#stali fanfic

[pearlypairings]

So in case you missed it....

This past Friday was my birthday where I shared this birthday challenge and have been busy chipping away at the beautiful 12 prompt asks in my inbox!

Now that I've completed each drabble/ mini-ficlet🥳 here's what's happening:

For the next 12 days starting tomorrow (1/17), I'll be posting one of the prompts a day in the order I received them around 8pm eastern time....

AHHH YAYYYYY🎉 so keep your eyes peeled for...

ST Pairings included: hellcheer, photocheer, stali, clarke x kelley, and platonic-stobin with the most common prompt asked being: "you remembered?" followed by baking a cake & "put the icing DOWN" tied for second! & more!

At the end of the 12 days (1/29), I'll make a final post linking back to all the prompts in case you missed any and keep them all organized under the tag #pearly birthday prompts.

Thank you especially to the friends who submitted one of the prompts and hope all of you enjoy whatever my silly brain came up with! This has been the best gift in a long time for my creativity. Don't forget to tell me which ones are your favorites <3

dividers by @firefly-graphics

[empress-of-snark]

maybe I’m wrong

won’t you tell me if I’m coming on too strong?

this heart of mine has been hurt before

this time I want to be sure

stranger things rarepair collection

[1lostsoul0fishbowl]

I went crazy making those Penguin bookcovers. Serious shout-out to the champion who created this image generator, because I’m having a blast with it.

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[wheremadnesslies]

Imagine Kali learning asl for hoh Steve when he doesn't want to wear his hearing aid. Her learning the signs for when he should take it off and let the world be silent before he gets a migraine.

Imagine the party watching as Kali, this girl they don't know other than she ran a gang and that there's no way she's good for Steve, watching her treat Steve softly. Placing her hand on his arm and taking his hearing aid, putting in her own bag.

They watch as Steve smiles at her like she's every sweet and precious thing wrapped into one. Watch as he so easily guides her away from hallucinations. Watch as she lets him hold her tight while the hallucinations fade.

They watch as they live taking care of each other and loving each other and wonder why they ever thought she was bad.

[imthursdaysyme]

Kali with her powers turned against her

Real was a term that soon became relative. An idea that she could think over but couldn’t hold. To her, what was considered real became something of fantasy. She supposed it could be akin to flying. People seeing the stretch of wings on birds and bugs, watching as they flew in the sky. Knew it was possible. Yet breaching into the idea that humans could fly became a fantasy. A idea that held power and longing and desire. 

Kali now felt like a child desperate to fly. She could feel the roof beneath her feet as she ran her feet across it, could feel the air fly around her as she jumped off the roof. Praying that motivation, that hope, desire, wishful thinking, would be enough to make flying possible. Surly the only reason she couldn’t fly was because she started on the ground. Because her hope was too small. Her wish was too dull. 

Yet, as she felt herself continue to fall, she knew that it was something she could never have. Reality became something, no matter her tries and determinations, that she couldn’t have. 

Terror ran through her veins more than blood. Terror over what was real and what wasn’t. Terror over hurting the people she loves. So she took her terror and molded it into anger. Into a new brand of rage and determination. 

It was always easy for Kali to make people afraid. Whether of her or a vision she gave, it didn’t matter. And she used it. Took it and wielded it like the weapon that it was. Made people give her wider gearth, a wider range of interaction. 

The problem came with her friends. The ones who knew what she looked like with her walls down. Who knew her as she was underneath her walls. Her terror. They didn’t take the bait easy. Didn’t want to leave her. Kept her close with a tight grasp. 

Yet she knew how to push people away. Difficulty didn’t equate impossibility. And slowly, painstakingly, they left. Released their grip on her. And she was left alone. Which was how she wanted it. It was better, she swore, even as she held her stomach trying to quell her anxiety and loneliness that reared its head.

It was better. 

