#wip title game!

[skywalking-through-life]

for the wip title game - Whale pregnancy wip lololol 👀

Lmaoooo, I was really hoping someone was going to ask about this, because it sounds bonkers, but it's actually just a half-formed, fluffy little idea about Annabeth's first pregnancy, whenever that is. Percy and Annabeth have talked about having kids multiple times in the books, and I think that's an adorable topic to explore, so at some point I'll probably write it! But this very basic outline of a scene is all I have so far 😂:

"Gods, I look like a whale."

"What kind of whale?"

She gives him a sharp look, but no reply. He grins.

"Mmm… I'm gonna say narwhal. Definitely a narwhal."

"Percy. You are supposed to be telling me that I am beautiful and perfect, not feeding into my delusions!"

"Wow, you don't think narwhals are beautiful? I'm hurt on their behalf."

She gives him a sharper look, and again, no reply. He grins wider.

"See? Narwhal! Adorable, squishy, and absolutely capable of stabbing me if I don't shut up."

A satisfied nod. "And don't you forget it."

Annabeth looks pensive, Percy comes over and kneels in front of her, rubs her belly.

"Why does it bother you so much? You've got a whole new life in there, of course it's gonna need space to grow." He pauses and presses a kiss to her belly. "And, for the record, I DO think you're beautiful and perfect."

"Well, if you think it's all so wonderful, YOU can carry the next one."

He gives her an impish grin. "I'm not a seahorse, babe. But you know I would if I could."

I hope you enjoyed it, my friend! 😂💙 I really would like to write it someday!

[flekh]

wow she is the woman ever

[dadvans]

Short Term Solutions for the wip game! 💕💕💕

for the WIP title meme!

tbh can't remember what i've posted from this one before--

Tommy feels like he’s walking onto another scene when he shows up at Evan’s apartment. There’s smoke, albeit thinning through every open window, and Evan is standing on the table waving a sheet pan at the detector high overhead on the ceiling. “Hey.” Evan doesn’t look down at him. Tommy sees a smothered pot on the stove’s back burner, hallmark of a grease fire. “How do you feel about pizza?” “I love pizza,” he offers, like there’s a monster out there that somehow doesn’t. He tries to hide the worry in his voice and makes his way around the kitchen island to the stove so he can help dispose of the smoldering remains of dinner. “I’ll call Dominoes as soon as I’m not afraid of this alarm going off again,” Evan says. “Don’t worry about it.” Fuck Dominoes. Evan’s clearly had a long day, and Tommy is hungry but he’s not that hungry. They’re doing the overpriced hole-in-the-wall down the street where Ryan Gosling was apparently caught by paparazzi last week. He’s fine paying. “I can call.” Evan gives in without a fight, so he must really be at his limit. “Thanks.” It’s tough to see him like this. His usual spark has been dimming more and more the past month since Gerrard resumed control of the 118, and even on the really bad days, he seems reluctant to talk about it. The first time they did, Tommy tried to pass along wisdom from what he remembered of Gerrard: keep your head down, don’t go out of your way to do anything you weren’t asked to do (especially on a call), stay in your lane, and document every goddamn thing as best as you can the second it happens. But these days Tommy can see it in the dismissive way that Evan will crack open a beer on the countertop and say, “Nothing, nothing, you know, asked me if i moved out here ‘cause California is the land of fruits and nuts again,” that there is something worse and more complicated going on under the surface, something Evan refuses to let him help carry the weight on for a variety of reasons. It sucks. Tommy wants to help, and watching Evan struggle and buckle under whatever is going down at the 118 without him is starting to scare him. Something’s gotta give, and Tommy knows it inevitably will. The best thing he knows he can do until further notice is focus on short term solutions. He can take care of a smoking pan while Evan stands helplessly on his kitchen table. He can order a large Hellraiser, extra meat. He can get Evan so far outside of his head he’s boneless and thoughtless and can temporarily forget. “Delivery ETA is sixty minutes,” Tommy announces as he gets off the phone. “Shit, I’m sorry,” Evan says, gingerly getting off the table and setting the pan down. “I told you I’d have dinner ready, you’re probably starving. I can probably throw a salad together—“ “Don’t worry about it,” Tommy says, and that’s when he notices one of Evan’s hands is loosely wrapped. “Are you okay?” Evan seems to have forgotten about it, and looks down at his own palm when he sees Tommy staring. “What? Oh, yeah, got distracted, burned it. Then totally forgot I left the heat on high when I went to take care of it, and“—he waves his good hand vaguely around at the thinning smoke, a half-laugh catching in his throat clearly directed at himself—“yeah. Just can’t seem to stay out of my own way today.” There’s something unsaid there, some kind of weakness Evan doesn’t seem willing to part with, and it breaks Tommy’s heart. He maneuvers his way over to Evan’s side, taking him by the wrist to gently kiss over the burn. “Well, we have an hour.” He sighs. “Tell you what. Let me take care of you, get you out of your head for a bit. Then, after dinner, can we talk about it?” Evan stares up at him, eyes so big. Some invisible weight seems to slough off his shoulders at the suggestion alone, and he nods. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

