#I'm copying over 3 chapters that are already on AO3

[candied-cae]

And Who Are We At The End Of The World? - The Best Welcome Party

Chapter 14/? - - - Read it on AO3

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Word Count: 11,681

Summary: With Eddie conscious for the first time since "the earthquake," a lot has to happen. Notably, he needs to be questioned by the Hawkins Police. But, of course, there may just be a little bit to check on before they deal with that responsibility...

More ST Fics

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At Steve’s house, everyone was still milling around after he and Lucas left. Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair still had a lot of stuff they needed to wrap their head around, and Nancy and Robin were feeling a little stir-crazy in the busy house, so they got an idea. They could run back to their houses, take showers, get changed, and then take off to ask the drama and band directors for their statements on Eddie.

Which would both get them out of the stressful atmosphere of Steve’s living room and give them something to do. And having something to do about how hopeless everything felt seemed to be the only way to get through it.

So, the two of them stuck around just long enough to make Hop sit down with them and agree to be a source. And to grab a couple of quotes so it’d sound like his words, and if anyone bugged him about it he knew what to say. A little bit here about “All kids find their own outlets for rebellion, I’ve pulled over almost every student who’s gone through that high school at least once since I’ve been here.” A line to specify “But Eddie Munson’s never been a very big thorn in my side. Can’t see him having done all this without a good motive. Which nobody’s been able to find.” And then they just rounded it out with a note about circumstantial evidence and there not being enough of anything to make sense to pin it on him. All according to a guy who used to be the city's chief of police.

Then they were able to drive off for their next steps, Nancy obviously the one behind the wheel and dropping Robin off before she went back to her place.

When Nancy got back to her house her dad was, thankfully, back at work. So it was just Holly and Amber sitting around a plastic tea set in the living room while Amber’s mom watched the news. She was able to head right on upstairs without much fuss.

But, while it didn’t take long for Nancy to take care of her own business, Robin had a bit more of a headache to deal with.

Her mom was again not happy she ran off, but it was easier to settle her down when Robin had her call Steve’s house and a parent answered. Joyce had confirmed that there had been chaperones there all night, and there were a whole bunch of them over, not just Steve and Robin alone. As if that would’ve meant anything anyway. But one phone call later and she was able to slip away and clean up so she could get to her plans with Nancy.

When she climbed out of the shower, however, she was interrupted by her mother calling for her.

“Robin!”

The girl was squeezing a towel around the ends of her hair to pull the water out - she hadn’t washed her hair, but the ends got damp anyway - and she yelled back,“ Uh, yeah?”

“You’ve got a call!”

Robin considered trying to run to the wall phone half-dressed or letting her mom try to stall with small talk as she pulled on her jeans. She decided she didn’t really like either option,“ Just tell Nancy I’ll be ready for pickup whenever she gets here!”

“It’s not a Nancy!” Theresa said from the kitchen as Robin reached for her shirt,“ It’s a Vickie!”

And all at once, she felt her heart jump to her throat. She threw on the shirt, haphazardly yelling,“ I’ll be right there!”

Once she got the article over her head, she yanked it down and barreled out of the bathroom. Quickly stealing the phone from her mother’s hands and turning the corner away to be further away from her mother’s listening ears.

“Heeyyy…” She started. But, no way, that sounded so awkward. She coughed and tried again,” I mean, hey. Hey, Vickie. How are- How are you?”

“Hi, hi, and hi to you too, Robin,” she said with a light fluttery giggle that made Robin’s heart seize again,” I’m good. And you are?”

“Good! I am good also.”

Robin was failing at this, right? She was failing at their first phone call. She was all jumpy, and too excited, and not saying words in the right order, and she had to sound so ridiculous-

But she pushed through it anyway. Digging her nails into her palm to try and keep herself from getting all high-pitched from the nerves, she said,” So, uh, how’d you… track me down?”

“Looked you up in the phone book. There aren’t any other Buckleys in town, you know.” Vickie said it like it was obvious.

Because it kind of was. It was how Robin would’ve found Vickie’s number if she had felt so bold. Maybe if she and Steve had been able to find an hour alone, he would’ve built her up to it. But receiving the phone call felt pretty great too.

“Yeah, yeah.” Robin confirmed the very normal behavior,” So, did you need anything or- or what had you calling little ol’ me today?”

“I, um, sorta thought we could hang out? It was fun spending time with you at the high school the other day, and I’d like to do it some more. Unless you didn’t think it was fun and, instead, I’m just the kind of girl who’s nice for company when there’s literally no one else to talk to, and in that case, I’ll just hang up, and we don’t have to talk about this-”

“No!” Robin leaped in to correct Vickie’s unfounded concern,“ No, no, no, I do not think that. I would like to hang out. With you. Too. I had fun on Saturday too. So, yeah, I’d really like to make some plans to spend time together again.”

And there was Vickie’s cute little fluttery giggle again,“ Cool. Um, I know things are still sort of crazy in town, but my parents would give me the keys to the car if you wanted to come up with an errand to run or something, and we could get some lunch after?”

“Yeah, that sounds great. I’d love to- like to do that-”

Calm down, Robin, don’t freak her out.

And, just as Robin was taming her excitement, she remembered she was already expecting a girl to come by,” Oh, yeah... I kind of had plans to help Nance with something…”

Vickie got a little quieter,“ Oh, well, we can raincheck if you want to-”

“No! I, um… actually, if you wanted to help, we were going to talk to Mr. Thompson.”

“The band director?” the girl asked.

“Well, him and Ms. Reynolds. We wanted to get, like, a statement on Eddie’s character from them. See if they had anything nice to say for an article about how he didn’t do it.”

“Oh,” Vickie said it like she was trying to understand the idea. And that made sense. She wasn’t on the inside team, so she didn’t know everything they did. Didn’t know Eddie that well. She’s just been knee-deep in rumors the whole time.

So Robin supplied,“ Which, by the way, he didn’t. It’s a long story, but we were with him pretty much the whole time, and it was actually Jason! Not Eddie, and-”

“Jason? Jason Carver?”

“Yeah. Like I said, it’s a long story, and I can tell you some more about it later, but Eddie really is innocent. I swear. Thing is, even when he wakes up and can explain everything to get the police to drop the charges, a lot of people probably won’t believe it. They’ll say stuff about how he got away with it and make his life a living... nightmare," she barely caught herself from saying 'hell'. A mistake she usually didn't have much trouble avoiding, but she was just so focused on Vickie that she almost missed it," Anyway, Nancy wanted to write something for the school paper to help show people he’s a good guy.

“And he is? A good guy, I mean.” Vickie still asked, though she was beginning to sound like she believed it.

“Yeah. He is.” Robin asserted,” And, since we’re both in band, if you wanted to come, we could probably divide and conquer faster. We can check with Mr. Thompson, and she can go to Ms. Reynolds. So that could be our errand and then get some lunch after.”

“Then, yeah, I’d love to help. You sure Nancy will be okay with me just kinda hijacking you at the last minute?”

“Oh yeah! Definitely. I’ll just let her know what’s going on, and we can all meet up after to share notes.”

“Sounds good. You want to get together now, or do you want me to head over later?”

“Now’s fine. I just got done getting ready to head out with her anyway, so I am all good to go. I can give you the address-”

“It’s in the yellow pages right below the phone number.”

Robin nodded to herself,“ Yes, of course, it is, duh. Then I will see you in a few.”

“See you then, Robin.”

“Bye, Vickie.”

Robin bit into her bottom lip under her wide grin as she hung up the phone. It took everything in her to not stomp around her feet to get all the joyous energy out. Her cheeks were probably bright pink, and her hair had to be a mess, and she’d have to be sneaky to throw on some mascara and her favorite rings before she got out the door if she wanted to look even a little put together.

But it was Vickie. It was Vickie inviting her out for the day. It almost actually sounded like a date. And Robin dared to consider that Vickie’s voice and tone seemed like she knew how it sounded...

Which was insane. She still never thought the chance was real. Even after they volunteered together, and Steve tried so hard to hype her up, she was half-convinced that nothing would come of it besides his false hope. But it was real. And now she had something to work for.

And it was still scary.

But she tried to focus on what Steve told her between all his insisting that Vickie really liked her.

“Be yourself, and all that junk.”

Robin’s own advice thrown back at her. So Robin was just going to have to try to focus on being herself. And all that junk.

Worst-case scenario, she’ll at least be able to tease Steve about the fact that his idea was ridiculous and didn’t work. Which felt like a security blanket, honestly. At the end of the day, if the whole thing went horribly, she'd still find some way to laugh about it with her best friend...

“What was it?” her mother asked from around the corner where she had been reading the newspaper and sipping a cup of coffee that they both knew was mostly creamer.

Robin poked her head over to look at her and attempted to settle herself to answer casually,“ Oh! Vickie’s just gonna help me and Nance with something! We’re going to head out in a bit and ask the band teacher a few questions.”

“The band teacher? Mr. Thompson?” Theresa asked folding and setting down the paper on the kitchen table as she leaned back in the chair.

But even Robin could tell her mother must have done everything she could to eavesdrop. Probably sat so still that the chair didn’t squeak, didn’t drink from her mug so she could listen, and held the paper in loose fingers so it didn’t crinkle the whole time... So she already knew all about what she was asking about. Why they needed to play around it, Robin never understood, but they did. It’s what they did. If they didn’t - if Robin tried to skip the unnecessary explanation - it would turn into a conversation about her manners.

