you ended up here, nor could you fathom where in the hell you were. It was familiar, yet entirely unhuman. Particles floated through the air in an anti-gravitational flurry, swirling around as you waved your hand through them. There was an immense lack of light here, as if the sun no longer existed- the warmth in the atmosphere sucked through a vacuum seal and was replaced with ice. The nearly unnoticeable hum of the earth had been replaced with a groan, sending the chilled, damp air shooting through your coccyx and ending at your atlas cervical vertebra. You shivered, drawing your hands over your arms frantically- trying to alleviate the goosebumps that raised there.  

You had no cell service here. Actually, your phone in its entirety seemed to be fried. At this point, your brain has only created two options: sit here and freeze to death or find a way out of here. With death not necessarily being on your agenda for that day, you pushed yourself up on your hands and started walking, legs creating a ghostly swirl of fog sound your ankles as you disrupted its settlement beneath you. Despite your lack of notice, you cursed yourself for not bringing a sweater. 

The smell of mildew was prominent in this place, yet it became more apparent the closer you drew to the nearest dwelling outside of your current forest residence. A foreign sound reverberated off of the modest dwellings and you could barely make out the name on the crooked sign: Forest Hills Trailer Park. This earth’s groan became slowly drowned out by another noise- bulbous and muffled, but distinctly human. 

You carefully shuffled your feet across the dirt pathings, not wanting to trip but also trying to listen for the noise. The last trailer was the loudest, your ears ringing- mimicking the screeching alarm of a metal detector. Light pulsed out from behind the curtains and from under the door like a heartbeat- a disgustingly wet squelch succeeding in a gross rhythm. You prayed to whatever god existed in this place that it wasn’t sentient. 

The bulbous hum that drew you in became more distinct, noises became sharper and you could almost make out words once your cautiously pushed the thin trailer door open, foot making a muffled thump as it tapped against the carpet. 

The sight before you was a scene of grotesque morosity- something that Guericalt himself couldn’t begin to dream up. A fleshy gash spanned across the length of the ceiling, pulsating and slick with a mucous membrane that you didn’t even want to begin to guess about. It was the only sense of warmth in this entire plane of existence, heat radiating off of it like a life form, creating a terrarium of spores and vegetation in the trailer dwelling surrounding it. A light radiated from the other side of the membrane, veins casting a shadow from it like a candled egg. 

You don’t know what came over you, but despite your better judgment, you found a large enough piece of splintered two-by-four, dragged the least wobbly remnants of a barstool over towards the opening, and began to stab through the membrane. The pull was immediate and harsh, sucking you upward into a flip and slamming you back down on the ground with a hollowed-out thud. You couldn’t fully assess the severity of your wounds this minute. The only thing you could focus on was the white light in your ears and the blown-out haze covering your ear drums. Within the few seconds it took for your ears to come through, your eardrums were fully able to register the screaming coming from your left, yet you couldn’t yet decipher if it was your own. 

Once the spaghetti of your brain untangled itself from the blow of the fall, you realized that the screaming was, in fact, a mixture of two voices. From your corner, you could make out another figure across the room, huddled as far as they could possibly get away from the gash. You realized then that you had probably been screaming at each other, in turn, scaring each other more. Once you finally gained the common sense to close your mouth, you looked around, assessing the immediate danger you could potentially be in. You could tell that at one point, this place was probably occupied and maybe even cozy, but definitely not anymore. It was barely a structure. 

The boy in the corner was staring at you intensely, like you could probably kill him. You were probably looking at him the same way. 

Words goddamn it. You told yourself, trying to force your lips apart and your larynx to create any sort of sound. A tremor racked through your body, and your voice cracked as you managed a poorly strung-together sentence. 

“Where the fuck am I?” 

It came out like a whisper, tears you didn’t even realize were there sliding past the ducts and creating a trail through the mucous and dirt caking your face. Your body trembled unwillingly despite the warmth in the air. 

Eddie was apprehensive to even begin speaking, his brief encounters with the upside down enough to send someone to therapy for a lifetime. But there’s one thing he did know: those things that tried to kill him had no remorse. None of them cried, and none of them tremored. And none of them looked so… human. 

“Hawkins, Indiana.” He forced out, his whisper barely matching the decibels of your own pathetic sentence just a few seconds before. Once he was certain that you weren’t an immediate danger to him, he mustered the courage to speak again. 

“You’re bleeding.” He said, waving his hand in homage to your own. 

You looked down at your hand, feeling a pang in your stomach at the amount of blood pouring from your hand and your wrist- still not yet able to feel it from the pure adrenaline running through your system. You winced slightly, holding the outside of your wrist with your other hand and clutching the wound to your chest. You used your wounded hand to wipe the tears pooling in your eyes. 

He realized that you were just as terrified at him as he was of you when you drew your knees to your chest in a protective manner as he unfolded his own body and started to lean towards you. 

He put his hands out in a defensive gesture- in an I’m not going to hurt you gesture. He lowered his voice to a barely audible whisper, trying not to startle you- or himself- for that matter. 

“Can I come closer?” 

You nodded your head slowly, watching him with intense, wide eyes as he crept towards you cautiously, hands still out in front of him. 

“Can I see?” 

He reaches his hand out towards you, just extending it out slightly further than it already was and turning his palm outward towards you. His hand had a slight tremble to it, but he didn’t touch you. He didn’t dare. 

“Can I touch you?” 

You looked at each other with wide eyes, and you nodded slightly, reaching the hand that you guarded so heavily out to his. His palm was warm, welcoming against your cold, wet skin. You winced as he graced his fingers across your wrist and palm- a nasty gash spread through the skin where a nail from the two-by-four had torn through it in the fall. He never took his eyes off you- still not trusting you completely. Blood still oozed from the wound, with some coagulating and mixing with the inter-dimensional mucous that coated you. You looked up, trying to see his face, and his eyes left the gash on your wrist to peer at you through his bangs.

“I know someone who can fix this.” He said to you, gripping your wrist, softly. 

“Do you trust me?” He asked, meeting your eyes once more. 

You had no other option, so you nodded, hesitantly, still confused and unable to find your voice. You felt him pull on your wrist, the semblance of him helping you up. You used your other wrist to push yourself up, folding your legs underneath you while he pulled on your other arm. He settled his hands on your waist, steadying you as you wobbled your way out of the trailer and to the rickety old van in front of you. 

He made sure you were seated and stable before reaching over you towards the console, pulling out an absolutely ancient walkie-talkie. 

“Frodo. God- Pick up Frodo!” He screeched into the receiver, getting feedback from an nearly pre-pubescent voice on the other end. 

“What Bilbo, What?” The voice sounded nearly frantic, like it scrambled to grab its own walkie from wherever it fed to. 

“We’ve got a real situation, here, buddy. Meet me at the dungeon, now.” He said, before throwing it back into the console and running around to the other side.

He started the van, engine coming to life with a sputtering roar. 