Now she couldn’t hurt them. Didn’t have to worry if the words coming out of their mouths were real. Didn’t have to worry about them shifting in her vision into something different. Something changed. 

But the visions didn’t go away alongside the people. New ones came. Formed in the back of her mind and made reality in the dark corners and empty chairs at her kitchen table. She began seeing atrocities she knew weren’t real when they were over. Knew that some things were just out of the range of possibility. 

Although some, some held too much likeness to truth. And she rifled through her memory and wasn’t sure what was real and what was fake. Her memories became something of a novel based on a true story. Sure some parts were real. But some were embellished. Some were unknown and warped her version of reality until she couldn’t figure out what was real. 

She wasn’t sure if her friends came back for her. Did they really walk through the threshold, screaming at her for being selfish? Did the bugs she saw crawl across her sheets really live there? 

She wasn’t sure, and therein lied the problem.  She just wasn’t sure. 

And she never would. 

So she sits alone at her empty kitchen table, fiddling with her silverware, and wondering how long she would sit until someone found their way to her table. 

And she would wait for them, of course. Wait for her delusions and stretches of reality to sit with her. Wait for them to kick their feet up. Wait for them to serve themselves long forgotten food on the counter. Wait for them to look at her, stare into her eyes, and tell her she was cruel and unjust. Tell her she was selfish and unkind. 

Because what else was she to do? Delusions and reality were merged, and so she would wait. 

Wait until something felt real. 

[bisexualchrissycunningham]

Kali also being the Goddess of Time (aside from the Goddess of Death) lends credence to ST Kali finding her way back to Steve - if not in canon, then in our fanfics and hearts. (Also Kali is technically also associated with 'doomsday' so imagine that ST Kali has some sort of sense for that. Some kind of danger sense. And that's why she ends up back in Hawkins). Plus there is a story about Kali getting so lost in her bloodlust and powers after battle that Shiva has to sacrifice himself; Kali only returns to herself when she sees what she's done to him, specifically. That, too, fits with ST Kali and Steve.

Maybe this is cause I'm very stoned but I'm confused. Feels like you meant to send to someone you'd already been talking to? Even if I'm missing something, I'm intrigued about these connections you're making for a potential Stali story. And Kali being connected to doomsday.. the way she SHOULD come back in S5 but won't cause the Duffers are cowards. I want an entire show about the Stali slowburn love story! I deserve this!

[belldandye-blog]

Vilma Kadlečková o fanfikcích

Díky přímluvě Womisky mám pro vás oficiální stanovisko Vilmy Kadlečkové k fanfiction a k fanouškovské tvorbě jako takové.

Ráda bych z něj totiž později citovala do hesla Mycelium na Fanpolis. 🙂 Milí členoví hnutí Obrození 2.0 i vy další, šiřte, prosím toto poselství dál a v ideálním případě by vás to mohlo inspirovat k tomu, abyste také napsali na Mycelium nějaké ty fanfikce. 😛

Fanfic chápu jako naprosto přirozenou součást literárního světa a jako krásné propojení autora se čtenáři. Je to logický způsob, jak začít s vlastním psaním: autor fanfikce si vypůjčí postavy, které si v nějaké knize zamiloval, vypůjčí si fikční svět, ve kterém mu bylo dobře, tím si ušetří práci, kterou jinak autoři mají s budováním prostředí a vztahů, a může si s hotovými postavami rovnou hrát a použít je podle svého. Taky je to způsob, jak napravit nějaký neblahý dějový zvrat nebo špatný konec, který čtenáře v originálním díle naštval, a dopřát postavám lepší osud nebo šťastnou lásku. Sama jsem ve skutečnosti taky začínala psaním fanfikce, akorát se tomu tehdy ještě tak neříkalo: psala jsem ji někdy kolem roku 1986, to mi bylo patnáct let, a byla to fanfic na Dumasovy Tři mušktetýry, ve které Athosova syna Raula, který v originálním díle zemře, zachrání mimozemská vévodkyně v létajícím talíři.