So, instead, Robin confirmed,“ Yeah, Mr. Thompson,” and waited for the next question.

“What do you girls need him for?”

“Well, Eddie was in the school band for a few years. Didn’t do pep band or anything, but Mr. Thompson should still know him.” she clarified,” So we wanted to see if he had anything nice to say about him for an article on Eddie’s innocence. Make sure he doesn’t get mounted on a stake in the town square the minute the police unlock his cuffs.”

Her mother nodded along and took another sip of her coffee,“ Alright. Make sure you’re home tonight or tell me ahead of time if something changes. Before it gets dark out so I know I don’t need to worry.”

“I will, Mom.”

Her mother began to pick back up her newspaper and held out an open hand. The signal Robin always returned by blowing a kiss that she’d pretend to snap her hand around and pat into her chest. Which was another comfort. That was also their thing. Besides any tenseness or misunderstandings, once things settled Robin’s mother would always silently ask for a kiss. And Robin would always send one her way.

And just as Robin was bounding back to the bathroom to brush out her hair and try to doll herself up, at least a little bit, the doorbell rang.

“Wow, Vickie must’ve been pretty close,” Theresa commented from her newspaper.

But when Robin opened the door, it wasn’t Vickie on her front doorstep, but Nancy.

Nancy lit up when she was met with the other girl, a light bounce on her feet that had her curls spring on her shoulders,“ Ready to go?”

“Oh, Nance….” Robin said as she realized she didn’t even have time to try and call ahead to let her know about the change in plans.

“Yes?” Nancy’s eyes brows quirked, and her smile went a little nervous,” Should I be hurt by that reaction?”

“No! Um, I just got a call from Vickie,” she began to explain.

Though, just that on its own didn’t mean much to Nancy.

“Vickie?”

“Yeah! She wanted to help out with the teachers.”

“She did?” Nancy asked.

She found that a little hard to believe, considering the two of them only just got the idea the night before themselves. How did Vickie Nelson hear about it, and why does she care all that much? Clearing Eddie’s name was their business. Not hers.

But Robin just simply smiled back,“ Yeah! So I thought it’d be faster if we split up! She and I could scope out the band director - since he already knows us so well - and you can take care of Ms. Reynolds with no problem. And then we can share the info later and see how useful any of it might be.”

“Oh.”

“That okay?”

Nancy wasn’t trying to seem sour about it. She wasn’t trying to guilt trip her or make a big deal out of it. Robin had seemed all cheery about the idea, Nancy didn’t want to rain on her parade. So she pulled herself together and snapped out of whatever funk she slipped into a moment ago.

“Uh, yeah, yeah. It’s fine. Just- here, take the questions we drew up last night. I’ll write myself a new copy, and we can get together later,” Nancy tore out a sheet of paper from her notebook and handed it over.

“Yeah, I’ll just be one walkie-away if anything comes up!” Robin nodded, accepting it with her easy-going grin still splayed across her face.

“Well, have fun,” Nancy wished her well as she began to turn back to her car.

“Thanks. You too!” Robin threw over her shoulder as she closed the door and was gone.

Okay. That stung.

The whole interaction stung.

Which was weird. Shouldn’t have really stung that much. Nancy and Robin were just new friends. Robin had other friends. It was fine. Maybe Nancy was just kind of put off since they made plans together, and now Robin was dropping them off for someone else. Yeah, anyone would be annoyed by that.

Yeah.

But either way, Nancy packed herself back into her car and breathed for a minute. Got her new notes jotted down. Then she saw Vickie park across the street. The other girl stepped out of the car. Looked around and sort of shook out her arms. Like she was nervous or something. But then she set her eyes on Robin’s front door and walked forward with a kind of determination Nancy supposed she’s worn when she was chasing a good story. Vickie made it up the steps and rang the doorbell, turned around, and shook out her arms again when she locked eyes with Nancy.

She froze. Her eyes were wide, her arms hanging off her a little awkwardly as she just stared back at Nancy in her station wagon. Like she’d been caught doing something wrong.

Nancy pulled her expression into a tightlipped smile. Something simple and polite but not exactly totally friendly. She was still a little annoyed about getting dumped- more like bailed on. Yeah, bailed on. But she gave a little wave anyway, and Vickie unfroze to wave back, wearing her own nervous smile.

And then the door opened, and Vickie spun around without hesitation. So Nancy started the car and drove off before she got a good look at Robin in her doorway again.

She had work to get to.

Robin and Vickie would climb into the Nelson’s hatchback and find Mr. Thompson, while Nancy picked up Jonathan to go with her for Ms. Reynolds.

The pair of girls took off for their director’s house and found themselves gigging a lot to the radio. Their music taste didn’t perfectly match up, but there was some notable overlap that they found entertaining for the drive. Vickie complimented Robin's jewelry, she did end up having just enough time to slip some on along with a coat of mascara before her doorbell rang again. Robin absolutely blushed and complimented Vickie. Said she liked the pale teal spirals she wore before, but the dangling green diamonds were great too.

When the drive was done, and they'd actually arrived to talk to Mr. Thompson, he had good things to say. Which was a real relief to Robin.

Turned out Eddie’s not only been in band since middle school, but he’d even stay after school for extra lessons when he was picking up guitar. Mr. Thompson had liked the kid. He was the kind of music student that every teacher wants to teach. The kind that loved it and had a knack for the ability. From piano to guitar, Eddie loved music with an intensity that most people never did. Loved it through his first senior year. He ended up not coming back in ‘84, even though he was still at the high school. Thompson had tried reaching out, but Eddie seemed different when he did.

Just said he had too much on his plate - his own band and trying to make money to help his uncle - and walked away.

Mr. Thompson let it go. He had other students to worry about.

But Eddie Munson, that was a good kid who loved music, even if he liked to find ways to play that weren’t entirely classical or conventional. Mr. Thompson remarked about some combative behavior sometimes. But it was more usually aimed at the other students when Eddie felt like they weren’t trying at all or didn’t care, less so at the director himself. At the end of the day, Mr. Thompson wondered what had happened to him when he stopped seeing Eddie loiter in the band hall, but he was never very sold on the idea that he had turned into a killer after less than two short years since they last spoke.

And the statements helped Vickie see Eddie as the good guy who was thrown into a bad situation that Robin knew he was.

The other pair were having a less fun time. Nancy was still wound up, and she wasn’t really sure why. Which only pissed her off more. Jonathan had something to say but didn’t want to spring it on her while she was in a bad mood. Not that it was the kind of news that should be used to ruin a good mood either…

Jonathan was in trouble. Really, really in trouble. He couldn't procrastinate for a few months again, but it was so much harder to say something when he was actually sitting next to her.

It was a quiet drive on their end.

Then they met with the teacher. Who also had pretty good stuff to say about Eddie. Turns out drama teachers usually couldn’t care less about “conventional”. Ms. Reynolds said she was always partial to more experimental fine arts anyway. And Eddie was loud and passionate in classes, that’s the sort of stuff that thrived in drama departments and drove creativity. He had presence and theatrics and was always paling around with Jeff in the back of her classroom. It was also apparently Eddie that had roped Gareth into helping out with set construction for the musical they just put on. And Josie was in the orchestra pit while Bruce helped with lights. Seemed all of Corroded Coffin had come together in her department at one point or another.

Which is how it had been so easy to convince her to sign off on letting them use the drama room for their Hellfire meetings anyway.

Their little crew was still a little divisive with some of the other drama kids. Their dark clothes and leather and metal set them apart. But Ms. Reynolds always liked them. Always appreciated the way they were willing to do whatever to help. And Eddie was the core, or leader, of that.

She had a few good things to say about the kid. He was weird, but unapologetically himself. And she was happy to go on the record that, as wild as he was, she believed that he didn’t do it.

All in all, Robin and Nancy’s mission could be considered a success.

Even if they didn’t do it together.

Now, Eddie himself was in a state of confusion.

He was still sort of reeling from the fact that Steve had been there at all. Steve Harrington had been there. Sat in the chair at his hospital bedside wearing stupid, boring jeans and a dusty, red sweatshirt like it was the most casual thing. The chair didn’t even look very comfortable. But Steve sat in it, more than once he sat there for a few hours and- that’s so weird.

Eddie wasn’t making it up, right?

He wasn’t going crazy from demobat rabies, right?

Steve had been there.

Right?

It was… it was just so weird.

Freaky, one could even say.

Yeah, they’d gotten mixed up in the same problem recently. But to come back for him, to sit at his bedside while he lay unconscious… It wasn't “right.” Didn’t make sense in the world Eddie Munson came from, even if he was starting to accept that place was long gone.

Steve… Steve Harrington was an enigma. For all four of Eddie���s years that they shared at high school together,

Steve Harrington was an enigma.

Even in Steve’s freshman year, he was the talk of the town. Good looking kid, with passable grades that were more easily accepted when everyone saw how he did in competitive sports. He was doing it all. Basketball, Baseball, Swim Team. And on top of that, his folks had crazy money and this big house he could sometimes swing parties at. He was adopted into the top dogs faster than anyone had ever seen.

