#i need someone to write fix it fic

[lovealwayssay]

I would pay an ungodly amount of money for a Supernatural finale where Dean rescues Cas from the Empty and tells him he loves him too, Eileen comes back to be with Sam, and Jack chooses to live with the four of them in the bunker as a happy family.

[queenie-ofthe-void]

pre-S4 Robin and Max || wc: ~1.6k || rating: teen || cws: depression, brief mentions of bullying and child neglect

~~~

Robin drops her lunch tray onto the table, falling into the seat with purpose. The young girl across from her startles at the movement. Pulling her headphones down slightly, Max raises her eyebrow in question, clearly annoyed at the unwelcomed company. Robin mimics the look in an overly dramatic way, and takes a large bite of her instant mashed potatoes. 

When Max only rolls her eyes and goes back to her homework– headphones off– Robin considers it a win. The girl’s been pulling away since Starcourt, drawing into herself in a way that’s putting everyone on edge, and the Party is at a loss for what to do. 

The beginning of freshman year was tough on all of the kids, but especially Max. Robin would eye her from across the lunchroom, seated at the opposite end of the table from the loud, brash, super super senior along with the rest of the Party and Hellfire boys. The poor girl would startle anytime Munson laughed too harshly and flinched at the loud bang of his fists on the table, shrinking into herself during his tabletop tirades. 

Needless to say, sitting with the Hellfire boys didn’t last long. Max’s patience for Eddie thinned even further after settling into the trailer across from him, complaining about music keeping her up at all hours of the night– the same electric guitar riffs over and over again. And she’d made more than one off-hand sarcastic remark about Munson’s late night customers causing the dog to howl at all hours of the night.

Robin looks towards the Hellfire table now. Sure enough, Eddie’s flailing his arms around in what is most likely a lecture on The Man. Dustin’s wide eyes and Mike’s entranced smile tell her they’re fully proselytized to the Munson Doctrine now, after a full five months of brain washing. Hopeless, the both of them. She has no idea what they see in the town drug dealer beyond D&D. Mike didn’t even like rock music before he joined Hellfire. Now he’s subconsciously crushing so hard on their fearless leader that he’s starting to dress like him. 

She supposes she’d be a bit of a hypocrite to judge him too harshly though. She only joined the pep band to see Vickie after school.

Cutting off her own dating anxieties, she focuses back on Max. The young girl is more relaxed than when Robin first sat down. She’s hunched over an old copy of Romeo and Juliet. Not one of Robin’s personal favorites, and she’d guess not one of Max’s either if her frustrated huff means anything. Why it’s required reading for freshmen she’ll never understand. But speaking of Romeo…

She looks around again, and her eyes lock on to Lucas’s. He’s staring directly at her with a desperate look in his eye that Robin tries to acquiesce with a tight smile. Another boy in a letterman jacket is trying to get his attention, but he’s shrugged off as Lucas moves to stand. 

Panicked, Robin checks to see that Max hasn’t noticed and shakes her head. A silent plea to not ruin the small ground she’s gained-- the first ground anyone has gained with Max in weeks. Hurt flashes across his face, but he sits down. Robin nods, hopefully telegraphing her thoughts. She can tell he's not happy about it, but he settles back into the conversation with his teammates.

Max dumped him just before Halloween and just shortly after she quit sitting with the Hellfire boys. Lucas had tried sitting with her instead, but the older boys stomped their proverbial toddler feet, arguing that he was already splitting too much of his time between D&D and basketball practice. They couldn’t believe he then had the audacity to spend even less time with them just to hang with some girl.

Needless to say Mike and Dustin had been less than supportive, caving to the peer pressure from the older members and Robin knows it’s one of the reasons why Lucas eventually ended up sitting with his teammates.

Then her mom started pulling doubles during the holidays and Max did her best to hole up in the trailer, refusing to come out no matter how much caroling the boys tried. Robin understands why Max wouldn’t want to go to the Party’s holiday gatherings. The boys were the core unit of the group, backed up by the Wheeler and Byers families. But the Byers’ left and took her best friend with them, the boys were fighting, and they weren’t even sure if Lucas would show up if Max wasn’t there. Robin was one of the few people involved in the Upside-Down bullshit who understood what isolation from the core group felt like, so why not try to include Max in their own tiny group of three.