“Y/N, by the way.” You muttered, finally finding your voice, fluttering your eyes over to him and finally getting a look. This guy was really into the 80s resurgence, you thought to yourself, only giggling in your brain slightly. He did a double take to look back at you, the cogs in his head turning as he processed what you just said. 

“Uh.. Eddie.” He said back, turning his face back to the road. 

It was a short drive to the other end of the trailer park, one short enough that you probably could have walked if you were in better condition. He shut the van off quickly, before rushing to the other side to help you out into the newer trailer- the less destroyed trailer. 

The two of your got in just fine, Eddie allowing you to lean up against the counter next to the sink while he rummaged around in a few cabinets, clearly panicking as his makeshift medical supplies tumbled out of his arms. 

“Hand.” He ordered, dumping everything on the counter with a symphony of crashing, you just shaking your head in return. 

“I’ve got it.” you replied, grunting as you grabbed the handle of tequila, flicking the screw-cap off and taking a pull before dumping it over your wrist in the sink, creating a soup of dried blood, mucous, and whatever particulates had followed you into this world. Once you got a clear look at the cut, you realized it wasn’t enough to need stitches, instead, grabbing the crusty bottle of gorilla glue beside you and pressing the skin together at the edges, creating a rough, ruched seam of skin. Eddie looks at you with a grimace- mirroring your own look of anguish as you messily wrap it with one hand.

The door to the trailer flies open, hitting the wall behind it as a gaggle of young teenagers pile through the door- a tall, messy-haired boy toppling through behind them like a caricature depiction of an overwhelmed dog-walker. In the same way that the six children (you counted) and their keeper piled through the door, their questions began to shoot off in a rapid fire succession like bullets on the beaches of Normandy. 

“Who is she?” 

“You said the Upside Down?” 

“How did she get there?” 

“Everyone shut up!” Eddie rattled off, causing an immediate blanket of silence and stillness to settle over the circus- creating a tension that could be sliced through with dental floss. 

“I was at the old trailer, seeing what else I could salvage and she came out of the gate.” He said, a troubled look settling over his face like they had done this before. The other bigger boy came over, settling a hand over his shoulder as his eyes glassed over. It seemed to reel him back in a bit. 

“Okay, big guy, now we need to know where she came from.” The smaller, curly-haired boy said cautiously, taking a step towards him. 

“You don’t have to talk about me like I’m not here” You spoke, finally, making them all jump. They stared at you silently for a moment, like you had two heads. 

“This one talks.” The gangly, dark-haired boy spoke, more towards the rest of the group that to you. 

“This one?” You asked, interjectedly, sort of offended by the reference. 

“When El found us, she couldn’t talk a lot.” He replied back, gesturing towards one of the girls in the party. Not wanting to dwell too much on that fact, you continued. 

“Well I talk just fine.” 

“Then I’d assume you wouldn’t mind answering my question.” Said the curly-haired one, getting a little too big for his britches. 

“Well, I leaned back against a tree and I thought I missed and slipped and then I ended up there.” You shuddered, running your hands up and down your biceps like you were still trying to wipe the particulates off of yourself. 

“The Upside Down.” The aforementioned girl said, barely above a whisper, her eyes glazing over in the same way Eddie’s did prior. 

“The where?” You questioned back, furrowing your brow. 

“Was it dark? Cold? Floaty shit and weird groaning? Didn’t really seem like earth? Like here but-” 

“Different.” You finished for him, everyone intensely staring at you now. 

“But that still doesn’t explain how you ended up in that gate.” Piped the older boy, finally, looking towards you with a furrowed brow and a sympathetic stare- but you couldn’t quite tell who it was for. 

“Well, seeing as my only options were to freeze to death, brave whatever was out there, or start walking, I chose to make like a banana and split. I walked until I heard something that sounded at least halfway safe and it sucked me through that hole.” You explained, holding up your wrist as evidence that it did, in fact happen. 

“And that’s when she shot through the gate” Eddie interjected, finally saying something after his long bout of silence. 

All hell broke loose, the younger teens all turning to face each other and argue back and forth. It was nearly impossible to get a coherent string of words out of anything happening within that conversation. It was overwhelming, to say the least. Just as bad as Wall Street except way less international exchange of goods and monies and way more things that you didn’t understand. 

“Listen-” You started, causing everyone else to flinch back into silence again, “-can I use someone’s phone? Something happened and mine’s, like frie-” 

You began to pull your cell out of your back pocket, the screen flickering on at the movement but still glitching out. Everyone gasped and took a step back from it, the older boy clutching the shoulder of the young interrogator. This sent them into another Wall Street flurry of stock-and-bond panic. 

“What the hell is that?”

“I knew we couldn’t trust her.” 

“She’s a spy!” 

Their questions and insults rattled off like bullets, you constantly having to bob and weave to avoid getting struck by one. You furrowed your brow again. What fourteen year-old didn’t have a phone? 

“What are you guys? Like, some weird offshoot of Amish? Is this one of those weird cults that lives off the grid? It’s a phone!” You said, like it was obvious, waving it around a little. This caused all of them to duck and flinch away from it like a bomb. 

“No… This is a phone.” The interrogator said, taking a few steps over to the wall and pulling the landline off of the receiver, a long, curly cord swinging and twisting violently with it. 

“She’s fucking with us, she probably came from the lab!” The gangly one shot at you, pointing a harsh finger in your direction. 

“What lab?” You asked, returning the energy.

“Don’t act like you don’t know what lab.” 

“I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.” 

“Tell us the truth right now, spy-”

“Shut up. My name is Y/N, Y/L/N, I am from Hawkins, Indiana, and I graduated from Hawkins High School in 2019! I grew up in-” 

There was another collective chorus of gasps before, yet another, deafening silence settled over the room. Sixteen eyes bore holes through your skin like burning ants through a magnifying glass as you stared back. 

“Say that again.” The oldest boy said, coming up and gently placing broad hands over the caps of your shoulders, looking you in the eyes intensely. 

“My name is-” You began, promptly being cut off. 

“No not that! Your graduating class.” He said back to you, carefully this time.

“What does that have to do with anything?” You asked, confused expressions clearly registering across your face. 

“Just say it!” The interrogator spit towards you, breaking through the room's silence like a rock through stained glass. It made your ears ring.

“Two thousand and nineteen.” You started again, just above a whisper. 

Silent panic ensued. They all looked at each other and you went silent, piecing it together. The silence spun around at a rapid pace like electrons, bouncing off of each other and transferring energy between valence bonds. You could almost pinpoint the exact moment each one of them came to the same conclusion independently. 

“What year is it?” You asked, a few decibels louder than before. 

They continue to stare. At you. At each other. At Eddie.

“I said, ‘What fucking year is it?’” You said again, through grit teeth. Still quiet, but much more forceful. 

“I think you might want to sit down first.” The curly-haired boy said calmly, placing his hands on your upper biceps just like his older counterpart had done. It was much more gentle this time, like someone breaking some terrible, awful news. 

“Just tell me the fucking year.” You pleaded, voice cracking slightly behind it. 