In his sophomore year, he found his footing. Started to know exactly how he was fitting into things and how to take charge even though he was still an underclassman to most. Started to solidify the group of kids he hung out with along the upper crust. Started getting swarmed by girls. A whole slew of rumors were buzzing around after that about all the babes he was shmoozing between classes.

Though, his junior year might've been the height of it. He seemed like he was soaring in those days. Just basking in the awesomeness of everything in his life going right for him. And then he bagged little miss perfect. And then something happened to him before winter break. And he fell out with most of his old buddies. Focused a little harder on his classes. Fell into place wherever Nancy was.

And then his senior year was like watching him get snuffed out. All at once, he’d lost pretty much everything, except for his girlfriend. And then more shit happened just before winter break… and Steve Harrington didn’t even have that anymore. So he coasted by until he was out. Just sort of kept his head down and managed his social standing without some of the… previous assholery he was a part of. Even if Eddie didn’t believe it at the time. Kept trying to be a big man on campus, but most of his moves fell flat until he quietly graduated. And that was that.

And then… next time Eddie saw Steve up close, he was pushing him against the wall of his dealer's boat house. Trying to come to terms with all the truly insane stuff Henderson was telling him, Steve just nodded along. Then Eddie was fighting for his life alongside him, a fight he was pretty sure he’d lost. But he didn't. And Steve stuck around.

Freaky.

And that’s coming from “The Freak.”

But Eddie didn’t have much longer to dwell on it, because a slightly timid voice spoke from his doorway,“ Eddie…”

And looking over to see - instead of a nurse - one of his own little Hellions, his mouth open up into a wide smile instantly,“ Lucas! How’d you get here so fast? Harrington just left.”

Lucas took his bright expression as a sign to come on further in, so he took steps forward as he made his way to the chair Steve had previously occupied,“ I was just across the hall. I’ve been spending time with Max whenever I can.”

“Ahhhh…” Eddie nodded sagely, as if he wasn’t still playing catch up on what exactly those two had going on,” So, what’re you doing over here on my side then?”

“Wanted to see you up,” Lucas answered simply as he took his seat.

“Wish I could give you a show. I’d do a flip for you if it weren’t for these beauties.” Eddie teased with a jingle of his cuffs against the bed rail.

And then Lucas’s face went something sadder as he carefully asked,“ … so you’re really okay?"

Eddie shrugged, hoping it’d ease the kid a little. He looked kind of nervous for some reason,“ Yeah, man. I guess. I’m a little tender all over, but I’ll be fine. Not planning to abandon you kids any time soon. You’d all make a mess of my club if I didn’t finish up business myself before graduation.”

Eddie ended his line with a light chuckle, but Lucas didn’t respond. He looked a little gone, like his mind was elsewhere. And maybe Eddie should’ve assumed he was thinking about Max next door, but for some reason, he just had this nagging feeling that it was something else.

“Hey, you alright, Sinclair?” he wondered, letting his tone dip a little softer than he usually used it.

“Yeah. Yeah. It’s nothing.” Lucas tried to shake his expression off, but Eddie saw it. And then it clicked.

Oh.

Hellfire.

One of the last things Eddie did before his whole world changed, was exclude Lucas from Hellfire. And things have been so unbelievably crazy the entire time since that day that… he completely forgot.

Shit.

He was a bad friend on Friday, and he hasn’t said anything to Lucas about it.

“I’m sorry, Lucas.”

And Lucas flinched back into himself. So surprised by the out of nowhere apology he had to sit up and try to joke,“ For being in a coma? I know you didn’t do it on purpose-”

“No. For Hellfire,” Eddie corrected,” I’m sorry you weren’t at the last game.”

“Oh,” Lucas seemed to be struggling to figure out what to do with the words that he just moved to brush them away,” I… it’s fine. I was busy at the championship-“

Eddie stopped him from acting like it wasn’t a big deal,“ Lucas. Would you just let me apologize to you?”

And Lucas was tense and quiet for a minute. But eventually, he let out a breath and sat back deeper into the chair,“ Okay.”

“I’m sorry.”

Eddie started it seriously. Let the words sit on their own for a second before he tried to explain himself.

“It feels silly now to think about how worked up I was on Friday. Okay? Like, there are way bigger things than me just wanting stuff to go the way I planned. And… at the end of the day, I wanted you to be there. I know you’ve been juggling Hellfire with basketball, and we usually made it work, but then Hawkins unexpectedly qualified for the big tournament, or whatever, and… I don’t know. I got pissed. I've always hated the basketball guys. Felt like you were different from them- and you are, for the record. You’re different than them in all the best ways. But I got disappointed when I thought about you being with the cool crowd instead of the freaks. Made me feel like you were rejecting us, or leaving us behind for popularity…”

Lucas was shaking his head,“ That’s not-“

“I know,” Eddie told him anyway,” I know that’s not something you’d do, Sinclair. I was just making myself mad when I could’ve been going about it another way. I’ve got a few faults, and quick to anger is one of ‘em. It was cool and all meeting the littler Sinclair - don’t get me wrong - but I do wish you’d been with us for the end of the campaign. And most of the reason you couldn’t be was my fault because I was being stubborn. So I’m sorry. Really.”

And Lucas looked so much lighter in that chair after Eddie was done. Like some secret fear he’d been harboring since Friday that Eddie hated him was just run off. He even looked a little misty-eyed as he brought back his smile.

“I forgive you,” he said, though after a moment. It took him a bit to realize Eddie was waiting for it.

And then Eddie smiled back at him,“ Thanks. Was it a good game at least?”

Well. That astounded the boy.

“You want to hear about my game? You? Eddie Munson? A basketball game?”

Eddie tossed his head side to side like he was mulling it over,“ Well, maybe skip all the boring sporty bits and just tell me the highlights. Final score and stuff. But yeah, tell me about it.”

“Well, um,” Lucas shifted a little closer as he tried to remember how it all happened now that it felt like forever ago,” We’d been kinda neck-in-neck with the last team all night, the Falcons. They’d score, we’d score, we’d score some more, they’d even it right out. It was back and forth the whole game. And then Adam got knocked down… so they pulled me off the bench.”

“Wait a minute, you're saying you actually made it on the floor?” Eddie noticed, which made Lucas light up a little brighter. Now more confident that Eddie was actually interested in listening to him talk about his game.

“Yeah.”

“Ain’t that the first time that’s happened all year?”

He let out a soft chuckle,“ Yeah. It was.”

“You’re kidding…” Eddie leaned back and shook his head, remembering all the times his freshman would complain to each other at the lunch table about Lucas not getting to do anything worth watching.

“Well, if you’re impressed by that, how do you feel about hearing that I made the buzzer beater that won the whole thing?” he tempted.

And then Eddie’s attention shot back up to him,“ What?”

“We were down by one point, just the one, and there were ten seconds left on the clock. Jason tried to make the shot, but the ball hit the rim and bounced off. And I was the one who caught it. I just- It was just in my hands, and I dove out of the huddle, and… there wasn’t any time to think about it. So I took the shot. And it spun around the rim, jumped back out, and hit the backboard, but then it sunk. We won. We beat ‘em, 70 to 69.”

“That’s… that’s incredible, Lucas.” Eddie sounded dumbfounded. He really wasn’t a sporty guy, but even he could picture it. He wasn’t dumbfounded out of confusion, he was just that amazed.

Lucas got a little bashful,“ It was just-“

“No. No, that’s really cool, man,” and then the realization hit,” And we stole your sister so she couldn’t cheer you on…”

“Yeah… I was a little mad about that,” he admitted.

“I’m sorry about that too. You shoulda had someone there.”

“I wasn’t alone. The team practically paraded me around. And Steve was there in the audience. Robin was with the band. Even Nancy was there for the school paper. They cheered pretty loud when it happened.”

He sighed a little wistfully,“ I wish I saw it too.”

And, well, Lucas knew Eddie was trying to make up for everything, but that had to have been an outright lie.

“You hate basketball.”

“Yeah, I do. But I like you, kid. You’re one of my little freaks, and it would have been nice to see you do something that cool. Watch the whole school cheer you on even though you’re a nerd like the rest of us in Hellfire.”

And that…

‘You’re one of my little freaks’

It did a lot for Lucas. He’d honestly been a little scared the whole time that the game would be the final straw. The thing that set him away from Hellfire completely. Until the club became something only Dustin and Mike got to be a part of. But Eddie still thought Lucas was one of his.

He wasn’t getting thrown away.

“Thanks, Eddie,” he finally said when he didn’t think his voice was going to crack.

“Thank you for letting me in on a little of it. Even though I was a dick on Friday.”

The boy tried to walk that back,“ I wouldn’t say-”

“You can say it. One-time free pass since I’m admitting my shortcomings and humbling myself right now.”

And so, through a warm laugh, Lucas agreed,“ Okay, yeah, you were kind of a dick.”

“Thank you,” Eddie laughed a little with him,“ Now, tell me something about this plan Harrington mentioned. Wanna make sure I’ll be able to play my part well.”

Lucas ran over the bare bones with him. Just spent enough time on it that Eddie would know what to say, and then he called a nurse in. Eddie played like he was a little loopy for a few minutes to pass as him off as having just woken up. She checked his vitals and then called in a doctor who told that same nurse to get on the phone with the police department and Eddie’s uncle.

