#like okay i can admit that the concept i came up with for this fic is cool as fuck but the execution is not always as id like it to be

[smoochkooks]

jeeeez sometimes I still can't get used to people telling me they think I write good and they love my stories cause I'm always soooo insecure about my writing skills and I constantly have it at the back of my head that I could have been better if I was more fluent in english

[forever-rogue]

Hello 💌 it's missing Eddie Munson hours here. Can I request a fic where the reader is the new girl in town? New to Hawkins high and accidentally sits at the hellfire table (cause obviously she doesn't know it's reserved 🤭) and gets all flustered once eddie and the members come up and tell her. All cute and fluffy ☺️

AN | I am weak for this concept!  Enjoy 🥰

Warnings | None

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 3k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You clutched at your tray nervously, looking around the cafeteria in search of some place to sit. Everyone had paired off as soon as the bell for lunch had rang and you were basically left in the dust. Most of the tables were crowded, and no one was even sparing a look in your direction. Tears pricked at the back of your eyes and threatened to well up, but you swallowed them down and started to look for an open spot. 

After a few moments of trying to make yourself look small you found a few open spots at one of the tables towards the back. With the most miniscule of sighs to yourself you took the seat at the end, and hunched in on yourself, trying to make yourself as invisible as possible. Upon settling in, you reached into your backpack and pulled out the book you were currently reading and dove in. 

It was enough to suck you and before you knew it, you were lost and off in your own little world. But then, you heard a loud throat clear among curious little titters. You startled and snapped your book shut, looking up to find several pairs of wide eyes studying you intently.

Your mouth opened and closed a few times as you tried to figure out what was going on, “ummm…hello?”

“What are you doing here?” it came out as more curious and probing rather than angry but it caused your heart to thump wildly nonetheless. He looked young and had dark, floppy hair and gangly limbs. 

“I-I couldn’t find anywhere else to sit,” you admitted sheepishly, “and no one was here so I thought it was okay. I’m so sorry-”

“Wait, you’re the new girl, aren’t you?” you turned to the boy with the dark curls under a hat; they all seemed kind but nonetheless it all made you nervous.

“Yes,” you offered them a tight-lipped smile “I’m sorry, it’s just…I’ll go so you can have your table back.”

Standing up, you tried to grab your backpack and throw it over your shoulder in order to leave and run as far away as possible. Mortifying wasn’t enough to cover how you were currently feeling. Before you could get very far, you felt a hand wrap around your wrist and stop you from getting away.

“Stay,” the voice was different from any of the others you'd heard so far, honey sweet and warm. You stopped dead in your tracks and turned around to find another stranger looking at you curiously.

"Uhh…" you were dumbfounded as you looked at the handsome boy standing in front of you. He had dark, wild curls and big brown eyes with a soft smile tugging up the corners. You looked down to where he was still looking onto you and noticed several tattoos peeking out of his shirt, "umm…"

"You're new here, right?" He asked as you nodded dumbly. You were shocked that you hadn't noticed him before - he was so different and unique that he stuck out like a sore thumb, "shit sucks. But seriously, c'mon and sit with us."

"Are you sure?" You allowed yourself to look at the boys; they looked just as shocked as you, "I don't want to intrude."

"I insist," he gave your arm a squeeze before letting go and motioning for you to sit back down. One of the boys gasped lightly as you slowly sank down in the hard plastic shirt. The boy sat down to your right, "hope you don't mind hanging out with the freaks and geeks."

"N-no," you relaxed slightly as everyone sat around as well, "not at all."

"I'm Eddie. Eddie Munson," he held his hand and you shook it, offering your name in response. Your entire face felt like it was on fire as you forced yourself to look away, "welcome to the gang!"

Alright, maybe not everyone in Hawkins was terrible.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After that first afternoon where you met Eddie and his friends, you started to feel more and more comfortable in your school and within yourself. You noticed that Dustin, Mike, and Lucas had seemed floored by how easily Eddie took to you. You didn’t think anything of it, as you had no prior knowledge of any of them to go off of. Nonetheless you appreciated all the kindness that was being thrown your way. 

The next day, however, you weren’t sure if you should just automatically go to their table or wait for further invitation. You’d brought your lunch, brown paper bag crinkled from your anxious twisting, and slowly walked to the table at the back. It hadn’t been lost on you that many people seemed to avoid their table, and a few that did walk back made some nasty comments under their breath. It hurt your heart a little bit because these were the only people that bothered to show you any kindness. 

“Hey,” Eddie’s voice pulled you from your thoughts and you looked at him with a nervous little smile. He cocked his head to the side to the chair on his right, watching as you slipped into the hard plastic, “surprised to see you here again.”

“O-oh,” your cheeks warmed under his warm gaze and you wished you could sink into the ground and melt away, “should I not be here?”

“No, no, no, I just meant…I’m surprised you’re back,” he gestured vaguely to the rest of the cafeteria and you almost squeaked when you noticed the rings on his hand. They suited him perfectly, “we’re not exactly the most popular crowd around here.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly too popular either,” you shrugged, catching his eye and exchanging a nervous chuckle, “I think you’re the first person to give me the time of day. No one else has even said anything…they all just kind of stare. I feel like a thing more than anything.”

“The people around here…are the worst,” he put his elbow on the table and rested his chin in his hand as he studied you intently, “tell me about you.”

“I don’t think there’s much to tell,” you shrugged sheepishly, popping a few crackers into your mouth in order to have an excuse to remain quiet.

“Everyone’s got a story,” you felt him nudge your knee with his under the table, “what’s yours? I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

And that was an offer you couldn’t refuse.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Over the next couple of weeks, you found yourself growing closer to the gang, but more than anything their enigmatic leader. 

It hadn't taken long to figure out the hierarchy of Hawkins High School, and it was easy to figure out that you were on the bottom of the totem pole. Compared to the other kids, seeing how they were and interacted with one another, you had no clue being part of the outcasts. They were the only ones that seemed real and genuine. 

The worst part of it, or the best depending on how you looked at the situation, was Eddie. You were drawn to him, wanting to know more and more about him, which felt dangerous. You already knew that you'd both be graduating in the spring and then leaving, and that he was on 3rd attempt at his senior year. Those two things in and of itself were more than to make you weary.

The rest of it - Eddie - was wonderful and had you feeling a type of way that wasn't possible. You liked his style, his hair, his personality - all of it. The issue was that you had no clue what he thought about you, or how he felt about you, if anything. Maybe he didn't even think about you at all, besides the hour and change he spent with you at lunch and breaks. That idea didn't settle well in your stomach, even though it had no right to. Eddie was just-

"Everything alright?" You almost slammed your locker shut as you startled at the sound of Eddie's voice. You sighed dramatically before turning around and finding him leaning lazily against another locker. He turned to you and offering you a devilish little smile that caused you to roll your eyes, affectionately of course, “what’s wrong, sunshine?”

“Edward,” you drawled out his name and he groaned at the use of his full name, “you can’t go sneaking up on people like that! I could have had a heart attack!”

“So dramatic,” he tutted, reaching over and tucking your hair behind your ear, “if you weren’t so busy daydreaming, you would have heard me calling out your name. What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“Nothing,” you blurted out way too quickly, and you swore he gave you a knowing little look, “just…stuff and things.”

“Stuff and things,” he echoed in an amused tone as you nodded, your face warming up. Despite the fact that students were all around you, loud and noisy, it suddenly felt like it was only the two of you. He had a way of doing that, you’d learned, making you feel like you were the only thing that existed when he was with you, “very descriptive.”

“I…umm, nothing in particular,” you weren’t about to admit that you’d been daydreaming about him to his face. Not voluntarily anyway. 

“Well, I was wondering if you were free tonight,” your eyes widened in surprise at his question. He laughed - nervously - and ran a hand through his dark curls. It really was such an innocent question, you were absolutely friends by this point, but it felt like it held much more weight.

“Did you need help with homework or Hellfire or…something?” there had to be a logical explanation to all of this. Surely….right? Right?

“No,” wrong. Very wrong.

“Oh…what is it then?” you squeaked at him and he grimaced for a moment. He was definitely nervous.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go see a movie and made get pizza or something after?” he was biting the inside of his cheek, finding the dirty laces of his Reeboks so interesting suddenly. Eddie Munson didn’t do dates; he didn’t get asked on them and he didn’t ask anyone else. Usually it was only girls that he dealed to that wanted to hook up, but those were quick, illicit affairs never to be spoken of again. But with you…everything had felt different right from the start.

When you remained silent for a few moments, he started to panic but then you opened and closed your mouth a few times, “j-just the two of us?”

“Yeah.”

“Like a…date?”

“Yes?” he allowed himself to steal a peek at your face and when he saw nothing but exuberant joy on your face he relaxed, “yes.”

You gnawed on your bottom lip for a moment before slowly nodding in response, your entire face felt like it was on fire, “no one’s ever asked me on a date before.”

“What?!” he turned to you now fully, pure shock and confusion on his face, “you’re not serious!”

“Eddie,” you were laughing now, a beautiful sound that went straight to his heart and often was the soundtrack of his own daydreams, “I’m being serious! No one’s even really looked at me that way.”