Vím, že k Myceliu fanfikce vznikají (něco v psané podobě, něco dokonce jako čtený podcast). Většinou je to homosexuální slash (což jistě souvisí s tím, že v Myceliu jsou dva výrazní mužští hrdinové, mezi kterými je dramatické napětí; jejich neustálé konflikty vlastně celý příběh táhnou a dojde mezi nimi k ledasčemu, ovšem tohle vyústění jsem nedopustila). Nijak mě to neuráží, s chutí si to přečtu 🙂 Občas ke mně taky po sítích doputuje fanart – obrázky a dokonce animace. Pak se v souvislosti s Myceliem vynořila ještě jedna fanouškovská aktivita, a to je tvorba jazyka. V Myceliu je mimozemský jazyk – össein –, ale moc péče jsem mu nevěnovala a neměl žádná pravidla. Pak se ale mezi čtenáři našli dva lingvisti, kteří vymysleli celou gramatiku, výslovnost a etymologii. Díky nim mám program na generování össenských slov a překlady různých termínů. Také vzniká myceliální wiki. Obecně beru všechny tyhle fanouškovské aktivity jako tu největší poklonu: to, že někomu na těch postavách a světě natolik záleží, aby mu stálo za to sednout k počítači a investovat svůj čas a úsilí, aby jim dopsal další scénu nebo vymýšlel reálie, je ta nejlepší věc, která se autorovi může stát, protože to znamená, že jeho svět žije a příběh rezonuje se čtenáři a že si ho berou za svůj.

A naopak: myslím, že autor ani nemá právo fanfikce zakazovat. Tím, že dopustil, aby kniha vyšla, se jeho svět a postavy staly součástí oceánu příběhů, ze kterého všichni čerpáme. Hranicí, za kterou by mi fanfikce začala vadit, je komerční využití, čili situace, kdy by se autor fanfikce rozhodl nějaké dílo s mými postavami a světem vydat pod svým jménem a inkasovat honorář. Pak bych pokládala za slušnost, aby to se mnou konzultoval. V zásadě se ale ani v tomto ohledu neuzavírám spolupráci. Psaní ze "sdílených světů" je oblíbený model, sama už jsem se taky jiných podobných projektů účastnila, a kdyby někdo chtěl napsat povídku z argenitového vesmíru (světa Mycelia), vlastně budu ráda, protože ve svých padesáti už vidím, že ten svět rozhodně celý vlastnoručně prozkoumat nestihnu.

Šiřte, prosím, toto poselství do světa. ❤

[mothellie]

1. What is the first fandom you were ever a part of?

3. All-time favorite pairing?

💙

1. What is the first fandom you were ever a part of? It depends on what you consider my first fandom lol. I was really into One Direction when I was in the 6th-8th grade and even wrote 1D RPF, which was the first fanfiction I ever wrote. But I personally consider The Maze Runner my first real fandom because that was the first time I actively tried to engage in fandom spaces. I was really big into Newtmas and there is still a public Newtmas oneshots collection on my old Wattpad lmao.

3. All-time favorite pairing? God this is a HARD ONE. Because there are these few ships that I have literally never gotten over and probably never will. Newtmas was the first ever ship I ever subscribed to and they will always have a special place in my heart. I feel like with every fandom I join, there's at least ONE ship I never get over. So far, that's Newtmas, Reed900, Sinn and a handful from Stranger Things (Steddie and Stali especially). I guess if I had to pick, I'd say Newtmas just because that ship was so pivotal in both my coming out journey and also is just so special due to being my first. Newtmas, they can never make me hate you.

-> In response to Fandom/Fanfic Asks !

[planetsam]

“That one.”

“Now that one.”