That was when they kicked Lucas out and sent him back across the hall. To make sure the cops wouldn’t have any arguments about the honesty of his interrogation. They really underestimated this Party, if only they knew.

By the end of it, people were on the way and Eddie was getting worn out. Turned out it was hard work waking up from a coma and socializing. He’d fallen back asleep before anyone new arrived at the hospital, but the next time he woke up someone had arrived.

It was Wayne. His wrinkled uncle Wayne. Uncle Wayne, who just looked so exhausted with his eyebrows pinching together, carefully watching Eddie’s hand held within his. Wet eyes that didn't move or blink as he waited to see his boy come back to him.

So Eddie squeezed it and groaned out,“ Hey, old man.”

And the familiar sound of Wayne’s worn and lovingly gruff chuckle was like the sun after such a god-awful week. He took back one of his own hands to wipe under his eyes for a moment before putting it back and smiling at him,” There he is. The man of the hour.”

“Here I am.” Eddie smiled back at Wayne from under sleepy eyes.

His uncle squeezed his hand tighter,“ I got real scared there. Thought I wouldn’t ever see you again.”

“Aw, Wayne, you know you can’t get rid of me that easy. I’m still your problem just like I’ve always been.”

“No, never been a problem,” he corrected.

“Now, I know you’re getting too sappy and lying to me. I am nothing if not a headache.”

Wayne cracked a deeper smile and leaned in closer to brush his hand gently over Eddie’s dark curtain of hair.

“I’ll take the headache, kid.” He told him as he rested his thumb on his nephew’s cheek.

Which was such a Wayne thing to do and say. He was a man’s man. Working with his hands and watching westerns on his days off. That's the kind of classic man he was. They didn’t get all mushy on one another very often. It was an unspoken but entirely understood thing, that they loved each other.

But that line was such a Wayne way to say it.

And then Wayne mentioned,“ You know, you didn’t didn’t get to tell me how the story went.”

“The story?” Eddie wondered for a moment.

“The one you were finishin’ up on Friday. With the big twist surprise you were settin’ up for those kiddos.”

“Oh.”

Because, of course, Wayne would bring up his DnD campaign.

Eddie told him about every single one.

He never bothered with giving him stats or explaining the different dice rolls and how that all worked, but he would practice the story with him. He’d share the bits he’d assume Hellfire would work through during that week’s session while he got all his notes prepared, and - usually the next day Wayne was able - they’d sit down over breakfast, and he’d tell his uncle all about how the party actually played through it.

Wayne loved it. It was like listening to his own private movie told by his nephew. He’d get version one with how it was supposed to work, and then he’d get version two with all meandering and funny jabs from the characters and how they came around the problem. And Eddie would always light up while he talked about it.

But he never got to see Eddie after Friday night, after what was supposed to be the big finale.

“So, how’d it go?” he asked again.

And maybe it would’ve been wise of Eddie to spend the time with his uncle telling him what sort of week he’s just had. Answering all the questions and explaining how serious he was when he talked about monsters this time. But, strangely, it seemed so much more important to talk about the session.

“Well, those rugrats… they really pulled out all the stops.” Eddie told him, shifting around as he continued,” You see, Lucas has this big game come up suddenly. He couldn’t be there. And it would have meant they couldn’t play through the end of the campaign that night. So Dustin and Mike were running all over school trying to find someone to sub in for him. And then they showed up at Hellfire with Lucas’s kid sister! I’m not kidding! This little middle schooler named Erica struts in. And I’m looking at her, thinking there’s no way she’s hardcore enough. She’s practically a baby- and she probably doesn’t even know how DnD works- and she’s all pretty ‘n pink- so there’s just no way! She doesn’t have the metal for it, end of story. I was sure of it. But she busts in any way with this little monologue about just how hardcore she is… And it honestly blew me away a little. So we initiate her as an unofficial member and then we all sat down to start the game…”

And they just talked. Talked and talked about the game. Every second of it made Wayne feel a hundred times better. The longer Eddie spoke about one of his greatest passions, the more Wayne could be sure he wasn’t going to crumble to pieces in his hands.

After that was when Eddie knew he had to tell him about all the shit he’s been through. He couldn’t even imagine not telling his Wayne how crazy it really was. Not explaining why he came home Saturday morning to a body in their trailer. Not explaining why he so absolutely couldn’t go back to his uncle to ask for help. Not explaining that he climbed into hell and almost died in there for a chance at ending some great evil.

That just wasn’t something he could keep from him. Wayne would know he was bottling something up. He was always good at making him talk.

So he talked.

When they got through it all, Wayne just huffed and told him,“ You really did scare me, you know? I wasn’t sure if I’d get a call to identify a body, or if you’d just run away from everything here and I’d never know any better-”

“Sorry…”

“No. Don’t you say you're sorry. You didn’t do nothing wrong. We’re going to make sure they know that.”

Eddie rolled his eyes,“ I don’t think they’ll just take your word for it.”

And then, from the door came the phrase,“ It’s not just his word.”

And it was Dustin Henderson, his mother standing right behind him.

“Henderson,” Eddie’s relief swelled to see the kid alright, then he added,“ And Mrs. Henderson.”

Officer Callahan had been hot on their heels showing up behind them as he started saying something about them not being allowed to see Eddie until they questioned him, how they had been instructed to go wait in Max’s room with the others. So the others were there too. But the two of them walked in anyway, completely ignoring the officer. Claudia took Eddie’s free hand, similarly to how she had Steve’s just the other morning.

And Eddie was just shocked that someone who was effectively a stranger was looking at him with kind eyes. He hadn’t expected to get that kind of treatment.

“My Dusty-bun tells me you stuck with him through the… earthquake. Made sure he was okay, and stayed safe even though the goddamn world was falling to pieces. Is that true?” she asked him, already very sure of the answer but wanting to hear him say it himself.

And something was flickering in the way she said it. ‘The… earthquake.’ So she knew it wasn’t really an earthquake. Which - as he thought about it - he remembered hearing Steve mutter about some parents finding out.

So Eddie gripped the bedrail and pushed himself to sit up in his bed, trying to be just a little awestruck, and answered.

“Yes ma’am,” like how Wayne always wanted him to say to adults. He usually bucked against the whole respecting your elders and authority figures thing, but for Dustin’s mother, he’d make an exception.

Her sweet smile pressed further into her plush cheeks, and she reached up to gently pat his hair with her hand, so very similar to how Wayne had,” Thank you. I will never be able to thank you enough for helping watch out for my baby-”

“Mom-” the kid groaned as if he could possibly still be surprised by the way his mother coddled him.

“So if you ever need anything, you can always reach out to us. Don’t even bother asking first, just take what you need.”

“That’s…”

Ridiculous. It was ridiculous to receive an offer like that from some little suburban mom. Even if she shared Dustin’s DNA and contributed to the weirdness of the little guy, she was still… just some mom. Not his.

But she pressed on,“ You saved me from my greatest fear. So whatever you need. And all of us are going to make sure everyone knows what really happened, as much as we can-”

“Okay,” Callahan tried to step in,” You can’t talk about the investigation before we’ve been able to question him-”

But then Ms. Henderson raised her finger to silence him while she turned back to Eddie,“ Do you feel up for their questions, honey?”

And that stunned him a second time. To watch Claudia Henderson shut up a policeman with a single finger and wait for Eddie’s cue before she was going to let anything happen. It was just stunning.

“Uh- yeah. Yeah, sure,” he croaked out when words came back to him.

“Alright,” she looked back at the man in blue,” Then ask him your questions so you can uncuff him and leave the poor boy alone.”

Callahan was readying to tell her about how that’s not exactly how it works,“ Ma’am-”

When Powell entered the room and interrupted him with a warning tone,“ Callahan.”

“They-” he began sputtering and motioning his hands at the pair who weren’t supposed to be in the room.

But before he could really argue, the Chief spoke to the mother,“ Ms. Henderson, you know you were supposed to go across the hall-”

“Well, we got over here just fine.” she innocently shrugged.

Chief Powell looked back at the officer with a disappointed glare as Callahan attempted to excuse himself,“ I tried-”

But Ms. Henderson was absolutely not allowing the two of them to waste time on it,“ Are you going to question him and get it over with?”

“Yes. Okay? If we could have everyone clear the room now? He’s not a minor; he can do this on his own.”

And then Claudia Henderson had the gall to look back at Eddie and wait for his blessing. Again. Like she was really willing to put her foot down and argue some more with the cops. Which- okay- maybe that was pretty badass. Way more than he was expecting from some prim and proper suburban mom. So Eddie gave her the nod she was looking for, and she placed her hands around Dustin’s shoulders to steer him into the other room.

Wayne gave his hand another tight squeeze and said,” You just holler and I’ll knock that door down, you hear?”

“I’ll be fine. Get outta here already,” Eddie squeezed his hand back.

Then Wayne let him go, and it was the first time he wasn’t being held since he arrived. His palm felt a little cold now. But he was okay. He was going to be okay.

Wayne left the room and followed the rest into the Max’s. They hadn’t all arrived yet. So far it was Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, Lucas, Erica, Mike, and now Dustin. They are also accompanied by Karen, The Sinclairs, Susan, and now Claudia and Wayne.

