#questions about a fanfic

[nattyontherun]

Hey! I have a question, hope you don't mind. In Hearthfire Ino and Sakura say that Kakashi can be petty... is he really, though? What has Kakashi done that they consider petty?

fun question! and one i've been waiting on someone (other than @emberswrites lmao luv u bb) to ask!

so HF plays a lot with perception - as in, how characters view the situation at hand (Shisui coming back to life), themselves in relation to the situation (this answers why I chose "revolving closer - to collision" as the series name, yes) and each other.

to ino, sakura (though hardly perfect) is sorta the victim here? imagine it from her perspective: long time bestie, potential love of her life, shags up with the love of her life, they have a few blissful years of marriage (because why would sakura reveal that she's having problems with sasuke because of his mental health??) and then they break up ("mutually") only for said love of sakura's life to immediately move in with kakashi? the fact that sasuke gets SOME side-eyes and maybe a few whispers is literally amazing??? that's how you know ppl are scared of him??? because trust, if he were some commoner chuunin he'd get dragged to FILTH for this.

and so that's ino's perspective. she's already predisposed to thinking less kindly about sasuke and kakashi - kakashi in particular because, considering the beach and kakashi's age and literal job as hokage - it's easy to point at him and go "hey, this is the mfker who caused all this" so when kakashi lashes out in little ways: giving sakura the cold shoulder, some extra work maybe, or distancing himself or sasuke physically from her sometimes, that all just comes off as petty as fuck!

as for sakura - i like to think that HF sakura at least understands exactly why their relationship broke apart. it's this weird juxtaposition of knowing it wouldn't have worked out whether or not KKSS became a thing, yet hating specifically that KKSS became a thing because kakashi was sasuke's shoulder to cry on, so to speak. so she's in a position where, when ino points out something kakashi did as "petty", she doesn't /want/ to disagree, but she can't really /agree/ either, so she just lets ino do all the talking for her and lets the truth sit between them like still water.

so that leads us to that final scene between sakura and ino in HF, where ino asks about kakashi's pettiness and all sakura can do is *proverbial shrug*

-

i do wanna say though that, especially early on in the SSSK "separation", i do think kakashi has a strong need to be very very petty and that he indulges that need. it's small things ofc. like i said: cold shoulder, extra work, avoidance. without context, it goes from petty to downright mean, tbh... with context, from sakura's perspective at least, it's kakashi lashing out in a way that least disrupts their lifes work while making it abundantly clear how upset he is at her. so all the rumors start and die this way, early on, without context.

ino does learn bits and pieces about sasuke's illness over the years... but smth smth first perceptions, smth smth kakashi and sakura aren't really/friends/ anymore in that point in time. like i said FUN stuff!!

[incognitopolls]

We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

[mirnightghost]

Starfalls. Again-

This time the endgame version, which I was inspired by while reading the fanfic. I just started thinking about what Steve ended up going through during Infinity War. Lost Bucky again, unable to save him. Lost new friends. For five years. According to Steve's inner clock, he only loses Bucky for two years the first time. And here...five years? Oh-

Then he loses Natasha, his last close friend. Yes, after that everyone who was turned to dust returned, but in the end Tony died. Therefore, a picture where Steve can finally allow himself to collapse. Release the burden of emotions. Mourning and at the same time relief that his Bucky is alive.

There..there are a lot of emotions there, really...

Oh and I enjoyed drawing this-- although I've gotten really into rendering again, I...yeah, I'm starting to feel more confident in drawing people. :']

[princessasmosprincess]

Life is too short to not interact with your favorite fanfic authors.

[cuubism]

some canon-verse trans Hob for the lovely @five-and-dimes who recently got top surgery! 🥳🥰 congratulations, I'm truly so happy for you, my friend. please accept this humble offering

--

“So, it actually started on a dare,” Hob says, on the day he tells Dream the story of him. Or of this part of him, anyway.

Normally, Hob gets a bit guarded the first time he tells someone he’s trans. It’s hard to predict with absolute certainty how people will react, especially ones he’s just become romantically involved with. He’s had it go poorly, to say the least, in the past.

He doesn’t feel that way with Dream. It’s not because there’s so much trust between them—they’re still new, after all. No, it’s something about Dream himself. For all his prickly and standoffish nature, being close to him feels like sinking into a warm lake, into a dark sleep where secrets and hidden wishes float up like glowing reeds to the surface. Deep, personal feelings feel safe with Dream; he cradles them in his hands and soothes them. Or that’s how it feels, when Hob is touching him.

