#this is stupid but it was a really fun way to start the year

[please-destroy]

You'd Like That

Elizabeth Olsen x Reader

Word Count: 1K

.

You’d thrown her off. You could tell. 

Lizzie’s smile was dimmed. She leaned her chin against her hand, watching you from the other side of the small party. Her forehead was furrowed, her finger touched her lower lip without her realising.

You looked down at your drink. It was all your fault.

.

You’d been close friends for years. For a long time, you’d floated around in the same social circles, never really saying more than a few words to each other. 

Then, there’d been a slightly too drunk get together organised by a mutual friend. 

That evening quickly became something unexpectedly perfect. You’d spent hours talking with her in someone else’s backyard, wrapped in old blankets that you’d found when she’d started shivering. You talked for hours about every subject, laughing more than you’d ever laughed with someone before. 

When you left that party in the early morning, you’d wondered if this was one of those magic nights. Or, if Lizzie might really become a friend. 

She called you the next afternoon and answered your question with her nonchalant greeting and conversation.

Her friendship quickly became the best part of your life. 

Life doesn’t follow the routes you expect. This was one of the good unexpected turns. 

Lizzie was not lowkey. That was a common misconception. 

You remembered the first time she called you from a Whole Foods. It had taken a ten minute ramble about grocery choices until you realised the subtle anxiety in her voice. The fear of making a mistake, the many ways it could manifest. 

She apologised after the call. A line of texts, where she made fun of herself. 

The world shifted on its axis and you saw Lizzie clearly then. 

‘Call me whenever, I’ll never mind.’ You’d replied simply.

Lizzie didn’t trust easily. That was true.

It’s how you knew you were special. It was so easy to find a rhythm with her, to live on the same wavelength.

Every year for her birthday, you spent the day together. Every year, you told her that you loved her. That she’d made your year better.

Lizzie would smile, roll her eyes and wrap you in a hug. 

You knew that you were special to her but you’d been careful not to jump to conclusions. 

Until, of course, you’d said something stupid. Something honest. And Lizzie had left. 

.

Now, at the party, as you refilled your drink and tried to ignore the loud music, you realised that you’d likely ruined everything.

The thought settled on your shoulders like a heavy weight, a ready nausea filling your throat. You left your untouched drink on a side-table. You craned your neck, scouting for Lizzie in the crowd.

You saw her dim silhouette on the small balcony and headed over. 

Her pale face turned towards you as you slid open the french doors. Lizzie was sitting on an ancient wicker chair that looked close to collapse. It creaked as she moved to face you.

‘We should talk.’ You suggested softly.

Lizzie’s long hair shifted over her shoulder as she nodded in agreement. Her fingers trailed the edge of the balcony railing. 

‘Did you always like me like that?’ She asked abruptly. ‘Is that why you started talking to me?’

Her cool tone made you nervous. You wondered if this was pointless, if everything had already unravelled.

‘No.’ You answered slowly, careful in your honesty. ‘Just a little bit more every day.’

Lizzie’s expression faltered. You could tell it wasn’t what she’d expected. She crossed her legs and you couldn’t help but notice her bare skin.

‘Since I got bigger movie deals?’ Lizzie asked, accusation barely hidden. 

A flash of hurt ran through you.

‘No.’ You tried to keep a level tone. ‘Since the day you called me at Whole Foods.’

Lizzie shook her head.

‘That doesn’t make sense.’ She said quietly.

You shrugged, staying silent as sadness rolled through you. This felt pointless, you’d already lost her. You’d already made the confession that you couldn’t undo. A wave of grief was burgeoning. You wondered if you’d drown. 

You slipped your arms out of your sweater and pulled it over your head.

‘Every year, I spend Valentine’s Day excited that your birthday is only two days away.’ You told her quietly. You handed her your sweater and nodded down to her bare legs, hoping she’d use it as a blanket. She always got cold on nights like these.

‘I’m sorry I fucked it up.’ You told her softly. Lizzie’s eyes reflected distant stars back at you. 

You walked back into the party with the distinct feeling that you were no longer yourself.

.

With no alcohol in you, you decided to leave and walk the few streets back to your place. The cold air countered the twisted grief burning up your insides.

You walked with a mind full of Lizzie. 

Valentine’s Day was tomorrow. You couldn’t care less, not anymore. 

You thought about her birthday in three days. You tried not to think about her smile, about how quickly a person can become a memory. You hoped Lizzie wouldn’t be alone for it.

.

You turned the corner of your street. 

Lizzie was stepping out of an Uber at your front door. She was wearing your sweater, her hair was caught beneath it. She straightened at the sight of you, raising her hand in a tentative wave.

You walked closer, heart in your mouth. Unfiltered surprise was running through your veins.

‘Why Whole Foods?’ Lizzie asked when you were in hearing distance. ‘Why did it start then?’

You laughed suddenly, at the most obvious unanswerable question in the world.

‘Why not?’ You countered. ‘It had to happen some time.’

Lizzie watched you like you were something brand new. A silence fell between you before she spoke again.

‘Valentine’s Day is tomorrow.’ Lizzie told you seriously, fingers playing with the sleeves of your sweater. ‘We have nothing planned, and I actually had other plans. Not with anyone, not anything like that. But, I’d still have to cancel them. And I had errands to run in the afternoon.’

You recognised the familiar tone of Lizzie’s anxiety. You realised suddenly that she was just scared. 

You took her hand, twining your fingers and giving a quick squeeze.

‘We could just get groceries.’ You suggested with a soft smile.

Lizzie let out a shaky breath, her lips quirked upwards. She squeezed your hand back.

‘Yeah.’ She teased. ‘You’d like that.’

[totalswag]

Hey girl so I was wanting more dad drew and I was wondering if you could do something like where Tatum is like a teenager and her personality is a lot like her moms which causes them to buttheads sometimes, and in one argument Tatum says some hurtful thing to her mom making her mom cry so drew had to have a talk with her. You can add Leo to idk I was just kinda thinking but besides the point I love your work and I think your amazing keep up the great work girl love ya

teen tension ⎯ DREW STARKEY

authors note stop i miss writing dad!drew, one of my favorites. tatum as a teenager is a mixture of both parents. thank you so much for the kind words it really means a lot. happy new year everyone, i hope you all had a fun and safe night <3

taglist ⤕ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set to go.

masterlist

summary tatum, your oldest, says a few hurtful words to you that make you cry. drew has a conversation with tatum about what she did to you.

warning(s) arguments, crying, child + parent arguing.

Tatum is very much like you when you were a teenager. Moments during the week where you two buttheads about certain things that are typical for a mom and daughters to "argue" about.

However, tonight took a turn for the worse. Everyone was sitting at the dinner table finishing up dinner. It had been a long day at work for Drew and you been home cleaning the house.

Leo was talking about how his day went—recently, Leo, has gotten into basketball and wanted to try out for the school. Drew and you were excited to hear the news and encouraged Leo to try out.

"Tatum, could you kindly get off your phone? "Your brother is talking," you say aloud, attracting her attention as you point to Leo, who has stopped talking.

Tatum rolls her eyes and sets her phone on the table beside her dish. "You can put it on the counter please."

"Why can't I leave it next to me?" She gives you an attitude, "We are sitting at the dinner table eating, and none of us have our phones next to us," your tone remains casual but firm.

"Leo can still talk and I won't be on my phone" crossing her arms over her chest, not bothering to move her phone from the table.

Before Tatum can finish speaking, Drew cuts her off with a clear and serious voice and says, "Tatum, watch your tone and listen to your mom." 

Tatum groans loudly, pushes her chair out, picks up her phone, walks to the kitchen, and puts it down after rolling her eyes in frustration.

"There look you happy mom?" Tatum mumbles "so dumb" under her breath as she emphasizes with her palms raised.

You hear her say, "It's not stupid, Tatum." We've had this regulation in place for a very long time, so I don't see why everyone is acting this way—" Tatum slams her hand on the table and interrupts you in the middle of your statement. 

"Please, Mom, just shut up already. I'm tired of you being irritating these past few days—" "Tatum Ann Starkey you will not speak to your mom like that, ever!" Drew abruptly interrupts her, throwing his fist on the table, causing everyone to jump. He gestures for her to "go up to your room now," and Tatum gives him a terrified face.