Hop and Joyce were on their way with Will, El, and Argyle. Murray said he’d stay behind “strategizing”. And Vickie was supposed to be dropping Robin off any minute. Apparently, they had just sat down to eat an early lunch together when Steve reached out to everyone. Which had been news to him. So he’d been waiting with a very specific kind of impatience ever since. If he didn’t get to squeeze every ounce of information about her first date - because he was absolutely calling this a date - by the end of the night, he was going to go crazy.

In the meantime, everyone mingled the best they could. Wayne thanked Claudia for her ferocity for his boy, she thanked him for raising such a good one. Mike was on the walkie asking for updates on how close the Hopper-Byers car was to the hospital every few minutes, going on and on about how excited he was for El and Will to meet Eddie. Nancy seemed tense but told everyone they had used the morning to make some progress in cleaning things up. And Dustin was talking to Lucas and Erica about how Eddie looked before he and his mother were kicked out.

The questioning went well.

At least, it felt like it did.

Eddie didn’t really have anything to compare it to, seeing as he’d always kept himself out of too much trouble before. But it seemed like it wasn’t awful. There wasn’t any yelling, and while they asked him to be more specific or clarify what he was saying, they hadn't argued against his claims. So maybe Steve was right when he said they were leaning his way. And maybe Robin and Nancy would be able to turn it all around for him somehow.

But he reminded himself not to get carried away and hope for too much while Chief Powell finished up.

“We’ve taken your statement, and will be going over it with the evidence and the other testimonies we have collected. We don’t have an answer for you now, but we’ll be back tomorrow with the final decision on how the Hawkins Police Department will be proceeding with the charges.”

“Okay.”

“In the meantime, the cuffs stay on. And the visitors can come back in, but we’ll be posting an officer to keep an eye on you-”

And that was when the door swung open. Seemed like the people around there really didn’t care about following the rules. Chief Powell’s face twitched as he braced himself to tear into whoever just barged in when he found himself looking at a dead man.

“Chief…?”

It was the only word that came to him after referring to the man by the title for so many years. He looked different now, but he was still so unmistakably Jim Hopper.

He stepped into the room and motioned,“ From what I hear, that’s your job now, Cal.”

“You… you’re… how are you…” he sputtered, Callahan next to him just standing in silent shock with a hand over his mouth.

“Long story. One I don’t really want to go over. How about we call it a kidnapping and move on?”

“Kidnapping?” Powell asked,” But you- eight months, Chie- Hop… Hop, it’s been eight months since… you ‘died’ in the mall fire. Did they all lie about you being there, or-”

“No, I was there. Don’t try to take away my Hero of Hawkins medal now. It was the dying part that just didn’t stick.” Hopper corrected.

Then Callahan found his voice,“ But what’re you…?”

Hop shrugged and looked at Eddie for a second, which was weird because they’d never really spoken, but now the guy was on his side, technically,“ Was listening by the door and thought I could ask about possibly forgoing some of that procedure.”

“What?”

“Look, the kid’s clearly been through hell enough already, Cal-”

“Hop…” Powell shook his head,” This case is already messy enough as is. Everything needs to be by the book from this point on-”

“Come on. Call it calling in a favor?” he tried.

Which pulled a small smile to the other’s face because it was just so much like him to ask,“ You have no favors to call in.”

“You’re right, I never stocked any up. But… what about it anyway?”

“Look… as soon as the choice has been made, you’ll know. We aren’t dragging our feet on this, but we can’t be caught making mistakes. I’ll assume you’ve seen the news?”

“Yes, I’ve seen the-”

“Then you know, this has to be done right. There are too many eyes on it, and too much has gone off the rails already.” He emphasized. Then he spared a glance back at Eddie, and the kid did seem kind of pathetic.

“But we can loosen the cuffs a notch. Looks like Daniels put ‘em on a little tight.” He gave, stepping up to unlock them and clicking them back in place more comfortably.

Hop came in close behind him to ask,“ Who’ll be assigned the babysitting duty?”

“I was going to give it to Nichols,” Powell answered.

“Okay…” Jim considered,” Yeah, Nichols is good…”

“Alright then. Go on and invite everyone else in and tell them the protocol. We have work to do back at the station.”

“Calvin?” he asked as the officers headed for the door.

“Jim?”

“Thank you.” He said,” Nichols is…”

“Nichols is good. I know. He’s good at his job and not an ass like some of them, so he shouldn’t make this next day of waiting too difficult on him.” Which was a phrase that made Eddie feel a whole lot better about the guy,” And even if you don’t want to explain where the hell you’ve been the last two-thirds of the year, least you could do is bring a cup of coffee by my new office and tell me what the hell you’re doing now.”

“Yeah. Least I could do.” Jim agreed.

Then Powell nodded and left. Just like that, Eddie had officially done all he could to clear up the mess, and then it was out of his hands. It felt weird, to be on the other side of the fear. He had been dreading it the entire time since he saw Chrissy die right in front of him. “How do I get out of this?” played over and over in his head whenever the world was too quiet. And now he faced it. And he just has to lie there and wait until there’s news.

But before he could stew in it any longer, there were all his kids - plus a few new faces - packed in the door of his room. The adults excused themselves, some heading off to pick up some food from the diner in town for everyone to eat for lunch while the rest just headed on home themselves. Each of them decided to let the youngsters reunite on their own for a little bit.

As soon as Eddie saw Michael Wheeler coming in, he broke out an excited,“ Hey! It’s Little Wheeler! Where have you been all week? Didn’t you hear we were all hanging out?”

Mike, who was just a moment ago beaming to see his DM awake, let his expression instantly drop at the nickname.

“Little Wheeler?” he questioned.

Eddie explained,“ Well, yeah, I can’t call you and your sister both ‘Wheeler’ after all.”

Mike argued,“ I should be the original ‘Wheeler’!”

“I’m not calling Nance ‘Big Wheeler’, dude.” Eddie rolled his eyes,“ Plus she’s cool. Way too cool to not be the standalone ‘Wheeler’. You know?”

Nancy was wearing a pretty smug look when Mike turned on her,“ You stole my DM.”

“What?”

“You stole my DM!” he repeated,” I leave for one week, and suddenly I’m ‘Little Wheeler’?”

She shrugged her shoulders at her brother,“ That’s not my fault. Stop being ‘Little Wheeler’ material.”

“I’m the taller one!”

Eddie reached out his hand to try and get in between them,“ Wheelers, Wheelers, you're both pretty. No need to fight for the affections of my heart-”

But Mike wasn’t even listening,“ Give it back!”

“Give it back?” she quoted back to him.

“Give it back!”

“I’m not ‘giving it back’, Mike. It’s a nickname. Earn a better one if you’re going to be so worked up about it. How about we give ‘Little Shit’ a try?” she offered.

They kept bickering between themselves as someone new stepped in a little closer to Eddie’s bedside.

He recognized her from the empty space in his head they’d met a few days ago, but he still didn’t really know her yet.

And then she looked at him with bashful eyes and began speaking,“ I like your hair. It’s… pretty.”

Eddie’s hair reminded her of her own before she woke up in that bed at the NINA project to see they'd cut it all off. She really liked having long hair. It was something that she was able to look at the mirror and say “It’s been so long since I was trapped there that now my hair goes past my shoulders.” She can’t say that anymore.

Because they caught her again.

And maybe she walked right into it but… she liked her long hair.

Missed it now.

And Eddie said, with a flourish,“ Why thank you, m’lady. Not exactly the style of flattery I usually aim for, but I am more than happy to accept it regardless.”

That’s right. Mike had said that Eddie was pretty “metal.” So maybe there was another word that fit him better.

“It’s also really… bitchin’.”

And Eddie just lit up. His eyes and smile widened at the soft-spoken girl,“ Oh my god, you’re my favorite now. Please, come closer, you little angel!”

He beckoned her with his hand as much as he could while still being restrained, and El’s own smile grew with her giggle as she stepped up to his bedside with more confidence. Her brother was just behind her, and Eddie had been about to greet him when two of the kids he already knew well enough yelled at him.

“Hey!” Mike and Dustin protested in unison. Both of them were clearly mad about the fact that he just called El his favorite, and he didn’t even know her name yet.

“Hey yourselves!” Eddie shot back,” This cutie saved my life and just gave me the greatest compliment I’ve ever received!”

“But that’s- That’s not-” Dustin sputtered before turning to one of the other older boys in the room,” STEVE!”

“What do you want me to do about it? I can’t magically make you his favorite again-“

To which Mike took offense,“ Hey!”

“Please, Mike, do you really think you were Eddie’s favorite?” Dustin asked him with that same tone Steve kept saying he’d do something about, yet hasn't,” It was obviously me. And it’s obviously going to be me again, once I retake my throne from this thief!”

El scrunched her eyebrows together at him,“ I did not steal it.”

“Yes, you did! With magic powers and sweet words!”

Eddie chimed in,“ Don’t forget the cute face.”

“And your cute face!” he added with an accusatory finger, though it just made El laugh again.

Lucas shrugged and sided,“ I’m on El’s team. You can’t not like her. I tried. Didn’t get very far.”

She gave him a courteous nod,” Thank you.”

However, Mike seethed “Traitor!” in the other boy's direction.

“So, El’s the name of the darling I owe my life to?” Eddie asked her, ignoring the boy’s play fighting.