“1986.” He said back to you, with sad eyes. 

Radio silence came from you as you tried to process this new development. You had been sent through the wringer today, shot through a dimension and a half, and a new time zone. You were hurt, you were covered in slime, and you didn’t know anyone here. Not to mention that they all thought you were an alien. And finally, the biggest, shittiest cherry on top of this biggest, shittest mountain, is that, out of every single time that you could have traveled back to- the universe decided on the eighties?

“Like Madonna, The Breakfast Club, leg warmers, 1986?” You asked, thinking aloud. Your eyes were still fixed forward in a trance. 

Dustin nods, not really understanding what you mean but scared to say anything else for how tight you were gripping his forearms. 

“What the fuck.”

+

Once they group was able to reel you back in from that far-away place, they established a few important things: The first being their names. You learned that the keeper of the group had been Steve. He was their resident chauffeur. The curly-haired interrogator and gangly one had been Dustin and Mike. You also learned Lucas, Max, and Will, though, you couldn’t quite pinpoint what exactly to call the other girl. You learned that there were others in the group too, older siblings that were closer to you in age- and adults who hopefully knew how to handle this. 

You also learned that this was nothing new to them. 

They sat you down and gave you a rundown from the very beginning, about the other dimension and how they thought they had lost Will. The funeral, the lab, the telekinesis that resulted in migraines and nosebleeds. They recounted the lab and the things that had happened there, monsters you couldn’t fathom, Russian conspiracies that you couldn;t believe actually existed out of your textbook passages about the cold war. It was a whirlwind of science and legalities and technicalities and things that shouldn’t exist but do- like some sick, twisted Flash Gordon. 

They told you about the friends they had lost. 

And finally, they derived a theory. Sitting sprawled across the linoleum floor of the kitchen, notebook and sharpie marker in-hand, Dustin drew a line. 

“This is the plane between two dimensions,” he explained, 

“and we-,” he gestured to the group, all also sitting huddled around the page on the floor, “are here.” 

He drew a series of primitive stick figures walking along the line. 

“You need to think of it like an acrobat walking a tightrope.” Will started, looking up at you from just beneath your shoulder. 

“When you think of a rope, you need to see how tightly bound the fibers are. We contain too much matter and, simply put, too big to pass cleanly through the fibers of the rope. So instead, we can only move in a linear fashion, back and forth along this line.” 

They looked up at you, making sure you were following along. Dustin uncapped his sharpie with his mouth, starting again through sharpie cap-muffled words. 

“But something small, like a flea, can pass between the fibers and travel in multiple directions along the rope.” He said to you, looking up once more. 

“Okay, so what’s your angle here?” You asked, not quite understanding yet.

“There’s something seriously messed up with our rope. It’s fraying in weird places, letting our acrobats fall and slip through, along with some of the fleas.” He said, stopping for a brief second before starting again. 

“That hole that you went through, we call it a gate. It’s a tear in the space-time continuum, something like a black hole. A fray in our rope- if you will. It was caused by an interdimensional being- a flea- that was powerful enough to open it. Last year, when Eddie and Steve and Nancy and Robin had to go down there, something weird happened.” Dustin continued. 

“Yeah- a lot of weird shit happened. We got attacked by bats and we had to talk to Dustin with the lights a-and…” Eddie started frantically, trailing off once Steve brought a hand back up to his shoulder before he could have a full freak-out. 

“When we were down there,” Steve started, much more collected than Eddie, “Everything is a mirror image down there. We went to the Wheeler’s house to try to see if we could get some supplies and… stuff was different. It was the same house but, like, a time capsule from three years before?” He explained to you, looking to Dustin for further explanation. 

“So what I think happened, is you fell into that time-loop. That fray from forty years from now shot you back to that bubble, and you ended up in its mirror image. Here.” 

They gave you some time to process it all, deciding that it was late and that they needed to be home. They made a plan to rendezvous with the rest of the team in the morning, and that, since Eddie had found you, he was saddled with babysitting you. 

+

“Can I please use your shower?” You asked Eddie, timidly, once you were alone. You were so caught up in getting an explanation for what happened that you failed to notice the thin layers of mucous and inter-dimensional grime coagulating in a crust covering your skin. 

“Uh.. yeah, let me grab you some clothes.” He said, smoothing his hands over his face in the most stressed out way possible. 

He took you down the shallow hall, pushing open the bathroom door and leaving to rummage through his own personal dwelling. You got the shower on quickly, turning the setting to near-boiling and letting the steam quickly tumble out of the confines of the curtain. You stripped your shirt, the back of it peeling off your skin- stuck to you with ectoplasm. 

Eddie walked in through the door as your shirt made a wet splat across the floor. He looked at you with wide eyes, face turning a deep shade of maroon when you turned around. 

You looked at him funny, considering you were still decent. 

“What? Girl next door doesn’t go for runs in sports bras?” You asked him, trying to lighten the mood. He just shook his head, not getting the joke. 

“Oh, come on, it’s the 1986 not 1924. Don’t act like you’ve never seen a sports bra before.” 

He didn’t seem to laugh at that one either. Tough crowd. 

“I’ll just- uh- be out here, you can hand me your clothes from the door and I’ll throw them in the wash. I don’t really know what whatever shit you’re coated in will do to the floors.” He said, turning around and shutting the door quickly. 

You finished peeling your clothes off of yourself, wrapping your bra and underwear up in your shirt before handing it to him through a cracked door. You may have been immodest but you weren’t a complete animal. 

“I’ll be in my room when you’re done. There should be a towel under the sin-”

“Uh- Eddie?” You asked him, a little too quickly, cutting him off in the process. Your voice sounded scared and timid. His tone softened immediately. 

“Yeah?” He asked back, hand freezing on yours for just a second. 

“C-Can you stay with me. Like just outside the door or something? A lot of shit has happened today and I’m just kinda scared a-and-” You rambled, but he cut you off.

“Hey, hey, hey. Yeah, I get it. I can stay.” He said back to you, “I’ll just be right here. Guarding the door.” He sighed, leaning against the door frame. 

You mustered a quiet thank you before closing the door. You could hear his back slide down the door as he settled on the floor in front of the door. It might not have been much, but his back against the door felt like a brick wall. 

+

Eddie let you steal some of his clothes, considering you had nothing but the clothes on your back when you arrived here. He assured you that Robin and Nancy had been notified and would be donating to the cause, and that you wouldn’t be stuck in boy clothes forever. 

“That’s good,” you giggled, pulling the hem of the shirt out to see the Black Sabbath logo cracking across the front of it, the once black shirt worn down to a faded gray, “because Ozzy ages like milk, for future reference.” You said, cheekily, giggling as he looked at you with surprise. 

“He’s still alive?” He asked you, not letting you answer before rapid-firing another question, “And you like metal?”

You laugh again. 

“Yes, but he’s hanging on by a thread. All that shit catches up eventually. I’m sure without Sharon, he wouldn’t be able to function.” You explained to him, “-and yes, I am into metal, but if we’re talking about this era I’m more of a Mötorhead girl myself.” 