“Well, everyone has been so very wrong,” emboldened, he put his hand on your face and gently brushed his thumb over your cheek, “and in a way I’m glad for that because it meant I got to be the first to do it.”

“Hmm,” you hummed softly before gently wrapping your fingers around his wrist, “and to answer your question, yes, I am free. For you, I’m always free.”

“Wow,” you weren’t sure if he was talking to himself or to you, but it was endearing either way, “great - perfect. Umm, can I pick you up at seven?”

“I’ll see you at seven,” you confirmed softly, heart beating so wildly in your chest that you marveled at the fact that it wasn’t bursting through your ribcage, “don’t be late, Edward.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sunshine,” he grinned in response, “see you at seven!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were ready to go well before seven, and ended up nervously pacing around your bedroom. A slew of clothing was on your bed, as you had undergone several outfit changes before finally settling on a simple pink checkered sundress and sandals. You checked over your hair and makeup so many times you were starting to get sick of your own appearance. 

Every time you heard a car driving through the neighborhood, you pulled back the curtain to see if it was Eddie. Which was silly, considering you’d been in his van and knew what it sounded like. But still…the nerves were getting to you. 

By the time he actually pulled into your driveway, you had started reading a new book in order to occupy your mind. You’d gotten so lost in it that it took your mother knocking at your door to tell you that your little boyfriend was here. All you managed to do was groan in response as you threw your book to the side and grabbed your bag before running downstairs. Your parents had met Eddie a couple of times already, when he’d come to pick you up for school or drop you off, and surprisingly, they didn’t hate him. They liked him, knowing that the fact that he looked and dressed differently had no bearing on the type of person he was. And Eddie was a good guy, despite what a lot of Hawkins seemed to think. 

Once you got downstairs, you found Eddie near the door, standing there nervously with a small bundle of floors in his hand. He looked up as soon as he heard you softly calling his name; his brain practically melted at the sight of you. You were always pretty - the prettiest in his kind - but this was just another level up from that. 

“H-hi,” he stammered, holding up his hand in a meek little wave before remembering he had the flowers. You took a few steps closer to him, leaving just a little bit of distance between your bodies, “you look lovely.”

“Thank you,” the two of you exchanged shy smiles, “you look good too, Eddie.”

“Thanks,” his stomach fluttered with butterflies; no one had ever said that to him before, “these are for you.”

“You didn’t have to…they’re so pretty!” you gently took the flowers from him, but before you could stop yourself you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. You stopped when you noticed the pink, glittery gloss print you left, but the two of you giggled as you wiped it away, “want to know something else, Eddie?”

“Tell me,” he trailed after you like a lovesick puppy as you walked to the kitchen to grab a vase for your flowers. He watched your every move like a hawk, noticing how you did everything with gentle reverence; it was the same way you always treated him.

“No one has ever given me flowers before either,” you set them on the counter, admiring how pretty they were, knowing they were from Eddie made them that much better, “you keep surprising me without even knowing what you’re doing.”

“I like surprising you,” he admitted softly, and you vowed in your head then and there that you were doing the same thing for him, “I like seeing that smile on your face.”

“Stop,” you gasped lightly before trying to hide your face in your hands, feeling yourself grow warmer and warmer with each passing moment. He shook his head and gently pulled your hands away so he could look at you, “Eddie!”

“I mean it,” he insisted softly, and you knew that he was being honest. You nodded softly and felt him reach for your hand, “c’mon, I have…well another surprise for you.”

“Another?!”

“Well, either we could go see the movie and then get dinner as planned…or we can go on adventure,” he suggested and you practically lit up, “I figured since it’s Friday and if you’re okay with being out a little late, it could be a lot of fun.”

“And let me guess, I would not be privy to any of these things we’re doing until we’re doing them?” your voice was soft and teasing but Eddie nodded eagerly. How very classic of him, “well, just how am I supposed to say no to that?”

“You don’t….”

“I don’t,” you agreed and Eddie cheered happily, already gently pulling you towards the door. He looked like an eager puppy more than anything and his enthusiasm was infectious.

“Get ready for an evening of excitement, m’lady!” he opened the door and brandished his arm, and all you could was to grin at him. He was such a dork but, you were starting to quickly realize, he was your dork, “you are about to embark on adventure!”

“I couldn’t think of anything better,” and your words made his heart melt, “c’mon m’lord, let’s go!”

At the foot of your steps he paused for a moment to look at you. You grew nervous, but as soon as he leaned in to gently kiss you, everything felt right. You kissed him back before he could pull away and you were both grinning like fools.

You’d never been more glad for sitting in the wrong spot before.

[eightyuh]

That Penn art is so good! ❤️ It's a great fic, too. @ratcatcher0325 does fantastic character arcs.

So... have you transitioned from 'I just found out what G/t is' to 'Okay, I might have accidentally joined this community.' ?

I'm curious to hear your thoughts because G/t has so many potential settings, concepts and vibes, that I think tons more people could get into the 'fandom' (actually more of a trope).

But one of the major things driving people away is the mixed association with NSFW/kink stuff. Even the most wholesome G/t fluff feels like something weird I have to hide from friends/family. 😞

Feel free not to answer: but what were your initial impressions about the G/t fandom? How did they change as you learned more?

(first of all, this is like a really good ask-- I appreciate your insight on the matter haha ... what with me accidentally creating Wick's End as a G/T comic and coming into all this as an outsider)

Thank you!! It was a nice read; they did a good job writing. Unfortunately for me, I can't just enjoy media without analyzing it. It was interesting to see how another author wrote a story intentionally as G/T - setting up scenarios ;) and indulging in the element of physical contact as a love language.

While I hesitate to claim membership to any fandom as an identity, yes, I would say I am a G/T enjoyer among you. :) I appreciate how flexible it can be used to express themes like emotions, protection, vulnerability, disability, etc.

I'll admit, I was initially cautious because I did suspect it was a kink-oriented. As time went on, I came to see that G/T makes efforts to separate itself from the perverted sect off in another corner. The genuine feelings of earnestness, wholesomeness, and shared sense of vulnerability is what won me over. I love that understanding and taking care of one another is a foundation within the G/T community. Really, I can't think of the last internet community I came across and thought positively of-- if that means anything haha. That doesn't mean it doesn't have total weirdos too lol. I even lurk in the GTCon Discord VC occasionally while I work on Wick's End as a sort of parallel-play motivator >/////<

. . .

The reason I still don't tag Wick's End as G/T is because I don't want people reading this story thinking that was my intention. YES it is G/T, tropes and all, but I did not write it with the intention to indulge in that sort of fantasy. It's meant to be a storytelling aid that illustrates chronic burnout... which otherwise would be an invisible condition. I don't want outsiders to mistake this as written for a kink / community they don't belong to -- and at the same time -- I also don't want G/T community members to misinterpret it as fiction written specifically to entertain the trope.

I hope breaking this up in paragraphs + adding a pic made it less of an eye-sore haha. Thank you for asking such a personalized question!

[harrysgoldenbum]

Sleepy girls

~unedited~

no warnings, just plain and simple fluff, and husbandrry and dadrry

Harry came home after spending the morning at the studio, he had a quick meeting with Jeff in regards to the album he is preparing to release in the next few months.

It was around lunchtime, when he walked into the house. He was expecting to hear his daughter babbling as Jiya preps lunch for the bab. But the house was silent. His daughter, Veera, had just learned how to walk, creating as much havoc as possible. She particularly enjoys making her mum and dad chase after her.

He drops his car keys in the key bowl by the garage door, and slid his shoes off. Calling out his wife's name, Harry went to search for the two girls.

As he turned the corner into the living room, he sees his wife laying on the yoga mat in the sunshine that is streaming from the sliding doors that lead to the backyard. Next to her was a smaller yoga mat laid out. Harry got it for Veera because she would often join him when he would meditate in the morning or join Jiya when she would do her stretches.

Jiya had started yoga when she was pregnant with Veera, to help with the back pain the additional weight caused. Her dark hair is in a messy braid and she is wearing some biker shorts and one of his old shirts. And on her back was his one-year-old daughter. Her chubby cheek was smooshed against her mumma's back. Veera's curly black hair was an unkempt mess. She probably wasn't in the mood to let her mum brush it out this morning. Her fist clenched the shirt and her legs were on the sides of Jiya's body, hugging her ribcage. Jiya's head rests against the back of her hands, and her ankles were crossed. Her black rose and fell deeply, telling Harry that they have been asleep on the floor for some time.

The sight made Harry pause. A wave of contentment washed over him as he observed his girls sleep in the natural warmth the sun provided. Turning on his heel, Harry treks to his office and pulls out his camera. Walking back to the living room, Harry takes the time to take a couple of pictures of his wife and baby.

Leaving them be, Harry moves to the kitchen to start lunch, he knows when his girls wake from their nap, they are going to be hungry.

It was around when he was halfway done with the meal he was preparing, that Harry felt a tiny body collide with his legs. Veera's chunky arms wrapped around his knee, her head tilted up to look at her dadda. "Hi princess. Sleep good?"