“Yes. Short for Eleven.” She answered.

“Eleven?”

“There’s a lot we didn’t have time to explain fully the first time around,” Steve told him.

“I wasn’t even here when Eddie’s life went to shit! I think that means I get bonus points.” Mike got louder as he tried to argue.

Lucas was the one to disagree,“ That doesn’t make any sense. None of us screwed him over.”

“If anything, you weren’t even here to try and help him out of it. I think that means we deserve bonus points.” Dustin added.

“They are so immature.” Erica rolled her eyes and said to Steve.

“I know they are.” he agreed,” At least you behave when you aren’t too busy blackmailing us-”

“Eddie! You’re really awake!” Robin rushed in, finally arriving with the rest of them.

“Last one in, Robin?” Eddie asked.

“I was…” She spared a glance at Steve, who was already looking at her pretty intently, before she put her focus back on the one in the bed,” looking into something. For you!”

Erica leaned in closer to Steve and whispered while Robin rambled about her meeting with Mr. Thompson,“ It is not blackmailing when I am just insisting on the return of the goods and services that were pledged to me-”

“It’s a little blackmail-y, or like, at least blackmail-adjacent the way you do it,” Steve whispered back.

“And yet, I didn’t even need to apply the pressure for five minutes before you broke. Seems like you just knew I was right.”

Steve deadpanned at her,“ Okay, I take it back. You don’t behave. No one in The Party behaves.”

“Oh, that’s the truth.” Robin hastily agreed when she caught the back half of what he said.

“Oh, so this is The Party?” Eddie asked with a motion to the room.

Mike pipped up,“ Yeah. We’re The Party.”

Nancy gave a light shove to his head,“ It’s what they’ve been calling themselves since the day Dustin moved into town. And once we all got mixed up in everything together, we all kind of adopted it.”

"We're still the originals, though," Mike mentioned with a motion between the four boys.

“So that’s what the little angel meant. Not celebrating.” Eddie figured, finally connecting the dots. But should he really have expected the person he confused with God to be using fantasy terms that way? Can’t blame the guy for assuming she’d meant it by the normie definition.

“No, she was not referring to an actual party.” Will joked beside her.

“Good, because I was going to be pissed if you were all just having fun while I was dying.” He huffed.

Steve stepped forward,“ You weren’t dying-”

“Oh no, he absolutely was.” Robin interrupted him,” You heard El, she had to keep him together enough to even make it to the hospital-”

“What?”

And there was Wayne at the door, along with the other parents all holding to-go bags of food for everyone. Thus started the third - and hopefully last - explanation of what was actually going on. They couldn’t really pretend like everything was normal since Eddie had already told Wayne most of what happened to him. So they just explained it further. Went over the bits that Eddie didn’t know anything about or didn’t understand fully. They had the discussion over burgers and fries, and vending machine sodas and candies. Which made all the information go down a little bit easier.

Eddie learned why a child would be named Eleven.

Wayne learned that his boy’s innocence rests on the integrity of a mountain of lies.

Which was really scary to think about.

So they tried not to.

They all started getting to know one another a little better, seeing as how they’d be putting together more plans to fight off the end of the world. Wayne and Hopper noticed a few similar mannerisms between them. Eddie was more properly introduced to El and Will. And Jonathan and Argyle. And Joyce. Those were all the new faces he was getting a real conversation with. According to everyone, there was some guy who didn’t feel like coming in, two more on the way, and the other parents had headed off back to their homes until visiting hours were over. They didn't want to overwhelm Eddie and thought the kids should get to spend some time with him. Which was pretty sweet, considering he was a wanted man who had been on the run just a few days before.

It was about then that they were suddenly interrupted by a distressed woman in a pantsuit and sunglasses at their door.

But before she even got a word in, Nancy was standing up from her seat and very sharply telling her,” Out.”

The woman peeled off her sunglasses and responded through a clenched jaw,” I see you found our missing persons… and then some.”

She added that last bit while eyeing Jim.

“Get out.” Nancy insisted.

“Ms. Wheeler-”

“I said ‘Get out’. So get out of this room.”

“Nancy…?” Joyce asked, concerned. Nancy had never revisited her grudge against this particular government agent any of the times they ran over things.

The woman pushed,“ We have to talk about what happened.”

“I’m not saying a goddamn word to you people. Since we can’t trust you not to make it worse.”

Then it was Hopper trying to calm her down,“ Kid-”

“They handed her back to him.” Nancy said firmly, making strides around Eddie’s bed to put herself between the woman and the rest of the room, tucking El right behind her,” So no. They don’t get to get close to her again.”

“However you feel about things, we still need to get on the same page if we have any hope of cleaning things up around here.”

“It’s not happening. Not here, not today, and not anywhere near El. I don’t care what you say, it’s not.”

The woman seemed exacerbated,“ We have to-”

Finally, Nancy let out the yell she had been fighting back all day,“ Get out!”

Which was a sight. For everyone. To see her lose her cool like that.

It was different than the way she fought monsters.

It was… something else.

“Ms. Wheeler-”

“Tomorrow then? We all get together and discuss things tomorrow?” Joyce offered the compromise, still making up her mind on how exactly she felt about the situation but sure about wanting to get it taken care of.

Hopper answered for their guest in his own gruff voice,“ We’ll talk tomorrow.”

After a moment of silence, the agent decided to take the deal on the table,“ I’ll leave my card. There’s a number on it. Call and make plans for the meeting, or I’ll show up unannounced again. With backup.”

Nancy was gearing up to walk closer when Steve grabbed her shoulder,“ Get out-”

“I’m leaving. Make sure you call.” She said, pressing the slip on top of the light fixture by the door.

And then she was gone.

“You know… I was going to give this welcoming committee a five-star review in the paper until she showed up. Really soured the mood, you know?” Eddie joked, trying to relieve some tension.

Nancy huffed and returned to her seat,” Sorry. The news must’ve aired footage of the police arriving for questioning and were probably still running the cameras when everyone showed up, so…”

“We weren’t even thinking about that when we got here…” Jonathan muttered beside her.

“It’s okay. Still a pretty rockin’ day from my end. Being not dead and all.”

“That’s it, man. We just gotta focus on the positives.” Argyle smiled back at him.

“What’s the plan for the meeting?” Robin asked nervously.

“El’s not coming.” Nancy set the condition sternly.

“Agreed.” Hop nodded and crossed his arms.

“But-” the girl tried to argue.

“No. We have to assume she won’t be alone, and while Sam might’ve been on your side, we don’t know what they’re doing now on their own. We need to know how everything stands. If there are people who aren’t our allies, we aren’t giving them an opportunity to get ahold of you again.”

“We can’t just leave her alone, Hop,” Joyce noted.

“So, you don’t.” Wayne thought,” You bring her here on the way to the meeting. There are all the cameras at the entrance, an officer will be posted by the room, and this hospital is still full of people. If someone tried to break her out of her against her will, they wouldn’t get very far without drawing a lot of attention.”

Jim nodded some more,” Yes. Yes, that’s a good idea. El can stay here until we finish.”

“More time to hang out with my guardian angel? Sounds good to me.” Eddie agreed with a smile, hoping El wouldn’t be nervous about the idea.

“So then, tomorrow morning. Most of the rest of us. Some place public. Get this dealt with so we can figure out the next move.” Jim concluded.

And no one else said anything, but they all agreed. That was the plan.

There wasn’t much more to say the evening, so when four o’clock arrived and a nurse was kicking everyone besides Wayne out and introducing Officer Nichols, they all went their separate ways. Most of the kids' parents were pulled up by the hospital entrance for pickup. Except for Robin who Steve whisked away so they could spend a few hours doing some much-needed checking in. Robin just had her first date after all, so there was so much to talk about before he needed to drop her off at home.

She told him everything. All about the phone call and Vickie's new earrings. About all the ways Vickie made her laugh and how she could swear she’d noticed Vickie’s eyes lingering on her when she would get lost in her rambles. About the way that Vickie sat right next to her while they talked to Mr. Thompson on his front porch. About the way that Vickie leaned against her and touched her shoulder and seemed to be so close sometimes that Robin swore her head was spinning.

She talked about it all with Steve.

Because telling her best friend about her amazing day made it so much more real.

And that was the moment Steve decided Robin wasn’t coming with them to the meeting. He had already been pretty sure about it but watching her bursting with excitement about her first real chance at loving a girl made him certain.

There was probably going to be nothing major that happened. It would be stupid of the Feds to try and take out something like a dozen people in a small town where everyone knows each other. But he wasn’t going to risk it. Just couldn’t imagine risking Robin disappearing before she got to kiss Vickie for the first time and feel loved in that sweet special way that romance can hold.

With everything Steve knew about love and everything he didn’t, he knew that Robin deserved to have her chance to find out about it.