[graegrape-art]

an rpgmaker video game about a very normal 50s/60s suburban family that is not haunted by a supernatural creature whatsoever :)c

[rcmclachlan]

eddie invites buck to the karaoke trivia thingy

@devirnis @stars-inthe-sky @newtkelly

So, it's basically going to be this.

As soon as Tommy's out of earshot, Eddie rounds on him with the kind of speed usually associated with grade 4 whiplash, or a lunging snake. Buck nearly falls off his stool trying to avoid the splash of the shitty PBR that Eddie practically hurls at him. "What the hell is wrong with you," Eddie hisses. "How did you fuck up the dog teeth question? You told me how many teeth dogs have literally yesterday." Buck curls his shoulders inward to try and make himself into a smaller target. His football coach used to tell him to do that—"You're the fastest person on this field, Buckley. If you can fold your gangly ass into a ball and throw yourself at the other team, you'll be a human bullet!"—and then heave a long-suffering sigh whenever Buck made the attempt. "Buckley, just stand up straight, it hurts me to look at you. You're like a fucked-up Great Dane trying to pass itself off as a lap dog in a Cronenberg movie." "Nothing's wrong!" He snaps back. Even to his own ears, it sounds like a lie. "S-Shut up! Why didn't you get the dog teeth question, then?" "You really think I log that shit away, don't you?" Eddie shakes his head sadly. "Buck, every time you drop a useless fact, I text it to Chris and then consciously give it the heave-ho out of my brain." Buck balls up a napkin and throws it at him. "Why, though? What if we get a call about a dog bite! What if that would've come in handy?" Eddie grabs a handful of stale popcorn and flings it at Buck's face in retaliation, then vengefully grabs another when Buck simply closes his eyes and lets them bounce right off. Buck is so tempted to ask Eddie if he thinks a little popcorn is going to scare the guy who faced down a tsunami and lived to tell the tale, but Eddie might break the table in half. "When Tommy told me to invite you, I promised you'd be cool. I said you'd be an asset. An asset, Buck, not an ass hat." Dana presses the rim of her cocktail glass to her lips, curved and startling red like a knife wound. She looks like she's enjoying herself. "Is that why you were so quiet during the last round, Diaz? Were you busy coming up with that one?" Eddie lifts a handful of popcorn threateningly in her direction, then has the visible revelation that she'd break him in half like a Kit Kat Bar if he decided to go through with it. He brushes the popcorn back into the bowl, like a complete animal.

[kazoosandfannypacks]

"kick-in-the-pants" writer's game!

Rules:

Reblog this post and put the names/working titles of your wips in either the tags or your reblog. (You may add a brief bio/ship name/any other info if desired)

Your followers can send you the name of one of the wips in an ask, and are welcomed and encouraged to send multiple.

For each wip title you recieve, work for a five minute sprint on writing that wip!

Respond to their ask with one of your favorite lines you wrote during that sprint!

(to encourage community spirit, it is suggested to send an ask to the person you reblogged it from, and whoever reblogs it from you)

[stealingpotatoes]

WIP TITLE GAME (except i havent got an open askbox so you're using comments to get snippets)

@dramaqueen243 commented: ahsoka cal chat rewrite!