“Maybe—“

Steve sighs loudly and receives a withering look from the girl on the other side of the counter. He’s making minimum wage but there isn’t enough money in the world to keep him in this sailor hat if she keeps it up. People in Hawkins are, at minimum, polite. The free samples have never been an issue. They take one, are apologetic if they ask for another and the only person whose asked for three has been Jane. Which is a special case. Meanwhile the girl on the other side of the counter is holding ten and coming back for seconds, not seeming to know that she’s breaking the code.

“Okay, you get one more and then you have to choose,” He says finally, determined to put his foot down.

It seems he’s not alone.

“There’s no limit,” She says pointing to the sign.

“There didn’t have to be,” Steve shoots back, “I’m about to run out of sample spoons.”

“Are you calling me fat?” She snaps.

“What?! No! I’m saying you can’t eat all the ice cream for free. It’s a reasonable request!”

She considers this for a moment, then flips her hair so he very clearly sees she’s shaved off half of it. Steve groans. He’s got a feeling her and reasonable have a very complicated relationship. He glances over his shoulder, looking for the manager for help but he can’t see him. He turns back to the girl whose pacing in front of the counter looking more like a panther he saw at the zoo once rather than a girl in a too big flannel standing in Hawkins, Indiana.

“What’s your favorite flavor?” He asks. She shrugs, “Okay what flavor did you like best?” She looks thoughtful for a moment, then glances at the spoons, “you had this one twice,” he says, tapping the case.

“That one,” She says thoughtfully, her brows pulling together before she shrugs, like admitting she likes it best is going to have some kind of consequence.

“Okay I’m putting this in a waffle con—“

“What’s that?” She demands and it’s so harsh and suspicious he almost laughs.

“It’s good, it’s good,” he assures her, picking up one of the cones that’s dipped in chocolate and sprinkles and putting a few scoops of mint chip in it. He holds the cone out and she looks like he’s about to attack her. Her touch is gentle when she takes it, she’s painfully careful not to touch him. She examines it for a moment before putting the sample spoons into her pocket except the mint chip one. He lets her consider it. “Good?” She nods and pulls a twenty from her pocket, ending his debate about her being homeless. He gives her change and she shoves it into her pocket, the same one with the spoons. “Great.”

She seems to realize it’s awkward standing there while she has her ice cream. She takes a few methodical steps back, still delicate with the cone. He’s just starting to think that she’s acting oddly familiar when the door opens and Jane runs in, looking frantically around. Mike is on her heels. She makes eye contact with the strange girl and exhales loudly.

“There you are! Don’t run away,” she says sternly. She frowns at the cone, “too much sugar,” she scolds, like she’s in any position to be giving anyone advice on nutrition. The strange girl bristles at the scolding and Mike gives him a look of pure panic.

“Ahoy Janey!” He says as loudly as he can. She whips around. “Can I interest you in our new maple butter pecan? Tastes like syrup.”

Jane loves syrup. She gives him that same predator look and Steve feels like he’s testing his luck being prey today. He still digs out a sample and when he looks up she’s right there. He hands the spoon over and she tastes methodically, only taking half before she gives it to Mike. He knows this game and takes the other half, making a face because he doesn’t share her love for all things waffle related. Jane considers for a moment.

“You could get two scopes,” Mike points out.

“Maple and the usual,” she says. Steve nods and reaches for the scoop. The case closes, “usual first,” She instructs. He nods and props the lid up, scooping into the cone.

She pays for it in methodically counted out quarters. The other girl continues to sit there, eating her cone methodically. It’s a weird day in the ice cream parlor. The three of them exchange quiet words while he pretends not to be listening. When he looks up they’re back in front of him.

“We need a pint of mint chip to go,” Mike says. El gives him a look, “Steve this is Jane’s sister Kali, Kali this is Steve.”

“Nice to meet you,” He says.

“Likewise,” she replies, taking the pint from him.

“Hang on, here,” he says, giving her a pack of the waffle cones. She goes for her money, “on the house. Call it a welcome to Hawkins present.”