#I AM SO SORRY LOVELIES!!! #I KEEP FORGETTING TO UPDATE TUMBLR WITH THESE CHAPTERS!!! #I'm copying over 3 chapters that are already on AO3 #And there are going to be another 2 coming out in the next few days! #Sorry again about the delay. I just completely forgot Tumblr existed for a minute because I've been focused on Twitter #Ronance Drama? #Oops. I didn't originally plan to give them much to 'overcome' #But I decided we'd make their story a little bit more turbulent for fun :) #And I hope y'all liked the Eddie apology to Lucas - I hope it didn't feel occ #But I really needed Eddie to say he was sorry for what he did bc I'm mad at him about it #and I got to start the saga of 'Wayne being the best uncle ever' bc I've been wanting to write my 'they talk about dnd together' bit so bad #And the beginnings of the Eddie&Nancy bestfriendism agenda I'm going to push #I adore them and they'll get a lot of attention and development together! #I'm also incredibly exciting about more El and Eddie interactions - El and Nancy bonds - and so many others #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #Steddie #Steveddie #Steve x Eddie #Nancy Wheeler #Robin Buckney #Ronance #Robin x Nancy #The Fruity Four #Stranger Things #Stranger Things 4 #Stranger Things 4 spoilers #Stranger Things 4 volume 2 spoilers

[fuckyeahfightlock]

20 questions for fic writers 2023

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

207

2. What’s your total A03 word count?

1.2 million (!!!)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

BBC Sherlock (Sherlock TV, ACD), Doctor Who/Torchwood, Black Sails/Treasure Island, Maurice (film/novel), Raffles/Raffles TV, Don't Trust the B---- in Apartment 23, Dexter, The Sandman (comics), Versailles, The Untamed, MST3K

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

The Imposter Art and Nature Boyfriend Material Eight and Fifty Nights Wind and Winter

No surprise three of those are from the same series (my most popular one). I kind of feel like The Imposter is my fandom legacy, which is fine by me; I'm proud of it.

(they're all beauties, in my eyes)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I started out responding to every one. I barely do anymore, only because when I was writing long, chaptered fics, it became overwhelming. Lately I get many fewer, so I do respond to some. I tend to reply to comments on non-Sherlock fics more now, because the fandoms are smaller and I like to gas us up a little!

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Am and Was, the final story in my fight!lock series Bleed So Pretty, ends with a double suicide.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably All Said and Done, the happy ending for the 1920s stately home series, Dawn Before the Rest of the World. But a lot of my fics have happy endings, even most of the angsty ones.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I have! Very early on someone got very angry that AUs even exist, and took it out on one of my stories (maybe it was the first AU she ever read???); she mostly complained that I was writing Them out of character, which is probably true to some extent, but everyone has their own tolerance levels for that kind of stuff, so, whatever. Someone got very angry that one of my missing-scene fics based on a novel included verbatim text at the beginning and end (context being necessary to the bit I wrote in the middle), even though I made that VERY CLEAR in the beginning notes; she was not satisfied and felt I was a plagiarist, which to me is not a concept that even applies to transformative works, so again, whatever.

I don't mind any comment except ones that boil down to "I don't like this," because there's nothing I can do about that. I can fix spellings and punctuation, sew up plot holes, and make other minor adjustments to the technical stuff. But if someone just comments that they don't like the story, I'm helpless.

9. Do you write smut?

Very much so! I have written entire long novels just as set dressing for smut.

10. Do you write crossovers?

Several! I decided as soon as Sherlock came out on BBC that it takes place in the very same universe (London, present day) as Doctor Who/Torchwood (so, aliens exist). So I crossed those over a bunch. Doctor Who/Torchwood also got crossed over with Dexter, and with The Sandman comics. ACD!Holmes crossed over with Raffles, based on a screenplay of a film featured on MST3K. Black Sails is already Treasure Island pastiche, so that counts though I'm not responsible for it.

(this legendary bitch was only a bitch from a legend in Treasure Island)

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I was a victim of netscraping of the AO3 by various pay-to-read schemes, twice. But to my knowledge, no one person has like, copy/pasted my fic and put their name on it as the author.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

A couple in Russian, a couple in Chinese.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Twice. It's not really my jam.

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

Johnlock.

15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

A final story in my Road to Home series, a fix-it fic where Donna gets her memory back (which I began writing in 2013 or 2014). Now that she's got it back in canon, it seems even less likely I'll ever finish it.

(Russell T Davies accepted it maybe a little TOO hard)

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Right now, discipline (mine, not in my BDSM AU characters')

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I've done it, probably not 100% correctly or well, but I try really hard (not just google translate! I consult native speakers!) to get it right. Generally I recommend keeping it to a minimum unless you learn the trick where AO3 lets you hover a cursor over text and you can put the translation in the pop-up. Too few people are multilingual.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

I wrote self-insert Duran Duran bandom fic starting when I was 12, in 1984. My first fic on the AO3 was a Sherlock fic.

(my first husband, John Taylor)

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

Don't make me choose! I can't choose a favourite child. Today I was writing on One-Man Advantage, so that's a fave because of recency bias, but I was also thinking about Stages, so that's a fave because when I think of it my heart aches. The Re/Formation of Billy Bones is a fave because I love the backstory I created for him and I think I wrote it well. At Depth is a tiny hidden gem. I love all the Christmas ones and all the snowed-in ones. I love the kinky ones and the fluffy ones and the ones with OCs. I love some I've forgotten about. I love'm all.

Thanks for tagging me, @onesmallfamily !

#long post #20 questions #writing #fic

[rossellini-tyrell]

Nothing's Gonna Change My World

Ch. 6 - Set Me On A Silver Sun (for i know that i'm free) I

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Word Count: 4,458

Warnings:

HUGE TRIGGER WARNING

This chapter contains references to the events of Chapter 1, multiple fairly graphic descriptions of periods (yes, those periods) and some non-sexual nudity + bathing and washing on the reader's part. THERE IS NO SMUT OR ANYTHING EVEN CLOSE. I put reader through a lot of things this chapter, but it's all okay, because Pav makes everything better - where there's hurt here, there's always comfort. However, if these are triggering topics for you, be warned! Pairing: Pavitr x F!Reader also found on AO3 and Wattpad.

"Any updates on that guy Spider-Man beat up? That guy at the night club?" a man asks. Pavitr hides out of sight, listening in on the discussion taking place in the prosecutor's office. "He accepted the plea deal. Turns out the building next door had a surveillance camera that caught the entire thing, an anonymous tip sent in the footage. There was no arguing out of that," the prosecutor explained. Pavitr had sent in that tape himself, having gone back to scout around the scene and lucked into that camera. A little bit of sweet-talking was all that was needed to ply the camera's owner into surreptitiously letting him take a peek at the feed from the night before. They were more than happy to let him have a copy of his own with just a few honeyed words. "Ah, well I guess he won't be wasting our time then, not to mention putting that poor girl through a trial," the man muses. The prosecutor shuffles her papers on her desk, clearly getting ready to leave for the day. "The sentencing hearing was set for a month out. I had Victim's Services call her yesterday to let her know. At least this should give her some relief," she replies. Pavitr slips into the night, not bothering with the rest of the conversation. It's already so late, you're probably asleep by now and he's got a hungry kitten at home to feed that's growing bigger by the day. He resolves to bring it up with you in the morning, over a nice breakfast while curled up on the couch. For now, he slips back inside his unit, strips the suit off and slides on a well-loved tee with the Kochi Tuskers logo on the front, fading away after many washes and ill-advised overuse of fabric softener. Sheru mewls a greeting from where he's perched on the foot of Pavitr's bed. "Hey there, buddy, didja miss me?" he chatters to the kitten, reaching over to give him a scritch behind the ears that is rewarded by an arch into the touch, just the way he likes it. His body condition is filling out nicely, no longer the emaciated little wisp he used to be.

Sheru purrs a little mrrow, contented.

"I missed you too, bitty fidget," he says, lifting the kitten up to kiss on his adorable pink nose. "You're so cute I could eat you up." The golden kitten squirms in Pavitr's hold. "Speaking of eating, lets get your dinner out, I've made you wait long enough for me," he says, and he carries Sheru into the kitchen to set out his well-overdue food.

---- He feels it before he hears it. drip, drip, drip it goes, from his ceiling into his dreams. The tendrils of hurts hurts hurts wind around his wrists where the web should be. The sky above him is a sickly purple, shattering above him into endless splinters when— luh-luh-LEAVE ME ALONE I D-D-DON'T WANT TO The tendrils pull and he follows, shooting up stock still in his bed. Pavitr's breathing comes in heavy, ponderous breaths, his sense is screaming at him and he's overcome by— pavitr spiderman help me please dont make me please help help help pav please dont let him Sheru urgently chirps at him from where he's tucked against his knee, as if to say go, help her.

His heart hurts hurts hurts because you're in pain and now he's in pain and he wants to do nothing more than help, but he remembers that this time, he can. He ignores the drip, drip, and grabs the bangles and says to hell with the rest of it, he lets your screaming take him up, up, up, surrenders to the pull you have on him to navigate him silently through your bedroom window, the one you've started to leave unlocked for him. Like an arc of lightning, he's there at your bedside, to where he finds you thrashing in your tangle of bedsheets. Pavitr's only seen you after, but never during like this, there's just so much hurt and pain and he hurts— pav i love you puh-puh-please dont leave

"Oh, ahava, I have you now, I'm here" he breathes emphatically, gathers you up into his tight hold while he sits on the edge of your bed. He vigorously rubs your back, plants his lips firmly to the crown of your head over and over to bring you gently, quickly into the waking world with him. Your flailing ceases, your cries fizzling out into unintelligible blubbering, eyes flickering open to a blurry scene.