As she grew older, it became a sharp survival instinct. Inquisitors bled loudly into the Force, a scratching, scraping presence that warned her to stop reaching and start running. A warning she too-often ignored, but a warning nonetheless. It had been rare to find anything else.  Reaching out now, she expected the quiet peace of the sleeping academy. The padawans’ signatures hummed gently at the back of her mind, all varying levels of untrained brightness. Stronger, she could sense Ezra (a presence so intertwined with his planet that if she were any more tired, she would’ve thought she was back on Lothal) and Luke (so strong even in sleep and far, far too familiar). Merrin’s Nightsister-foreign signature was always a little harder to sense, but all Ahsoka had to do was sense for Cal, who… Ahsoka blinked her eyes back open, her markings forming a solid furrow on her brow.  Cal, whose half-shielded presence sung loud, panicked, and very much awake.

[zzoomacroom]

Retired amnesia Dream + coma Hob for WIP ask game please 🥺🥺🥺

Thank you for the ask! @linzod asked about this one too, and I'm super excited about it! I only have it outlined so far, but I'm hoping to write it once I'm done with the mpreg fic.

So Murphy is just some guy, as far as he knows. He's an artist, and he's kind of a shut-in with no friends and no life to speak of. He starts having really vivid dreams that, unbeknownst to him, are showing him memories of his past life. He also keeps having these recurring dreams where he meets with this guy named Hob who seems really familiar and keeps telling Murphy that he's real, he's been looking for him, he's trapped in the Dreaming and he needs Murphy to find him in the waking world. Murphy doesn't believe any of it, thinks his unconscious mind made the whole thing up, and he's like, "great, I'm so lonely that my sleeping mind made me an imaginary friend." But then he keeps finding clues suggesting that Hob is telling the truth. He goes to the White Horse and, even though it's abandoned and boarded up, he recognizes it from his dreams. He also maybe finds mentions of Hob in historical texts, the drawing of them from the 1789 meeting, etc. So now he understands that it's all true, and he has to find Hob and hopefully regain his memories in the process.

Now I'm going to put what's happening from Hob's perspective under the cut, because it's a plot twist that would be revealed later in the story.

So how did they end up in this situation? Well, after the Wake, Hob became more unhinged than ever and couldn't accept that Dream was dead. So he planned to do a whole "Dream of a Thousand Cats" style thing and have a thousand people dream that Morpheus is alive again. But in order to organize and orchestrate this whole plan, Hob puts himself into a magically induced coma so he can stay in the Dreaming and make sure the plan works. But once it does, he finds himself stuck there. The mysterious and sketchy person he hired to put him into this coma has disappeared, and now he's trapped with no way to wake up. Morpheus keeps finding him when he dreams, so Hob is overjoyed about that but heartbroken that Morpheus doesn't remember him and doesn't believe any of his dreams are real. Eventually, Morpheus finds Hob in the waking world, wakes him up, gets his memories back, and they live happily ever after.

I don't want to give too much away, but I will say that this fic will also feature Death, Delirium, Daniel, Lucienne, Matthew, Johanna Constantine and Mad Hettie.

Hopefully I'll actually be able to get it written before too long 😭

[thefreakandthehair]

wip weekend (sorta) ✨

I wanna write this weekend but I wanna focus on the football au, so I'm not gonna give multiple options this time! instead, if you send me a 🏈 emoji, I'll write three sentences and share 'em! sweet and simple!

a recent snippet to get us going:

He wakes up a few hours later to Steve gently shaking his shoulder and because he’s not used to having other people in his hotel rooms, he accidentally swats him on the bicep.  “Ow, asshole,” Steve mutters, rubbing his arm. “Looks like you’re alive.”  “Sorry, sorry,” Eddie apologizes. “Not used to someone else taking care me of me or whatever. I am alive though, clearly.” 

tags below the cut because tumblr hates tags:

no pressure tags (you can do the normal version or one like this if you're focusing on just one wip!): @corrodedbisexual @penny00dreadful @kkpwnall @fastcardotmp3 @fragilecapric0rnn

@judasofsuburbia @cuoredimuschio @lihhelsing @missberrycake @beetlesandstarss

@withacapitalp @hbyrde36 @hitlikehammers @doublecherrypiediscosuperfly @formosusiniquis + anyone else wants to hop on!

[skywalking-through-life]

Maybe it's too late, but in the WIP fics you listed: 'Percy Jackson's Six Steps to Seducing Your Girlfriend.' What was that one about?

Hi there anonymous friend! 👋💙 Of course it isn't too late!