He gets the oddest sensation of cool and swears he sees frost on the window, only for a moment. When he looks up the three of them are gone and he’s suddenly glad for the cold that brushes his spine.

[mirdaniaa]

fireplace

“Kali.”

“What?”

“This is not a fireplace.”

“Of course it is. It’s a place with fire.”

“Oh my god. Kali. That is not how a fireplace works.”

“I’m from England, Steve, I think I know what does and does not constitute a fireplace.”

“This is literally just a trash can with a fire in it.”

“Right.”

“That is not a fireplace.”

“Not with that attitude.”

“A fireplace has brick and you can sit beside it.”

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had your PhD in fireplace architecture.”

“You led me here under false pretenses. You told me you had a fireplace that we could snuggle beside.”

“I told you I had a fireplace. I said nothing about snuggling.”

“It was implied.”

“The same way you implied I had a brick fireplace?”

“We’re breaking up.”

“Stop being such a baby and come snuggle with me.”

“Beside an on-fire trashcan? I don’t think so.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“Fireplaces are not supposed to be adventures.”

“Sounds like quitter talk.”

“I’m going home.”

“It’s negative five degrees.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

“Steve.”

“Kali.”

“...”

“FINE. But next time you have to specify what kind of fireplace.”

“After this hissy fit, I certainly will.”

[truthofherdreams]

Of baseball bats and psychic powers (2)

Kali doesn’t exactly know what to expect when she enters the cabin. It looks old and musty from the outside, not unlike the empty warehouse she’s been squatting since she was fourteen. One gets used to never truly be warm again after a while, that shiver down your spine, nose ice cold in the middle of the night. But whatever she expected when she entered the cabin, arm clasped in Jane’s, it isn’t this.

Everything is warm and welcoming, in a rustic kind of way. There are pillows on the couch and books everywhere, a few pictures above the fireplace. She even spots a bunch of drawings on the fridge across the room, even if her eyes are more interested in the pictures.

Home for Kali is a long lost concept. Flashes of a life that used to be hers behind her eyelids – London in the summer, all the lights during Diwali, the henna on her hands and in Mamma’s hair. Home for Jane is a gruffly man and a ragtag bunch of skinny kids, the smell of burning logs and ancient dust.

It leaves Kali… nostalgic for a past she never got to live. For a life ripped from her clenching hands.

“Do you want something to drink?” Jane is at her side, a glass of water in her hand. She’s taller now, her hair longer. So far from the small toddler who’d draw until there were smudges of crayon all over the paper.

“Nothing stronger?” she asks, her fingers in desperate need of a cigarette to hold.

One of the boys, the one with the curly hair and colourful vocabulary, snorts a laugh. “Hopper locked the wine cellar. Says he doesn’t trust us.”

“As should he,” says goody-two-shoes from where he leans against a wall, arms folded in his chest. Kali glares at him, but he doesn’t react. It unnerves her.

She downs her glass of water. Too bad her powers never worked on her own mind, otherwise she would have tricked herself into believing it was vodka. She winces, before she hands the glass back to her sister. Her sister, god. Kali never was a very sentimental person, but she has to admit she missed Jane. They were only together for a few days, and there are many a great things she regrets doing in such a small amount of time, but. At the end of the day, Jane is still her sister and Kali was not lying when she said she felt whole again by her side.

Like she can breathe easily again for the first time in ages.

“How you doing?” she asks softly.

Kali doesn’t do sentimental, or anything of the like, but still she raises a hand to brush her fingers against Jane’s cheek. Her hair is so much longer now, falling in pretty curls on her shoulders. She doesn’t dress like a farm girl anymore, but there is still something suburban about her, like she can’t shake it off. The way Kali can’t shake off the look that comes from a decade living in the streets of Chicago. The dirt under her nails was never meant to go away.

“Good,” she replies, soft. The fire still burns in her eyes, but it has been tamed by peace and quiet. Kali envies her that.  “We haven’t had any problems since... last time. I’m going to school now.”