Personification of dreams, indeed.

“A dare?” Dream echoes.

“Sort of," Hob says. "Got frustrated with people saying women should or shouldn’t do this or that or the other thing, so I decided if they felt so strongly about it I’d just be a man. Moved somewhere no one knew me, dressed differently, got stronger, practiced the sword—and that was that. No one seemed to care much, once you were at war. So long as you could swing a sword and not get yourself killed.”

“A choice, then,” Dream says. He’s listening very intently, hands folded on his knees, untouched tea on the coffee table before him.

“At first. Was only after I’d been living that way for a few decades—before and after we met—that I realized while there might be a handful of women out there living as men for the freedom of it, that they didn’t all like it. Given the choice they’d rather just be women in a more equal world. You know?”

Dream hums in understanding.

“But I didn’t want to go back,” Hob continues. “I felt like... who I'd become was the truth of me all along.”

“Identity, while not wholly immutable, is resilient against adversity and circumstance,” says Dream. “You found what your heart wanted you to be, if in a circuitous manner.”

“You seem very unbothered by it,” Hob observes, sipping his tea.

Dream frowns. “Why would I be bothered by it?”

“Dunno.” Apparently he can’t fully shake that this’ll put a wedge in us feeling. “People sometimes are. Feel deceived, or something like that. So they say.”

“If they are deceived, it is by their own assumptions,” Dream says, with disdain. “You should be as you dream yourself, Hob. No more nor less. Put aside these petty physical trappings.”

“I do actually have to live in these ‘physical trappings’ even if you don’t, you silly thing.” He can’t help laughing. “Besides, I rather like being some kind of living creature in the world, rather than what? A ghost? Best I can do is make this body as close to how it should be as possible.”

Hob’s come to like his body, for the most part, in the form that he’s made it. He didn’t always. But he needs a body of some kind to be alive, and he likes being alive. So what he couldn’t change, he made peace with.

Besides, they have hormone treatments nowadays. Brilliant stuff. Makes it so much better.

“Anyway, now you know. I wanted you to. Since we’re together.” It’s still a marvel. Together.

“Thank you,” says Dream, with evident sincerity. “It is a privilege to be gifted your secrets.”

“Not really a secret, but I get what you mean.” He takes Dream’s hand, just to touch him, and admits, “Telling it to you is like… I don’t know. Feels like when I was younger and first admitted out loud, ‘I’m a man. I want to stay like this.’”

It hasn’t been a proper secret in a very long time. But giving it to Dream is like the freedom of releasing a held breath, even so.

“I am the harbor and cradle of dreams,” Dream says in reply. He traces his fingers over Hob’s. Does Dream’s strange form just spring from the ether? Hob wonders. Or does he have to choose it? The way Hob chose his? “Dreams of being and becoming… these are most precious for they grow from tough soil. I can only protect them, I cannot create them. You must do that. And I expect that were I to find you in the Dreaming, there would be a fantastic garden there, indeed.”

Dream himself is the most fantastical thing. “Well, darling, just know your work is appreciated.”

Dream’s lips tip up in a tiny smile. When he meets Hob’s gaze again, his eyes have gone dark and starry. He folds Hob into a hug, and—

oh, it’s like being hugged by the universe itself.

Hob feels the light breeze of a warm dark night, when he’d lain by the dying fire in a war camp in the French countryside, and looked up at a million stars and first whispered to himself what if this is really who I am? Dream is that breeze and those stars. The dying embers that had lit him as he’d run his hands over his body and felt it differently than he ever had before, and been terrified because what would it mean?—but also thrilled and alive. Dream is the night wrapping around him in that moment, the night that was listening to his dreams no matter how quietly he admitted them, Dream is that and more and the voice in his heart telling him it would be okay.

A younger, more uncertain Hob would have needed this. Hob now is older, and he already knows who he is and what he wants, but he falls into Dream’s embrace all the same. A tear slips from his eye, and Dream kisses his cheek, wiping the tear away with his tongue before leaning their heads together.

“I could craft you any body you wanted in the Dreaming,” he says lowly. “However I think the one you have made with your own hands is more remarkable.”

Oh, God, he’s going to tear up again. “Dream, you are the most beautiful, wonderful thing.”