So, just a heads up if it wasn't what you were expecting, but this one is gonna be smut, lol. Sweet and tender and loving character study smut, but still smut. 😂

I've been playing with how I want to structure this one for a while now, because this is a wip that I've had in my head since this time last year! At first I thought I might just do a short and funny little moment of Percy figuring out things he does that Annabeth is attracted to, and then doing them all at once to increase his chances of getting laid 💀, but then I realized that some other folks have already done that! And I know it would probably be a more cake situation, but I do want to do something a little different. So now I think it's going to be a multichap, with each chapter being a different smut scene, with Percy showing just how well he knows Annabeth and her turn ons/preferences in each one.

But I also might change that structure whenever I sit down to really write it, lmao! If you have preferences, feel free to let me know! I'm not married to any one plan about this fic, I just really want to write Percy and Annabeth being very in love and having some fun times. 😂

[bolithesenate]

Blorbo timetravel and/or Dooku takes over the agricorps 👀

hehehehe

yeah, blorbo timetravel is exactly what it says on the can

all the blorbos randomly wake up in their padawan bodies (theres some attempted murder on Jo's side and some snarkyness on Sy's -- as well as genral mopyness from dooku)

“On a scale of one to ten,” Jocasta was visibly struggling to hold the – much too big and heavy for her current form – saber aloft, “How murderous towards Jedi are you feeling right now?” Yan blinked. “Uh,” he squeaked out, “Three?” “Wrong answer!” She lifted the saber even higher, ready to strike him down. “What even is the right answer?!,” the Jedi-turned-Sith-turned-Initiate wailed as he stumbled back out of range of her rather uncoordinated slashes. “Not karking three!” Her young voice was full of age-inappropriate vitriol as she immediately took chase, slashing up several mattresses and a goodly portion of the wooden tiles on the floor in the process. Yan was busy evading her, though not busy enough to shut the kark up. “What do you want from me, woman?! Should I have said more? Is that what you want?!?”

Jocasta let out an incoherent scream of outrage. “Actually,” Sifo from his bean bag in the farthest corner from their little two-man guerilla war said, “I think the correct amount she was looking for would be zero. If you truly were wondering.” “That’s not even on the scale!,” the immediate protest came – because of course it did. Far be it from Yan to just accept something. Sifo sighed.

they then decide that the only valid way to deal with all those feelings is to take over serenno (for plot reasons, you know how it is) and because they need more people they also kidnap Arath and Lorian with them

it then becomes a wonderful story about how the ideal count of serenno is five jedi padawans in a coat.

and also about how Arath's innate head-exploding powers (that are legends canon) (at least to me) can and will save the galaxy

and dooku takes over the agricorps is...

well, also what it says on the tin. i really like to give straight-forward wip titles. most of the time.

the thing that gets dooku to leave the order is not a message about how bad serenno is doing, but a message on how bad the agricorps is doing

and that simply cannot be permitted to continue

cue him using his resting bitch face powers and also all the embezzled tax money he's stealing from Ramil for good :3

featuring, how else could it be, a dear OC of mine: Sisviker Ninedi, the most harrowed spokesperoson of the agricorps

Dooku observed Corpsmember Ninedi with rapt attention.

So far he had realized three major things about the young theelin.

One, they were absolutely overworked and were lucky to be able to rely on the Force to supplement where sleep and nerves lacked - otherwise they would probably be nothing more than a wandling stress-ulcer. Her for her species unusually dull skin and pale hair hinted on a chronic lack of sleep and essential nutrients. That wouldn't do. Definitely something he'd have to monitor. Two, they were, even with all the stones life tossed onto her path, an incredibly efficient worker. From what he'd seen from her previous track record, Ninedi had always managed, through a very balanced combination between licking the right boots and firmly defending her point when needed, to ensure that the AgriCorps at least didn't suffer any losses with the deals she cut. With the right guidance and a proper sleep schedule Dooku was sure they'd make a formidable spokesperson for the Corps. And three, that she and Rael were never, under any circumstances, to be allowed to meet, lest they wanted to seal the destruction of the Republic in a giant glittery trash fire.

[emeraldhazeart]

WIP Title Game

Rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! then tag as many people as you have WIPS.

