lyv-writes - Tumblr blog

[lyv-writes]

this spencer request is kicking my ass and its literally so simple f au ck

[lyv-writes]

as always, feel free to send in requests or random asks!! ^____^

[lyv-writes]

have a lee bodecker wip i am just so stuck on but i LOVE IT SO BAD … i just dont kno how to finish it off T—T

[lyv-writes]

it's so upsetting when ppl complain about not having fics to read but refuse to read wips like ?? this isn't a book store this is a community... the authors are less likely to finish it if y'all only show their work love after it's done...

this isn't a bookstore this is a community

SAY IT LOUDER ANON

i know WIPs can be frustrating because they don't always update constantly or consistently. sometimes they get abandoned. sometimes they go on hiatus for long periods of time.

trust me, i get it. but the fanfic community and fanfic writers thrive on people supporting their works in progress. "there aren't any fics to read" - no there ARE, you're just not reading them.

ao3 isn't netflix. you very rarely get a finished product all in one go that's not a one shot. that defeats the purpose of being able to upload individual chapters at different times.

we as a society are too used to instant gratification and "binging." fanfic wasn't designed for that. if you want to "binge read," go buy a published book. if you want to participate in fandom, support writers who are putting their work out there for free without any compensation other than your love, support, and encouragement.

[lyv-writes]

hi!! could you write shy!reader where Eddie bumps into the new kid at school and she gets hurt? I’m a sucker when it comes to Eddie doting on people 🙈

i tried to be so normal about this request but then proceeded to write 2k words for it so... hope you like it lol :D — the hawkins high freak takes the new girl under his wing after they run into each other. literally. (shy!r, meet ugly-ish, hurt/comfort, 2.2k)

You clutch a paper schedule in a pair of anxious hands, squinting to see through the scribbles there. Three boys in bright green lettermans made a total mess of it — writing directions in chicken scratch and doodling a sloppy map of the school over your classes. They said they were helping you, but really they’ve just turned you all around.

Fallen leaves crunchbeneath your feet as you walk past the vacant football field. West of the bleachers and down the dirt trail, the stranger with a harsh jawline and quaffed blonde hair told you. His directions lead you directly to a half-decrepit building in the thick of the woods. A strange spot for a biology lab.

You’re trying to make sense of the scrawled notes on your syllabus — eyes narrowed, and chin tilted downward — when you run into something tall and firm. You don’t hit the warm body hard enough to fall, but stumble back in fear enough to slip on the dewy grass. Like a cartoon character and a banana peel, you land comically on your ass.

“Shit. Sorry,” the towering stranger grimaces. “Didn’t see you there.”

Your wrists start to sting, burdened with the weight of catching your fall. “It’s okay…” you tell him anyway. ‘Cause everything’s always okay. Even when it isn’t. 

A ringed hand enters your vision then — lanky, pale, and tattooed. “Here. Let me help you up.”

“It’s okay,” you dismiss with a shake of your head. “I got it.”

Your jaw clenches tight as you rise on your feet. The slippery mud threatens to pull you down again. Your wrists throb with a dull and distant ache. You stand, despite all that, before the stranger you’d stumbled into the back of. 

Eddie watches you wipe your dirt-covered palms together with a lopsided smile tugging at his mouth. He doesn’t have a clue who you are, but he’s getting a few ideas now. You’re a strong, stubborn, and shy little thing. Pretty, too. 

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he cautions with his palms spread awkwardly in front of him. He wants to make sure you’re alright, but he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Strong, stubborn, shy, and definitely skittish, he thinks to himself.

You shake your head again, finally glancing at the boy looming before you. His curls are dark and untamed, billowing in the early spring breeze. His deep chocolate eyes match the color of the frizzy strands — both equally as wild as the smile he looks at you with.

Your breath catches suddenly in your throat. You hadn’t expected to bump into him, of course, but you expected even less for him to be so pretty.

“I’m—”

“Don’t say okay,” he interjects before you can start. His plush lips quirk in a genuine smile a second later, to show he’s only joking.

You swallow hard, still hopelessly trying to rid the mud from your aching palms. “I’m… I’m— I’m fine.”

The boy scoffs a faint laugh. “Here. Let me see.”

He takes your wrists in his hands before you can protest. His fingers are long, gentle, and strangely warm as he brushes the mud off your scrapped skin — hardly flinching when it dirties his own. 