The corners of your eyes well up with tears. Leo comes running to you and gives you utter comfort. You are wondering why Tatum has suddenly started acting this way.

Leo hugs you close to him and says in your ear, "You are the best mom ever, mom. You did nothing wrong."

"Thank you baby."

"Leo, while I comfort your mother, could you please return the little condiments to their proper places? "Thank you, buddy," Drew says to Leo, who nods and follows instructions.

"Are you okay baby?" Drew asks, crouching down and placing both hands on your knees, looking at you with concern. 

"I'm fine, just confused as to why she's acting this way towards me," you say gently, sniffling.

Drew and you begin discussing what has just occurred. Drew was not pleased with Tatum's actions toward you, her mother. You do so lot for this family, and Tatum does not need to vent her frustration on you.

Drew soothed you in every manner conceivable, making you feel more at peace about yourself—he's the best thing that has ever happened to you. The sound of his words made you relax, and tears streamed down your cheeks.

"I'm gonna have a talk with her upstairs," he pauses, "I love you."

You give him a soft smile, pulling the front strained away from your face—leaning forward in your chair, thinking what just happened. So many thoughts running through your head.

Drew knocked on Tatum's bedroom door, and you knew he was going to give her a big lecture on how to communicate with your parents. You've discussed this with both of your children numerous times.

Leo walks into the living room with a bowl of ice cream for himself and you—he's always been a momma's boy. Leo brings you the bowl and takes a seat next to you on the couch. "Thank you, Leo," you say, throwing your free arm around him and drawing him into a side embrace. 

"Of course mom, I love you."

After five minutes, Tatum and Drew come downstairs. Drew muttered something to Tatum before elbowing her toward you. Leo moves from the couch to wherever Drew is in the home.

As she settles on the couch beside you, Tatum sighs—crisscross apple sauce. "Mom I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you at the dinner table," she says after a little pause. "I shouldn't spoken to you like that."

You take in Tatum's words, "I forgive you, Tatum. What you said to me really hurt," Tatum lets a tear fall from her cheek, "be cautious with your words, darling, I love you," taking her in for a loving, lengthy hug.

You and Tatum unwind in each other's arms while letting the tears flow. Tatum reiterated the same words to you: "I love you, mom, and I apologize." Regardless of how you argue, you will always adore your children.

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[imjustdreamingig]

Jesus, what's a girl to do?

Part 1

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Robin meddles, Steve is clueless, and you're freaking out. So a regular day.

A/N: i genuinely have no idea where this came from, i legit posted the first part like 2 years ago. but I guess I want to start actually writing more? idk! we shall see. anyways, this fic stems from my (occasional) exhaustion to shy!reader and i'm basing this more on how horrifically i acted around the guys i would like even tho i consider myself an extrovert. enjoy whatever this is??? and lmk if u want a part 3! also this is not proof read so bear w me

warnings: sfw, swearing, uhhh i think that's it???

You were screwed. Absolutely, terribly, fucking screwed.

You were also very angry at your mother, giving her a glare every time she glanced your way at the dinner table. She merely gave you a wink in return, not understanding the true implications of her actions.

"So, Steve," your mom began as she cut a bit of the chicken on her plate, "you play basketball, right? Is that something you want to keep doing in university?" This time, you openly stared at your mom, trying to telepathically convey that you would literally kill her if she kept talking. You haven't made up your mind if you're joking or not.

Steve cleared his throat, "Yeah, I do, I'd say I'm pretty good at it, too. Wherever I end up going, I'll probably join their team for fun." He turned to you after taking a bite of his meal, smirking. "You like basketball too, right?"

You choked on your water, wiping your mouth with your sleeve. You looked at Steve properly for practically the first time that night, but your voice never wavered. "No, not really, why?"

He turned back to his food, amusement gracing his voice. "Well, I see you and Robin sitting together at every game, even the away ones, so I just assumed." If your face could sport a visible blush, you knew it would be a bright red, hot, mess.

"Well, I- I get dragged by Robin because she doesn't like sitting alone or going to random schools by herself like, half an hour away. Do you even watch the news? Girls by themselves are basically the perfect bait for random kidnappings and stuff, especially girls in high school, like I mean the statistics for-"

"Y/N" You're rambling is halted by your mother's voice. Steve is looking at you in bemusement. You are contemplating death. The situation is not looking good.

"Could you grab me some water from the kitchen, with ice," your mother said with a strained smile, holding out her glass. You grab it and push your chair out. "Sure, yeah," you replied. As you made your way to the kitchen, your mind replays the last hour of the events that have transpired, wondering what you could've possibly done in your past life to deserve this.

How could your own mother, the woman who birthed you, ask the hottest guy in your grade if he wanted to stay for dinner and not consult you first, all whilst knowing you had the most ridiculous crush on the guy.

Betrayed by the ones closest to you. This is probably how Julius Caesar felt.

After overcoming your initial shock, and lets face it, mortification of being paired up with Steve for your English project, you attempted to the best of your abilities to push down your feelings and remain professional in order to actually work on the project and make sure you got an A. Your grades would not suffer over a stupid crush on a stupid boy, that's where you drew the line. Unfortunately, this plan was not working out so well.

It was actually failing, horrifically at that.

It had been about a month since the semester started and the project had been assigned—a complex analysis of a classic book of your choice and how that particular novel has inspired the creation of others and advanced its genre. You had to write a collaborative essay to hand in to your teacher, as well as create an interactive presentation for your classmates explaining your chosen novel.

This was all due at the end of the semester and you'd be given no in class time to work on it since you had an ample amount time to work on it outside of school. It would also replace the need for a final exam, which was great news. When your teacher had explained the project, you were ecstatic, knowing exactly what book you wanted to do: Pride and Prejudice.

Then, you remembered who you had to do the project with, this huge, daunting, complex, project, where you would need to interact with your partner in close proximity for an extended period of time. You felt faint.

Steve, in his defence, had tried to approach you on multiple occasions to try and figure out when you two should meet to try and start the project. But, obviously, whenever you saw so much as a glimpse of him in the hallway, you would make yourself scarce.

The only time he would actually be able to talk to you was in your shared English class. Robin was beginning to go crazy at your increasingly outlandish excuses as to why you couldn't meet up with Steve after school in order to work on your project.

"Oh sorry, my mom needs my help on some stuff tonight."

"I have to take my brother to soccer practice."

"I can't today, I have an eye doctor appointment."

"My dog actually needs to go to the vet, she's sick, sorry."

"My family and I are going on a road trip this weekend, so I'm not free."

"My sister broke her leg uh— skiing, and she needs help writing stuff for school."

"Funny story, Robin has a crazy ex thats trying to get her to meet up with him again, and I have to help her slash their tires and like, do girl stuff, it's personal, so I'm not free, maybe next week though?"

That last excuse is what caused Robin to snap. She knew that Steve knew that you were making shit up, Robin has never even been in a relationship, let alone have an ex. Also, you didn't even have a sister, what gives!

You also had no clue exactly how close the pair had gotten due to working together at the video store and that she'd told Steve she was into girls. Therefore, like the great best friend she was, Robin decided it was time she intervened, for everyones sake really, but mostly yours.

"God," you sighed, "I never thought I would be so into arms, like not the huge, bulging one, you know? All veiny and red, that just scares me, hello, his are just ones that are like slightly defined, but have a very obvious outline of muscle, like I can tell he's strong, and fuck, his biceps, is it bad that I want to like, bite them? Because every time I look and him and he's fixing his hair I just keep getting this urge to—wait where are you going? Robin? Ok, OK! I'll stop, I promise! Come back!"

If Robin had to hear another anecdote about how you wanted to bite his arms, she was going to puke.

Your continuous blabbering about how good Steve's hair looked or how good those jeans looked on him and your inability to have one proper conversation with him or stay in the same room as him for longer than two minutes was making her go insane. She couldn't take it anymore.

So, Robin devised a plan, which one day she was sure you would thank her for—hopefully.

First, she inconspicuously made sure that you had nothing planned for Thursday night, already knowing you were free but wanting to double check that no random stuff had come up.