I'm not really sure if I'm doing this correctly, but thank you for the tag @thebeckster 💚

I won't list all the titles in my WIP folder, because some of them are just text dumps for parts I've cut but don't want to lose.

Solace (UTMV)

Robin's Nest (UTMV)

Heavy is the Crown (UTMV)

Wildflower (HM/SoS)

Small Comforts and Sun Rays (UTMV)

April Drabble Prompts 2023 (HM/SoS)

Blue Moon Valley (HM/SoS)

If you've been on my Ao3, you'll know what most of these are just by the names 😅

No pressure tags : @sneakyfox55 @lizzie-tempest @miscneilleaneous @hannah-heartstrings @under-art-reblogs @robanilla @naturaldreamer and anyone else that would like to join in 💚

[dadvans]

STIEPPER AUUUUUU AU UAUAUAU UAU AU (thats me making wolf noises)

this is one i have fully fleshed out and am excited about, but it's also suffering from the "i've re-written every scene three times until perfect," so i don't have a great, long snippet to share.

the premise is essentially that instead of moving to peru from oregon--where let me just remind everyone, portland is one of the few places in the US where you can get full nude and drinks without a crazy amount of legal maneuvering or being grandfathered from an older age--buck met several strippers and followed them down to los angeles instead. he works second string at a bar that does magic mike/thunder from down under-esque revues, but every other week has a gay night, where he takes extra shifts because the money is good, and it's the best night for tips, since the usual headliners aren't performing. working as a stripper for gay men makes buck realize he's into guys much earlier in this universe. he meets tommy on thanksgiving while working a private party for a divorced CEO who wanted to celebrate the holidays with some costumed strippers (thanks for that one, robert downey jr!)

tommy, still mostly closeted and with the 118, ends up getting flirted with, going to a gay night where buck recognizes him, and they start having a secret romance, which includes tommy flying him and some stripper friends to palm springs for some extra events, and them going to desert parties. but no dates in public.

their relationship comes to a cross-roads when the same week where buck suggests they go on a date for valentines, tommy runs into one of buck's stripper friends in another, non-stripper related emergency, and gets spooked. dun dun dun!

[rcmclachlan]

screaming: alien invasion!!!!!!!!

slightly quieter but no less enthusiastic: pre-lawsuit alt meeting?

:)

Okay, so, I started a story around the alien invasion idea and then I thought, wouldn't it be funny if that's how they top the S8 premiere? Legit fucking alien invasion.

So I decided to write it as an actual spec script instead. I wrote treatments for the three episodes and have just started on the teleplays. For the season 9 alien invasion 3-part premiere event. Which will never be made. You know, like a completely normal person.

Here's the gist:

Episode 1:

The lead-up to the invasion! The episode opens with Los Angeles ARTCC, which has been dealing with odd radio interference all morning. They get a call from a pilot (guess who) who reports oddly behaving air traffic in his vicinity that isn't showing up on any radar. The scene builds until the call suddenly drops out. The rest of the episode is split between three subplots:

The 118 dealing with a weird call in which a no-nonsense bank executive is believed to be having a psychotic episode when he makes a scene about seeing some kind of spaceship in the sky.

Bobby and Athena having a discussion about the possibility of life elsewhere. Bobby's surprised that Athena is so adamant that aliens are real; he has a monologue about how the concept of aliens is in conflict with everything he's been taught about God.

Maddie, Sue, and Josh—who, thanks to the radio wave issues, hear the second half of Tommy's call to ARTCC when it glitches in to a 911 call that Maddie's working—evading some shadowy military figures. Terry gives them the call on a thumb drive, they end up meeting with Buck (who's going out of his mind because he's been unable to reach Tommy) and playing him the call (it's very sad).

The last scene involves Buck, Maddie, and everyone else convening at the 118 where they're met by the military people who've been chasing Maddie, Sue, and Josh all day. Just as a disheveled woman in her mid to late 50s shows up and claims to know Tommy, the spaceship materializes above LA. The episode ends as it begins charging up and Bobby shouts for everyone to get inside the station.

Episode 2:

This episode is entirely focused on Tommy. It begins with him taking his helicopter up for an early-morning joyride and then making the call to ARTCC (same dialogue as the first episode, but now from his POV) when he sees some kind of flying craft moving non-ballistically. He gets caught in a strange light that freezes his helicopter in midair and then pulls it into the atmosphere. Believing he's about to die, he asks the controllers to locate Evan Buckley at the LAFD 118 and tell him that Tommy loves him. Everything goes white.