He wipes his palms on his jeans after, never minding how it stains the denim. Then he reaches a leather-clad arm behind you and plucks a leaf gently from your hair. He flicks it to the ground again.

“There,” he grins. “Good as new.”

“Thanks…” you sigh, voice wavering from a reason you can’t name.

“Why haven’t I seen you around before?”

“‘Cause I’m… I’m new.”

“Explains why you’re all the way out here,” he jokes. Most people only come around this side of the football field to buy weed off him, and you don’t exactly seem like the type. His chocolate eyes narrow. “You lost?”

You shift on your feet, feeling suddenly very silly about the whole thing. You’ve got to be a special kind of stupid to take advice from a bunch of jocks and hardly bat an eye when they lead you in the exact opposite direction. You’re too trusting for your own good. It’s embarrassing.

“I was, uh— I was just trying to follow this map, but…” you wave the paper in your clammy hand. “I think it just made me more lost.”

Eddie reaches out a ringed hand and takes the schedule from you when you hand it over. His face scrunches softly together as he squints at the sloppy scribbles. You can’t tell if he’s confused or if he needs glasses. Maybe both.

He can hardly make sense of the directions. And the map was designed in a very obvious attempt to confuse you — the sweet, shy girl who’s never stepped foot here before. Something redhot simmers in his chest ‘cause he can’t imagine doing this to someone. Finding someone who obviously needs help and doing them over for a couple measly laughs.

It’s got Jason Carver and the Dick Brigade written all over it. Literally.

“Who gave this to you?” he asks anyway, just to be sure.

You blink up at him with a pair of doe eyes, gaze glimmering with innocence. “Um… A couple of basketball players, I think. They were wearing lettermans, so…”

“Fucking Carver,” the boy grumbles under his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing…” he sighs. “Here. C’mon. Let’s go.” 

“Where— Where are we…” you mutter in a mousy voice, trailing off when he stomps past you. You get a faint whiff of floral shampoo and woodsy cologne as he goes. Less inclined to stay alone in the unfamiliar forest, you decide to follow behind him. “O-Okay…”

You fight to keep up with his considerably longer strides as the stranger leads you back towards the school. His dark eyes flit over your schedule, squinting to see past the messy lettering covering the typeface. 

“No point in making it to your third period,” he announces suddenly, swinging the heavy metal door open with a ringed hand. The rusted hinges squeak in protest when he holds it open for you with his foot. You slide in past him. He walks on ahead of you again, letting the thing slam shut behind him.

“Why?” you ask the back of him, voice wavering.

“‘Cause you’re already fifteen minutes late. And take it from me— Mr. Kaminsky hates when people are late,” Eddie tells you, flashing you a stern look over his shoulder. “Trust me. I learned that the hard way.”

Your brows pinch as your face swirls with a distant panic. You couldn’t conceal your worry if you tried. The gravity of it all hits you, then — the fact that you’re following a stranger you ran into (in the most literal sense of the phrase), who’d previously been half-hidden away in the forest behind the school.

It’s all a bit odd when you think about it. This. Him. You. 

But this strange boy, dripping in silver and all black, is the very first person to show you an ounce of kindness all day. You don’t know why you’re following him so blindly — only that you don’t mind it as much as you should.

“Okay. So. Uh… Where are we— Where are we going, then?” you squeak behind him.

“Right here,” he answers, stopping short in the middle of the hallway. 

Still a few paces back, you don’t hopelessly bump into the back of him like you did before. You watch with wide and curious eyes as he wraps a pale hand around a rusted door knob. The heavy wooden entrance squeals when he opens it.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” the boy jokes with a crooked grin. Everything about the pink expression glitters with mischief. He flicks on the light switch, letting the flourescent lights buzz on in protest. “Well, not abode— I don’t live here, but… You get it.”

The room smells overwhelmingly teenage boy. A mixture of cologne, sweet soda, and sweat. Most of the chairs have been stacked on top of each other and pushed to the edge of the room to make space for the long wooden table in the center. Binders, notebooks, and miscellaneous figurines sit scattered on a gameboard.

“Is that D&D?” you wonder quietly.

Eddie lights up at the question. “You play?” he asks as he saunters to the desk shoved in the very back corner of the room.