Her cheek rubbed against his trousers as she nodded her head. Harry dropped his hand to the top of her head and attempted to push her curls back and out of her face. With a grouchy look, she lifts her hand and rearranges her hair to her liking. With a light laugh, Harry bends down and picks her up. Resting her head on his shoulder, she quietly watches Harry finish making lunch. It's just a few minutes later he hears Jiya walk into the kitchen.

"Smells good, baby." Jiya whispers, as she comes up to him and presses up against his side. Pushing up on her toes, she presses a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"Hmm... sleep well?"

"Backs a little sore with Princess here sleeping on it." she admits with a chuckle.

With a hum, Harry looks at his quiet daughter. She's a bit like Jiya when she first wakes up from sleep. Cuddly and quiet. Turning is attention back to his wife, with a suggestive tone, Harry promises, "Give you a nice massage later tonight, how's that?"

~~~~

okay so for a while I've wanted to write a desi character x harry fic, mainly for representation (bc I can't find many) and because I wanted to. anyways this idea randomly struck my mind. I had another concept that I've tried to write but it never worked out the way I wanted it to so maybe this is where i can start it

anyways, please let me know what you think. reblog and like :)

p.s. for those of you interested Veera means 'warrior princess' (which is why Harry calls her 'princess' for short and if I end up continuing this series, I'll touch more on that )

~~~

masterlist // more of harry and jiya

[gumnut-logic]

Sweetapple Slice 9

Alexander Sweetapple series

This isn't much because I'm tired and it's nearly midnight after a very long day, so don't expect much.

Inspired by the slightly evil @womble1 How dare they dangle a concept in front of me like that. Things like this happen - though honestly, I don't think it is as good as it could have been if I had half a brain, but eh, it be fic.

Sometime in the future, I hope you enjoy.

-o-o-o-

Alex walked across the room and opened the huge window, letting in the tropical breeze.

The scents of Tracy Island were heady and he found himself breathing in deep. It helped calm his heart.

A bird squawked somewhere nearby and the ocean hissed beyond the dense pōhutukawa trees.

“Thank you, love.”

Alex turned back to Virgil, sitting up in bed, still pale, but so much better than he had been.

His partner must have seen something in Alex’s expression, because he gestured with one hand for Alex to return to him.

Alex didn’t hesitate, crawling across the bed to carefully slide in beside him, avoiding the healing injury in Virgil’s left thigh. He tried to ignore the yellowing bruises and healing abrasions scattered across Virgil’s bare chest, still hesitant to touch, afraid he might hurt him.

Virgil being Virgil, grabbed him with his right arm and drew him in close, kissing his hair. “You’re not going to hurt me. Stop worrying.”

Alex grunted, not willing to admit how much Virgil’s sudden injury and following illness had scared him.

One day they were planning a relaxing dinner in Sydney, of all places. Planning to watch the sun go down over the Harbour Bridge. Then half way through the afternoon, John had called, his voice parched.

Thunderbird One hit Māhia at speed and Alex had been airborne, halfway to London before he could knock two neurons together.

He’d never been to London before.

He still hadn’t really. He’d only been to that hospital, that room, with his seriously ill lover surrounded by family, not knowing if he would ever see those beautiful chocolate eyes ever again.

Scott was a man possessed.

Virgil had mentioned his big brother’s passion for his family. Through Alex’s own terror, he saw the man go from the calm professional to the desperate big brother.

Their father did his best to see to the eldest, but whatever he tried never seemed to be enough.

As for Alex…the days were filled with fear.

“I’m getting better, love. Please stop thinking about it.” Virgil drew Alex’s head down to his shoulder, stroking his hair gently.

Alex leant up and kissed his jawline.

He, too, was shirtless and Virgil’s warmth, both physical and spiritual, seeped in through Alex’s skin.

“What do you want to do today?” They had recently finished breakfast. Alex was ever so happy to see Virgil’s appetite return. He truly was getting better.

“I was thinking of doing a little knitting. Two’s stocks are getting low.” Virgil shifted a little where he sat.

Alex frowned. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Another shift. “Could you do me a favour?”

Alex sat up. “Of course.”

“There’s a bag, green, in that cupboard, second shelf.”

Sliding off the bed once again, Alex did as Virgil asked and found the bag. It was obviously a knitting bag. Metal needles clicked together as he picked it up and several balls of yarn peeked up through its drawstring top. Alex brought it back to the bed. “You never mentioned you knit.”

A half-smile. “It’s a thing.” Out came scarlet needles and a bright gold yarn. “Bit of a tradition.”

As he was speaking, Virgil started expertly casting on stitches.

Alex crawled back onto the bed, ever fascinated by what his love was capable of. “You are so much.”

Virgil stopped mid-motion, frowning just a little. “In what way?”

“Every time I think I know all your interests, you pop up with another one, and to top it all off, you’re proficient in all of them.”

A snort. “You can talk.”

“Yes, I’m an engineer, but that is all I am, Virgil. You? You are an engineer, a bloody brilliant one, mind you. A musician, an artist, a rescue operative and medic. You are so talented and skilled in so many professions…how are you possible?”

An arched eyebrow was pointed in his direction. “You are most certainly much more than just an engineer, Alex.” He reached up and stroked Alex’s arm. “So much more.”

Alex gave him the side eye, ever sceptical. “So what are you making?”

Virgil stared at him a moment before giving in and looking down at the mess of gold yarn in his lap. “Fish for a fish.”

“You’re making goldfish for Gordon? Why?”

“Because this time I was the one who was injured.”

“What?”

Virgil sighed. “We have a thing.”

Alex waited.

And waited. “A thing?”

“Gordon was seriously injured once. He needed some…motivation. So I taught him to knit.”

Blink.

Virgil obviously took that as a question. “He told me it was my turn to make fish.”

This was obviously another one of those Tracy-things Alex was never quite going to understand. The five brothers were a very closely knit bunch, pun intended, and sometimes they did things that defied explanation.

And this was likely one of them.

Alex sighed and curled up beside Virgil, prepared to sit beside him no matter what the man wanted to do. The last week had been hell and he thought that he had lost the one he loved. If that man now wanted to knit random gold fish for his quirky brother, he could knit as much as he liked.

Alex was just happy to have him safe.

As Virgil began to hum, relaxing into what he was doing, Alex let himself smile.

It truly was a beautiful sound.

-o-o-o-

[bratzforchris]

Hiii, hope your day is going good :) Do you think you can write something similar to your Thanksgiving Luke fic but with Calum? Please?

Unhappy Halloween

❃

Summary: Calum takes enjoying candy at Halloween a little too far

Pairing: Calum x gender neutral reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 901

A/N: I changed the prompt a bit to fit my motivation, but it's still the same concept :)

❃

Ever since you had told him you would be celebrating Halloween, Calum had been beyond excited. Growing up in Australia, he hadn’t had much experience with the holiday. At least, not the way American children did. Therefore, he had waited anxiously for October 31st, and it was finally, finally here. You two had decided to be a vampire couple to go to the Halloween party being thrown at your friend’s house, which in your opinion, was absolutely adorable. 

Before you even got out the door to head to the party, Calum was sneaking a few pieces of chocolate out of the bowl that you had set outside of your apartment for trick or treaters. 

“Cal!” You exclaimed as you caught him out of the corner of your eye. “Those are for the kids!”

“Sorry,” he mumbled sheepishly, shoving a chocolate in his mouth. “I just like sweets.”

“I know you do.” You said, rolling your eyes playfully and kissing his cheek. 

By the time you two arrived at your friend’s house, the party was in full swing, with lots of loud music and decorations. At the front door, there was a bowl of candy with a cute sign, urging guests to take a few pieces. You declined, instead waiting for the drinks and desserts in the house. Calum, however, did not. He stuck his hand into the bowl, grabbing a few pieces of candy before following you into the house. 

Your friend had truly gone all out, decorating everything with cobwebs, plastic spiders, and even a fog machine. On their dining room table was a large potluck full of Halloween foods. There were a few savory items, but most of them were sweets and candies. You watched as your boyfriend’s eyes went wide, surveying the table. 

“Is this American Halloween every year?” he asked. 

You nodded, watching him already gravitate towards the table. “We’re all addicted to sugar.” You joked playfully. 

Calum didn’t seem to register your words as he loaded up his plate with candy, cookies, and a cupcake. “Okay, Halloween is definitely up there as one of the best holidays.” he stated. 

You giggled and took a few sweets yourself, leading him over to where your friends were sitting on the couch. The conversation amongst your friends and Calum came easily, making it easy to pop a candy or two into his mouth as he listened to their wild stories from your college days. 

“These cupcakes are good. Have you tried them?” You said, offering your boyfriend a mini cake. 

You hadn’t yet realized the amount of sugar he had already consumed and put the treat onto his plate, smiling happily. Despite feeling rather full and slightly “buzzed” from the amount of sugar he had consumed, Calum popped the cupcake into his mouth. You looked so happy and eager to celebrate the holiday with him that Calum couldn’t just tell you no. 

Around eleven, you yawned sleepily, snuggling into Calum’s side. “You ready to head home, babe?”