Tommy has a very Fire in the Sky abduction experience, and he also meets some fellow abductees—including Dev, the woman at the end of episode one, who's with the Air Force out of Edwards AFB.

The subplots include:

Everyone getting to know each other. Tommy talks about Buck and how he was planning to propose the day he was abducted.

Tommy undergoing a harrowing experimentation scene in which he loses his left eye.

The group escaping once they determine it's been a week and the invasion is underway. They realize they're not the only species being held captive and free as many as they can. At one point, it becomes apparent that someone will need to stay behind to act as a decoy. It's Tommy, natch.

Tommy barely evading capture a second time and stumbling upon the ship's hangar.

The episode ends with him in one of the ship's fighter crafts, falling in line with a squadron as they make their way into LA airspace.

Episode 3:

The episode opens in Buck's kitchen, where Tommy and Buck are making dinner. Tommy tells Buck to cancel all his plans for his 48 because Tommy's calling dibs. The music playing on Tommy's phone switches to something slow and Buck laments about never getting to dance with him at Maddie's wedding. They end up slow dancing. Tommy puts his mouth to Buck's ear, but instead of whispering sweet nothings, it's Tommy's final words from his ARTCC call.

Buck is shaken awake by a soot-covered, exhausted Hen, who tells them their shift is about to start. Buck, equally filthy with cuts and bruises all over his body, allows himself a moment to visibly grieve, then gets up. They make their way out of the hollowed-out station, where the others are waiting.

The 118 (plus Athena) venture out into LA, which is in ruins. Ever since they dug themselves out of the rubble, they've been trying to find and help any survivors.

Subplots include:

Coming across people trapped in a collapsed restaurant. They're able to save two of the five. All the while, the last gasp of the military is taking on alien fighters in the sky.

Bobby having a major crisis of faith and nearly giving up entirely. He tells his team he doesn't know how much more he has to give. Hen tells him they can only do their best for as long as they're able (and it's implied it won't be for much longer).

A wave of alien fighters descending upon LA, which makes the 118 think it's finally the end for them. But one fighter breaks from the others and starts shooting them down. Eddie recognizes the flight techniques as American military and Buck is certain it's Tommy. Thanks to Karen's makeshift radio out of Athena's police cruiser, they're able to alert everyone nearby that someone on their side is fighting in an enemy ship and needs support. They watch the military join the fray and start taking down the other alien ships.

Buck and a battered but very alive Tommy are reunited.

The episode ends with everyone watching as various non-enemy alien ships, including ones recognizable from episode 2 (implying the some of the aliens Tommy helped escape have joined the fight) descend from the atmosphere. The tide turns.

ROLL CREDITS, BITCHES

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Tagged by @eddiebabygirldiaz and @rewritetheending for wip Wednesday! Okay here’s some of the thing the Bobby and the devil story is from… 🧍‍♂️🌕🐺….

“I just need to- be alone, clear my head sometimes. I- I go out, take hikes. A-and I’ll absolutely go hiking with you, uh, if you want to, but- I just need this one by myself.” He’d said it like an apology, honest to god wringing his hands, but Eddie’s face had cleared right up.

“Nah, it’s cool, I get it.” He’d grinned, a little goofy for Buck’s benefit, offering up forgiveness easy as anything. “Your head’s pretty empty, must fill up with all sorts of junk you gotta shake out.”

“Ha, ha,” Buck has said, but he’d ruined the sarcasm by immediately genuinely laughing, cramped little giggles he’d tried to hold in. Because Eddie hadn’t said it like he’d believed it, he’d said it like they were friends who can joke around with each other, and Buck usually doesn’t make it past the stage of friendship where you have to be really good all the time so the other person keeps liking you.

“Hit me up sometime when all your brain gunk is cleared from the trail,” Eddie had said, eyes crinkling up at the edges.

Tagging @iinryer @bigfootsmom @butchdiaz @shitouttabuck @colonoscopys @henswilsons @dr-shortsighted-owl @ anybody who wants to share!