He turned around, to rummage through the one organized thing in the entire room: his cassette stand. He pulled out a dusty Mötorhead cassette with a soft aha!, popping it in and coming to sit next to you as the music began to roll. 

You sat in silence, head in your hands, clearly stressed despite the music blaring in your ears. You rubbed the front of your cheekbones, drawing your hands back to stretch the skin of your face over your temples and then dragged them back along into your hair.

He dropped down on the edge of the bed, looking over at you. It didn’t feel that long ago when he sat in the same position at Skull Rock, alone. He was still just coming to terms with all of this stuff, and still, he found his mind reeling back into that dark place sometimes. His scars went way deeper than his skin, which was mangled beneath his clothes as well. You still had open wounds, both physically and metaphorically. He wondered if your eyes would glaze over, too. He knew how you were feeling, but questioned how you hadn't had a complete breakdown after today. 

But even with the bags under your eyes, you were still pretty. So, so, pretty. 

“It’s a lot. I know.” He finally piped up, perhaps a little too loud. You quickly drew yourself up from your own hands to look at him, skeptically. 

“I just… I don’t know. I didn’t even know this shit existed until I was sitting in it.” You said to him. It was then that he realized you had been silently crying. Not loud, just tears coming out of your eyes. Your voice sounded overwhelmed and nasal. 

“Tell me about it,” He chuckled, but there wasn’t an ounce of humor in it, “The uh- well- My introduction to this shit was watching a girl die.” 

His statement was blunt, and cold. His mind began to reel, and it terrified you. You didn’t press further. 

“How long were you down there for?” He asked you, attempting to reel himself back before he floated off into space- unable to be pulled back in. 

“A couple hours I think?” You said to him, wiping your eyes with the backs of your sleeves.

“God, I couldn’t imagine. That’s all we were down there for when we got attacked.”

“I’m glad I didn’t stick around long enough to see what that place had to offer me.” you joked, but it was still humorless.

You both stared off in the same direction for a second, purposefully letting the conversation fizzle into nothingness. It was still too fresh for you and it was still too painful for him. It was a good few minutes before he spoke again. 

“I think I have something that’ll help, y’know.” He said to you, ever so delicately, he brought his hand up to your shoulder and let it hover there- deciding if touch was what you needed or not at the moment. 

“And what is that?” You questioned, turning your face towards him- head still resting in hands and elbows sitting atop your knees. 

“Do you partake?” He asked, dipping his head down to meet your eye-level and making a small gesture with his hands- holding an air-joint. 

“Everyone does in my time, it’s legal now.” You told him, half smile curling at the corners of your lips. 

“Well I’ll be damned, but I bet you’re not getting it at my discounted price- the discount being free.” He mirrored your smile- his escaped the confines of his pretty mouth just a little bit further than yours had. He reached down under his bed, just next to his bedside table, and pulled out a box. Inside was an entire artillery of all things dank. 

“Oh good God, no, it's eighty bucks a cart at my dispensary.” You groaned, burying your face in your hands. He gave you a confused look, shifting his gaze from the grinder and then back over to you. 

“Cart? Never heard of it.” He questioned, thinking Rick had been holding out of him. If there was new tech in marijuana, Rick would be the one to know. 

“I guess those are a pretty recent thing. Now, they extract a concentrate from the cannabis itself and you smoke it that way, kinda. No more smell and no more rolling.” You explained, mimicking the action of rolling with your hands, as he was actually completing the action. 

“That’s some high-tech shit. Like The Jetsons.” He chuckled, handing you the joint and his lighter to do the honors. 

“One of the many luxuries of modern life, my friend.” You said, words escaping around the joint between your lips and rolling out in the first intense puff of smoke. 

“Are we?” He asked, taking the joint as you passed it to him. 

“Are we what? Friends?” You asked him back, looking him up and down. 

“Yeah.”

“Well… I guess we’re gonna have to be if we’re gonna figure this shit out.” 

+

“Classic rock? Is that what they’re calling it?” He laughed out loud, clutching his stomach as he leaned back against the wall. 

“So I’ve heard. You guys are older than shit ‘round my parts.” You laughed equally as hard. 

“I guess it all comes back around, we talked shit about Elvis and you guys talk shit about Crüe.” He tried to rationalize, turning his head to meet your eyes. 

“Crüe isn’t even metal, though. They’re calling it glam rock now” You said back, raising your eyebrows and looking for his reaction. 

“Well if you don’t consider Crüe metal, then what is metal by your standards?” He quizzed. Now both of you were leaning back against the wall, legs splayed out on the bed in front of you. He turned his head to meet your eyes, looking down at you. 

“Try cannibal corpse” You giggled softly, the effects of the comedown starting to hit you. You rested your head against his shoulder, and he allowed his to rest on top of yours. 

“I don’t think they exist yet, but in a few years, get ready to party.” You giggled again softly.

“What should I look for?” He asked, “I’ll keep my eye out.” 

“Their first album was Eaten Back to Life. It comes out in ‘90. There’s some pretty solid ones on there. But you need to wait until ‘92 for The Tomb of the Mutilated, all of their best songs are on it.” He let you ramble on, waiting for silence from you before answering. 

“Sounds metal.” He said, back, smelling the smell of his own shampoo on your half-damp hair. He thought it smelled better on you. 

There was a lull in the conversation, breaths becoming deeper with the fatigue of the drugs and the long day. You sat, eyes fluttering shut, sleepily, but not sleepy enough to reach out and grab his hand. Your own fingers snaked up his wrist and wriggled their way through the canyon of his palm and in between his fingers, mimicking the way his did when he analyzed your cut. He rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb for a bit. 

“Hey, Eddie?” 

“Yeah?”

“I think I’m gonna make ‘86 my bitch.” 

[boldlyvoid]

can u do a blurb about reader wanting a baby and asking her co-worker Spencer to be the donor because he's smart and nice and she wants a cute baby?

you said blurb and i read 2K word fic apparently lmao

Late nights behind a desk were the worst. Y/N hated reading over case file, after case file, of horrific things as she tried to choose where they went next.

The only plus side was that she wasn’t alone, Spencer was at his desk just beside her. Like he always was. They had an interesting friendship, to say the least.

Ever since Y/N joined the BAU, Spencer and her were glued at the hip. They had all the same interests, liked the same music and movies, and they spat out information the same way, they were like each other’s dorky other half— but it was just a friendship.

They had a tradition to watch at least one movie together after a case, to just chill for a bit together. Always randomly picking one of their apartments to go to, spending the night together until one of them eventually wandered off to bed. Leaving the other on the couch.

They weren’t aware of their feelings for each other for a while. Both of them being so used to being alone, and never having anyone be interested in them before. It was hard to understand if the feelings they had were pure friendship, or if it could ever be more. If the sex would fuck everything up and take away that perfect happy place they found in each other, or would it make the bond stronger?