He also nodded, beginning to feel the effects the sugar was having on his body. He wouldn’t tell you, though. It was late and you had had such a great night that he didn’t want to ruin it for you by admitting that he might’ve eaten a bit too much. “Mhm.” he smiled, putting on a smile for you. 

Once you had reached the car, you became more alert since you had to drive. You noticed that Calum was quieter than usual, leaning his head against the window. “You okay, babe?” You asked him, cocking a brow. 

“Yep.” he said shortly, but not unkindly. 

“You’re being awfully quiet…” You said softly, rubbing his thigh with your hand. 

Calum bit his lip, deciding he had to tell you. The pain was getting to be too much and he just wanted to curl up in bed with you and have you rub his belly. “My stomach hurts…” he said softly. 

“Awww, I’m sorry, babe,” You pouted. “Too much candy?”

He nodded his head softly, wrapping an arm around his stomach. “Can we cuddle when we get home?” 

You cooed, patting his thigh gently. “Of course, babe. We’re about five minutes away.”

Calum leaned his head against the window for the rest of the drive until you finally pulled into the driveway. You helped him inside, rubbing his back gently, before going to the kitchen and heating up a hot water bottle for him. By the time you returned, Calum was curled up on the couch, shirtless and in sweatpants. He had discarded the costume–most likely because of the tight pants–but in your opinion, he still looked adorable. 

“I got you a heating pack, baby.” You said softly, climbing onto the couch with him. 

“Thank you.” he gave you a soft smile, immediately holding it to his stomach and taking in the warmth. 

You nuzzled into his side, your hand on top of the hot water bottle. “I’m sorry you don’t feel well.” You said quietly. 

“Kinda my fault.” he giggled and then winced slightly. 

“Was your first Halloween good, though?” You asked, removing the hot pack to rub his tummy. 

Calum nodded quickly, a smile on his face despite the pain. “It was amazing. I got to spend it with you, duh,” he said, pulling a slightly goofy face. “I just ate too much sugar.”

“I can tell. I love you, Calum. Happy Halloween.” 

[rockyroadkylers]

WIP Wednesday!

I was tagged by @ssmtskw and @littlemisskittentoes this time! (both your fics look SO GOOD)

I'm really excited this week because. Okay, listen. I started a new WIP. I had, like, five already, but we were talking in the server last week about how there are almost no "Alex fell first" fics, which is kind of understandable because it's hard to come up with a scenario where it would be him instead of Henry, BUT! I was thinking about it a couple days ago, and I swear, it was an actual lightbulb moment.

Everyone who's read the book knows Alex had a massive crush on Henry way before he realized it for himself, and I'm convinced that crush goes all the way back to the days of J14 magazine. I mean, come on, sneaking into June's room to touch a picture of Henry's hair? Multiple times? 😂 Alex, bless your heart, babe.

Anyway, that led my train of thought to Alex getting snubbed at Rio, and the whole concept of unrequited crushes, and then came the lightbulb moment: Hanahaki AU. I've seen a few where Henry has it, but only, like, one where Alex does. And now there will be another! This is not the kind of vibe I usually go for with my writing, but it's been fun to branch out!

It's, um, slightly evil (big whumpy angst vibes), as I have already been told several times by multiple people in the server who have seen snippets, but I'm having so much fun writing it. So, here's a snippet from my newest WIP, which will either be titled "i picked the petals, he loves me not" OR "come and meet me in my garden"

---

Alex has been snubbed by political peers plenty of times before, and he would be probably snubbed by plenty more, but for some reason this rejection had hurt a hell of a lot more than any other. His heart had dropped into his stomach when Henry turned away from him, with that look on his face like if he didn’t get away from Alex fast enough, he might give him fleas.

The thing is (and it’s kind of embarrassing to admit, even to himself), Alex used to look up to Henry. Until pretty recently, as a matter of fact.

Recently, as in, about two hours ago.

He’d always been aware of Prince Henry as a general concept. The royal family is always in the news for some reason or another, so Alex grew up seeing candid shots of Henry with his parents and siblings in magazine spreads, in waiting rooms and grocery store check-outs. But he can still remember the first time he saw a picture of Henry in one of June’s magazines where he hadn’t been with the rest of his family, just featured on his own in one of those locker-sized tear-out posters, with his name printed across the page in big block lettering and a little blurb about his hobbies in the corner. Henry had looked so bright, and happy, and full of life, and easy-going. Alex had been maybe a little bit obsessed with that picture for… a solid two years. Though his obsession with the boy in the picture ended up lasting much longer.

For all the fucking good it did him, in the end.

How does the saying go? Never meet your heroes. Alex gets it, now.

If Henry really is the reason he’s spending his evening coughing up flowers instead of getting wasted at the diving finals with his sister and best friend, Alex doesn’t know if he should be madder at Henry for being a dick, or at himself for being naive enough to believe they could be friends.

---

I think I've already seen some of these people's posts on my dash today, but I'm gonna go ahead and tag @read-and-write-, @suseagull04, @affectionatelyrs, @inexplicablymine, and @anincompletelist!

[museqmeg]

Reporter’s Notes - Chapter Six: Earrings

___________________________________________________________________

A vashmeryl fic

Author’s Note:

Another little fanart inspiration by @aleikats . I thought this concept was so cute!

___________________________________________________________________

Dinner was a jovial affair. With everyone freshened up, bellies full of warm food, and with the promise of sleeping in a bed, spirits were high. There were also spirits being passed around the table.

Roberto had made the decision as the senior (in appearance) member of the group to purchase a bottle of whiskey. He came back from the bar with the bottle and four glasses before slamming them on their table, glass clinking. “Drinks on me! We deserve to relax a little before God knows what gets sucked into our Typhoon.”

Vash gave a sheepish grin and nervous chuckle saying, “Yeah… sorry about that. I can’t seem to catch a break.”

“It doesn’t help, blondie, that you seem to have a death wish,” Wolfwood retorted, tapping the ashes of his cigarette into the ashtray on the table. “It's a good thing I’m here to do some damage control and clean up after you.”

Vash just looked at the Undertaker with his held sheepish grin.

Roberto was pouring out everyone’s shots when he said, “Before you get on my case, newbie, about ‘being on the job,’ this is outside of normal business hours. Plus, if we get the Stampede liquored up here enough, we’ll probably get some good information out of him for our article. Little personal trick of the trade,” Roberto winked at her.

Vash had the decency to look a little worried before nervously laughing it off.

Meryl huffed, “Fine… but don’t go too hard. The last thing I want to do is be chauffeuring a bunch of hungover crybabies tomorrow.”

“No promises, little lady,” Wolfwood said as he picked up his glass and raised it, “Here’s to the hope that we get to July with little to no incidents.”

“That’s a pretty tall order, given everything we’ve already been through,” said Roberto. He just shrugged saying, “Here’s hoping,” and tossed back his shot.

Vash just smiled at Meryl raising his glass, she raised hers too and watched as Wolfwood threw his back, then Vash, and Roberto was already pouring his next round. She tossed hers back and was met with that familiar burning sensation of the alcohol going down her throat. She tried to hide her cough, but Wolfwood seized the opportunity to tease her.

“Geez, shortie. Can you not handle a drink at all?” He poked her in the ribs.

“She was the ‘top of her class’ at November University, I doubt she’s had more than beer and some fruity drinks in her time,” chuckled Roberto. “She got rip-roaring drunk back at Jeneora Rock after only one ale.”

“I did not!” She shot back. “I was maybe a little buzzed.”

“Like hell you were, your speech was all slurred and you were wobbling in your chair like a toddler,” Roberto stated. “I even had Rosa ask if you were old enough to drink since it hit you so hard.”

Meryl just glowered at him. Angry because she knew he was a little right. She didn’t want to admit it, but her size made it difficult for her to tolerate even the most acceptable of alcoholic portions. She had drinks with friends and the occasional party while at university, but she never built a tolerance to the stuff.

Vash spoke up, “It’s okay, Meryl. I don’t hold my alcohol well either.”

“Seriously, needle-noggin? You’re the tallest one here. It’s gotta take quite a few drinks to get you good and tipsy, no?” Wolfwood smirked at him.

“Only about two or three.” Shrugged Vash. “I think I’m sensitive to the stuff… I get kind of silly.”

“Silly, how?” Asked Roberto. “Do we need to attach a leash to you?”

Vash raised his right hand to scratch the back of his head saying, “Probably not? The farthest I got was about a quarter ile from the town I was at. I got drunk enough to stupidly prove that I could break a thomas that was giving the innkeeper a hard time. I say I only got a quarter of an ile away because that’s where the bird dumped me… not one of my finest moments.” Vash chuckled at the memory.

Roberto took another shot saying, “We’re going to need a leash.” He looked around the inn.

Meryl was feeling pretty good after her first shot, inhibitions slipping when she blurted, “You should ask him about his earring!”

Vash shot her a look of betrayal as Wolfwood asked, “What’s this about his flashy jewelry?”

“He had his ear pierced on a dare, another drunk incident, and liked it so much he decided to keep it.” She giggled at the memory of him flicking it in the sunlight at her when he told her the story. “He really likes it.”