No monsters, no evil government, just the jolly old life of a teenage girl. Kali definitely envies her that, in a weird way. Normal has never been in the cards for her, and she’s done a good job of acting like it’s fine. No use letting your mind wander on things you’ll never get, after all. It hurts, and Kali stopped hurting when she was ten.

Still, she is happy for Jane, because Jane is happy. This kind of selflessness is new, but welcomed. It makes for a nice change. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Jane is about to add something when the front door opens with a loud bang, and Kali reacts before she even thinks. One hand grabs Jane to pull her behind her, a blade switching open in her other hand as she faces the newcomer. She vaguely hears the teenagers gasp and whistle in response, all her senses focused on the man at the door. The beige uniform and the badge on his hip only make her tighten her hold on the knife, until she remembers what Jane told her. Doesn’t mean she move, though.

“What the hell?” comes the loud, bear-like voice. The man glares at her, and Kali glares back. “Kid, let go of the knife.”

Behind her, Jane grabs her arm with both her hands, squeezing until it pinches. “It’s fine. It’s Hopper, he’s not a bad man.”

“I sure as hell am not,” the guy echoes.

Which, not helping. But Kali will believe Jane’s opinion above all else, at this point, so she stands straighter after another beat, folding the knife before she slides it back into the pocket of her jeans. The kids are staring at her, and so is goody-two-shoes. His eyebrows disappear beneath his stupid fringe, a familiar look in his eyes – confused lust, yep, she’s used to those.

“Sorry,” she tells the policeman. She’s anything but.

His eyes travel up and down her body, frowning, before he sighs loudly. He doesn’t say anything as he moves toward the kitchen, opens the fridge and cracks open a beer. So much for not having alcohol, but Kali knows better than to ask for a bottle. Instead, she waits for him to sit down in the only armchair, and to point at the couch with his beer.

“Sit. Talk.”

And so she does.

The words come difficulty to her at first, as she talks about her childhood in London, discovering her powers, being kidnapped and shipped of to another country. Cold and caged and lonely, terrified. It somewhat gets easier as she goes on, talks of the rainbow room and Jane as a toddler, the tests and experiments, being probed and pushed until her nose bled and she passed out from exhaustion. Jane being taken to another room. Deciding to escape. Not being able to free Jane and having to leave her behind. Finding her way to Chicago. The life she made for herself here.

She leaves out the details of life as a runaway brown girl. They want the truth but they don’t need the trauma, the nightmares and memories she swallowed down to make herself stronger. They don’t deserve her secrets.

When she finishes with an explanation about how she found and killed Brenner, Kali is so exhausted she rubs her hand under her nose.

It comes out clean.

 …

 She leans against the wall, staring at the forest without seeing it. It is quick but for the quiet hoots of an owl and the sound of cooking and table dressing inside. The night wind is cold against her cheeks, a sharp contrast with the warmth of the cabin and in her blood.

Kali hates that she feels like that, so at odds with the world. After her tale, Jane had shown her her bedroom, with the teddy bear on the bed and the books on the desk and the pictures pinned to the walls. This outrageous display of normalcy doesn’t sit well on Kali’s stomach. Jealousy isn’t an emotion she is particularly fond of but, seeing Jane so at peace in this little world of hers, so loved and cared for, it stirs something within Kali, something that had been dormant for too long. It is why she came her, she knows, but having her nose pushed into it on the first evening is a little too painful for her own good.

Hence, taking a time out, away from this life she never wanted for herself but can’t help but envy.

She’s grabbing a cigarette, pack in one hand while the other pats her pockets for a lighter, when the front door opens to her left. She’s about to tell Jane to go back inside, it’s cold and she will get sick, but it is not Jane opening the door. Instead, Kali finds herself frowning at goody-two-shoes when he offers her a tentative smile. Yeah, she isn’t smiling back.