She noticed the crush before Spencer showed any signs of liking her back. She woke up every morning thinking of him, that's when she came to the conclusion that it was more than just a friendship. She wanted him in her life forever, she wanted to kiss his perfect lips and hug his soft body, wake up beside his messy hair and just love him for the rest of eternity.

She sighed as she picked up another file, not excited to learn about the horrible acts taking place in what people called, “the best country in the world.” She’d disagree any day of the week.

This one was a file about some missing kids apparently being spotted in a van altogether in Georgia, it looked interesting enough to be the next case. She hated reading all the info, seeing every kid's happy face in the file knowing that’s not how they looked now.

“Good god,” she groaned as she flipped through the case.

“What’s wrong?” Spencer asked over the divider.

“Nothing,” she shrugged, “just a bad case.”

She handed it to him over the desk, hearing him flip through all the sheets as he read a million words a minute. “We should show this to Emily first thing,” Spencer agreed, pushing himself over to her desk in his wheely chair.

“I will,” she smiled softly, taking the file back from him and placing it on her desk.

Spencer stood then, making his way into her space and rubbing his hand over her back slightly. “Are you okay?”

She sighed, “actually. no, I was telling Garcia I want to have a baby soon, and then I see things like this and I’m scared to do it alone but I don’t have any other option?” Ranting to him like he was her therapist.

“What do you mean?”

She turned in her chair to look up at him, his soft brown eyes really caring to hear the answer. “Sit,” she insisted.

He pulled the chair over more, sitting close enough that their knees touched. “I’m 36, I’m not having any luck finding a husband or a wife, I want a baby and if I have to do it myself I will, but what if I’m not enough? What if I have a boy and he grows up to be a killer cause he never had a dad?”

“Y/N,” Spencer’s voice was soft as he looked at her with a confused scrunch on his face. “That couldn’t happen, you’re a wonderful person, I love having you on the team and in my life, I know you’d raise good kids, you should do it.”

“Really?” She beamed at him, the words touching her heart and making her swoon a bit.

“I mean, it would be hard,” he added reason to the conversation. “You’d have to take time off, which would be good for bonding. My mother raised me alone and I turned out semi-fine, I don't hold any resentment for her not finding someone for me to call dad or even step-mom for that matter. I think if you give them all the love in the world like I know you’re capable of, your child will love you like you’re their whole world.”

She laughed as she noticed the tears welling in her eyes, waving her hand's in front of her face so she wouldn’t fully sob. “Do you want to be the donor?” She made a joke to change the topic.

Spencer laughed then too, “sure!”

Everything got serious again then, she looked at him a little differently. “Really? Cause honestly, you’re like a Grade A donor profile in the most expensive clinic!” She couldn’t help herself from laughing again at the absurdity.

“I’ve always wanted to be a dad, 40 isn’t too old to have a child, is it?” He seemed to have decided that rather fast.

“Okay,” she nodded with a smile, “okay. That’s cool, sick,” she felt the words get smaller as she thought it over.

“I get it if you were kidding,” Spencer spat out. “I realize now that you might have been making a joke, I hope it’s not weird that I agreed so fast, it’s just that I think you’re a very beautiful and smart woman and the idea of helping you make a child makes me really excited. I think it would be a very good idea if you were being serious, but I get it if you’re not.”

She let him get it all out, always loving when he got like this on a case or in person, nervous or just because he wanted to talk, she loved to listen. And no one ever let him finish his thoughts, always wanting to beat him to the punch.

“Spence, I think you’re really handsome and smart too,” she smiled. “If you’re also serious, I am too.”

“How would we?” He asked as he pulled at the top button of his dress shirt, swallowing like he couldn't breathe all of a sudden.

“If you’re not opposed, I’m sure the good old-fashioned way would work?” She laughed, laying her hand on his knee softly.

It was like sparks flew at that moment as if all the fluorescent lights in the bullpen could have exploded and she wouldn’t have even noticed. Captivated by Spencer's eyes as he gasped at her touch.

“Not opposed in the slightest,” he said softly as he held his own hand over hers.

She couldn’t help herself from smiling. “Well, I think I’m all done here if you want to come to my place for a movie?”

“Sure,” he replied, offering her a hand as they stood up together.

He returned his chair to his desk, both of them grabbing their coats and bags and rejoining at the door.

“I should go say goodnight to Penny,” Y/N said softly. “Wanna come?”

“Yeah,” he followed her through the door and down the hall to the tech room.

“Knock knock,” Y/N said as she walked through the open door. “Oh great and knowledgeable one, I’ve come with my nightly farewell.”

“Oh my knight, I shall miss you,” Penelope played along, sauntering over to her and wrapping her up in a hug. “I leave you with this until your return.”

“Through scorching deserts, and blistering winds, I will make it back to you, always,” she tried not to laugh as she hugged her back. “I also brought forth the jester.”

Spencer was laughing in the doorway as the two of them looked at him, “hi?”

“The pretty boy, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Um,” Y/N smiled, “Spencer and I are just going back for our nightly movie.”

Penelope looked at both of them, jaw slightly gaped, “nightly? I thought it was a case by case thing?”

“It’s a good excuse for us to talk,” Spencer smiled at her.

“Mhmm,” she smirked, “well have fun.”

She pulled Y/N back into another hug, hiding her face from Spencer, “I need all the dirty deets in the morning.”

Y/N smacked her arm softly as she pulled back, “goodnight pretty penny.”

“Farewell brave knight, handle with care, Jester,” Penelope pointed her finger at him, giving him a knowing glance.

“Yes, oh Knowledgeable one, always,” he blushed.

He reached out his hand for Y/N, interlocking their fingers as they left her office and headed towards the elevator. A rare moment of bravery on his part, holding hands like this didn’t spread a lot of germs.

“We’re going to have to discuss a lot of logistics like realistically this isn’t going to be just a fuck and oh look its a baby. This is a real live baby that we need to raise and care for,” she reminded him as the elevator doors shut.

“I’d like to be as involved as you’d let me be,” Spencer replied. “I don’t have to be 'dad' to them, I could be uncle Spence that’s fine too.”

“Oh no, you’d be Dad for sure,” she nudged him slightly. “I mean like, weekends and holidays and birthdays, your mom will want to see them surely, my parents will want to see them. Housing,” she looked at him horrified. “I have an apartment with 2 bedrooms, I don’t think I could let them sleep somewhere without me.”

“I have been looking at houses,” Spencer added before the doors opened to the garage, “you’re driving right?”

“Yeah, you were saying?” She replied, digging her keys out of her purse and leading him towards the car.

“Derek Morgan, I’m not sure if you’ve met him yet, he fixes up old homes in DC and Virginia now. He just finished one and I helped him with it. I think I’m going to buy it from him. It has 4 bedrooms, we could all live under the same roof? It would be easier to co-parent.”

She was amazed at how fast he adapted to this as if he’d been having the same thoughts she was having. At a certain point wanting kids becomes a pipe dream filled with desperation and emptiness, he looks like he’s experienced it too.