Vash winced and took another shot. “Alright Meryl, your turn for another shot.” His grin was devious, as if daring her. She knew she shouldn’t take the bait, given her low alcohol tolerance, but she was feeling so good. Vash poured her glass and she quickly drank it down to prove she wasn’t going to back down.

“Easy newbie.” Roberto said. “I can’t find one leash, let alone two. Undertaker, you’re going to have to help me keep watch of these lost puppies if they get out of hand.”

“No promises, gramps. I kinda want to see what happens. And… maybe I wanna cut loose too.” He grinned devilishly.

“I’m regretting this already…” groaned Roberto.

“I know!” Meryl chirped. She shuffled off her chair, feeling extremely bold albeit wobbly, and walked around Roberto to Vash before plopping in his lap.

“M-Meryl!” Vash squeaked, his face full of surprise. She was still wobbling, so he held her in place, hands resting on her hips.

“Just hold still, I’ve got a leash.” She unclasped the hoop from his left ear and then removed her right earring. She clumsily put her earring through his pierced ear and fastened it before replacing her empty right ear with his hoop. He was watching her intently.

“There!” She said triumphantly, hands on his chest. “Now you can’t go far because I have your precious vanity hoop and you have half of my graduation gift. You better not run off with it!”

“That goes for you too, Meryl.” He countered as he repeated the same flicking gesture to his earring now on her ear as he did during their coffee “interview.” She glowered at his grin and hopped off his lap, returning to her chair.

————————————

The rest of the evening got as silly as Vash said it would be. They had a game of darts and despite the amount of alcohol consumed and Vash’s proclamation that he was a lightweight, he was deadly accurate and beat them all at the game.

Another bottle of whiskey was downed before Vash took notice of a piano in the corner and rushed over to play. In a very “concert pianist” manner, Vash stood over the piano bench and whooshed his coat over as if he had tuxedo tails before hammering out a bawdy tune. In Meryl’s inebrious state, she gaped at him in awe. He played better than most, even with the silly folk song he was pounding out. He seemed to be a magnet of joviality and it got the rest of the inn up and dancing.

Roberto took that as his cue to duck out, yelling over ruckus, “Old drunko’s going to bed! You kids behave!” He waved the half empty whiskey bottle over his head in ‘goodnight’ and went up the stairs, taking the bottle with him.

“What?!” Asked Vash over the crowd. He was still playing and someone had tied a scarf around his head, making his already spikey hair stand straight up.

“Gramps went to bed!” Wolfwood hollered back at him. He looked over at Meryl, doing her best to stay upright in her chair before proclaiming, “We’re dancing, little lady.”

“Wha-!“ was all Meryl could get out before Wolfwood scooped her up and into his arms. He started dancing and twirling her around, laughing loudly. He was holding her so high against him that her feet didn’t touch the ground. She was literally being swung around like a doll! Her head was spinning before, but this was too much. Between the heat of Wolfwood’s body, the strong odor of nicotine, and the spinning, Meryl started to feel her stomach roil. “You oaf! Put me down!”

Luckily, or maybe not so luckily, Vash took notice of her pale face and hollered to Wolfwood, “Hey! Bring Meryl over here! She can sing us a tune!”

Wolfwood swung and danced her over Vash. It was a miracle that she didn’t vomit on Wolfwood before he stopped and set her down.

“I’m gonna take a smoke break since you got shortie,” Wolfwood said to Vash before walking to a corner of the room and lighting a cigarette. He may not be actively participating, but he wasn’t going to miss Meryl’s performance.

Vash finished out the final phrase of the piece to give her time to get her bearings.

Everything was still spinning when she heard Vash ask, “So what song are you going to sing for us, Meryl?”

“I never agreed to that!” She said, swaying. She turned to glare down at him on the bench, but quickly realized he was eye level to her just sitting. ‘That’s right, he was a lanky giant.’ She mused, adjusting her gaze to meet his eyes.

He was grinning goofily at her before addressing the crowd, “What should we have the little lady sing?” Meryl glowered at him for using Wolfwood’s nickname for her. He never did that!

Shouts and suggestions came a-plenty before a title caught Vash’s ear and he started to plunk out the intro. “You know this one, right Meryl?”

“Yes,” she slurred, “but I didn’t agree to sing.”

“Aww come on, you’re gonna upset the audience,” he pouted.

“Yeah girly!”

“Sing us something pretty!”

“They’re clearly your audience and you just enjoy hamming it up!” She said looking disgruntled at him.

“Guilty!” He chirped, vamping four bars of the intro to give her time to join in. “Please?” He looked especially pathetic.

“Fine…” Her inhibitions were all but gone.

He grinned ecstatically as she began to sing. Meryl didn’t have a bad singing voice and she knew it. Growing up she was part of her school’s choir and even participated in her university choral ensemble. Sometimes she even got solos. She hated to admit it, but it was fun making music with Vash. He was a lively duet partner and he made it easy for her to answer back his phrasing. She was just getting into it when a loud “My turn! Woo!” came from Vash and he started singing loudly with her… completely off pitch.

His singing was all unpolished enthusiasm and raucous energy in his tenor range, completely at odds with his piano proficiency. Meryl stopped singing to gawk at him. He had not a care in the world and the effects of the alcohol were so apparent, his voice was cracking through the registers. Wolfwood guffawed loudly at Vash and Meryl gave a quick laugh at his performance before joining back in.

“Hey! Shut it blondie! We can’t hear the little lady!” Wolfwood hollered through his hands. Vash bashfully grinned and promptly stopped singing, focusing back on the piano.

They finished their duet. Their audience, clapping and cheering. Meryl smiled widely and went to take a bow… with a little too much enthusiasm. She all but fell forward before a forearm came around her waist and yanked her back.

“Whoa, Meryl!” Vash giggled. He got her upright, but didn’t release his arm around her. She still swayed against his arm and her eyes started to get droopy. Vash felt her unsteadiness and scooped her up under her knees with his prosthetic arm.

“Alright folks, that’s it for our star tonight!” He said, standing up from his bench with Meryl in his arms princess style. He nodded to Wolfwood who nodded back. A mutual understanding that their small traveling companion had reached her limit for the night and it was time to get her to bed.

—————————————————-

Vash carried her up to her room, Meryl half dazed and mumbling incoherent nonsense.

He looked down at her, “What was that, Meryl?

“You sing awful,” she slowly articulated. The four syllables taking everything she had to get out.

“Haha, I actually can sing, but I didn’t want to overshadow your performance.” He grinned down at her, pulling her blankets back and laying her down.

He was pulling her shoes off when she replied, “How very considerate of you.” Her eyes were getting heavier.

He just chuckled as he pulled the blankets over her.

“Hey Vash…”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t forget that you can’t run off. You have my earring…” She trailed off, sleep quickly overtaking her.

He smiled down warmly at her. He reached out with his right hand and stroked her hair, it was so soft. “As long as you don’t run off with mine,” he answered. He gave his hoop on her ear a little touch before straightening up.

He was shutting her door as he said, “Goodnight, Meryl.”

Her soft breathing was her only response. He just smiled to himself as the door latched.

—————————————————————————————————————

Well, that was a fun chapter to write. I got to use some of my professional music experience for some bits.

Their little duet was inspired by this hilarious video.

[twilightarc-gm]

For the recent writing ask game, I'd love to know your thoughts about 10, 12, 13, 23, 30, 49! Or if that's too many feel free to just pick a couple, I'm not sure if there's supposed to be a limit per ask!

Hello my dear mutual and fellow Jiang Cheng enjoyer! 💜💜💜

Okay but seriously how funny would that be to get an ask and they're like "1-50 pls" on a lark? 😂

Thank you so much for playing, btw, very exciting! 🤗

10. How do you decide what to write?

As in, how do I decide what's going to be a WIP and what just stays a daydream: The more niche it is the more likely I will end up writing it because I write stories for me. So, Top Priority of getting me fed is to write the stories I want to see. I check the relevant tags on Ao3, see there's like... nothing for my idea, despair, then open LibreOffice.

As in how do I decide which WIP to work on? Literally I use the carl-bot /choose function on any Discord server that has it. 😂😂 As long as I am writing something, that's good enough.

12. Are there any tropes you used to dislike but have grown on you?

🤔 Hmm based on the fanlore.org site I think a trope I once was meh about that I have come to like is Genderbend. But then I tried writing a bit of it and decided I liked some things about it after all. 😅

13. Are there any tropes you used to like but don’t anymore?

😓 Oof yeah, you know, I used to be cool with hatesex/enemyslash tropes but somewhere along the line I got real boring, and decided I have way more fun if the characters actually like each other on an emotional level, even if they're hard pressed to admit it. Now it just squicks me out to see it, or any pairing where I can't conceive of a canon-verse way for it to happen that wouldn't just be hatesex/enemyslash.

23. What’s a trope, AU, or concept you’ve never written, but would like to?

One day I will write a casefic! I don't even have a WIP for it but ONE DAY it will happen and it will be SHORT and FUN and I WILL NOT spend 40k+ on it. 😤😤😤

30. Have you ever written something that was out of your comfort zone? If so, what was it, and how did it affect your approach to writing fic thereafter?