[fuctacles]

*puts mouth on microphone* I would like to ask about single dad steve for WIP title game please

hahah, can you believe i wrote this over a year ago, then promptly went 5k deep into the continuation and immediately forgot about it? bonkers. hahah. Here's a part of it:

Just as Steve expected, his neighbors started giving him the stink eye as soon as they got wind of what was happening in his garage. Eddie even offered to close it up not to make a scene but Steve protested the idea. Said he’s not going to let himself be terrorized in his own home and more so won’t let his guests suffocate in a closed garage.

Every Tuesday Steve was preparing dinner to the sound of metal vibrating through the walls. When he got a free moment, waiting for the water to boil or the oven to heat up, he would step into the little rehearsal space.

Corroded Coffin was just an arm’s reach away whenever he felt like listening in. He just had to open the door and could sit on one of the steps leading into the garage. The guys played many original songs but just as many covers, some of which Steve recognized. He has always been a pop guy himself, but both Billy and Max liked some harsher music. It grew on him regardless if he liked it or not.

And watching them play felt amazing. Sometimes, between being a single parent and owning a hair salon, he felt older than he actually was. But right outside his door, in his space, there were four guys his age, jumping around the garage with contagious energy and playing songs from simpler times. He found himself tapping his foot to a cover of Queen. To think that at first, he was hesitant to let them practice here. Now it was a highlight of his week.

Max’s teacher, Eddie, was jumping around like it was a real stage, not a cramped square of stone flooring. He was the lead guitarist, which Steve knew thanks to his kid’s lengthy ramblings about her teacher. The guy also did most of the singing, but all of them joined in, depending on the song. It was clear though who was the frontman of their band.

They were playing an especially energetic song tonight, one that left Steve bopping his head happily. The members of Corroded Coffin shared the sentiment, jumping around and swooshing their fairly impressive manes of hair.

Eddie noticed him halfway through the song and grinned like he always did. Steve grinned back, genuinely happy for being able to have his own little show in the cookie-cutter cul-de-sac in the middle of the day.

But the music teacher didn’t stop there. He approached the steps Steve was sitting on and motioned him to join them. Steve looked at him with confusion and Eddie used the seconds-long break in his part of the song to pull him up. He fumbled for a second but the overall energy and Munson’s feral grin loosened him enough that he let himself be crash-coursed into headbanging.

He hasn’t felt more alive in years.

Eddie played his guitar, jumping around Steve and throwing his hair around. Most of the singing in this song was done by Jeff so besides playing the guitar he could do as much of a show as he wanted. When the track came to an end, they were both panting, leaning into each other and grinning. Steve couldn’t stop the breathy laugh that escaped him.

“Have I told you guys how great you are yet?”

“Only every Tuesday!” Gareth piped up from behind his drums, grinning. Eddie laughed as well.

“Didn’t know it was your scene, Harrington,” Eddie teased with a glint in his eye. Steve shrugged.

“Picked up some stuff from my ex,” he explained shortly.

Eddie quirked up his eyebrow with interest, strumming his guitar softly.

“Was she a metalhead or something?”

Steve observed him for a second, considering if he should correct him. It’s been already a month since they first met and the initial interest he had in the musician was only growing. Maybe it was a good idea to come out and test the waters. Worst case scenario he would have enough of a reason to drop this feeling before it turned into something more.

“He had a thing for classic rock.”

A look of surprise passed through the man’s face. He quickly schooled it into something friendly, but Steve could tell there were a million questions buzzing beneath.

“I see. Well, great to see some of the Hawkins folks educated,” he grinned, and it was genuine enough that Steve knew he didn’t have to worry about any kind of prejudice. He did a cursory glance around the other band members but they either weren’t listening or didn’t care about his impromptu coming out. Some of the tension seeped out of his bones. He motioned to the steps he just abandoned.

“I have some coke if you’re interested.”

Eddie’s features softened.

“Dude, you’re letting us use the garage, we should be treating you.”

Steve scoffed.

“Either you drink it or Max and you don’t want to see her on this amount of caffeine.”

Eddie barked out a laugh, and it warmed Steve all over knowing he caused it.

“Okay, fair. Thank you, then,” he smiled genuinely, disarming Steve.

They had the sodas while Steve came back to the kitchen to cook the pasta. He was still waiting for Max to come back from school too. She had basketball practice that day, which she picked up in honor of her brother, after bullying the teachers long enough to put together a small team of girls to play. The dead brother spiel worked in her favor of course. 