Then, she called your mom, who absolutely adored Robin. She told her about your situation and how if she did nothing, your infatuation for Steve was literally going to give her an aneurysm. Robin would tell you that she wanted to hang out Thursday night so you would get ready, but instead of her showing up, it would be Steve.

Not surprisingly, your mom agreed to Robin's crazy plan. She thought it was about time you got a boyfriend. You had already talked about Steve so much to her anyways, but any time she would tell you to just try talking to the guy, you vehemently refused.

"Mom, are you insane, I'm not going to do that," you scoffed as if literally just having a conversation with another person was the most insane idea in the world.

"Mija, how else are you supposed to get to know people if you can't speak to them? Besides, you never seem to have a problem talking back to me whenever we have an argument," you mom shrugged as she continued folding the laundry you were helping her with.

"Oh come on," you sighed exasperatedly, "that's not the same thing and you know it."

"I'm just saying, by the looks of it, I don't think I'll be a grandmother."

"Mom, what, hello!?"

Getting Steve to show up at your house was easier than Robin thought. She conveniently told him right before the beginning of their shift on Thursday that you'd told Robin that they should all get together at your house to finally get started on the project. Robin smiled a bit wider than necessary when Steve enthusiastic agreed to go.

When Robin gave Steve your address and told him that she would be over a little later because she left some stuff at her house, that no, she didn't need a ride and that no, she was fine walking, Steve was none the wiser to her actual plan.

As Robin saw Steve pull out of her driveway and making his way to your house, she gave herself a mental pat on the back and started thinking about what movie she should watch after dinner, knowing that the school day tomorrow would be very entertaining.

When Steve rang your doorbell, he was still clueless about the real intentions of Robin's plan, but when you opened the door and he saw your eyes go wide and your mouth drop slightly open, almost as if you weren't expecting to see him, something clicked in his head.

This was going to be fun.

[lennadanvers]

The Heartbreak Chronicles

Eddie Munson x Reader

Edward The Freak Munson was your first love.

(He preferred to be called Eddie).

(That’s why you called him Edward. It was his father’s name, too).

He was also your first heartbreak. And the worst one yet.

It started in Hawkins. All the bad things in your life had started there. You couldn’t have been more than five years old, and Edward was almost adorable back then. He was fun, had an amazing imagination, and loved playing with you. You loved him, too.

You slew dragons and fought in the name of Queen Buttons- your stuffed hippo- for years, so when his first actual battle came, you expected to be by his side.

He didn’t, apparently. His mom was gone and his father abandoned him. Eddie ended up living with his uncle in a place that held little resemblance to a castle.

Of course, he didn’t tell you any of that. Instead, he described the infinite garden he had in his new home; how it was full of adventures and characters out of a tale. He told you about the dangers he faced- the monsters in the hallway, the darkness wanting to take him, the fae that stole his lunch. He explained that the way to his abode was long and full of traps and risks. He didn’t want you to venture into such a dangerous path.

So you didn’t. With Eddie, imagination and reality were always too close to see the difference. Besides, he was just as energetic as always. He even gained some weight; it was easy to tell.

There were other changes, though. Ones that happened slowly. Seamlessly. His favorite color went from red to black. He said once it reminded him of his mom, and proceeded to ask what colors you liked best in the same breath. His childlike interest for shiny things evolved into a collection of chains. They started appearing clasped onto every pair of jeans he owned. His laugh was louder every time you said something even remotely funny.

And his eyes were weaker and weaker.

They used to have a wild spark. Two dark bonfires, the promise of well-intentioned mischief. But his laugh was a gush of wind, and every time he opened his mouth it was like blowing at the agonizing embers.

It was a dark spell, a silent curse that poisoned him- or so you thought. He bailed on you one time, and you forgave him instantly. Who woulnd’t? He said he was sorry. And did it again a couple weeks later. Nothing to worry about. He hadn’t bailed in literal years; you could cut him some slack. Until there weren’t any more sleepovers or playdates, no more walks to find treasures by the forest or cheap ice cream listening to his stories.

Then came the summer break, and Edward disappeared. Not really, of course. You saw him once with his uncle at the grocery store. Once. He was alive and healthy, as far as you could tell. Then where had he been? Why hadn’t he been with you, as usual? You didn’t even remember summers without him.

The last day of vacation, you found a silly little dragon ring. It was most definitely made out of plastic, but it was gold and has two fake diamonds as eyes. With a little bit of imagination, it could pass as a dragon rider’s ring. It was meant for Edward, of course. Who, if not him, would wear it with pride?

But he never wore it. Not even to try it on when you gave it to him.

It was the first day of school, and, after years of friendship, the first day you sat alone in class. Which was stupid because he also sat alone. His hair was gone, and his eyes looked even bigger. It just made it worse when he smiled and nodded as a thank you, because there was no light in them. The fire had gone out, at last.

You had tried, alright. Over and over. But if the princess didn’t let his hair fall, then there was no way for you to climb the tower and save him.

You made friends with other people, life went by. It never stopped for things like this.

That was the first time Edward Munson broke your heart. At least, that time he had the decency to do it slowly, carefully. A death by natural causes. He didn’t have the same consideration the next time.

A/N: new series!! A little old, actually, but new for you guys! Hopefully it's at least entertaining. Chapters will be short but bitter, just the way I like my writing ;)) If you want me to, I can make a taglist (I have one for Pure Imagination, but I don't know if anyone will be interested in being tagged for this one), just comment or send an ask and I'll add you. Have a nice week! ♥️

[amyispxnk]

I'd run away and hide with you

Summary - Ellie joins you and Joel on your trek to Jackson. Along the way, your mind gets the better of you, and when you reach Jackson it all comes crashing down.

A/N: i don't have any excuses for why this took so long and im so so sorry guys 😭 2024 was hectic and ive only recently been able to catch up on stuff pls forgive mee

Pairing: platonic/father figure!Joel Miller x f!reader (could probably be read as GN tho?)

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, violence, guns, language, PTSD, abuse mentions, panic attack/mental breakdown

Previous Chapter || Series Masterlist

DO NOT COPY THIS FIC IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.

You’re getting bad again; that much is visible to him now. But he doesn’t even know what’s wrong this time.

You never open up to him anymore. At the start, you’d tell him everything that was going on in that little head of yours. You’d let him hold you while you cried. You’d always talk to him.

Now you don’t talk and you practically smack yourself in the face whenever you cry, willing the tears away as you bite down on your lip.

It’s been a few months since you left Boston to visit the guys at Lincoln. It was a good trip. After that hiccup at the start, you had pretty much forgotten about your dad; he couldn’t even get to you in your sleep. You spent a lot of time hanging out with Frank whilst Bill and Joel ‘talked business’, and it was pretty fun seeing the little home they had built for themselves in the town - Frank even let you pocket some strawberries, and it was your first time trying them. Safe to say they were fucking amazing, and you told Joel all about it that night. He'd pretend to be annoyed at your incessant rambling but he liked to see you happy, distracted, somewhat.

When you came back, Marlene was bugging Joel about some new smuggling job in exchange for the car battery he’d been searching for and before you knew it, you were back on the road again to bring this kid - Ellie - to the fireflies.

She was a bright, bubbly kid. Constantly talking and telling you and Joel jokes from that damn pun book of hers.

Joel didn’t warm up to her nearly as quickly as you did, and you obviously knew why. You’d been staying with him for almost half a year now, and had gone through a lot of shit with him, so he’d told you about his past. About Sarah.

So you had a hunch that that was why he didn’t open up to Ellie easily. That was why he’d always just grunt at her whenever she asked a question, why he’d practically toss her food at her when she had to eat, why he would barely even acknowledge her.

You could always tell he never meant it though. He didn’t really hate her. He cared about her - that’s just how he was - and it scared him. He was a protector, a fighter, and, most importantly, a father. He basically took you under his wing and gave you all the paternal love you ached for before, and now he had Ellie to look out for too.

But as time went on, you started noticing things. He started laughing at her jokes, or engaging in conversations with her, even telling her about before. You then realised how much it actually pissed you off.

Seeing them getting along made you incredibly jealous. Joel was your protector, your carer, your da..

You shake your head. It still felt weird when you accidentally found yourself thinking of him like that, giving him that name in your head.