A few days later, on the coldest day of break, Robin sat in the passenger seat with her fingers smashed up against the beemer’s heat vent and watched out the window as Max opened the door for the only person she was still talking to. The girl put up an argument, but no one can out-bitch The King himself. She let him in and they stepped out a few minutes later, a bag slung over her shoulder and a small dog in her arms. He never complained, even when the house smelled like wet dog for a week later.

Now it’s almost March, and it’s been weeks since she’s talked to anyone. She’s been sitting alone everyday, not answering the phone. So maybe it's Robin's turn to try talking with her, girl to girl.

“I know what you’re doing here,” Max states, hiding her hesitancy under a false bravado, the casual air of her tone undercut by her shifting gaze. “You can tell him to stop worrying, I’m fine.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Random Girl,” Robin answers with an innocent wave of her hand.

Max’s deadpanned stare says she’s not buying it. The nickname all but confirms her motives. 

That’s fine, Robin just needs a foot in the door and now that Max has opened said door, it’s like the dam between Robin's brain and mouth has burst. 

“I was just sitting here eating my lunch and minding my own business, when you decided to say something. And honestly, I think that’s pretty good for me considering I’ve been sitting here for almost twenty minutes in complete silence, which– you know– is not really my forte. Normally I like when people talk to me, it’s how conversations are supposed to work, ya know? But when it’s just me I can’t seem to stop and I’ll, like, keep going and going until it gets awkward.”

She can’t stop rambling and oh god she’s going to ruin this, she’s sure of it. Max let her sit here and now she’s going to ruin this for Lucas and the boys and–

“Just,” Max interrupts. Robin takes a deep breath, in and out. Calming herself down and keeping her mouth shut. “You can sit here, alright. But don’t, like, expect anything from me. You’re not going to get me to open up, or some shit– don’t even say language right now Robin I swear– so that you can report back on how I’m doing. Because I’m fine. Really.”

“Why would I report back to Lucas how you’re doing–” Robin starts. But Max interrupts again.

“You know that’s not who I’m talking about,” Max says quietly. Her eyes are turned downward, avoiding eye contact now that the fire’s burned out.

“Max,” Robin tries again, yet doesn’t know what to say. Anything she says will either be a lie, or so genuinely truthful Max might withdraw again. 

“Max, I just want to sit here. Ok? I promise I won’t jump in the beemer after school and spill all your secrets. We don’t even have to talk if you don’t want to! I’ll just sit over here and do homework, while you sit over there and do homework. Because Nancy’s busy with the newspaper now and maybe I can help you with Spanish and just--,” but she stops. She has to be honest. Or at least try without it being too much.

Max is looking at her. Watching intently, searching for something Robin can’t figure out.

She sighs, exhausted but unwilling to give up.

“He’s worried about you. Of course he is. That’s, like, Steve’s whole entire personality.” It gets the small smile out of Max that she was trying for. “But I’m sitting here because I want to, not because he told me to or so I could, I don’t know, gather information for him. Talk to me or not, but I’m sitting here for lunch from now on.”

Max eyes Robin, and must find whatever she was looking for. 

The bell rings, and they both move to pack up their books. “If you’re sitting here,” Max says “then you’re going to have to listen to me gush about Kate Bush.”

Like that’s a deterrent. Hell, it’s an incentive.

“Fine,” Robin makes a show of it, whining and rolling her eyes. “Then you’re going to have to get over it and listen to me bitch about Steve being a dingus and a total loser when it comes to picking up girls at work. I spend too much time with him to not get it off my chest.”

“Totally understandable,” Max says, a huff of laughter escaping behind her restrained smile. “See you tomorrow then.”

Robin turns, bouncing lightly on her feet to her next class after a successful mission. Steve might not have asked her to do this, but she’s doing it for him regardless. For both Steve and Max. 

She can’t wait to tell him all about it.