His excitement makes you regret your answer. 

“No…” you waver, then quickly follow. “But I’ve— I’ve heard about it.”

“I’m president of the Hellfire club,” he tells you, nodding to the poster on the wall. The demon in the center of it isn’t nearly as intimidating when you can tell it’s handmade. “You should join.”

The boy eyes you expectantly as he rounds the metal desk. You shift your weight on your feet and wring your clammy hands together. He tilts his chin to his chest and peers at you from underneath his lashes. “Think about it?” he presses.

You nod once. “Sure.”

He ducks down then, out of view behind the bulky desk. You stand awkwardly in place while the boy rummages through the drawers. “Ah, here we go…” you hear him murmur after a few moments — followed by a dull thud when he bangs his head. “Shit!” he swears under his breath before rising to his feet again.

You hide your smile behind your scrapped palm as he walks back over to you. His cheeks glow faintly pink as he rubs the crown of his head with his hand — the one not clutching a first-aid kit. “Here. Shit down. Let me look at your hands,” he urges, still worried about you despite his throbbing skull.

You shake your head rapidly in response. You’re not used to being doted on like this — or at all, really — but especially not from a metalhead, wild-haired, pretty-faced stranger. “No. I’m— I’m okay.”

His chocolate eyes go wide and softly stern. They glimmer playfully down at you as his brows raise behind his fluffy bangs. “What we’d just talk about?” he teases.

You swallow down the rest of your protests. “Right…”

You sit in the chair adjacent to the one at the head of the table. The cheap plastic is a stark contrast to the heavy wooden throne the stranger descends upon — with a sort of ease that tells you he sits there often.

He digs into the opened first-aid kit and pulls out a bandaid for you. He fumbles with the packaging for a moment before ripping it open with his teeth. 

“It’s okay not to be okay, you know?” he tells you, mostly muffled until he spits out the paper in his mouth. It lands on the floor at his feet, but he doesn’t seem inclined to pick it up. “Tell me I’m a shithead who needs to watch where he’s going. I know that’s what you’re thinking.”

Your face screws in offense. “I wasn’t—”

“I’m teasing,” he interjects softly, peering at you with a pair of button eyes. “Even though I am a shithead who needs to watch where he’s going.” He takes your palm between his warm and gently calloused ones. He smooths the large bandage over the raging scrape below your thumb with an impossibly delicate touch. “I’m sorry about that, by the way. Again.”

“It was my fault,” you murmur, gaze averted to the boy’s kind hands — at the six tiny bats tattoed in the junction of his thumb and forefinger. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s just a scrape, anyway, I can handle it.”

“Agree to disagree,” the boy says with a lopsided smile, brushing his thumb over the bandage to smooth it out. He gives your fingers a small squeeze before he parts from you. “There you good. Good as new.”

Your hands buzz with the longing to feel him again. You bring both of them to your lap, wrenching your fingers into a knot and hoping your face doesn’t look as hot as it feels. “Thank you…” you murmur, trailing off when you realize you don’t know the kind stranger’s name.

“Eddie,” he finishes for you.

“…Eddie.”

“You can stay in here with me if you want,” he offers with a nonchalant shrug — trying to be cool despite his thundering heart. “Third period’ll be over in, like, twenty minutes. I can walk you to your next class— you know, make sure all the freaks leave you alone.”

You purse your lips to the side of your mouth in attempts to hide the beam tugging there. It only halfway works. “That’d be great,” you tell him in a mousy voice. “Thank you…”

Eddie swallows hard and leans forward again. You can smell the nicotine on his breath and the musky cologne on his neck. His face hardens into a gently solemn look. 

“And don’t… Don’t hang around Jason Carver and his goons anymore, okay?” he tells you, sounding like he’s half-pleading. “Those assholes that fucked with your schedule? They’re bad news.”

Feeling like he must know this better than anyone else, you nod firmly in response. “Okay,” you answer, though it comes out in a whisper when the word gets caught in your throat. Something about having Eddie to you is making your body go all funny. It’s weird.

“Stick with me, okay?” the boy smiles, pink and pretty and petaled, as he slouches back onto his throne again. “I’ll take care of you.”