It had been a few months since you all left Boston, for good you hoped, you hated that place and all the unfortunate memories you left there, but now you were in the cold and unforgiving state of Wyoming.

Right now you were all huddled around a fire in a little alcove. Joel had some whiskey which he sipped on.. As he talked to Ellie. Fucking Ellie, who was joking around with him, asking him stupid questions about some sheep farm on the moon.

You weren’t paying attention, you didn’t care. You instead chose to stew in your own thoughts which were drifting back to before any of this. You stared into the fire as you remembered the times you were the one making Joel smile, the one he’d hold and comfort, the one he’d talk with at the end of a long day.

He didn’t do all of that with Ellie, but he didn’t do any of it with you anymore, either.

Suddenly, your thoughts go even further back, remembering your father. Remembering the constant screaming which definitely damaged your eardrums by the time you’d left, the incessant beatings you received - at least that taught you first-aid, right? - and the many, many nights spent crying yourself to sleep. You didn’t get to cry in front of your father, knowing he’d only hit you harder for being weak and useless, so you just waited until you were curled up on the little mattress on the floor, your dad already asleep from the alcohol.

You only come back to the present moment when you taste the metal of blood in your mouth. You didn’t remember biting down on your lip but apparently you had been so hard that it made you wince slightly when you pressed your fingers to it.

Joel didn’t notice. He was still talking with Ellie, his eyes soft as he looked at her over the flames.

Jealousy makes tears sting at your eyes. You’d thought finally, finally, you found someone who would actually care about you.

Now you watch bitterly as Ellie makes him laugh more than you’d done in a while, wondering what you did wrong.

-

You were clutching your handgun tight, not feeling safe out in the open like this despite not having encountered any dangers for a good week now. It felt like things were too safe, and you didn’t like it.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Ellie blowing air through her lips, and it actually kind of annoyed you, because what was she even doing?

Joel asked that question for you.

“What are you doing..?” He sighs heavily, glancing at her, to which she just smirks.

“I’m learning to whistle.” She replies simply.

“You don’t know how to whistle?”

“Does it look like I know how to whistle?” She huffs.

They go back and forth for a little longer, with Joel ending up defeated as Ellie continues her air-blowing, and you find your heart splintering at the sight of them bickering only like father and daughter would. It might not seem like much, but you’ve definitely noticed how Joel’s gotten closer with Ellie over the past few months. It’s upsetting, seeing his natural paternal instincts coming out with her too now.

The three of you make your way past a big dam and arrive at a river, at which point Ellie unhelpfully chirps up.

“Hey, guys, what if this is the river of death?” She jokes, not realising how poor her timing was, for you hear the heavy thuds of horse hooves almost as soon as she finishes her sentence.

“Hands up. Don’t make any sudden movements, or we shoot.” A gruff voice barks out. You know better than to go against what they’ve said, so you turn slowly with your arms raised, and wait for Joel to do any negotiating.

“We ain't lookin’ for any trouble, we’re just passin’ through.” Joel says, keeping his voice strong and unwavering.

“Drop the gun.” The man spits, and Joel slowly does as he says, his eyes wide with panic and betraying the collected and brave persona he attempts to put on when he realises that this might be it.

Ellie looks equally terrified, and you can’t blame her, especially when the man addresses her directly, telling her to step back and away from you.

“How ‘bout we just talk this through-” Joel starts.

“How about you shut the fuck up?” The man’s gun is now raised, and Joel knows better than to argue now, nodding.

The man asks about if any of you are infected, and you feel the dread setting into your bones. Joel tries to diffuse the situation and ease the man’s (unfortunately correct) suspicions, but it’s no use, as he whistles for the sniffer dog.

He offers you a bullet instead, the easy way out, and you all remain silent, panicking further as the dog sniffs you, then Joel, then makes its way to Ellie.

You don’t know where to look, you can see Joel starting to hyperventilate, you can see Ellie’s eyes shining with a terror you’ve never seen her showing before, and you just decide to not look anywhere. You squeeze your eyes shut before-

She’s giggling. Your brows furrow, eyes opening to see Ellie playing with the dog, her face getting licked, and she looks over at the two of you, giving you a sort of ‘how the fuck am I alive’ look, before petting the dog and smiling.

“You just bought yourself 10 more seconds. What’s your business here?” The man shouts, and Joel tells him that he’s looking for his brother, trying to keep things brief.

A lady rides forward, asking Joel for his name. He gives it, and she’s silent, looking around at the three of you and trying to piece things together, before telling you to come with her.

-

Maybe something’s wrong with me, you think, picking at your nails absentmindedly as you trail behind the group - Maria, Joel, Ellie, and Tommy on their little tour of Jackson.

No, something’s definitely wrong with me. Because why else would you be so jealous of them? Of Joel finally finding his brother - another person to drive him away from you - and finally growing closer to Ellie.

Not to mention the way you just fucking clam up any time he asks about it.

Not to mention the way you just let it all build up, suffering in silence, waiting and waiting for the inevitable moment where you break.

You all end up in the dining hall afterwards and, while you’re pissed about everything else, you can’t deny some good food. You almost moan at the taste of proper, seasoned meat after all these months, wolfing it down in similar speed to Ellie and Joel.

“There’s more if you need it.” Maria adds after a few moments of watching you all, no judgement in her tone despite your rough actions.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Joel says, looking up briefly before continuing to eat. “Been a while since we’ve had a proper meal.”

“Actually I don’t think I’ve ever had a proper meal,” Ellie chimes in, making you clench your jaw. God, even her voice pisses you off. Nobody asked her to talk. “This is amazing.” She mumbles, food in her mouth.

Joel glances at her for a second.

“Sorry.” He tells Tommy and Maria. “Ellie, let’s mind our manners.”

She doesn’t reply, looking up instead to see a girl watching her behind a pillar.

“What!” She barks, making the girl run away and making you scoff. She glances at you, frowning, before continuing to eat.

You knew she didn’t hate you - you were a good pretender most of the time. Laughing at her jokes, smiling tightly during conversations.. But lately you’d slipped a bit, and she was starting to notice.

“What’s wrong with you?” Joel mutters.

“What about her manners?” Ellie spits, always so defensive.

“She was just curious.” Maria soothes, “Kids around here don’t usually look or talk like you.”

“Right,” she says, nodding her head slowly, “well maybe I’ll teach them.”

It takes everything in you to not scream. She was annoying you so much. And she was getting all the attention because of her boisterous behaviour. You were sitting there, quietly, calmly, and no one batted an eye at you.

“And I want my gun back.” Ellie argues.

“They also aren’t armed.”

Tommy jumps in, sensing the tension growing even more.

“You know what, uh, I think y’all got off on the wrong foot.” He starts, but the two keep bickering.

Eventually, Tommy reveals that Maria is his wife, and after an eager congrats! from Ellie, and the most forced one possible from Joel, the meal ends.

-

Tommy quickly shows the three of you around the rest of Jackson - Maria chose to stay behind - before leaving you and Ellie in your temporary house, going to have a chat with Joel.

“Soooo.. That was awkward, huh?” She chuckles, trying to joke with you like you used to at the start of all this.

You nod, anger still bubbling up inside of you. You didn’t want to be angry at her, or Joel, even, and you knew if you talked with her for too long you’d just end up yelling at her, so you tried your hardest to keep calm.

She chews on her lip, nodding slowly before starting to ramble about how crazy this town is and how Joel is totally pissed at Tommy.

You keep nodding along, wondering how on Earth she manages to keep going on and on for way too long.

Eventually, she bids you goodbye, going to explore the town.

You wouldn’t want to hang out with yourself either, you think as she closes the door.

-

Joel came back home in the evening, pissed off. You tried saying hi to him, having decided you were done being annoyed at him, but he completely brushed you off before storming upstairs.

Maybe you weren’t making it up. Maybe he did just.. Start hating you.

Ellie’s been in her claimed room for an hour, and the house is quiet until about 10pm. You’re still on the couch, curled up, lost in your thoughts. About Joel, about Ellie, wondering about yourself, too. You were thinking about how nice this town is, how you didn’t want to leave tomorrow at all, but figured you’d definitely have to. You’d have to return to the wasteland outside these walls, and you’d probably never make it back to Jackson.

You’d had too many close calls already. God, or whatever was out there, had probably spared you enough.