When the dinner was mostly ready, he stepped back into the garage, expecting another song he didn’t recognize, but instead, Eddie looked up at him, barely breaking out of their idle jamming.

“Do you know the words to Should I Stay or Should I Go?”

Steve frowned, taken aback by the abrupt question.

“I think so?” he answered hesitantly.

“Sweet,” Eddie grinned back at him. “Wanna sing for us?”

“Uh,” he hesitated, taken aback.

“C’mon, we’ll sing together,” Eddie offered and Steve hesitantly nodded. Eddie didn’t waste time and pulled him to the mic standing in the middle. It was the only one they had, rotating between Eddie and Jeff.

The familiar notes played around him and nudged with the metalhead's arm right against his, he joined him in singing.

Eddie’s voice was breathy from exertion, from playing for the past hour and jumping around. But here was a gleam in his eye, a delight from playing and maybe, maybe, from Steve agreeing to join them.

When the chorus came on, Steve felt confident enough to hip-check him out of the way and hoard the microphone for himself, He could hear Eddie cackling next to him, but he was now focused on singing and enjoying himself.

The song ended with cheers and a distant clapping. Someone whistled and Steve noticed Max applauding from the top of the stairs.

“Hey, if you’d want to sing for us sometimes, hit us up,” Jeff threw his arm around him. “You’re good,” he praised and Steve grinned his thanks.

Before he could say anything else though, someone was punching him in the ribs. He winced, knowing full well who it might be.

“You’re supposed to be my father, not a cool dude.”

Steve frowned.

“I don’t see how I can’t be both.”

“It’s a well-known natural order,” Eddie chimed in unprompted. “Parents can’t be cool.”

“Huh. Then I guess I should give you up,” he said, mock-seriously, making Max roll her eyes.

“Suuure, after all the legal shit we’ve been through,” she scoffed, looking at him in that way only teenagers could.

“Well, I think all the natural rules of a normal family are above us anyway, don’t you think?’ he raised his eyebrows, making Max smirk devilishly.

“Hell yeah. Fuck the rules.”

Steve pressed his lips not to scold her for language, but he looked to the side where, as he expected, Eddie was donning his proud teacher look. It warmed him up inside.

“Fuck the rules indeed, Red,” he grinned, holding his hand out for a high five,

Steve shook his head before gathering Max towards the kitchen.

“You guys keep it up, Max and I are gonna have dinner. Yell if you need anything.”

“Actually,” Eddie started, making both Harringtons turn in interest. “We have a show on Saturday if you guys wanna come.”

“Can I?” Max asked immediately, eyes darting between her teacher and Steve.

“We don’t usually have an audience this young, but with a guardian, it’s not gonna be a problem,” said Eddie, turning his gaze to Steve. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth.

“I usually work on the weekends, but I guess we could drop by.”

Max whooped happily and Steve couldn’t help but smile himself. He actually really wanted to see Eddie on stage, if he was anything like he saw today it would be a treat to witness.

“See you at the Hideout at 8 PM then,” Eddie grinned at them before they retreated to the kitchen.

At the table, Max eyed Steve with curiosity, pushing the broccoli on her plate out of the way. He was chewing with a distant look on his face, a foot tapping to the beat coming faintly from the closed door.

“The Hideout is a kinda shady place, don’t you think?”

Steve made a noncommittal grunt and shrugged before finally focusing his gaze on her. He frowned, cocking his head.

“Do you not wanna go?”

She scoffed, getting angry for something Steve couldn’t grasp.

“Do you want me to go?”

His frown deepened as he straightened up.

“Okay, wait. Do I want you to go to a concert with me? A concert we were invited to by your music teacher?” He raised his eyebrows, trying to find a hole in the idea.

“A metal concert. In a bar,” she pointed out, squinting at him. He squinted right back.

“So? You’ll be with me. I can get a leash if you’re insinuating you’re gonna cause problems.”

She puffed her cheeks, raising her hands.

“No insinuating here,” she assured. “Just, it’s not very,” she waved her hand. “Responsible parent of you.”

“No, but a very cool parent, I hope.”

“In your dreams”, she scoffed.

He smiled at her. She didn’t question his decision anymore, but Steve could feel her gaze on him later when they waved the band goodbye.