“Fire?” he asks her, taking the same Zippo as before out of his his pocket.

She snaps it from him, lights up her cigarette in a second, before pocketing the lighter. He looks affronted, but doesn’t call her out. Instead, he rolls his eyes and leans next to her on the wall.

“At least it’s tobacco this time,” he comments, nodding to the pack of Marlboro still in her hand.

Kali’s glare hardens. “And you are?”

“The babysitter,” he replies without missing a beat. There is a smile at the corners of his mouth, but she’ll be damned before she asks him what the private joke is. She very much doesn’t give a fuck. “Name’s Steve.”

“Cool.”

She’s not looking at him anymore, gazing back at the forest in front of her, but his stare is drilling holes into the side of her head. She wonders how he would react, if she snapped at him. If he would react at all, the creep. He wasn’t in any of Jane’s stories about what happened after she escaped the lab, and Kali wonders where he fits in all of this. What happened for him not to be scared of her powers and her invading his mind.

“I have a perfectly comfortable couch if you want,” he goes on.

She does stare at him this time. How could she not? “What?”

His ears and cheeks turn red, but he doesn’t look away from her. It takes balls. “Don’t tell me you wanna stay with Hopper. Nobody ever do, and you just admitted that you’re a murderer so…” He shrugs, like this is a perfectly normal conversation to have with the estranged sister who dropped out of nowhere. “And I have a couch, cold beers, and I can look the other way when you’re smoking pot.”

She squints at him. “You’re a cop too.” Less of a question, more of a fact.

He shrugs again. “In training. But, like, it’s Hawkins. We’re used to looking the other way.”

Kali hesitates. She doesn’t want to stay away from Jane now that they are reunited, but goody-two-shoes has a point. Kali doesn’t feel entirely comfortable under the policeman’s knowing gaze, not after confessing to several murders under the guise of vengeance. He seems nice and all, especially since he’s letting Jane use her powers now, but. Still. Once a cop, always a cop.

She looks him up and down, smirks a little at the way he fidgets under her gaze. What’s the worse that could happen, anyway? Jane will be, like, fifteen minutes away at best. She can mentally reach out to Kali if she wants to speak. And they’ll see each other tomorrow, and the day after. And he’s right. Kali’d rather be with someone her age, just for a little while. She does miss Mick with a passion.

“What’s your name again?”

He grins.

[pearlypairings]

3, 4, 8, and 11 for the fic rec asks!

3. fic that made you reconsider a ship?

Lost and Found and Turned Around by our very own @1lostsoul0fishbowl shifted my whole perspective on Steve x Kali. I went from being a little confused/curious to full on fan by the end!!

4. favorite rarepair fic?

ahhhh again, I'm sorry I have to give it to the queen of rarepairs @1lostsoul0fishbowl for her Gareth x El fic Next Time I Fall. It's soooo well written and grounded, I couldn't rec it enough!!! All of the main char are so well fleshed out with their past traumas, insecurities, wants, desires, etc it's stunning tbh.

8. fic you think should be mandatory reading? 

for hellcheer, To the clouds above by @horologically is one of my fave short and sweet one-shots full of fluff and teen vibes <3 it's a must read for the fandom I think :)

11. wip you're excited to keep reading in 2024?

I know I know I know people are sickk and tired of hearing me rave about this fic, but Trading Burdens by pseudostitch has me in a CHOKEHOLD. Mystery thriller with hellcheer romance= happy ecstatic pearly. I can't wait for the next update!!! Read this fic if you can <3

ask for a fic rec

[stalia-reblog]

Stalia smut

[1lostsoul0fishbowl]

Lost and Found chapter 4 posted!

Kali reveals more hidden truths. Gareth reveals some hidden fears. El plays wingwoman and Will plays matchmaker. Steve is just kinda there in the background being adorable.

Read it here on Ao3!