Your thoughts spiralled and spiralled until it happened.

Everything came out.

It started with tears, silent as they streamed down your face, before the anger released itself, making you dig your nails into your skin in some final attempt at self-control, before you were storming upstairs.

You throw the door open to Joel’s room, and he blinks at you, having been in bed, probably trying to sleep while you soaked in your misery downstairs.

He’s such a fucking asshole, is all you can think.

“I’m not coming with you tomorrow.” You mutter, surprised you aren’t yelling already.

His brows furrow and he stands up, trying to approach you.

“What’re you talkin’ about?” He says, voice stern and rough.

“You clearly don’t want me around anyway! I’d just be making your life even harder if I came with you. I’ll.. I’ll just go my own way.” You huff, voice quivering towards the end when you realised you’d have to trek this world alone now.

He repeats his previous question and you bury your face in your hands, nails tightening against your fists as you try not to start screaming at him.

“When was the last time we had a proper conversation? Or you asked me how I was doing? Or you hugged me, or anything?! You couldn’t even be bothered to say hi to me earlier, and last night you and Ellie were being buddy-buddy by the fire while I was literally on the verge of tears. You clearly don’t care about me anymore. It’s just her.” You’re shouting now, rage consuming you as you get closer to him, shoving him backwards.

He grabs your arms roughly and you visibly flinch, eyes widening under your furrowed brows as you peer up at him. His face is blurry underneath your tears, and your mind short-circuits.

Your dad is back? Your mind tells you yes. Yes, and you’ve pissed him off now, he’s grabbing you because he’s about to throw you on the floor. You’re always doing something wrong - you should’ve known better than to argue. Only insolent, disgraceful children open their mouths in retaliation. You should respect your father. Now you have to apologise and pray he accepts it.

Immediately you’re cowering. He can’t even get a word out before you start apologising, body trembling as he loosens his grip on you.

“Please, sir, I- I’m so sorry- I didn’t- I didn’t mean to- to yell. I’m sorry, I’ll leave, just please d-don’t- please don’t h-urt me-” you choke out, voice raw.

His expression softens, brows knitted in concern now rather than frustration.

“Baby, come here-” he tries to say, but you’re shaking your head, inching further backward until you press against the wall, whimpering when you realise you’re trapped.

Now he’s going to hurt you. Your apologies mean nothing when he gets this mad.

Joel had only grabbed you. It was nothing like the abuse you used to face and yet it was still enough to make you completely crumble.

You sink to the floor, sobbing, still apologising. Ellie’s awake by now, her eyes wide as she listens to what she can make out. What the fuck did he do to you? She’s about to get up, to go and protect you. She doesn’t care if you’d been giving her the cold shoulder for the past few weeks, she doesn’t care if Joel seemed to be giving her the opposite at last. If you’re in trouble and it’s because of him she didn’t fucking care about anything else.

But then she pauses, just outside the door, hearing him cooing at you.

“Calm down honey. It’s okay, it’s me, Joel. Look at me, please.” He murmurs, crouched down in front of you but still giving you some space.

You had your arms raised in front of your face, legs tucked inward, trying to protect yourself from any potential blows, mind still loud and thoughts jumbled, but his voice suddenly helped to clear some of the fog.

You peered at him through the space between your arms and blinked the tears away as best you could.

“..Joel?” You croak after a moment, and he nods, a small smile blossoming on his lips.

“‘S me, sweet girl. Come here.” He opens his arms for you, and you shift closer, still timid and not making that final step.

He sighs softly, not disappointed or annoyed, just sad that your trauma managed to put you in this state.

“It’s just me, okay? It’s Joel, not.. not him. Look at my face, baby.” He whispers, and you do. Your dad wouldn’t call you baby or speak softly with you. Surely this man in front of you wasn’t him.

When you finally recognise him, you feel the tears blooming again, a small whimper escaping your throat before you’re crawling into his lap, clutching him tight. Still apologising, as always.

“Shh, it’s okay. What’s goin’ on, hm?” He says, voice gentle as ever as he holds you. He doesn’t squeeze you tight, or move in any way, he just lets you cling to him. He doesn’t want to suffocate you, knowing you probably already feel like you're drowning, barely tethered to him for support.

“Y-you don’t like me anymore.” You hiccup, and he shakes his head.

“No, sweetheart. Of course I like you. You’re my.. You’re my girl, yeah? Could never hate you.” He murmurs, brows furrowing. Why did you even think that?

“B-but you get on with Ellie way better now, and- and you don’t even talk to me anymore.”

He sighs softly. Ellie was.. A chatty kid. If she didn’t start all those conversations with him, he doubts he would’ve engaged with her nearly half as much as he did. He had grown to enjoy her ramblings, of course, but he was too stressed, anxious all the time on the road, to ever actually start the chats with her or you. He realises now how that would’ve looked to you, understands the emotional breakdown you’d just had, understands why you’d been so quiet recently.

You thought he didn’t want you anymore.

He gently pulls your head back, tilting it up so you could meet his eyes. His thumb catches a tear before it can fall and he starts explaining.

“Babygirl, I wasn’t not talkin’ to ya as much cuz I didn’t like ya. I was just stressed.. Too focused on gettin’ us across the country in one piece to worry about conversations. Ellie’s.. a bit of a chatterbox so of course I had to be respondin’ with her, but..” he trails off, guilt consuming him more and more as he tries to reason with himself. Yes he was nervous but that’s no excuse for the state his negligence has landed you in.

“Fuck, there ain’t no excuse, really. I just.. Please, please believe me right now. I’m tellin’ ya, I don’t hate you and I never ever could, okay?” He pleads, eyes searching yours for any sort of understanding or forgiveness.

He definitely doesn’t see hatred there like he’d seen when you first stormed up here, no, he just sees confusion, worry.

“You really don’t hate me? Even- even after I gave you so much attitude and I was shouting at you? Surely I deserve.. You shouldn’t be being nice to me…” You whisper, brows furrowing, confused at the fact someone was apologising to you. Normally you were the one apologising. He’d been the only person to ever show you compassion and understanding, and you thought, surely you’ve fucked it all up now.

He sighs again, shaking his head. “I could never ever hate you, honey. Never. No matter what you do or say to me, I can promise you hatred would never even cross my mind.”

You whimper again, nodding. “Okay.” Is all you can get past your lips, your body shaking with sobs again as he finally allows himself to hug you properly, rocking you back and forth and stroking your hair.

He isn’t surprised when you fall asleep like this, curled up in his arms. You’ve exhausted yourself in every way tonight, and you deserve a good, long rest.

He grunts softly as he stands up, still keeping you clutched in his arms as he makes his way to the bed and sets you down. He’ll take the couch, he figures. His back is fucked already.

But then you stir a little, blinking up at him as he watches you.

“Joel?”

“Hmm?”

“Can.. can you please stay tonight? I just.. I’m…” You can’t get the words out, but he understands. He knows what you need.

He gets in beside you, kissing your forehead after you cuddle up to him and drift off slowly, blanketed by his comforting presence, your mind a little less stormy with his reassurances now there instead.

Sleep evades him for much longer, though, distant memories of Sarah swirling within his mind. He wonders what she’d think of him, of you, of the way he’s taken you in like this. Would she be proud? Would she be angry? Would she feel like he’s replaced her?

He shakes his head, knowing that those thoughts would just cause him to distance himself from you again.

He finally manages to fall asleep at 2am, dreaming of Christmas trees and a little girl with curly hair.

Tysm for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

Tags - @tbeep @rosierogie @jjlevin @axshadows @pedropascalsbbg @pedroshotwifey @pedrosfanny @s0meoone

[lacehartz]

happy new years!! i’m so sorry cause i saw your post about how many asks you have, but i have to— new years kiss with dad!rafe?🙌

don’t you even worry nonnie i have 63 on my main 😭 hope u had a lovely new years !!! cw in tags.

whilst all your friends were out at the biggest party of the year, drinking ‘n having fun, you were stuck at home with rafe. you’d begged and pleaded with him to let you go, there was nothing wrong with wanting to let a little loose. but rafe wasn’t having it — not with how he knew how those parties got out of hand, and especially not with the kind of guys that’d be there. you’d been lucky to even convince him to let you stay up for the countdown.