Dream hums in pleasure at the words, and lets Hob hold him close, lets him cradle his head to his chest, a dream kept close to his heart. One that he knew as soon as he saw it walk into the White Horse. Sooner even than he truly knew himself.

Then Dream looks up at him with a hopeful expression. “With these truths revealed, are we able to be intimate?”

Hob laughs so hard he has to tip his head back against the couch. “Wow. One track mind with you, isn’t it? I spill my heart and that’s what I get?”

Dream grumbles, tucking his face in against Hob’s neck to press his lips to Hob’s throat. “I find myself impatient of late.”

“Knew all along you were only with me for my body.” He’s grinning, though. Can’t stop.

“Well. Considering it is such a lovely one.” He plucks at Hob’s shirt buttons. Lecherous little nightmare.

It feels fucking good, though, to be desired.

“C’mere, then,” he says, and drags Dream into his lap.

Dream settles there with a purr, starts playing with Hob’s hair, but says, “I would not truly derail this moment, nor distract from your feelings if you do not wish it.”

“Oh, I wish it. You’ve no idea how much I want you right now. You’re like a prize.” He cradles Dream’s beloved face between his hands. “Stick around for long enough and you’ll get the most incredible Dream at the end of it.”

“Or at the beginning,” Dream says, and Hob’s heart swells so much to hear him voice that that he has to kiss him.

When he does, Dream makes a low, pleased sound, settling deeper in his lap. Yes, this moment, this life, is certainly the prize for all of those years hanging onto those dreams:

the dream of his lover

and the one of himself.

[drawer-of-socks]

Haven't drawn the boys in a hot minute-

[justaz]

somehow for some reason the knights take on a spell that lights up the scars that litter their bodies. arthur has the most with leon as a close second. gwaine and percival and pretty much tied for third though gwaines are much smaller - from more brawls than battles. elyan and lancelot have their fair share but less that the others. that is until they turn to see merlin lit up like a goddamn glowstick. the others (bar lancelot) had been expecting maybe a few nicks from being on the outskirts of battles or mishaps from working on a farm back in ealdor, not……this. the light (which shines through their clothes as if the fabric isn’t even there) is practically blinding on merlin, covering every inch of skin. more so than even arthur. lancelot prompts them all to move on and everyone does, holding themselves back from asking the questions they desperately want answered

[fistfightinganxietyandlosing]

Imagine if Benrius had actually become canon in the show. How do you think the writers would have tackled it or better yet - how would you have tackled it?

[detectivenyx]

i hate cinemasins so much you would not believe

[incognitopolls]

We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

[vaniloqu3nce]

EVERYONE STOP.

Hades and Persephone Wenclair Au PLEASE. PLEASE SOMEONE ANYONE.

Wednesday as the lord of the underworld is doing things to my brain that are not healthy for someone with my levels of queer

Enid basically having hell on a leash because her wife does just about anything she says.

“What if we give therapy to some of them? They can’t all be terrible.”

“Yes, dear.”

[artiststarme]

Where's The "Talk"?

Based on a prompt from @samcoxramblings. I hope this meets your expectations! Please leave your thoughts in the comments and if you have any more angsty prompts, send them my way!

~*~*~*~

After coming out to the Party, Eddie and Steve were on their toes for days just waiting for someone to give them the ‘Talk’. They were amped up, prepared to receive loads of various threats ranging in creativity and snipe. But the days came and went and no one mentioned anything. Anytime Eddie would mention expecting a shovel talk to protect their babysitter, the kids awkwardly looked between one another before changing the subject. When Steve mentioned to Robin and Nancy that no one had warned him against hurting Eddie yet, they just rolled their eyes and ignored him. Neither man knew what the Party was waiting for. 

After a week, Eddie loses his patience and asks the kids at their Hellfire session. “Okay guys, what gives? Where are the outlandish threats of violence, the creative insults about my character, the whole shabang? I’ve been on the edge of my seat for fucking days.”

“Eddie, what the hell are you talking about?” Dustin asked him, sounding puzzled. 

Eddie snorted a sound of frustration. “The shovel talk! Steve and I told you that we were dating a week ago and no one has said anything! Is this a gay thing? Are you too scared of being homophobic to say anything? I can take it!”

The kids looked uncomfortable but Mike spoke. “Look man, we just don’t want to waste our time. You and Steve aren’t going to last. I mean, look how different you guys are! You’re awesome, you DM for Hellfire, and you’re in a band. What does Steve do? He works at Family Video all day and sure, he looks kinda good without a shirt on, but he has nothing else going for him!”