[wheremadnesslies]

Kali: how tf did you learn how to pick locks so well?

Steve, thinking back to being locked in his bedroom as a kid: uh i was a rebel as a kid. real rich kid rebellious stuff. like breaking and entering. 

Kali: Robin told me you were like, very tame.

Steve, nervously sweating: rebellious in secret?

[scoundrels-in-love]

1, 3, 4 and 18 for the shipping asks?

Hi sweetheart!! Thank you for asking!

1. What was your first OTP? I think my first one would be Han and Leia, though I knew they’d be together by time I watched movies (around 10 or so). But I didn’t get super invested until much later. Though I will never forget how I screamed at my TV that ‘you will love her!!’ when Han said he’s either going to kill her or like her and my brother glared at me.

The first ship I read shitton fics of, despite not having watched original material was Jareth and Sarah from Labyrinth, courtesy of a friend. This was when I was 14.

But my first shippy ship, the sort I get invested in fandom beyond stray fanfic, was Jisbon from the Mentalist. What I joined Tumblr for and read more fics than I can count and so much meta and even rambled to my mom with. It sort of felt like my real first OTP, in every sense.

Though I do think Han and Leia technically predate and I have many feelings for them and they shaped a lot of things for me and I’ve spent countless hours on their fics as well.

3. Do you have any OT3/OT+ ships? What are your favorites?I have some OT3/OT+ ships, though usually they’re a step lower than my OTPs of same fandom. Some examples would be Steve/Nancy/Jonathan or Them + Kali from Stranger Things, while Mileven is my main OTP and I love Kali/Steve + Nancy/Jonathan as separate ships that are friends.

Also, recently been having Feelings about Jaime/Brienne/Addam from GoT.

And if, unrealistically, Rey/Finn/Poe happened, I’d be quite pleased though they’re not my primary ship.

4. What is/are your favorite trope(s)?Going to steal the answer I wrote a while ago to such question so I don’t have to retype the essay, because it’s true.

I am someone who has hard time picking favorites, but something that has stuck to me through the years, from back when I was 8 is ‘enemies (to friends) to lovers’ trope.

There’s, of course, certain balance that must be met. Some things push the enemy thing too far (r*pe, for example) and I genuinely want at least one sided appreciation/respect from the start, underneath all the bickering and snarking, even if the party denies it. From there on, it grows, so wonderfully despite being on opposite sides of things/views and gives way to begrudging respect and care and first glimpse of love and then the couple loves each other, knowing the worst of the other and how to handle it and knowing how to nourish and support the good, and it’s so damn beautiful.

Also fond of found family, deeply. And as I’ve grown older, I’ve gained much deeper appreciation for just companionship and love founded on friendship without very strong (or any) enemy phase. Usually goes hand in hand with castle sized soft pining, to be honest.

Most of the time, these tropes are actually ingrained in ship dynamics themselves, instead of adding On. So, something that only fanfic sometimes gives is Communication and Hurt/Comfot, especially emotional sort. Lot of characters I love have lot of trauma, even if it’s never properly acknowledged by canon (*cough* Leia Organa *cough*) and I like when fics do it and give them the comfort they deserve. Also self projecting/soothing for the win.

18. What is your favorite unpopular ship?Hmm, what is defined as unpopular? Something Canon that’s not widely known? Not yet canon ship? A crackship?

I’d say I’m very fond of Monrosalee despite the small fandom of Grimm from which great part shipped the male of it with show’s protagonist. It’s definitely my smallest absolutely canonical ship. Then there’s Finnrey, which is also not that large in fandom, overshadowed by bunch of other ships, but has chances of being canon and I’m going down with the ship anyway, denial fics and all, if need be.

And then there’s a crackship, which would be Stali or Staloncy (the ot4) from Stranger Things. Unfortunately, Kali has never and probably never will interact with anyone else in the ships but does that mean I am not emotional mess over them? Nope.

Send me shipping ask?