“you really think ‘m stupid enough to let you out of my sight tonight?” he’d snapped earlier, forehead vein bulging and tone sharp enough to have you tearing up. you’d sulked off, sending off a message to the group chat about how you wouldn’t be able to make it after all.

hours later you’re in the living room, curled up in the corner of the couch, vaguely listening to the tv. you’re miserable. your phone hasn’t stopped buzzing with notifications from all your friends posting. you’d scroll through the stories and pictures, but the idea of that just makes your chest tighten with jealousy. instead, you toss the phone with a huff and burry your face in your knees.

rafe, who’s been sitting across from you, nursing a beer in his hands (because of course he wasn’t letting you drink either), notices and sighs. “still sulking?”you don’t answer, wrapping your arms around yourself as you sniffle. “what’d i say about that attitude, huh? already told you that y’don’t gotta go to any parties to have fun,” he places his beer on the coffee table, spreading his legs to get comfortable.

you frown and peek at him through your wet lashes. “doesn’t feel like fun,” you mumble. rafe rolls his eyes and pokes his cheek with his tongue. “up, c’mon. c’mere,” he replies gruffly, gesturing to his lap.

you hesitate, fiddling with your fingers. “i— i don’t know, dad..” rafe’s brows furrow as he takes you in, squinting at your disobedience. “that wasn’t a suggestion, baby. don’t make me get up.”

the warning in his tone sends shivers down your spine, and you slowly uncurl, glancing at him nervously. you don’t want him to yell at you again — not like he did earlier — so you slowly peel yourself off the couch and reluctantly shuffle over to him. “there’s m’girl,” he says smugly, tugging you down into his lap before you can protest again.

his arms loop around your waist, locking you in place as he adjusts you to straddle him, your knees sinking into the cushions either side his thighs. “did it t’protect you, sweetheart, ‘kay? i know you don’t like to think but dad does. and dad knows, uh, what happens to drunk little girls out in the middle of the night. what if someone had tried to take you, huh? tried t’take advantage of you. ‘m jus’ keepin’ you safe.”

you swallow hard when rafe squeezes your hips. he tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his darkened eyes. you hear the countdown begin over the tv as you wipe your cheeks, the sound echoing, “ten .. nine .. eight ..”

“gotta start the new year off right, yeah? gonna show you how t’really have fun,” he whispers, hands soft against your face. you squirm when his fingers brush your mouth.

“four .. three .. two .. one ...”

and right as the fireworks explode across the sky, rafe’s surging forward, meeting your lips with his in a bruising, aching kiss. it’s rough and possessive and wet, his tongue forcing its way past the seam of your lips in a way that has you whimpering. he tastes like alcohol and something earthy, completely and utterly overwhelming. rafe’s hands tighten on your waist, pulling you flush against his chest until there’s not a single inch left between your bodies.

this kiss is messy, desperate, his teeth nipping your flesh and clashing with your own. your head spins as he devours you, making you so dizzy that you forget what you were so upset about in the first place. when he finally detaches from your puffy, tingly lips, strings of saliva still connecting you, you can barely breath, panting and gasping as you twitch in his lap.

“happy new year, baby,” rafe smirks huskily, giving you exactly two seconds before he’s capturing your lips again. maybe he was right after all; you didn’t need any parties, you just needed your dad.

[ihatebrainstorm]

i never got very far into the comics because adhd is a harsh mistress, so i don't really know anything about brainstorm. what are your favorite things about him?

Aw man there's so many things I love about him, and I'll try to avoid spoilers but there is a certain in the story that really flipped the switch about how I thought of him kaksdf- Also this will get very long winded and incoherent very quickly bc uh I love this stupid asshole and he occupies 90% of my brain at all times: (i apologize in advance)

Surface level wise, I love his stupid arrogant humour and how seemingly absorbed with himself he is- I love how much of a ridiculous scheming little prick he can be gahgh, idk I think I just really like that character archetype?? At least going off of characters from other media I immediately get attached to lmao

He's just so sillyyyy and a menace and a prick and a stupid little annoying asshole but then he's actually really caring towards his friends and I want to shake him and rattle him and throw him out a windoww (He'll be fine, he can fly)

He's a trickster and he does science for the love of the game- Experiments with everything and everyone, builds whatever stupid idea just for the sake of building it, and idk I relate to that ig and I respect that

His stupid moldy egg colour scheme. (idk that's how I always see it) idk why,, I just like it. but also I don't like it. but also I do... but also I hate drawing with that colour scheme

HIS WINGSSS HIS STUPID WINGS AND HIS HEAD THAT ARE ALL PISS ANNOYING TO DRAW BUT I LOOK AT IT AND GO "yeeehaheehe he's so annoying i hate him i love him wow i love airplanes" I love airplanes so much, I love how he has a jetpack that he barely ever uses, and an airplane altmode that he also barely ever uses, and I love that he can fly, I love flying characters, I love flying animation, I just love anything that can fly, I like flight and flying

That stupid silly prick little annoying scrunkled lovable punchable face he always does:

like don't you see that and want to sock him directly in the face <33

Nerd. i like nerd characters. and he is quintessential nerd. loud mouth babbleton yapper info dumper extraordinaire and I wouldn't have it any other way

HE'S SO GIGGLY AND ADORABLE SOMETIMES. AND ANNOYING. AND A PRICK. AND GRGHRGHRHHHH WHY IS HE LIKE THAT I WANT HIM TO SHUT UP AND NOT SHUT UP.

His friendship with Nautica and Percy <33333 Their little science trio is so adorable and fun and the stupid silly science antics potential is through the roofff- Like look at Nautica and BS aghgghgh they're so adorablee <333

Simpatico. i. idk why but something about that ship makes me so damn happy- like somethign about Brainstorm being so goofy silly, constantly trying to prove his worth in contrast to Percy's super analytical no nonsense attitude, eventually drifting towards Percy mutually respecting the silly fella makes me so happyy.... It's a really funny dynamic to me, and there's that point in the story where I feel like you can see Percy start to really admire BS.. it really flipped a switch for me- Also that final simpatico panel in the last LL issue makes me so happy bc they both look so happy and I love seeing happy characters :D

Edit: Forgot to mention, but also something about post-war Percy finally returning to science work, after years of being a sniper? To me at least, it felt like Percy was relearning his love for science outside of his duties, and Brainstorm's little arc + Nautica's arrival helped him gain new equals to work alongside with- They bring a bit competitiveness and discovery to science that helps reinvigorate Percy's intrinsic love and interest after years of strict duty

Brainstorm's angstt.. his internal conflicts, lack of self-worth, being so absorbed with his work that it ends up harming him, and the way he cares about people he's close to which eventually all leads to his arc all are stuff I really relate to heavily so i chomp it down with salt and pepper

His weirdness,, like he's sorta funky weird and I appreciate that a lot, because it all makes sense or no sense to him and him alone, and yea that makes my brain happy :)

His own little hyperfixations/general fixations like researching time travel, the dead universe, sparkeater stuff, multiverse stuff etc. etc. (like who else goes: oh huh this creature almost killed me, lemme go make a gun that makes more of those things :D) he just like me fr fr

His deceptiveness, sneakiness, and doing shady things under the table (I can't get too into it bc it's pretty heavy spoiler stuff so yea) Also his weird moodiness sometimes

His friendship with Chromedome,, they seem to care a lot about each other, but are also in the midst of drifting apart??? Old acquaintances/ coworkers/ friends who've been working together for ages and know deeply about one another, including the crappy things they've done in the past, but are now kinda distant? Yet they have a certain flavour of sad care to their dynamic which feels real and melancholic,, also the way you can kinda feel how his experiences with Chromedome's past sorta influences how he sees Nautica's decisions later in the story gghhgughhh

This bozo idiot getting partially Mike Wazowski'd on the cover of MTMTE #28

His MTO backstory and theorizing about how he ended up doing science??? How'd he get there? Why is he so adverse to calling himself an MTO? What was the Operation he was born into about???