🙃 Haaaaa... well... my comfort zone is long format fic heavy in description, action, plot, world building. Outside of that is... snappy dialogue, humor, short fic. I think the closest I came to outside my comfort zone is my chengxuan fic at 9.2k words but the dialogue isn't that interesting. I also have my recently scrapped WIP "Cringe Fic" (referenced in question 12) that was me working through writing a bunch of tags/tropes I otherwise can't read, to see if I can write it in a way I would like to read.

Writing the chengxuan one-shot didn't really do anything for me besides get me started publishing for the MDZS fandom. It was a fluke, in my opinion.

Cringe Fic had the bonus of expanding the base of ideas I am willing to try and write for, e.g. genderbend.

49. What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you’re up for it!

🙄 Okay so don't laugh (you can laugh), but as it turns out, I am writing a genderbend that I actually intend to publish when it's done. I noticed that there are only 24 works for Female Mò Xuányǔ tag, 19 of which are wang/xian. None of which are chengxian. I always wanted to explore canon Wei Wuxian actually experiencing dysphoria in his new body and making Mo Xuanyu female I feel will heighten that further. I'm thinking I want him to ping-pong between feeling everything is too different but also finding joy in what he has now and settle somewhere in the genderfluid realm of dealing with his 2nd life.

And of course I want it to be chengxian because 🤤 oh wow the drama there...

It's still in the very rough draft stages but here's a part that's interesting to me.

Wèi Wúxiàn traces the trail of brighter crimson to his arms. One sleeve is a clean bright vermilion, the other is soaked nearly black. “Not good,” he croaks with a voice that isn’t his. It’s a higher pitch, even for how ragged and torn it sounds. “Fuck.” Immediately, his good hand comes up to his throat that’s not his throat, where his questing fingertips fail to catch the presence of a knot that should bob as he swallows air. The same hand he trails down slowly, dreadfully, between his collarbones to his sternum, where a narrow, soft, valley goes undisguised by the vermilion robes wrapped around him. He looks down to his chest. Not his chest. His foggy mind catches up and grades the new look. Modest but present. Then his thoughts race ahead and the pins and needles of sensation wash away in the heat of panic. Wèi Wúxiàn spreads his knees and his hand drops down, but he knows.

🧡🙌 This has been fun! See you on my Dash!🙏🧡

...Or even... in my DMs 😉

[stillmumu]

can you talk about the "everyone is saying i corrupted her, luxx" line bc it ripped my heart out. i wanna know how that lime came to you, if it came before the scene or if you had to work to find it.

also about dtie in general, how did the idea start? did you want to do sth with popstars, or was there a single mental image that you needed to write s story around?

aa ofc babes!! here's the full line:

“Everyone’s saying I corrupted her, Sasha,” Anetra hears herself say.

the wording popped into my head as suddenly as anetra blurted it. 'corrupted' bc it feels like an echo of shit anetra would've heard over & over growing up--queerness as sin, acting on said queerness as a ruining you can't come back from.

'hears herself say' came as an add on. i wrote the line without it, but it didn't quite feel right, since at this point in the au she's still ignoring her religious guilt in favour of being the proud&out queer rep in media that her fans need.

then i realised, of course, it's not right bc she'd have to be disassociating to let that slip. she'd never admit how/why that narrative would be immensely triggering to her at this point in the fic, except on impulse, & bc of how subconsciously she finds sasha's presence comforting.

DTIE in general was birthed bc i've always wanted to do something w/popstars. they distill their personhood into a single image/idea moreso than any other type of entertainer, and on such a huge scale. i think that's fascinating. it's such an unnatural way to live.

i also had a crystal clear image of anetra sitting in one of those huge black cars w/the tinted windows, prepping herself for the swarm outside. it had this anxiety & somber dread about it, like she didn't want to turn the performance on, like she was losing herself a bit more every time she did it.

i was like ah okay, this is how i'll finally write this concept, then. i have to help this girl fjskjds.

[augustjustice]

"Black Comedy Post-Apocalyptic Rom-Com" I gotta know, what's the premise of this one??? The vibes will surely be good!! ^_^

@pizzaqueen​: Totally belated but has anyone asked about Black Comedy Post-Apocalyptic Rom-Com for the WIP game??

Thank you both so much for the ask! I'm excited this one sounds intriguing, even though my word doc is woefully unfleshed out at this point lol. The basic premise of the concept for this fic is that it's set immediately post-Stranger Things Season 4 where Hawkins is basically entering Hell/the Upside Down is encroaching onto the Right Side Up, but...the few citizens of Hawkins left behind are making an attempt to get on like things are business as usual while our plucky band of intrepid heroes have taken up monster slaying on the daily. As you can tell from the doc title, there would definitely be a romance between Steve and Eddie (with some side Robin/Nancy) and the vibes would be very geared toward the mundanity of muddling through an apocalypse while also dealing with silly teenage problems. So, like...Eddie was resurrected after dying in the Upside Down and became a vampire, but he still has to deal with going to school and trying to finally graduate. The older teens decide to ACTUALLY go to prom, and since Hawkins is a ghost town and the dance has paltry attendance of the remaining members of the graduating class they figure, what the hell? And despite it being the 1980s actually openly dance with their real date instead of just acting as each other’s beards all night, that kind of thing. I would mostly just want to focus on the small things in life even during the worst times, with an emphasis on finding the silliness and humor (and romance) in that.

And a snippet to give a sense of what that might sort of look like:

“Eddie spent the night,” Steve says, the casualness of his tone giving way to a grunt as he swings and lands a blow to one of the pack of feral demo–cats? It’s about the size of a cat, at least, and that weird noise it’s making kind of sounds close to a hiss, though who could really tell at this point–that have invaded Mrs. Peterson’s backyard.

Robin just hopes they at least weren’t, like, raccoons, before this. Her fear of rabies is alive and well, and the possibility of getting Upside Down guts all over the ratty jeans that have become her designated monster-hunting pants is not only possible, but inevitable.

“Okay, are we talking spent the night as in…guy time sleepover spent the night, or, you know, spent the night?” Robin laces the words with insinuation, shooting Steve a pointed look, eyebrows raised.

Steve lets out a frustrated huff, running a hand through his hair. Robin doesn’t have the heart to tell him he’s wiped a small streak of black demo-cat whatever viscera right down the middle of his famous ‘do.

He’ll see it later. It’s not like they won’t head straight back to the Harrington house to shower after this.

“I don’t know?” Steve admits.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Robin demands, the words undercut by an exasperated laugh.

“Don’t give me that look,” Steve levels the bat at her, pointing it accusingly, “it’s hard, okay, and after I listened to you talk about Vickie for months, you’d think I could get a little solidar–behind you!”

Robin spins around just in time, making a critical hit with the shovel in her hand. Despite her natural lack of coordination, her aim’s getting better all the time.

…The fact that Nancy’s been giving her some private pointers certainly doesn’t hurt.

She turns back to Steve expectantly, picking the thread of their conversation right back up again.

“Okay, well, what happened, exactly?”

“I mean, that’s the thing. Nothing happened, not really. Eddie came over, we smoked a little–it doesn’t do as much for him now, what with the enhanced vampire whatever–and then we just…talked. You know he can’t really sleep anymore, so when I finally drifted off, he, uh…he just kinda stuck around and…held me. He was still there when I woke up this morning.”

Robin’s eyes widen, and Steve ducks his head to avoid her gaze.

“I don’t know, Steve, that sounds pretty romantic to me,” she sing-songs the pretty, putting emphasis on the t as she rolls the word around in her mouth.

“Okay, sure, when you look at it from a certain angle, it totally does. But, then again, it wasn’t anything you and I wouldn’t have done, you know? So I can’t tell if he was cuddling me in, like, a friend way, or–”

“A boyfriend way?” Robin supplies helpfully, grinning wide when the question makes his cheek’s flush.

Steve is momentarily distracted by a screech near his ankle, which he silences with a definitive, bone-crunching thud.

“I mean…” he ignores her interjection, gesturing big and wide, bat wobbling in one hand, “you get what I’m saying though, right? Am I making sense?”

“No less than usual when it comes to your love life,” Robin quips, and gets a nose-scrunching, sour look from Steve for her trouble.

[chans-room]

Assign an idol to the song and explain why

A. DK

B. Key

C. Jeonghan

D. Changbin

E. Mingi

Killing in the Name

You Know What They Do to Guys Like Us in Prison

Brain Stew

Come Out & Play

Hump de Bump

And yes, I am still waiting to hear about YOUR Saltburn au

I’m sorry this took SO long Luce 🫡 I meant to just pair songs and people and explain why but then bc I am ✨mentally ill✨ I started brain fic-ing (can you tell I came from the era of song fics?)

also the saltburn au is coming I’ve just been possessed by demons and I’m writing too much now

Killing in the Name - Jeonghan

Okay so I will admit im not the most adept at svt but im getting there!! And Jeonghan has always given me Lowkey anarchist vibes + social non-conformity in a way. But as for the fic concept: sorta apocalypse au? where you happen to meet the young revolutionary Jeonghan and fall in love with him while overthrowing the corrupt government. You both struggle to stay alive and stay together while on the run and doing your most to help create real change in the world. Unfortunately, you both die for the cause but you are venerated like saints by the revolution and your friends rebuild the world in your honor. 🫡 Love that for you.