~~~

@devondespresso thanks for the WIP ask! I've actually been sitting on this for a while, so you gave me a good kick in the ass to finally finish up edits and post. 💜💜💜

[allbridgesburn]

god i wish someone would fix the wasteland timeline for me because im GOING CRAZY HERE

i need to move the plot along but WHEN DOES THE PLOT EVEN HAPPEN

when's snow taking over gaul's job? when's he becoming president? most importantly, when are they going to fuck next??? damned if i know please fix

[thecollectionsof]

a little drabble from postcards to get me in the writing mood :)

"That shirt looks nice."

Crystal laughs, looking down at the sweater Gigi gave her for her birthday before looking back up at her. “You made it!”

“No! I mean—yeah, but I like seeing you in something I made. It’s… nice.” Gigi’s cheeks glow brilliant red as she looks away, her gaze resting somewhere past her for a second.

“Oh.” Crystal feels something burning in her, something hot and electric, “I like wearing things you made for me.”

That feels like something. This feels like something.

It’s not like she has the courage to do something about it, to take this further, to poke and prod and flirt and test the boundaries of their newfound "bestie era", so she looks away to hide her blush. "It's nice," she says, parroting the words Gigi said only seconds ago. There's so much she could say, but that sums it up without pouring her heart out to her.

She doesn't say it though. She just keeps watching the person walking past the window who's walking their very excited poodle, or looking at the way the wind blows through the trees, or looking at anything but Gigi.

Gigi reaches out, lightly adjusting the way the sweater rests on her. It's quick, light adjustments, but she feels every single one. Especially a quick graze of the back of her hand against Crystal's bare side, her fingers slipping around the bottom of the sweater.

Once again, it's electric.

And then it's over.

"Okay," Gigi starts, taking a step back. Crystal lets out her breath, not that she knew she was holding it, and nods. At what, she's not sure, but it feels like the right thing to do. "Ready to go?"

Crystal nods again, clearing her throat. "Yeah," she agrees shakily, clearing her throat again, "yeah, okay, let's go."

[strawbubbysugar]

I say this as someone who always uses anon for questions but uh. I completely understand if you revoke anon privileges after that. I think you should honestly. Good luck, stay true to the story you want to tell, and block anyone who starts shit in your inbox.

Nah. I love getting anons and I don’t want to punish people who did nothing wrong for one person’s actions. If I consistently get more asks like that the. Maybe, but for now, I’m not letting one bad ask ruin everybody else’s fun.

[sammygender]

dean winchester is crazy because he acts just like 13 year old me except maybe a bit worse. but like i grew out of that (to an extent). that man is 35

[be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie]

Me and @spicymiilk are having a nocorro angst day, let me gather my thoughts and I'll share them with the troops.

[jittyjames]

i'm scared to talk about them bc every time I talk about fic plans I somehow always end up hating them and never posting bc I feel like I've overhyped them and people are going to think I'm weird and cringe and suck, BUT I'm really excited about whump: the musical and I want to post my fics now but I can't :(((((

[bhaalstemple]

i know if orin had someone who fully loved and accepted her, she would've had a worse religious crisis than durge ever did with gortash

[anghraine]

It's very weird when people talk about fandom as if fix-fic were the totality of fannish practice and also a job.

I've written some, for sure, and much of my stuff has some element of at least commenting in some way on things I find annoying or objectionable in the canon or in the discourse around it. I have no issue with fix-fic in itself. But the idea that all fandom activity is or should be about elevating flawed canons through hard work and moral rectitude is—damn, I'm not paid enough for that.

"This is a hobby" is not an excuse for bigotry, to be clear, but I swear, some people talk about fandom like its entire purpose is to be a second and particularly joyless job in which you receive nothing but the righteous glow of producing morally improving works.

[magnusmodig]

||. thor misunderstanding earthen housing norms in the modern day is SO funny to me to think about. He's doing his best, but between being from another planet with far more advanced technology (and much more "archaic" culture customs) on top of also being a PRINCE, I would imagine some normal practices and understandings of things simply don't click with him more than others.... Not because he's not smart. Thor is incredibly intelligent. ONLY because of the huge culture divide. But... that said: the concept of having neighbors who own their own land right next to yours, but the plots of land are TINY ??? absolutely crazy to him. Why aren't the plots of land BIGGER? why don't more people utilize it to farm crops???

Also don't get him STARTED on the idea - or nature of - apartments.

[sinking-into-mist]

I got back to trying to write the Olli/Aleksi fic I mentioned last(?) week, and this is basically how it's going

me: this will be a cute fluffy sfw story

o & a: but what if we kissed... and our hands started to wander... and things got a little heated...

me: sure, a bit of that sounds great 👍 just don't get too carried away!

o & a: *kissing, groaning, neck biting, slight scratching, moaning*

me: okay that's enough! let's go back to the cute fluff and wrap up this fic

o & a: no 😊

me: i won't let you continue. go to bed boys.

o & a: okay!

me: ... wait, i meant, go to bed for some cuddles and sleeping!!

o & a: lol sure 😏 *undressing each other in between heated kisses*

me: i did not see that coming

[starlooove]

He is in fact not cool with his friends killing people he just can’t do shit about it and the fact that he thinks he can do smth about (and does!) when it comes to his kids is like a major point

[six-demon-bag]

cargo is the best movie ive ever seen in my life what the hell was that other than constant openings to porn scenes we were unjustly denied

[tubatues]

“And there is nothing in this world, okay, absolutely nothing, that will ever change that. You got that?”

And Will hears his voice wavering, a physical manifestation of his walls crumbling, the floodgates opening in his heart, and his tear ducts no longer wanting to hold anything in. “I love him, Jonathan. I love him.”

And Jonathan is hugging him, holding him together because God knows Will needs to be put back together again. He’s holding him and telling him that he knows. That it’s going to be okay.

[hermitdrabbles56]

*shaking my brain* but I wanna do the writing with the words TvT