His strange spookiness- like he isn't scary per-say but sometimes he's just kind of a spooky menace creature and I love that :) It's like adding layers of mystery to his erratic goofy outer-personality and it's really intriguing (kinda like cuddling with a cat then watching it stare you down from the dark corner of a room an hour later)

In conclusion: I want to kick him into the stratosphere out of spite and love <3 thank you for coming to my incoherent, likely uninformative Ted Talk :)

[not-poignant]

Stupid question, but I remembered seeing you mention having monthly minimum wordcounts on one of your previous posts and I wanted to ask if you're a professional writer? Because at first I was like "that sounds so stressful"* and then I realized that it makes a lot more sense if you're doing it for a living.

*Also acknowledging that people are different from each other and what is stressful for one person might be productive and useful for another.

I am a professional writer!

My original serials are my job, basically, and they're supported by generous folks at Patreon and Ream. That, in turn, allows me to do this in a more professional and focused way, vs. say just as a hobbyist who doesn't update for 9 months at a time. It also lets me share my works for free, in a fandom friendly manner, which lets me keep doing something I love in a way I love to do it, but in a way which is like...I guess more reliable than you'd necessarily be if you were only doing it for fun.

I can instead pledge high fidelity/loyalty to my main serials through thick and thin (hence my wild author's notes), which means folks following WIPs get to know they'll be finished, and I get to enjoy doing this for a living! It's hard, but it's a good hard. Except for taxes.

As for my monthly minimum, that actually started as a way to break out of the very ableist 'you should write every day' (as a professional writer) which is literally impossible for me and my chronic illnesses. I sometimes have big chunks of time where I can't write, sometimes weeks! And where it would be unhealthy for me to make myself.

(More about my writing process beneath the Read More!)

Alongside that, I have quite severe dyscalculia (think dyslexia but with numbers and directions and left and right lol) so I can't keep a 'running wordcount' because the numbers confuse me too much. Luckily, because my writing life is defined by chapters completed (and not novels), I count the wordcount of every finished chapter only. Unfinished chapters don't count! My growing wordcount per month grows only when that draft is finished (my drafts are clean, so chapters only tend to grow or shrink by about 100-150 words per edit, so give or take it all evens out).

It's not how any other author I know does it, but it works so well for me that I've been doing it for nearly a decade now.

I started the monthly minimum (which currently is 25k words per month) because I tend towards being a workaholic, and so my therapist and I established a minimum not as an unreachable goal that's hard to meet, but as an easy goal that's generally effortless for me to reach in good months, and average months, and even many bad ones. After I hit 25k words per month, if I crash, feel burnt out, feel awful, or life gets Life-y in a bad way, I have permission to stop writing. I can just stop. Everything else is gravy. (Though secretly I always want to hit 30-35k but shhh).

When I hit 50k words, I also have to stop immediately and take a mandatory 3-5 day break from writing even if I want to keep writing. Because I don't know it yet, but I'm probably exhausted on at least some level, lol.

I didn't hit 50k at all last year and there is at least one therapist who would be really proud of me about that even though I feel kind of guilty about it, lol.

Here's an example of my tracking:

You can see the chapters I've written, which dates I've written them. They're colour coded, so I can see at a glance if I'm writing enough of a story or not. And then on the far right is an addition of every month's wordcount.

April was so low because I took an intentional writing holiday (which I'll be doing again ideally in March this year). December was so low because December sucks.

And then I erase it all at the end of the year and start again. The blank whiteboard is actually very motivating to write that first chapter because I always feel like I haven't done anything until then.

This whiteboard is two feet away from where I write quite literally, and is never moved etc. so I have a yearly tracker basically that's extremely visible (super helpful to my ADHD brain, because if I put this in a spreadsheet I'll stop updating it after 3 weeks and then forget it exists). The colour coding gives me dopamine, so does adding chapters.

Also acknowledging that people are different from each other and what is stressful for one person might be productive and useful for another.

This is true! This is actually the least stressful way of doing things for me.

That being said, anon, it's still super stressful. Being a serial writer is one of the most stressful things you do, because you have constant and never-ending deadlines for years. Novelists can kind of escape this, in a way, because they can't release novels as often as I release chapters. But I have to be mentally switched on at least 8 times a month, re: putting work out there, making sure it's at least semi-polished, making sure I let everyone know, and tracking responses because obviously, unlike a novel, if you lose interest you can't just "skip ahead" you simply lose your readers. A lot of novelists couldn't live or work this way, a) because they couldn't write a hooky serial and b) because many realise that having to update all the time is really exhausting actually. There's a kind of social labour to updating a serial, and getting it Right every single time. One of my greatest fears that I have nightmares about

Serial writing is the most stressful kind of writing I've ever done (and I've done a few different kinds), I just happen to like the adrenaline rush of this kind of writing, and I happen to work well under a controlled level of stress! I know that, because I've been doing this for over 10 years, refining it, figuring out how to make it healthier (it was really unhealthy at first), getting better at it, figuring out my weak points (some of them are still weak points) etc. I actually think I'm pretty good at it now!

I'm also getting better at not thinking my entire career is over if I take 2 weeks off.

I went from being entirely dependent on a Disability Pension, and like, sometimes having to skip meals and doctor's appointments and even medication due to money issues (the Disability Pension is ironically not enough if you have mental health issues because our subsidised healthcare doesn't cover mental health adequately and Australia has no food stamps system), to being able to live a bit more freely and support my chronic health stuff a bit more because of writing this way!

For the first time ever through these stories I was able to afford a psychiatrist, and a few other things I really desperately have needed since I was a teenager. So being able to write like this, even when it's really hard and I'm really tired, feels still like a miracle to me. I've never been well or healthy enough to work a full-time job with typical 9-5 hours, and always kind of was stuck imagining a life where I'm just...never knowing how to afford certain things, to being in a position where I'm fairly confident I can get my meds every month, or pay for my dog's pet food, etc. It's really nice.

But yeah honestly serial writing is the most stressful form of serial writing there is as soon as you lock it in as a professional job where you must meet nearly 10 deadlines every month and you happen to have pretty intense ADHD so deadlines make you scream a little.

Sometimes what is extremely stressful and sometimes even distressing for someone is also extremely productive and rewarding for them too. We probably wouldn't have a lot of emergency surgeons if that were the bar for how we decide what we do!

[iamnmbr3]

Let me start by saying that I adore your meta. It's some of the most thorough, well-reasoned hp analysis I've come across & you have a talent for tenderly mining and polishing canon connections I've never considered. You've put into words so many of my feelings about drarry, hinny, and the characters as a whole -- why I love them, why I struggle with them, and why they still compel me after all these years. I'm slowly chipping away at your blog and won't stop until I get to page 1 I've found myself very taken with the Slytherins lately--especially characters like Millicent and Daphne, who are either offhand names or caricatures, as well as some of the older Slytherins we see mentioned, who seem to stay largely out of the war (or at least aren't important enough to it for a mention). There are a lot of widely accepted fanon personalities/interpersonal dynamics for the Slytherins, and they're always fun to delve into. But I often find myself struggling to separate canon from fanon. Do you have any thoughts on what we can extrapolate about the Slytherins in canon (apart from "mean, ugly, & stupid/vapid" as jkr describes nearly every Slytherin but Draco)? And if not, do you have any blogs/posts to recommend on the topic?

Wow. What can I even say. I've been staring at this ask since I received it feeling so warmed by your words. Thank you very much for such high compliments. It always thrills me to hear that people get some enjoyment/mental stimulation out of this blog and that my little ramblings are of interest to others.

To some extent, since the other Slytherins aren't that well developed (due to the fact that Harry was too busy constantly staring at Draco to notice anything about them - I mean he literally doesn't even know Theodore Nott's NAME till he sees him spending more time with Draco) there's a lot of room for people to come up with their own interpretations of their personalities.

That said, there is some info in canon we can go off of. For example, we see Pansy hanging out with Draco a lot more than Millicent or Daphne. We also know that none of their parents were Death Eaters. And given that Millicent and Daphne seem to stay away from Draco more later, maybe their families aren't quite as into the whole blood purist stuff as Pansy and her family are. Especially Daphne does not seem to really participate in any of the bullying we see a lot of the Slytherins take part in.