[lyv-writes]

very important type of shot

[lyv-writes]

refusing to unfollow my old writer friends even tho most of their accs havent been active in 2+ years

[lyv-writes]

[lyv-writes]

Our fandom forbearers did NOT suffer through Anne Rice, strikethrough, and other bullshit for fucking ACOTAR and Harry Potter fans to fucking ruin it for all of us by selling fanfiction. I am not losing novel length yaoi epics because some of you don't know how to act in fannish spaces and yes I do blame the booktokification of fanfic but I also blame those of you that treat fandom like content to consume and not a community to engage with.

[lyv-writes]

Reblog so everyone can hear what they need.

[lyv-writes]

The Get Down (2016-2017) Gamble Everything (S01E10)

[lyv-writes]

how about them single parent!au's??

im on the bus and my 2-year-old won’t stop crying, except you just smiled at them and they did

i asked you to babysit one time and now my child keeps asking when you will spend time with them again

you asked me to the store with you and your child, and now my distant relative we met thinks im married with a baby 

we are friends and my child’s first word was your name and im jealous but also kind of endeared

you’ve been sleeping at mine because your house is being renovated and we aren’t even dating, yet every time you wake up to the baby crying and sigh, “i’ll go” i feel like we might as well be married

we’ve been on a few dates and my child just asked us when we are getting married

our children are in the same class and we both hate their teacher, eventually the parents’ evenings are just us competing who can call out snarkier comments

we are the only two parents who agreed to attend the school trip (bonus: “so i guess we share this hotel room?”)

our children are best friends….yeah

“i’m so sorry that my child pointed out how your shirt- actually nevermind i agree, that shirt is horrendous”

you crouched down to coo at my baby but i forgot to tell you their favorite thing to do is to play with people’s hair and now they won’t let go of you

[lyv-writes]

🐺 The Front Bottoms lyric starters

“You are still the only thing and everything I need in my life,”

“Thanks, it’s kind of all I got. It’s also all I need.”

“There’s just no place in between for us to meet,”

“I move slow, just slow enough to make you uncomfortable,”

“You say ‘I hate you’ and you mean it, and I love you sounds fake. It’s taken me so long to figure that out.”

“I used to love the taste, I would do anything for it. Now I would do anything to get the taste out of my mouth.”

“If you had done anything with anyone else, it would have worked out so well,”

“I love the idea of places I’ll never go,”

“It probably won’t get easier, just easier to hide.”

“Prepare for an aching the rest of your life,”

“I faked my death and I’ll keep pretending, if nothing else for the sake of the tradition,”

“I love your eyes. The way they look when you’re uncomfortable.”

“They’ll probably arrest me. They’ll probably ruin my whole summer.”

“Casanova just can’t turn the charm on, or find the right vibration.”

“You gotta promise not to break, no matter how far you are bent.”

“It’s probably just my friends fucking around, they never cut me any slack,”

“it’s clear as the window I came through that you’re in one of those moods, and I’m in one, too.”

“It’s someone who’ll never learn that I could not give a fuck,”

“Hold on to hope I’m sure was never there,”

“I have this dream that I am hitting my dad with a baseball bat and he’s screaming and crying for help,”

“Halfway through it has more to do with me killing him than it ever did protecting myself,”

“Maybe no one is perfect, but I believe that you are pushing your luck,”

“You were high school, and I was just more real life,”

“I’ll do the push-ups, I’ll wear the makeup, I’ll do whatever he wants all night.”

“I hope I fall asleep at the wheel and crash my car on the way home, or I could just stay here.”

“There’s no doubt in my mind that if you could you would try to crack my rib-cage open and pull my heart through,”

“I am permanently preoccupied with your past,”

“I’ve been around long enough now to know that good things never last.”

“How low is your self esteem, and how low could it possibly be?”

“Don’t tell me complicated stories about who you used to be, but are different and have changed as a person completely.”

“I am not sure that I want any single part of this shit,”

“Keep it simple and honest. Stop crying, you’re an adult.”

“I wanna feel lethal on the inside.”

“It’s this dirty type of clean that keeps me trapped in here for hours,”

“Forget and ignore who I used to be, that kid is never coming back.”

“He says his grandpa’s in the mafia, he’s the nicest guy I know.”

“I’ve got this stereotypical temper I cannot shake,”

“Can you please take me off speaker phone, this is a private conversation,”

“I’m pretty sure I’m the only guy she hooked up with tonight, but probably not.”