Brain stew - Mingi

Brain Stew is actually one of my fave Green Day songs, and it unfortunately gives me Mingi vibes. I know he’s no stranger to depression central. So my initial thought was college au where Mingi gets overwhelmed by everything halfway through the semester and kinda ✌🏼 dips ✌🏼 on all his obligations, and his friends, and pretty much everything. He feels really alone and isolated and ends up in some community servers where he’s anonymous, not necessarily talking or trying to reach out but interacting here and there. But he ends up really connecting with someone who he lets in, and they end up encouraging him to take better care of himself, to seek help, and to really start living again. He recovers from his depressive episode and starts to thrive. Really just Mingi centric hurt/comfort vibes ☹️❤️

Come Out and Play - Changbin

Okay this one was kinda hard, but the vibe of the song was very Changbin to me. So it’s giving like opposite sides of basically a mafia war, and Changbin is caught in that cycle of violence. You try to convince him that it doesn’t need to be like this, that there are no real differences between him and this supposed enemies, and to help him see the pointlessness of the violence but he can’t see it until it’s too late. Ambiguous ending that flashes forward to a funeral — is it his or is it yours? No one will ever know. Wow this is suddenly giving R+J lmao

Hump De Bump - DK

I love songs about fucking lol the vibe reminds me of like a 1950s au where high school kids go to the popular makeout spots to fuck and keep getting caught by cops or parents or priests lol and you and him have to carefully evade all those adults in order to fool around in peace. Super light hearted and kinda rebellious and fun, exactly what I think of when I think of DK 🖤

You Know What They Do To Guys Like Me In Prison - Key

Songs about crime and questioning your sexuality while ruminating on the inevitability of death? ✨Key vibes. ✨ The fic would focus on him in prison, navigating the fear and hopelessness while struggling with his attraction to a new friend/fellow inmate and wondering if that means all the crimes he’s committed getting to prison were in vain bc he did them to get his lover back from the dead. But he ends up lighting the prison on fire and sacrificing himself to fill his quota. No one knows if he succeeded in bringing them back or if he was reunited with them in death.

[ckneal]

I generally prefer midamoul to Adam/Ghoul concepts, but I would be intrigued by a story where Adam hung around Windom as a ghost after his death, and managed to be present for the events of Jump the Shark. Sam and Dean don’t see him, though he spends a lot of time right in front of their faces, standing way too close as he looks them over and picks out every stray detail that reminds him of John. He might try shouting at Sam for being such a gullible idiot as the Ghoul plays him like a fiddle, and launch into a rant when the Ghoul forces Sam and Dean to admit what they do (”Are you fucking KIDDING ME?!”).  But nonetheless gets so worked up when Sam’s about to dragged through that manhole under his car that he manages to manifest a blow to the chest that sends the Ghoul’s sister reeling underground, breaking her grip. But Sam and Dean have no idea whatsoever. 

And this isn’t a fic, this is just a rough idea that came to me a second ago. But---stay with me---the Ghoul does. For some reason, the Ghoul is the only one who can actually see or hear Adam’s ghost, and he is desperately trying to pretend that he doesn’t. Partly because he’s not completely sure that he’s actually seeing Adam’s ghost. Because the Ghoul’s concerned that Adam might just be something he’s imaging because---horror just to think of it---he might feel just a little bit guilty about murdering people. It’s not like he was a hardened killer when he and his sister went on their revenge spree, and he’s not blind to the fact that the Milligan were innocent people. He knows they didn’t deserve to die---and he ate a lit professor once; in the back of his mind, he has a stolen memory of Lady Macbeth howling “OUT DAMN SPOT!” 

What if him seeing Adam’s ghost is actually just a sign that he himself is starting to go crazy with the guilt? 

But he can’t tell his sister about it, so the Ghoul just tries to ignore it and keep moving ahead with their plans. He ignores all of Adam’s snide comments about the Ghoul’s acting, and his heckling as the Ghoul nervously drives around in Adam’s giant piece-of-shit truck (the Ghoul may have had all of Adam’s memories, but that didn’t mean he could recreate Adam’s knack for driving stick). And while he couldn’t help noticing the cutting silence when Dean found Kate’s remains, he had his own feelings to attribute it to. But then Adam starts to say things around the point of the reveal---when the Ghoul finally gets Sam and Dean to crack about their real identities---that a figment of the Ghoul’s imagination couldn’t possibly know, because the Ghoul didn’t know, and that just makes it all the weirder. 

The Ghoul doesn’t fully understand what’s happening, but Adam’s starting to turn into a vengeful spirit, because human souls can’t just exist on earth after death. As ghosts, their humanity erodes over time, and Adam’s afterlife certainly did not begin on the most cheerful of notes to begin with. 

And as the Ghoul is trying to figure all of this out, holed up in the motel bathroom while Sam’s just outside, thinking that “Adam” needed a moment alone to cry, Adam’s ghost happens to lock eyes with him in the mirror. 

“Wait, can you see me?”

The Ghoul runs, Adam pursues. A shouting match happens, and the Ghoul lets out the words, “I’m sorry, okay? It was fucked up, is that what you want to hear?”

“No, I want to not be dead!”

“Well, I want my dad back!” 

“So what? You get to kill me over it?”

And as they’re shouting at each other, the Ghoul’s just reeling, he doesn’t even know what to say. They can hear Sam calling after “Adam” in the distance, because the Ghoul had just bolted from the room without warning before. He goes with, “Life’s not fair!” 

Adam’s about to shout something back, but then he freezes, because the Ghoul starts sobbing, and suddenly Adam doesn’t know what to do, as Sam comes into view. 

The next time the Ghoul has Sam alone, as they’re barricading Adam’s house, the Ghoul asks Sam a few questions about earth. It’s not weird, the Ghoul had already laid the groundwork with Sam to talk about hunting. Sam doesn’t even bat and eye as he talks about how ghosts hardly resemble humans after awhile, they just lose themselves, and that that’s why they shouldn’t feel bad about severing their link to the land of the living, even if they do look like they’re in pain when you “light ’em up.”

“Does it hurt them, though?”

“Honestly, we try not to think about it.”

“That’s not a no.”

Sam makes a face, and then goes to get more nails.

And then the ending would have to be the Ghoul opening his eyes in Adam’s house after having his head blown in, realizing he’s a ghost, and then turning around to see Adam awkwardly standing on the other side of the room. 

The Ghoul tries to think of something to say, but then a reaper appears with a sound of flapping wings. They look back and forth between Adam and the Ghoul, and then ask which one of them they’re supposed to take. 

Without a second’s hesitation, the Ghoul points to Adam and says, “Him!” 

And then spends the final moments of his life watching Sam and Dean scrub the blood out of Adam’s house, wondering where he’ll go and whether he might see Adam again after they burn his corpse. 

[aurora-313]

I got interested at Bleach again recently, and sadly, some of my favorite characters in Bleach is very minor characters, include Kaien and Masaki. I came across your fic just about a week ago, and thank you for the great works. I think I read each and every one of your fic at least four times last week. I never knew I needed some good Ichigo-Kaien cousins relationship, and your works scratched an itch I never knew I had.

So, how long do you planned to write your works? Most Bleach fic writers hate lost agent arc (I dont like it either, but the concept of fullbring is good. I just hate Ichigo's final fullbring design), and you jokingly said something about BB!Kaien flirting some of the female quincies on other asks. Nepenthe starts even before turn back the pendulum arc, so it may take a completly different course of actions from canon. The twin fic, you said it will go under a rewrite, didnt even started soul society arc. I am just curious how long I can enjoy your fic.

And I admit I am curious about how Kaien will play out in some of the anime only arcs. I am manga only reader, and I dont really watch anime in general, but I am seriously considering to watch the anime arc only episodes. Im pretty sure that you will skip those parts, but can you show us what do you think of them?

I'm glad you're enjoying what I've written so far.

Kaien is a criminally underused character and he was one of my favourites for a good long time. I genuinely believe he and Ichigo would've gotten on extremely well, and that Kaien would've been the big brother Ichigo never realised he needed.

For Black and Blue, obviously its going to be canon divergent by virtue of Kaien's living status and his speed-running Ichigo through 'How To Train Your Hollow'. Events will not marry up to the canon timeline. At least not completely, Aizen will face the music - that's a given.

Truth be told I actually dislike Thousand Year Blood War. And in my story, several character's fates set in stone. Many of which run heavily contradictory to the events of TYBW, so I'm electing to ignore that arc. If I touch the Quincy conflict... I'd probably rejig a lot of lore for my narrative.

Tangentially, regarding the flirting with a Quincy joke? BB!Kaien already has an endgame love interest. Hilarious as that would be, they are not a Quincy.