She opened her door and sat down before replying to him again. Thinking about how wonderful he was going to be during this process, “thank you, Spencer.”

“For what?” He asked as they both closed their doors.

She sighed, relaxing into her seat as she started the car. She turned to him softly, not wanting to cry as she spoke softly. “Being a mom is more of a dream to me than joining the BAU was, this is the best gift you could give me.”

He reached his hand out again, holding it softly. Running his thumb over her knuckles. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Yeah,” she nodded softly.

He couldn’t make eye contact with her, staring at their hands as he rubbed her skin.

“Um, I’ve been pretty infatuated with you since you joined,” he let it out finally. Like a ton of bricks off his back he relaxed a bit, “after everything with Maeve, Cat and Max… oh god, and JJ... I was so worried that if I got too close to you I’d lose you. I tried to keep the feelings in, that's why I said what I did to Penelope. She knows how I feel about you.”

It was like fireworks were going off in her chest as the butterflies erupted inside of her. She sat up, turning to him more and ripping her hand from his grasp.

It startled him, he looked at her anxiously as if she was going to yell at him. But she placed both hands on his cheeks and pulled him into a kiss.

His arms snaked around her waist, wishing they could get closer if it wasn’t for the damn centre console of her car. Pressing their lips together, hard, as they breathed each other in. Desperation taking control, she wasn’t able to let go of him.

When she finally did pull away, however, the look on his face was priceless. Like expensive art, every line and freckle had a meaning. He was surprised, enamoured, grateful, desperate for more.

She smiled softly, rubbing her thumbs over his cheek. “Good, cause it would be awkward having your baby and not getting to love you every day too.”

taglist: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor

[ofcharactersandplayers]

Writer Questions

The Basics

1.     Do you listen to music when you write? Usually. Sometimes I don't but most of the time I do.

2.     Are you a pantser or plotter? A little bit of both lol.

3.     Computer or pen and paper? I use an app on my phone to do a lot of my stuff but there's nothing like handwriting a particularly moving scene.

4.     Have you ever been published, or do you want to be published? Being published would be neat. It's not my ultimate goal.

5.     How much writing do you get done on an average day? About a page. It's fairly sporadic.

6.     Single or multiple POV? Single.

7.     Standalone or series? Series.

8.     Oldest WIP - post-apocalypse digimon story

9.     Current WIP - see above as well as various smaller oneshots lol

10.  Do you set yourself deadlines? Never!

The Specifics

11.  Books and/or authors who influenced you the most: Jay Bonansinga

12.  Describe your perfect writing space: outside in autumn

13.  Describe your writing process from idea to polished: for school/work it’s just kinda one and done lol. personal projects just never seem to get fully done.

14.  How do you deal with self-doubts? Self-doubts in writing generally don’t affect me because I don’t really write with the purpose of sharing with other people. I write for myself. Who cares if it’s bad or dumb or not well-written? It’s for me.

15.  How do you deal with writer’s block? Turn to another project.

16.  How many drafts do you need until you’re satisfied with a project? Forever.

17.  What writing habits or rituals do you have? Not sure I really have any. When I first started writing it was only by hand, with a black pen, and in cursive. Over time that grew to be blue pen/cursive, back to black pen/cursive, then in pencil/print, then black pen/print. Now it’s whatever is on hand.

18.  If you could collaborate with anyone, who would it be, and what would you write about? Prb @jumper-zuzu

19.  How do you keep yourself motivated? If one thing isn’t working out try something else. I’m writing a personal world. I control how things go.

20.  How many WIPs and story ideas do you have? Countless.

The Favourites

21.  Who is/are your favourite character(s) to write?: Folks with dangerous backstories, folks that eventually HAVE to ask for help after exhausting all other options.

22.  Who is/are your favourite pairing(s) to write?: Chicago PD fanfic, Adam Ruzek and OC Phoebe Driscoll.

23.  Favourite author: In no particular order - CS Lewis, JRR Tolkien, Philppa Gregory, Stephen King, Edgar Allen Poe, Ted Dekker, Andrew Klavan

24.  Favourite genre to write and read: action/adventure, sci-fi, fantasy, heroism

25.  Favourite part of writing: the bolt of inspiration that makes an entire scene come together.

26.  Favourite writing program: PureWriter (samsung app)

27.  Favourite line/scene: “You don’t know what I have, but I WILL tell you, despair is definitely not on the list.”

28.  Favourite side character: Calumon (no I refuse to explain)

29.  Favourite villain: Lucemon

30.  Favourite idea you haven’t started on yet: I had a concept where a child in the care of an OC was tragically lost and it spurred OC to a line of anti-heroism.

The Dark

31.  Least favourite part of writing: the spans of time where nothing seems to be happening

32.  Most difficult character to write: romantic interactions (no seriously I’ve never dated so I have no idea how to write romance situations)

33.  Have you ever killed a main character?: Not yet. Side characters and enemies, but not a main yet.

34.  What was the hardest scene you ever had to write?: I’m still trying to figure out a first date situation in a Chicago PD fic.

35.  What scene/story are you least looking forward to writing?: killing an MC.

The Fun

36.  Last sentence you wrote: “You know I’m taking all that as a ‘no’ to my question, right?”

37.  First sentence of your current WIP: The sounds of the house collapsing behind her barely reached her over the sound of the storm.

38.  Weirdest story idea you’ve ever had: post-apocalypse digimon

39.  Weirdest character concept you’ve ever had: cousins-turned-sisters, opposite in every single way.

40.  Share some backstory for one of your characters: Phoebe lives with her uncle on a ranch in America. Her sister disappeared in a bad thunderstorm while sophomores in high school and 2 years later Phoebe still battles with the guilt of believing she was to blame for the disappearance. Her uncle, fearful for the blatant social withdrawal of his adopted daughter, signs them up for a foreign exchange program.

The Rest of It

41.  Any advice for new/beginning/young writers?: Do it for you. Above all, do it for yourself.

42.  How do you feel about love triangles?: Useful in certain situations but I find them to be far too used.

43.  What do you do if/when characters don’t follow the outline?: Follow the characters. Better yet let the characters write the outline.

44.  How much research do you do?: A lot. I do whatever I can to make sure I’m writing believable situations that actually work as they should. I don’t like to use a lot of “It’s fiction! It works because I say so!”

45.  How much world building do you do?: a LOT lol. I can go for HOURS.

46.  Do you reread your own stories?: All the time.

47.  Best way to procrastinate: Listen to music and stare at a blank page.

48.  What’s the most self-insert character/scene you’ve ever written?: When I first started writing (6th grade) I LITERALLY REWROTE episode 1 of Digimon Frontier to replace Kouji. Hey, everybody starts somewhere.

49.  Which character would you most want to be friends with, if they were real?: Takuya Kanbara, prb. Dude is just out there and I’m a lot like that. Kouji would have his hands full trying to keep us wrangled.