Lucas and Dustin looked at him in confusion before Dustin cleared his throat. “Eddie, we know you’re not going to hurt each other. You’re both our big brothers and you’re not actually dating. Steve likes girls! I’m sure he’s just looking for a way to let you down easy. I’m sorry, man.”

Meanwhile, Eddie looked at them indifferently. He couldn’t believe that these little assholes would say that to him and at a DnD session no less! He whipped his head to look at the original Hellfire members only to find Gareth, Jeff, and Grant looking shellshocked. 

“Do you boys feel the same way?” He asked them, his eyes flashing dangerously. 

Jeff shook his head slightly, “no way, man. We just don’t know Steve well enough to give him a talk. You know we’ve always supported you, if you want us to threaten him a little, we can.”

“Yeah, we’ll threaten the socks off of him!” Grant nodded. Gareth though just continued glaring at the kids.

Eddie nodded, it seemed there was a division of true friends and posers around the table. If his little sheep didn’t want to believe he and Steve would last, he’d show them. He and Steve were for life. Eddie was like a parasite, a viral STD if you will. Once you got him, you were stuck with him forever.

“Well, thank you for sharing your opinion. Does anyone else feel that way?” He asked them. Did the rest of the Party share the same views? He desperately needed to know. 

Lucas nodded slowly, “well, yeah. Hopper says you guys are only seeing each other because you’re trauma-bonded and Robin said that it doesn’t mean anything anyways.”

Eddie chuckled sardonically. Oh so, the entire Party was against them? Fine, he didn’t need to be a part of the group that tore his life apart anyways. 

“Alright, Hellfire’s disbanded. Get your stuff and get out. Corroded Coffin, we’ll continue the campaign as a three-piece on Thursday before band practice. I’m going to go see Steve, the guy I’m in a relationship with. You know, the one that ‘doesn’t mean anything’ since we’re ‘too different’ and ‘trauma-bonded’ and ‘waiting to get let down easy’? Go fuck yourself and fuck your precious Party too.” And with that, Eddie stormed out. 

He drove straight to Family Video and was ashamed to find that frustrated tears had started leaking from his eyes. He couldn’t believe this. After all they’d gone through together with the Upside Down and psychic killers and murder accusations, being in a relationship with Steve was the tipping point? Absolutely ridiculous. He darted into the video store and didn’t even slow his stride as he threw his arms around Steve where he was talking to a customer. 

“What the- Eddie? Hey, what’s going on? Are you okay?” He asked him before turning back to the customer. “I’m sorry, could you talk to Robin over at the counter please? Have a nice day.”

Steve gently herded him into the employee lounge and pressed his teary face into the crook of his neck. “Eds, hey, what happened?”

“I’m so sorry, Stevie. I never should’ve said anything!”

“About what? What’s going on? Weren’t you supposed to be playing DnD today with the kids today?” Steve asked him. He wiped the tears from underneath Eddie’s eyes and rested a hand on the back of his neck for comfort.

“I asked the kids why we hadn’t gotten a shovel talk from anyone yet before we even started. They said that no one in the Party thinks we’re going to last. Hopper thinks we’re trauma-bonded, Mike doesn’t think we’re fucking compatible, Dustin thinks you’re faking it, and Robin thinks we’re not serious. They’re not interested in ‘wasting their time’ giving us a talk.”

Steve blinked in surprise before his face hardened. “We don’t need their acceptance or their approval. We know they’re wrong and that’s what matters. We don’t even need a talk from them. Fuck ‘em! We can give ourselves a shovel talk if our good-for-nothing-friends can’t do it!”

“Steve-” 

“I’m serious, who gives a shit about their opinions? Who are they to judge? Dustin’s dating a girl over the radio that lives in goddamn Utah or some shit. Lucas can’t judge because Max broke up with him again for like the tenth time this month. Mike’s only girlfriend was a girl he found in the woods that didn’t know any better than to date him. Robin’s never even been in a relationship so she can’t judge us for having one. And Hopper is 100% going to be in the doghouse after I tell Joyce about what he said. Fuck what they have to say.”

“But Stevie, how are we going to give one to ourselves? That doesn’t even make sense,” Eddie told him gently.

“Fine, then we’ll give one to each other. Eddie, if you break my heart, I’m going to give Wayne adoption papers and take your last name whether you want me to or not.”