Personally, I always headcannoned that Daphne never liked Draco very much and that while she did hold some anti-muggle and anti-muggleborn biases (similar to those held by most of the wizarding world), her attitudes were more on the level of those held by Fudge or Crouch and she never actually went in for any of the extremist blood purist beliefs or supported the Death Eaters or even had attitudes as extreme as Walburga Black (who thought the Death Eaters mostly had the right idea even if they went about it the wrong way). I also think she didn't much like the pettier behaviors Draco engaged in - the boasting, the bullying, the mockery, not to mention the weird Potter obsession - (or that the people Draco hung out with engaged in). I think she probably found him stuck up and arrogant and vaguely unsavory and tended to avoid him, even if she wasn't as horrified or enraged by him using slurs like Mudblood as someone like Ron or Harry would be.

I like the idea that after the war she and her sister changed their minds about their beliefs about muggles and muggleborns - even if they were never quite as extreme to begin with as those held by some. I headcanon that they two of them were both back at Hogwarts during Draco's 8th year - and that they actually ended up striking up a friendship - once the realized that he'd changed. After all, they were housemates for years. Plus they ran in similar social circles. And they all changed their minds, so that's a common bond. Daphne tells Draco point blank that she always thought he was a stuck up twat and Draco agrees that he was, which breaks the ice.

As for Pansy, I actually think she was more of a hanger on than a true friend. I thinks he and Draco drifted apart in 7th year. I don't especially like characterizations that whitewash the bad things she did - either the bullying or the bigotry or the "rying to hand harry in to Voldemort thing - or that turn her into some ooc mary sue girlboss with no personality other than being a genius who is great at everything and also getting to be mean with no consequences because she's so cool so no one cares I guess. That's not to say I don't enjoy fics with Draco/Pansy friendship if it's done right. But yeah, based on actual canon I see her moving on to the next person once Draco's fortunes were shown to have irrevocably fallen by book 7. Plus it's arguable that she always expected to marry Draco since he was the best match (thru book 6 anyway) but that she always secretly harbored feelings for Blaise. And after the war she got to act on that. After all, in the train scene in book 6 she seems awfully interested in what girls Blaise likes.

For Millicent we have even less. We know she was a bully. I don't like seeing that ignored or seeing her girlbossified. I do like the idea of her going thru her own little redemption arc and trying to make something of herself. I also imagine that she and Draco kind of drifted apart though. I think she ever became a completely nice person, but I like the idea of her apologizing to Hermione and them ending up at the Ministry together and kind of tolerating each other - just one of the many instances of strange, uncomfortable relationships that pop up in the post-war wizarding society as it tries to put itself together.

As for Crabbe & Goyle, I really hate how often fandom seems to forget or gloss over the fact that both of them were actively participating in torturing other students and seemingly very into it. I think the way Draco treated them - as henchmen/servants - always grated on them but they accepted it due to the relative statuses of their families. When the power dynamic between them shifts though, starting book 6 but really post book 6, they seem to revel in Draco's degradation and fall from grace (and we even see hints of that earlier, like them laughing when Draco gets beaten up by Harry in book 5 and not intervening). I find that super fascinating, and I think they are darker, more twisted characters than people tend to give them credit for. Given all this, I don't see Draco and Goyle staying friends post war and I never get why Goyle having been an enthusiastic participant in the Death Eaters' crimes (in a way that Draco never was) so often gets forgotten. Usually post war he gets reduced to a simple minded sad boi who Draco needs to look after. And I'm just like ??? Where?? Especially given that the alternative provides so much more interesting story fodder.

[retquits]

our theater for sonic 3 was exclusively children except for me and my brothers and, inexplicably, one solo 70ish year old man. i couldn't stop thinking about him so i drew him with shadow the hedgehog. i hope he liked the movie

[hsslilly-blog]

blair portrait! i've done one for claribel, so they should get one as well. this is junior year blair!

this has been done for a while but i had been putting off fixing what was bothering me. so i did that and edited it as an yearbook. i think it's really fun to imagine blair doing american high school things since they're not american, so all of this is new for them. they're figuring everything out as they go. yearbook? aye. cheer team? sure. homecoming? i don't know what that is but yeah pal it's coming home <- not a fan of those guys though, julian.

[nullians]

It’s actually insane how fandom in general has become so scared of making weird and dark and ugly works. Like I look at myself and see how I have also subconsciously adapted this instinct to self censor and make things “marketable” and it’s making me want to crawl out of my skin. I need to get weirder and worse and more off-putting hello

[spotaus]

Thinking about Orchid and her connection to my take on Gender (because this was meant to be about her and the Crew but it just devolved into a character analysis kinda??? More trauma-dumping maybe???) This is very much an oc/personal rant so feel free to ignore it 🫡

So, Orchid started off as a character I didn't really think much of (hear me out this is going to be relevant) because I wanted to add a 'girl' character but didn't know what to *do* with her, y'know? She was always going to be the strongest one there, she had the odds stacked in her favor with her parents. She was always going to be the gloomy side-character to match Reset's energy. But I think she's gone through every stage of Generic Woman I could possibly find.

At first she was angry and abrasive (think Fell!Sans) where every other word was a curse and she was likely to throw the first punch then laugh as she kicks her enemy while they're down. This was when Reset was a cartoonishly self-centered villain whose goal was simply to prove others wrong. Then Orchid became a sort of sisterly figure. This was short-lived, but she was the one comforting people who Reset would torment, but would ultimately follow his orders, because at this point he was actually a danger and sadistic. And then there was the phase where the story mellowed out and she became the token Goth Girl who, yes she was strong, but was heavy on the 'whatever' energy. Then there was her Era of deep self-loathing and anxiety about her worth that held her back and made her a much more timid and meek character who would only lash out on occasion.

Now, Orchid is the best of those iterations I've written yet. She's calm, level-headed, and a natural leader. Her father raised those traits into her. But she's very reactive, and can be silly, and when she's comfortable it's likely that air of importance transforms into something more comfortable and familiar. She laughs loudly and grins wide, she likes loud video-games but loves to read in the quiet. She's extremely disciplined, and normally no one can get through her tough exterior besides her best friend, Reset. She does what she does for her own enjoyment, sure, but she's thought of every angle and makes her choice to help Reset and control the others with her whole chest. She still worries she won't live up to her invisible expectations, and that and her loyalty are her two driving forces.

I know that Orchid is important to me because she's the longest-running female oc I've had. I have a rough relationship with womanhood/girlhood and I know looking back that Orchid recieved every ounce of my distaste for being a woman that I could shovel into her. That never made her less of a character, she was actually always one of my favorites, and rarely was she a 'punching bag oc'. I just... projected onto her a lot. And she's a good sign of how I've learned who I am. I've decided that my own femininity is something I could live without. I'd rather not associate myself with it, and I'd like to leave it in my past, focusing on a future where I'm not tied down with any gender roles or expectations. That won't happen, but I've come to terms with it myself. Orchid though? I figured out through her that I don't have to hate women characters. My own distaste for my circumstances doesn't mean I have to push it onto my characters (on God I've never expressed anything rude to actual people, that'd be rude as hell and uncalled for, but I have a bad habit of disliking fictional women in media). So, Orchid is a well-roubded character finally. She has motivations abd goals and a *lot* more depth than I ever expected her to. She's happy with being a woman, she's content. She's not treated differently for it in unfair ways by those she cares about, so she doesn't mind it. She likes to wear pretty outfits and lets Reset add bows to her ribbons. She doesn't let being a woman hold her back in the slightest.

So, yeah. Orchid is one of my babies. If I ever leave this Fandom behind for good, she's one that's coming with (Ichor, Orchid, and Pretender all have human designs I can use elsewhere lol-) but in the meantime I'll just rotate her around in my brain for a while longer.

If I'm right, she's been with me for nearly 5-6 years and I went through a *lot* with her as an outlet. So, she's kinda just like an old stuffed animal. A lil ripped, matted fur, maybe a stain or two, but there's a story there and that makes it important beyond belief.

[weirfq1]

with all these gaston crackships/rarepairs that are coming out lately it would be so fucking funny if he had a flig with all the main characters (ambar, nina, simon... hell luna too if you want) and they all know it except matteo

[pardonmydelays]

i also think it's kinda cool how tyler makes me want to learn stuff

[heartshattering]

5 AM

Just me and my overactive mind facing the nighttime again 🙃