50.  Any last words?: Writing is an outlet. Writing is limitless. Writing is yours.

[starrynightstudyys]

Productivity Tips

For those who just can’t seem to get things done because their brains won’t let them

There’s lots of cool tips out there to study more and study better, but I don’t see many about just understanding how to study at all and not staring at your work for hours on end and getting nothing done even if you want to.

In short:

Take care of yourself

Organization

Multitask responsibly

Pomodoro

Be careful with your obsessions

Try different study spots

1. Be kind to yourself.

Studying is hard enough, even for the gifted kids, straight-A students, 4.0 since birth, effortless workaholics.

If you feel exhausted, take a break. A timed one is best, but take a break. Sleep, walk around, eat, do something fun, stare at the wall, cry, talk to people, scroll online, rant to yourself about life, do anything except be productive. Rest if you need it. You won’t get things done if you’re always 2 seconds from crying.

Sleep, for the love of god sleep. There’s no competition of “who can function the best on the least sleep”. Get a minimum of 8 hours, please, for your own sanity. At minimum, I do 6 if I have a lot of studying to do in one night, but these are exceptions. You can’t study if you’re sleepy.

2. Have some level of organization

If this means a full bullet journal, a dedicated notion space, daily todo lists, or even random post-it notes and lists on your hand, anything is better than nothing. When you’re overwhelmed and forgetting things, a visual reminder can save a grade.

On the other end, don’t spend hours organizing. If it’s during a break that’s okay, but when it cuts into actual studying, you might be better off with a sticky note stuck to your face then a beautiful header and color-coded database (as painful as it sounds 🥲)

3. Do stuff while you study

Eat snacks, drink stuff, play with figit spinners, play lo-fi or music in other languages. If it’s distracting, then don’t, but consider it.

4. Time yourself

Use pomodoro (cliché, but it works, i promise). If you can’t afford forest, try your phone’s native timer or other free pomodoro timers. For the notioners, Bloc’s has a free widget.

MinimaList is a cute, simple todo list app with a pomodoro feature

5. For the hyperfixators

Time youself like I mentioned above, but do your thing during breaks if you can’t help youself. When I get obsessed with a new fic or show, I take my 10 minute breaks to read or watch. It’s both motivating and comforting.

It’s hard pulling yourself away, but don’t forget about what you need to do. Do your best :) If worst comes to worst, have 30 minute breaks in between the 30 minute study sessions. 30 minutes of productivity every hour is better than 30 minutes of staring at your book and 10 minutes of staring at the wall.

Ideally, don’t give in and read/watch/etc. when you have studying to do, but this is better than nothing.

6. Try different study spots

I didn’t realize how effective this is until recently. Move around every week or every day and get a new spot.

You have options: in just my room, I have my desk, my bed, the ground, and the random chair in the corner. You might also have: random benches outside, the library, your kitchen table, the couch, the grass under a tree, hallways, or your dining hall. This also helps with back/neck pain! Maybe it won’t work for you, but maybe it will.

Just to repeat, be kind to yourself. If your friend was crying, exhausted, burntout, depressed, you wouldn’t tell them to suck it up and study. Don’t do that to yourself either.

Bonus: try my recent musical obsession: Seori, a korean R&B artist I listen to when I study. It helps that I usually can’t understand the lyrics, so it’s like lo-fi. Take care, study well 💜

If you have more, add them in a comment and I’ll reblog.

[darkandstormyart]

Xicheng fic recs

(figured i might make a list of my own)

(to be expanded as i dig out more treasure/remember stuff)

in no particular order:

Deep as the Yearning Night by FreckledStarKnight

“At first, it was pure chance. The second time was accidental. And the third time? Well, they say the third time’s the charm, after all. Lan Xichen discovers that Jiang Wanyin sings beautifully and is immediately enamored by it. His pursuit of Jiang Wanyin’s secret talent leads to a discovery and a series of events that he did not anticipate at all. Not that he’s complaining, of course. He got what he came for and more. Or, how two sect leaders get together through the song called love. CQL-verse.“

post-seclusion lxc

trying to get jc to sing

bonus lxc & jin ling feels i hadn’t considered before

cute

Always use protection by hesselives

“In which Lan Wangji attempts to hire a new bodyguard for his older brother, a well-known traveling exorcist. Jiang Wanyin doesn’t even make his carefully considered list of Top Ten Candidates, and yet here he is.

Lots of wandering in the countryside, distant yelling, and mildly inconvenient spirits.”

bodyguard au

honestly just really intersting worldbuilding

Rewrite the stars by Arashii

“Five great kingdoms have been fighting for years and when the kingdom of Yunmeng is destroyed, the Crown Prince Jiang Cheng vanishes.In Gusu, Lan Xichen makes an offer impossible for Jiang Cheng to refuse. His life or revenge? There’s only one option and Jiang Cheng swears loyalty to the man he hated the most his whole life, the Crown Prince of Gusu, Lan Xichen himself.Written for XiChengFest2020 - Day 4“

ROYALTY AU ROYALTY AU

enemies to lovers!

flashbacks! i love flashbacks so much ohmygod

No paths are bound by Arashii

“In seclusion, Lan Huan has the support of a ghost no one has seen since the massacre of Yunmeng Jiang. His feelings start changing with the often visits and conversations they share. Before Lan Huan can confess though, he ascends, leaving everything and everyone behind him.

Two hundred years later, back to the Human Realm and without powers, the Martial God Zewu-Jun has a mission to uphold. His Heavenly Calamity started. The clues are little and the support comes in the most unexpected form, the current Ghost King: Sandu Shengshou. Now they need to stick together to contain a menace that is slowly growing.“

TGCF AU TGCF AU

ghost king jiang cheng come on

doesn’t follow tgcf plot, just the setup so no spoilers

jiang cheng gets the dogs and the xichen he deserves

once upon a dream by cafedeolla

“Xicheng soulmate AU

An au where your dreams are small snippets of your soulmate’s day. They’d show small things like buying coffee, reading a book, or hanging out with people from their perspective.

The problem was that people always have expectations and Jiang Cheng knows he always falls short of them. Time and time again.“

soulmate au, but being soulmates is more a problem than a solution

misunderstandingssss all over the place

now with a squel (in progress?)

Lan Furen series by jagaimocchi

“Jiang Cheng leaves Lotus Pier before the Wen Internment Camp and before the destruction of his home. When he meets Lan Xichen on the run from the Wens after the burning of Cloud Recesses, his plan to live a peaceful life away from cultivation sects is quickly derailed. Now, free to make his own choices, he cannot find it in himself to leave the other man's side.

With love, patience and time, Jiang Cheng finds his own happiness and peace with his past.“

have you ever wanted a fic where jiang cheng peaces out from home in search for a better life, bc he’s Had Enough??? jags got you covered

adorable xicheng

good uncle-dad-figure Lan Qiren

ongoing <3

Just around the riverbend by JungleJelly

“One day.

Jiang Cheng just wanted one day of peace and quiet, away from home, away from his responsibilities, away from his idiot brother and his nutcases of a mother and father. Just a few hours alone — him and a boat and nothing else.