Eddie sputtered, “what the fuck? What kind of talk is that? You’re supposed to threaten me with physical harm, not whatever mindfuckery that was!”

“Don’t belittle my shovel talk! Like you could do any better,” Steve scoffed at him.

“Oh yeah? Steve, if you break my heart then I’m going to break your kneecaps so you can’t leave until I win you back. And if I break your heart, I’m going to finish what the bats started.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Eddie! Are you okay? That’s fucking violent!” Steve yelled.

“That’s the point!” Eddie screamed back.

“No it’s not!”

“Yes it is, you’re supposed to threaten to hide the body with a shovel,” Eddie said like it was obvious. 

“Dingus, stop talking to Eddie and get back to work. We have a line,” Robin said exasperatedly, poking her head into the back room. 

“We’re giving each other shovel talks since you losers wouldn’t do it. You know, since this means something. I’ll be out when we’re done with that,” Steve told her bitchily. 

“Fuck off Buckley,” Eddie hissed venomously. Robin looked shocked at his mutiny but backed away regardless. 

Steve stared at the door for a moment but Eddie drew his attention back to himself with a whispered, “if you don’t hurt me, I’ll help you hide a body.”

Steve cackled and murmured back, “you already were accused of murder once, you need to stop being so violent!”

They continue to date until marriage is legalized in the state of Illinois, where they move shortly after they deliver their truly remarkable shovel talks. As payback, they get a marriage certificate at the courthouse and don’t invite anyone from the Party to act as witnesses. Instead, Uncle Wayne, Jeff, Gareth, and Grant surround them and hear the clerk declare them husbands. 

(Hopper and the rest of the Party find out at Christmas that year and everyone loses their shit in synchrony. They all learn a valuable lesson that day that Eddie Munson holds the meanest of grudges.)

Permanent Tag List: @doubleb11 @nburkhardt @zerokrox-blog @newtstabber @i-less-than-three-you @carlyv @pyrohonk @straight4joekeery @ksherlock15 @conversesweetheart @estrellami-1 @suddenlyinlove @yikes-a-bee @swimmingbirdrunningrock @perseus-notjackson @anaibis @merricatty @maya-custodios-dionach @grtwdsmwhr @manda-panda-monium @lumoschild @goodolefashionedloverboi @mentallyundone @awkwardgravity1 @anzelsilver @jestyzesty @gregre369 @mysticcrownshipper @disasterlia @lillys-weird-world @messrs-weasley @gay-stranger-things @pnk-lemonades @coolestjoy30 @awkotaco24 @strangerthingfanfic @dangdirtydemons @bookworm0690 @hannahhook7744 @dreamlandforever @marsbars97

[french-goodbye]

would you still love me?

summary: you wake your boyfriend up in the middle of the night with a very serious question.

pairing: steve harrington x reader

notes: in light of recent events (heidi klum dressing up as a worm for halloween) and this tiktok i saw, i had to write this. is this stupid? yes. does anyone need this? no. did anyone ask for this? no. did i still write it? yes. yes i did.

"babe" steve's woken up by someone poking his side "babe" he's poked again.

that someone is you, because even though it's 3 am (you can see the numbers taunting you in the alarm clock on his bedside table) you're still awake. you've been so stressed you can barely get a good night of sleep, having a hard time balancing college classes and work and it ruins your sleep schedule. most nights, you're able to keep to yourself, tossing and turning or reading or just listening to music on your walkman and letting your boyfriend sleep, trying to be considerate of his own sleep schedule. but tonight, however, is not one of those nights.

"wha'?" he mumbles, barely understandable, eyes still closed as his face rests on his pillow.

"stevie, wake up" you say laying beside him, still poking him softly. one of his eyes open and he struggles to focus on you.

"what is it?" he murmurs, yawning and barely awake.

"i need to ask you a question" you say, running your fingers through his hair when you can't resist touching him. he sighs loudly at your ministrations and he's almost asleep again when you tug his hair softly to wake him up. "wake up" you repeat, he doesn't move. "wake up, wake up, wake up" you go back to poking him again and again until both of his eyes open.

"what is it, woman?" he asks, seeming more awake this time, turning slowly on his back to stretch his limbs, one of his arms almost hitting you in the face before he settles and turns his head to look at you.

"i need to ask you a question" you repeat.

"couldn't you wait until morning sweetheart?" he complains, slightly whiny. you laugh and climb on top of him, resting your hands on his chest.