Lost Agent Arc is... one that I've grown to appreciate as I've gotten older, but back when I was reading Bleach week by week, I found it completely insufferable and I spent most of my time bemoaning 'Hurry up and give him his powers back, Kubo."

Though, frankly, I never bought why Ichigo had to lose his powers in the first place, especially when the Hyog had established weaknesses within it which would’ve allowed victory by attrition. And Duex Ex Final Getsuga hits a wrong note with me no matter how you slice it. You can’t describe it as anything other than an ass pull and hand of the author at play.

My conclusion as an adult looking back; Lost Agent, I sit comfortably on the fence. Its okay. Not offensive, not inoffensive, just average. That being said, I have touched on Ginjo Kugo's existence in BB, so that might be another thing I'll have to explore as part of the epilogue. Or in a side/sequel story.

However. My dislike for TYBW aside, I do intend to write independent What-If scenarios for certain events that take place; Kaien's reaction to Ukitake's sacrifice, what Sternritter I'd of had him fight. Things of that nature.

My intention for Black and Blue is to conclude the Winter War with Aizen's defeat and have the Zanpakutou Rebellion arc (anime only) function as a winddown with some rejigging to make it fit into BB's narrative. Then a 'Where are they now' epilogue some years or decades hence because after this hell, these guys have earned their happy endings.

Once More To See You Again I'm focusing on transforming it into a cohesive narrative with some liberties taken with worldbuilding. Rather than have Rukia be persecuted for creating a Shinigami Substitute when there's clearly provisions for one; she pleads guilty to interfering with the Cycle of Souls and reassociation with a reincarnated soul. In OMTSYA Rukia is trapped in a catch-22; Report the Shinigami substitute which reveals the reassociation and end in both their executions, or request a transfer, which leaves a substitute undocumented and unsupervised and end in both their executions. Dealing with that conundrum is going to be interesting. :)

(That, and I didn't like Kaien's aspects fighting each other during Ashewallen. Especially considering how Ichigo's aspects only ever desired to protect him.)

That will last until at LEAST the end of Soul Society. But I do have ideas for interactions with the Visoreds, other Arrancars and how Hueco Mundo would go down. Let's face it: Neo!Kaien vs Aaronerio!Kaien would be a delicious match-up and great character exploration.

Nepenthe was inspired by Cywscross' Swinging Pendulum (but really, what Bleach Time-travel story isn't these days?) - but I wanted to take all the usual time-travel clichés attached to Ichigo and play them completely straight. Rather than pretending, Ichigo does legitimately have amnesia. Rather than hiding his power, Ichigo was injured in such a way that he needs to regain his powers the old fashioned way. Effectively, I dumped him in the past with a clean slate and I look forward to seeing how he adapts to living with and as a Shiba.

But to answer your question: So, how long do you planned to write your works?

For as long as people keep reading and commenting on it, I suppose. :)

There's a criminal lack of Kaien content. I aim to rectify this.

[seitosokusha]

sunbeams and moonlights

Atsushi is young, true. He’s inexperienced and unsure. If pressed, he can't say he really understands. But sometimes you just know.

So Atsushi knows early on he fell in love with Dazai.

He simply did nothing about it.

-.-.-

Dazai is old, though he is physically young. He's seen too much and is far too jaded. If pressed, he won’t ever admit it, but he understands.

But sometimes, you just have to turn blind eye.

So it takes Dazai a very long time to realize he fell in love with Atsushi.

 AU Notes

This idea runs purely on vibes (hence why it’ll never probably be written haha cause I had no direction). But just like… slowburn dazatsu. This concept does show up in a few other fics of mine, (cause I like it a lot) but like the primary idea of Atsushi came to understand that he fell in love with Dazai early on and Dazai took a very long time to realize it.

Quiet acknowledgement vs willfully blind.

Or something like that haha.

The idea that Atsushi knows he’s in love, but accepts both the fact that he is young/inexperienced (so he mindfully questioning whether it really is love, confirming his feelings and how far deep it goes) and the fact Dazai isn’t really ready for a relationship.

So he doesn’t push, he waits and he’s okay with waiting because Dazai isn’t ready and just simply spending time with Dazai is more than enough right now because he gets to learn all the different things about Dazai.

Dazai, on the other hand, just pushes away his feelings. I don’t know if I would have put into the fics (cause I really don’t need a ship war), but it might be an interesting concept to write how when it came to Chuuya, Dazai fell hard and fast (that’s the hc I prescribe to at least). But nothing came from that relationship (because Dazai and emotions are not a good mix). So the contrast of Dazai falling for Atsushi but being willfully blind to the whole thing instead of something quick, fast, hard.

And I imagine the final get together scene goes something like this.

Atsushi laughs. It’s bright and freeing, like a crystal bell, ringing without any regrets.

He’s come a long way from the nervous, timid boy, five years ago.

There’s just something about his laughter, his brilliant smile that warms Dazai’s heart.

Oh.

 Oh.

There, that warm fuzzy feeling, a liquid warmth that floods Dazai’s system and tugs a real smile to his face, it’s love. The realization crystalizes in Dazai’s heart and yet it’s old and worn, nothing new. It’s not an all consuming fire, but a gentle sparkle, a beating of drums to a familiar tune.

“Dazai-san?” Atsushi asks.

That emotion Dazai could never pinpoint in Atsushi’s eyes was tenderness.

     Oh.  

Atsushi loves him back.

And all those little pieces of the puzzle snaps together. Now that he knows, he can’t be blind to it any longer.

“Atsushi-kun,” Dazai started, slow and hesitant, “have we been dating for the last five years?”

Atsushi laughs. “If you want to look at it that way,” he says, shining like the sun he is.

His smile takes on a mischief edge, one that Dazai had taught him. “Or, we can say today is our first date?”

the game | the tag | ao3 link

[quelsentiment]

3, 15, 17, 18 for the weird writing asks!!

Thanks Fee!

3. What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed?

Okay, so I used to write on Google Docs for the longest time and then a few months I told myself that maybe it wasn't the best privacy-wise. So I've switched to using Open Office, which I think helps me focus better because having it on a separate window away from my web browser reduces the temptation to stop mid-sentence to check another tab, you know? But at the same time, this feels VERY cursed because my version doesn't have any kind of spelling check, plus my WIPs are now saved on my internal drive, and since I don't make backups of them that often, I live in fear or my laptop dying on me and making me lose weeks of progress

Oh also, there's basically no word count lololol

Am I gonna do anything about any of this though? No, we're raw-dogging life over here 😎

15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?

I already answered this earlier but the short answer is I currently don't, but I don't judge people who do (unless it's a library book or something)

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

I guess I'll talk about my fic for the Zouis Fest (although it might not even be part of it in the end, because I keep writing for the Dream Team fandom instead rip)

Anyway, I'm still not sure exactly what I'm doing with it. Like the main idea is that it's a Zayn-POV, canon-compliant(ish), present day fic where they run into each other in Hong Kong and are kinda forced to acknowledge what happened all those years ago, and figure out how to move forward. So like, lots of angst and feelings of betrayal and conflict and serious conversations because that's basically all I know how to (and all I want to) write lol

At the moment I'm not sure whether to keep it focused on their friendship or introduce some kind of romance aspect to it (toying with the idea that they had some kind FWB situation going while they were in the band). But since it's canon-compliant I'd feel kinda iffy doing that. I've never actually written canon-compliant before, and I have to admit that it scares me a bit, also because I've been extremely removed from the 1d fandom lately

Anyway one thing I'm sure about is that I want a scene to be inspired by the following verse from Blur's My Terracotta Heart:

And when we fly tomorrow over the Java seas And my younger maps will be there with me 'Cause they remind me of swimming out too far one day Then the coral was gone, but I didn't care anyway

Something about Zayn going too far to swim and Louis watching him almost drown but not realizing what's happening, as a metaphor for what went wrong between them

Yeah, that's pretty much all I can share at the moment. I should really get back to it

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end.

Zayn Malik is, without a doubt, the most beautiful person Louis has ever had the privilege to lay his eyes on. To the point that if he were to explain aesthetic attraction to someone, he’d probably say something like: “The feeling I get when I look at that gorgeous guy in my English 586 class.”

That's the opening line from Situations Like These, my aro/ace Zouis fic from the first Zouis fest.

It's one of those stories that really started out with just a scene rather than an idea/concept, which I think is the case for a lot of my fics actually. I mean, I did have a prompt for this fic, which was something like "they're both ace but don't tell the other for fear of driving him away", so it was pretty vague in terms of setting and everything else, really.

I remember coming up with that opening scene and the bits of dialogues at my grandparents' place right before getting on the road back home with my parents, and since I'd rather die than write in front of them, I just had to make sure to commit everything to my memory by repeating it all in my head throughout the day, until we were finally home and I could write it down. But that's something I do a lot, I think, just come up with stuff (typically dialogue) at inconvenient times and praying that I remember it by the time I can write it down 😬 And then of course when you actually settle in front of your computer, you feel like all your inspiration is gone

Anyway, I think this might be one of my favourite opening scenes I've written, I feel like it's pretty fun while setting the tone and dynamics for the whole fic

writing asks