Clearly, that was too much to ask for.”

now with a new story in the series which is adorable too!!!

mermaid!lxc need i say more?

Bad ideas (where they lead) by JungleJelly

“Jiang Cheng is a busy man. Fortunately, he is also a huge pushover when it comes to his sister, so when she recommends that he start doing yoga, he agrees pretty easily.Featuring Lan Xichen in yoga pants, Jiang Cheng’s inability to handle a crush, and, perhaps most importantly, a big fluffy dog.“

done for 2020 MXTX MiniBang

yoga instructor Lan Xichen

Jiang Cheng is: struggling with a crush on the yoga guy from youtube & very angry about that

If there’s a price for rotten judgement by TheWanderingHeart

“All Jiang Cheng wants to do is, well... his job, really. Other than that? Keep the city safe, keep his nephew alive, keep his sanity intact (if possible).

So when his brother calls with unexpected news, he knows all of that is about to fly out of the window.

***

[Every instinct is telling him don’t ask, you don’t want to know. By this point, Nie HuaiSang has scooted closer to listen. Jiang Cheng takes a steadying breath and pulls out his antacids. “What did you do?”]”

superhero au, come on

jc just trying to do his job in peace

(he can’t)

i love it so much oh my god *sobs*

The Form of Boneless Ice by TheWanderingHeart

“Mythical beasts have long ago been driven to extinction by the gentry — hunted for sport, but more importantly for their magical cores. Since then, there remains only one creature that has never been caught. The Jiang’s retreated a long time ago. Abandoning land altogether, they sought safety where the humans could not reach.It all comes to a head though, purely by chance. (Or is it by fate that a spontaneous decision allows for them to meet? If fate were a rock!) Jiang Cheng suddenly finds his whole life balanced on the head of a pin — on the flimsy promise of a human boy. In his opinion, things cannot possibly get worse!(But then they do when the Wens decide it’s finally time to search for the elusive merpeople, and suddenly nowhere is safe.)“

there she goes again, with another beautiful xicheng story full of awwww and mythology

actually one of the first xicheng fics i read

i chose it because there were mermaids

painfully accurate takes on Jiang family dynamics

kids! lots of kids!

Let me Slytherin to Your Heart by TheWanderingHeart

“Jiang Cheng never thought he'd return to Hogwarts, but in hindsight, he probably should have known that someday he would.With his nephew about to start school, he reluctantly takes his good friend's bad parenting? career? advice and ends up tumbling head-first back into the madness that he hoped he'd left behind... and rediscovering some feelings he thought he'd left behind too.“

Harry Potter au!

just really fecking cute

lots of snakes

[I am not going to link all of Jo’s fics, though I probably could, just my 3 favourites. UOSB is there by default]

Talent Hunt Crew Finds Angry Guy Shouting On College Campus, Recruits Him For Vocal Projection Abilities by oh_fudgecakes

“Jiang Cheng, resident Angry Guy and heir to a conglomerate empire, has never been the apple of his father’s eye. Quashed under the shadow of his brilliant brother, the music prodigy Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng sees his chance to turn things around when he is recruited by the All-Stars Lan Talent Hunt. One problem: he can’t sing to save his goddamn life.As he struggles to develop his nascent singing abilities, Jiang Cheng finds himself sucked into the whirlwind drama of reality TV, helped along by his adoring siblings, his irritable vocal coach Wen Qing, and strangely enough, the unfairly attractive host of the All-Stars Lan Talent Hunt, Lan Xichen. Somewhere in the glare of the stage lights and an unexpected first love, Jiang Cheng stumbles upon the thing he was searching for all along: the courage to dream — and to attempt the impossible.“

done for 2019 MXTX Big Bang

uuuuuuuuuuh i might have cried maybe

heartwarming? painful at times? lots of family love?

slowburn xicheng being lovely

The Provenence of Hope series by velithya

“A chance meeting on a night hunt sets a course of events into motion that will change everything. Featuring Xicheng getting together, recovery for Lan Xichen, healing for Jiang Cheng, and always, always, hope.“

got everything. feels. hope. love. ~~healing~~

A Small Measure of Peace by Sandstone112

“With his brother in seclusion, Lan Xichen finds himself in temporary custody of his nephew with little to no expertise in the child-raising department. Uncertain and alone, Zewu-Jun is willing to do everything to be the person Yuan needs—even if it means inviting Sandu Shengshou to a playdate.“

a loooot of adorable family times with jc and lxc taking care of their nephews

good grandpa lqr!

canon but fixed and less painful

🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋if you wish to avoid scurvy:🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋

Some day I’m gonna make you mine series by locketofyourhair

xicheng getting together through the years

friends with benefits but the real benefits are the friends we made along the way

Take me over (take me tonight) by velithya

jiang cheng has a tattoo and lan xichen doesn’t stand a chance

i'd be the sweet feeling of release (mankind now dreams of) by piyo13

two bros, chilling in a cave, no feet apart because they don’t want to lose their cultivation powers what are you gonna do

haven’t read yet and shame on me, but AM GONNA:

Upon Our Silver Bridge by TheWanderingHeart obviously

““When the path ignites a soul, there's no remaining in place. The foot touches ground, but not for long.” ― Hakim Sanai

**

Lan Xichen's sorrows have caught the attention of something. Unlike the adventures and foes they have faced before, there is no obvious enemy here to defeat. If this is the same thing they thought had taken Nie Mingjue's life, then he believes it is fated for him to die as well. Nothing can stop the black fire when it wants to burn.Jiang Cheng is sure his part in this is over. Wei Wuxian is back, his grand adventure concluded, and he'd never been at the centre of it anyway. So what does it matter what happens to him in the end? Slowly, he will come to realise that there will always be a battle to fight, a story to tell, a choice to make, and there is no such thing as an end to anything.“

it was difficult to do things in 2020 and few i regret not doing more than not reading uosb yet :’(

i will tho

Emergency Help Wanted by piyo13

“EMERGENCY HELP WANTED I lied when I got my job. I told them I had a kid so I could leave early from work to pick him up from daycare, take him to doctor's appointments, and occasionally miss a day when he's sick. Long story short, I'm in too deep. I didn't think it through. Looking to rent a kid for bring your child to work day. Must be a boy ages four to six, longish dark hair, likes soccer. Must also be artistic as the macaroni noodle paintings I made seem a little advanced for his age. Also, I will pay extra for someone willing to play the role of husband when dropping him off. He's a prosecuting attorney who often brings his work home. Message me for further details. Serious inquiries only.“

Running Our Hands Through Embers by MarvelousMar

“If asked, Jiang Cheng would compare falling in love with Lan Xichen to a moth inevitably drawn to a flame.It burned.***In which Jiang Cheng discovers that even death can't help him escape from his trauma, so he embarks on a quest to save the people he loves, fix what he can, make the love of his life fall for him, and maybe, somewhere along the way, do a little bit of healing.”

The Beginner’s Guide to Moving On by InvincibleMel

gone from ao3, but i think there’s a link with a pdf going around