"no" you answer decidedly.

"fine" he groans. "what is it?"

"would you still love me if i was a worm?" you ask and rest your face on top of your hands. he frowns.

"i'm sorry, what?"

"would you still love me if i was a worm?" you repeat. "it's a simple question"

"i don't know" he scratches his head and eyes you sleepily.

"you don't know?" you get up from him, sitting up on hips to stare at him."you don't know if you'd love me?"

"i mean... how would i know it's you?"

"so you wouldn't recognize me? what if i just woke up tomorrow and i was a worm?" you ask frowning.

"just in the middle of the night? how did you turn into a worm?" he frowns back.

"i don't know... what if someone casted a spell on me?" he gives you a dubious look."stranger things have happened" you cross your arms on your chest, slightly pouting.

"then i'd find a way to change you back" he shrugs.

"what if you couldn't? what if i was just a worm forever and you couldn't change that?" he grips your thighs where they slot on his hips and shakes you slightly. you lean your hands on his chest so you don't fall.

"why are we having this conversation right now?" you sigh.

"because steve, this is important!" you push his chest lightly. "you mean you wouldn't love me anymore?"

"you'd be a worm, sweetheart. how would i love you?" he cups his hand in front of him as if to show you a worm.

"but that'd still be me" you point to his hands. "i'd just be a little worm"

"fine, then. i'd get you a jar and we could hangout" he says caressing your thighs, trying his best to appease you. you still eye him suspiciously.

"and you'd still date me?" you ask.

"i don't know, can worms date?" you gasp and gape at him.

"you'd break up with me?"

"i'd never break up with you!" he exclaims.

"so, you'd still date me?"

"my head hurts" he rubs his face tiredly. you feel only a little bit bad for your stubbornness, but not enough to drop the subject.

"okay, so does that means i can date other worms then?"

"no! you don't get to date another worm!" he answers huffing affrontedly.

"but you didn't want to date me as a worm" you whine.

"but that doesn't mean you can date another worm!"

"so you can't go and date another human"

"but i don't wanna date anyone else!" he complains "ok then. we wouldn't date anyone else and i'd carry you on my pocket everywhere" you feel yourself melt a little, a small smile on your face.

"do you promise me?" he nods solemnly.

"i promise, baby" he pulls you to him by your shoulders, so you'll to lay your head on his chest and you go willingly "i'd build you a garden with loads of flowers and rocks and other worms for you to be friends with" you smile against his sleep t-shirt, twisting it between your fingers.

"thanks babe" you press a kiss to his chest and he presses one to your hair. "i love you"

"i love you too" he answers, settling beneath you and folding his arms around your waist "can we go back to sleep now?" you nod happily.

it's not long before you're sleeping, his rhythmic breaths and the movement of his chest underneath you lulling you into a better sleep than you've had in weeks.

[independent-fics]

I know “The Last Dam Job” was a lot of Eliot and Quinn with their hacking counterparts comparisons. But I really would have loved a scene with Parker sneaking up on them and poking each of Quinn and Eliot’s bruises and asking about Eliot’s clone.

[diazsdimples]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday

Somehow I blinked and Frostpunk AU has 5k words. A quick PSA, this fic only uses the world of Frostpunk (as in, post-apocalypic, frozen wasteland) and that's about it so you don't need to know anything about the game other than it'll be the 118 doing their best to survive in an eternal winter. Please enjoy a snippet from Eddie's POV (it might seem like it's written weirdly but the dude is literally dying from cold, he's not going to have very coherent thoughts).

Cold. Bitter, intense, freezing cold. He’s going to die, he can feel it. The cold is too much, too consuming. His blood feels cold and too thick, like his heart is trying to pump frozen syrup through his veins. Is that why he can feel warm hands on him then? Warm hands that are insistently touching his face, rubbing his cheeks and brushing his eyelids, spreading their delicious heat? Is it an angel? “H-hey, I’ve got you, man, I’m gonna take good care of you. We’re gonna get you and your boy home.” Can angels talk? The voice can’t be real, he hasn’t heard anything except his voice or his son’s for months. Wait. His son. Chris. Eddie struggles, trying to sit up but the warm, strong hands push him back down. “Stay still, you’ll use up too much energy trying to move,” the voice says, and Eddie thinks it’s a nice voice. He trusts this voice. “Christopher,” he mumbles. Maybe the owner of the voice will understand. Understand how precious his son is. Save Christopher, not him. “Is that your kid’s name? Yeah, we’ve got him too, don’t worry. I’m gonna carry him the whole way back, okay? He’s safe with me.” Christopher’s safe. Eddie rests back against the snow, hand searching for something but he’s not sure what. A heated gloved hand envelops his and there’s the voice again. “It’s okay, we’ve got you. You’re safe now.” Safe. Yeah. That’s good. Slowly, Eddie slips into the darkness that’s been threatening to consume him for days. He did it. They’re saved.