“Who did I think I was, who did I think I could be?”

“Oh how dare me,”

“Come on, give me a break. What is the point if I stay,”

“It’s such an unimportant detail that has nothing to do with anything, but it’s the only thing I remember,”

“There’s not so many ways this could possibly end,”

[lyv-writes]

in case you didn't know

for muses who need to share some intimate thoughts with one another. can be platonic, romantic, familial ... works with any kind of dynamic really. feel free to change pronouns, descriptor words, whatever you may need!

❝ you know i love and care about you, right? ❞ ❝ ... i guess i'm just scared of losing you. ❞ ❝ i don't like most people, but you're an exception. ❞ ❝ you're not alone. you'll never be alone. not as long as i'm here. ❞ ❝ by your side is where i'm meant to be. ❞ ❝ not one person is more important to me than you. ❞ ❝ i don't know what it is about you, but, you just ... you're the only one who can make me feel like this. ❞ ❝ you're amazing, you know that? ❞ ❝ who has the greatest (friend/brother/sister/sibling/parent/etc) in the world? me, that's who! ❞ ❝ i'm only managing to stand here on my two feet because of you. i made it because of you. ❞ ❝ i don't know how i'm ever going to be able to repay you. ❞ ❝ i know for a fact that you're special. i can feel it. ❞ ❝ you've actually made me feel like a person again, like i'm ... normal. ... thank you. ❞ ❝ i used to think that everyone else was just evil and cynical, guided by their own self-interest. that is, until i met you. ❞ ❝ you truly are too good for this world. ❞ ❝ i'm always blown away by just how talented you are. ❞ ❝ you deserve so much more than what you were given. ❞ ❝ nobody i've ever met has been more gifted than you. ❞ ❝ if you ever need a place to stay, let me know, okay? ❞ ❝ you always feel really comfortable and safe to be around. ❞ ❝ i think i have a new purpose in my life. to be with you. ❞ ❝ you have a kind heart. i know you don't believe me, and you try to hide it behind a facade, but i know for a fact that you do, deep down. ❞ ❝ i think you're probably the only one who understands me. ❞ ❝ you're safe here with me. nobody's going to harm you ever again. ❞ ❝ i don't deserve someone as amazing as you. ❞ ❝ i was kind to you because you looked like you needed a friend. ❞ ❝ i'm never leaving you. you're stuck with me. ❞

[lyv-writes]

soft prompts to make you yearn

resting your head gently on their shoulder

them running their fingers through your hair

them gently tilting your chin

and looking into your eyes

so that your eyes lock in a deep gaze

placing a soft kiss on their forehead

interlocking your fingers while holding hands

back hugs back hugs back hugs

embracing them from a sudden hug from behind

and whispering in their ears, “i love you,”

soft kisses on both cheeks and tip of the nose.

cupping your face in their hands and them telling you, “you. you are the one i love.”

[lyv-writes]

fake dating prompts

as celebrities ????? ..... im cooking

"hold my hand" "absolutely not" "they'll think somethings wrong if you don't" *grabs hand and kisses cheek*

staying at a hotel but theres only one bed

kissing in private as 'practise'

"if we do this, we need rules" "rules? for dating? seriously?"

wearing eachothers clothes publicly to 'keep up the image'

"all you have to do is stand there and look pretty, it shouldn't be that hard" "it's not gonna be hard at all, thanks!"

"you have to admit we look good together" "i don't have to admit anything"

"i think i might be falling for you" *laugh* "good one!"

acting like a couple in private to 'stay in character'

fake dating with benefits??

meticulously planning 'candid' photos

living together so people dont get suspicious

coming up with a ridiculous story on how they got together to see if people would believe it

flirting as an act turning to real flirting

"why did you kiss me with tongue?!" "'cause it was kinda funny"

"i hate you" "there's people coming" and now they're making out

using the most embarrassing pet names they can think of

"you're not even a good actor" *has 4 oscars*

reasons for fake dating:

to make ones ex jealous

so ones ex leaves them alone

so they dont have to attend award shows alone

for media attention

to avoid media attention (but they end up gaining more)

for fun

ADD ON TO THIS!!!! I NEED MORE FAKE DATING PROMPTS FOR MY OWN WRITING

[lyv-writes]