No pressure tagging @theotherbuckley @hippolotamus @watchyourbuck @thewolvesof1998 @disasterbuckdiaz @puppyboybuckley @bucksbackwardcap @fortheloveofbuddie @spotsandsocks @aroeddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @pirrusstuff @housewifebuck @daffi-990 @jesuisici33 @tizniz @steadfastsaturnsrings @wikiangela @buckbuckgoose @exhuastedpigeon @cal-daisies-and-briars @wildlife4life @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @evanbegins @nmcggg @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @babytrapperdiaz

[the-kipsabian]

wrestling fic writers!!

i have decided to be the change i wanna see, so lets do a nice little thing for each other, as a community full of incredible and talented writers. yes this is writer specific only, but thats cause thats where the main problem of people not interacting with creative works lies in this fandom as far as i can tell and have seen people talking about it especially in the last couple of months

if you read this, please add links to your written works. it can be just a single fic youre really proud of, your writing blog, your writing tag, your ao3 account, anything where your works can be found

and if you leave your link here, PLEASE check out someone else that has left their works, and interact with them. leave them a comment, even just a kudos, REBLOG their fic, etc. interacting is the keyword i want to emphasize here, along with building a sort of a masterpost of where to find people writing in this fandom

and if you are not a writer, youre still highly encouraged to interact with this post and share it and show love to the writers in this fandom, obviously!! i think that should go without saying, but adding it in anyways

a bit more about my vision and resources and such under the read more, but thats the gist of it. happy linking and please be kind and supportive to each other!! 💜

nobody is too big or too small to add their things on this list. if you write and post anything in this fandom whatsoever, be it fics or drabbles or headcanons, any companies or any kind of ships or reader inserts or any content whatsoever no matter how 'dead dove dont eat' or hell even if its just meta, we welcome all here and nobody can say that one thing is less valid than another. just please tag your content accordingly, especially if theres content warnings, and feel free to mention what you write, who you write, any info you wish to leave that would help people before they click on your links. but even so, that should not and hopefully will not deter people from interacting, no matter what it is. someones trash is another ones treasure, i promise you

and unless the amount gets really overwhelming, im personally going to be checking out everyone that leaves something here. unless it squeaks me out, but even then, i'll spread the word. and i just wish as many people as possible will do the same, and not just use this as a potential board to only get eyes on their stuff. ofc thats also the point, but you should give as much, if not more, than you get. we need to be kind and supportive of one another (besides, from personal experience, if you show love to someone else, they are more likely to do it back than without you taking the first step, so... pay it forward)

as for resources, heres a few links that should be helpful in leaving comments and feedback. of course everyone does their own thing and no comment is too big or too small to leave, but for those who need them. if you have anything you'd like added to this list, dont hesitate to get in touch or drop it in the post yourself!!

101 comment starters

ao3 floating comment box

kudos html

dont know how to comment? easy solutions

a quick hot guide to commenting (by yours truly)

an overall guide to appreciating fanfic writers

and just in general.. leave people comments. leave them asks about their projects. just go over and gush about their work. i know it sounds embarrassing but writers love nothing more than to hear that someone likes what they are doing. if you find a fic that hasnt been updated in forever, comment on it. it might just be the spark the author needs to continue. while kudos and likes are nice, and just as valuable to some, its definitely in the words the people leave for them that matter the most. im not saying this to put pressure on anyone, its just how it is, and i feel like unless people are writers themselves, and even then sometimes, thats just hard to grasp, especially if the writer is a smaller and less popular one who doesnt get a lot of traffic in the first place

i think thats all. just be nice and considered to everyone, reblog peoples works, this post with others add ons and so forth. and if i find anyone talking shit here or at other writers for something they share, you'll be blocked and im probably taking your kneecaps. be fucking nice. we are all struggling here and we need to stick together

happy sharing and commenting 💜💜