"Hey there, dove. Hey. Hey, it's okay, you're safe, you were having a nightmare, okay? It's all over. You're okay, you're okay, you're safe in your bed with me," Pavitr soothes into your ear. He senses you shifting in his hold, as if you wanted to press yourself impossibly closer, to melt into him. Your crying gets louder, now fully awake and completely frightened. "Hey, come here, come here, hold me, it's okay, I'm right here, sweet girl," he tenderly instructs, making room for you to wrap your arms around him fully, let him bracket your hips between his knees. "It's okay, you're safe. C'mere, I have you, Pavu's here," he pours comfort from his lips, like warm milk with honey. You grab on and hold, scramble for purchase on his t-shirt as if the tendrils of hurts hurts hurts would pull you down into the next world if you didn't. High, breathy sobs are muffled by the fabric on his shoulder, the clean laundry soap smell and his own scent beneath it are grounding. Pavitr drags out slow, firm circles against your back, the fabric of your pajama top damp with sweat. "It's okay, it's okay, my precious girl, Pavu's gotcha. C'mere, my darling, it's okay, shhhh, it's alright, darling, I'm right here, right here," he cooes to you, trying to calm your heaving respiration with the pressure of his hand against your back. "Breathe, darling, breathe, it's okay, oh my sweet baby girl, shhhh..." More squishy kisses are dotted along your sweaty hairline. You let your head loll to one side, let it rest in the hollow of his throat. You start to settle in his embrace, your head feels so heavy. "That's my sonu, that's my darling girl, there's a love, shhhh..." he praises, the words tender and sweet in your ear. Pavitr trails his kisses to the skin of your forehead, becoming alarmed at the heat he feels against his lips. "You have a fever, sweet girl," he murmurs, the hand on your back coming up now to brush your hair back. "He-head h-hurts," you stammer. Pavitr clicks his tongue, presses a long kiss to your temple.

"Oh, my poor ahava, looks like you've picked up a cold," he tuts.  "No wonder that nightmare was so—" and that's when he sees it. He catches a glimpse of the sheets bunched around your legs. In the low light of the room, he makes out a dark splotch, extending to the insides of your thighs where your pajama bottoms cover them. His heart breaks, crumbles in his chest, because all of this could not have come at a worse time for you. "Pav, what are you—ohmygod, nonononono," you whine, embarrassment taking hold of you quickly. Everything burns, your breath is coming quick and stuttered, fresh tears pool along your waterline. You try, and fail to push yourself out of Pavitr's hold, but he doesn't allow it for a second. "Hey, hey, (You), hey. Hey," Pavitr croons in your ear, a stern edge to his voice. "Don't look at that, look at me," he orders, one hand moving to guide your face towards his. "B-but there's—you saw," you protest.

"Oh, dove, c'mere," he commands in the softest of voices. Your boyfriend tugs you even closer, melding you against his chest. He peppers kisses upon your knitted, sweaty brow. The affection drowns out the utter disgust you feel right now with yourself. "Don't cry, darling, everything's okay. I'm not going anywhere," he assures, gives your back a steady rub for good measure while resting his chin atop your head. "Can't, it h-hurts, and I'm so gross, I'm s-sorry—" your voice devolves into a high whine. "Hey, hey, hey, none of that, sweet girl, none of that," he gently, firmly ends your protests. He smudges a kiss against your chapped lips to make sure you get the message. "Let me fix it? Gonna take such good care of you, yeah?" "Y-yeah," you acquiesce, between snuffles into Pavitr's shirt. "Okay, sonu, you stay right here, I'm just gonna grab a couple things and I will make it all better, okay?" he says, waits for your nod of assent. He kisses your nose when you do, leaps from the bed to rummage around in what he knows is your underwear drawer. He nabs a few of your darker pairs, and a couple sports bras too, then spots a couple of spare laundry bags to stuff them in. He then gets to work stripping the bed, wrestles the ruined flat sheet into the other bag. Thankfully, no sign of damage to the mattress, a small comfort. Once he has everything, he returns to your shivering, whimpering form. "Okay, okay, I'm here now, Pav's here," he reassures, brushing his nose against yours. "Pav is going to take care of you now, you just relax and let me do all the work, yeah?" "Yeah," you breathe, all cried out. "There's my girl," he purrs, it's so fond and milky-sweet you're not sure you deserve it right now, nor the way he cups your flushed, fever-warm cheek. Pavitr wraps your legs up in the flat sheet tangled around you, the discolored areas covered up. He slings the laundry bags over one shoulder and lifts you into a bridal carry like it's nothing. He hops out onto the fire escape, casts a web out to slowly lower you both down to his unit. "Almost there, dove, just need you to put your arms around my neck and I'll get you sorted, I promise," he coos. You comply, using the little strength you have left to do so. Your boyfriend carefully rappels you both until you reach his fire escape, and he bundles you into his apartment, cheers a we're home, my darling into your ear. From there, he carries you straight to his bathroom. It's much like yours, expect his unit comes equipped with a bathtub, a feature yours lacks. Pavitr turns on as few lights as necessary and sets you down on the toilet lid. He efficiently roots through his medicine cabinet, finds the cold medicine and painkillers and sorts them, with a glass of water.

"For the pain, ahava," he explains. He passes caplets for you to take, you choke them down, and he helps you sip the water to chase it down, you sputter on it anyway as a cough wracks your body. "My brave girl," he praises, rewarding you with a back rub for your efforts. Your vision is hazy from the remnants of the nightmare, but you meet his eyes through the fog. Sleep is weighing heavy on you and you start to go adrift with it. "Tired..." you bubble out, your chest crispy, frothy on the inhale. "I bet you are, sweet girl, you can sleep so soon," he promises, stopping to wipe some sweat-matted hair from your forehead. "Gonna run you a nice bath, put you in some new clothes, and I'll tuck you into bed with me, doesn't that sound nice?" "S'nice..." you slur, swaying in your seat. "Oh no, not that!" Pavitr chides, a gentle laugh rumbling in his throat. He reaches out to right you, guiding you into sitting up by the shoulders. "You gotta stay with me a minute, okay? Just a little longer for me?" "Uh-huh," you agree. He grins and pecks you on your flushed cheek, his lips pleasantly cool on your skin. You hear him start the water and fiddle with something under the sink, out of your view. He tosses something into the tub, you think you could be imagining things, but you pick up on a slight floral aroma, it's hard to tell with a nose that feels stuffed with cotton wool. He sets out and opens a box on the counter, you recognize it as the box of pads he'd brought home, all that time ago.

"Okay, darling, I'm gonna take care of this—" he says, untangles the sheet from where it's wound about your legs. "—And I'll bring you some towels and clean clothes. Leave your clothes by the door when you get in the bath, I'll knock and swap them out once you've gotten in the tub, alright?" "O'tay," you murmur, eyelids fluttering. Pavitr's heart melts into a puddle of goo right there, he boops your nose with one pointed finger because oh you're precious like this, even under the circumstances. "So cute, sonu," he gushes. "You have fun in the bath, come find me when you're done," he directs. With a final pet of your head, he leaves you to it, taking the sheet with him. He assesses the damage once he gets to the washer, and honestly, he's seen worse. Years of vigilantism have taught him how to get blood and god knows what else out of his suit, whether it was his or theirs. No matter, he runs through his usual routine and sets up a cold water wash, then raids his linen closet for the mahogany-toned bath towels Miles had given him as a housewarming present when he first moved here. Pavitr stops by his bedroom last, piles on a cozy pair of track pants, some fuzzy socks, and one of his favorite old tee shirts, the one you seem to love rubbing your face on whenever he wears it. He then raps on the bathroom door, knocks one, two, three times. There's no reply. "(You)? Dove?" he calls out. Still radio silence. The thrum of the tub filling drones on behind it. He taps his knuckle on the door thrice more. "(You), I have clothes and towels for you, are you okay with me opening the door?" he presses his ear against the door, and there's nothing. Pavitr chokes down the lump of worry in his throat and steels himself to go in anyway. "(You), I'm gonna come in, okay?" he announces. He backs himself into the room in case you're not decent, and, to his surprise, finds you exactly where he'd left you. You're perched on the toilet seat, still in your clothes and slouching off to one side. The tub is just about filled, he deftly stops the tap before setting the linens down and examining your state. You're dazed, eyes unfocused, bleary, as if in a trance. "You weren't kidding when you said you were tired, huh," remarks Pavitr, cupping your chin in both hands. You don't reply beyond arching into the touch, sleepy nonsense spilling from your lips, and Pavitr can't resist cooing at it. He sighs heavily, realizing what he's going to have to do now—leaving you like this isn't an option, and he can't fairly put you in bed in your condition. He'd imagined this scene playing out so differently, if you'd ever wanted for that, and he hates the idea of taking that experience from you, for whom a positive "first" is few.

"Hey sweet girl, we gotta get you out of these so you can get cleaned up and sleep. Are you okay with me helping you if I promise to cover you up?" he asks, as if he were explaining to a small child.

"'M too tired. You do it," you mutter. Your eyelids look like they weigh ten tons when you peep at him through the small amount you can pry them open for.

"Alright then, lift your arms for me, darling," Pavitr instructs. You comply (barely) and he lifts your top from the hem. He pauses at your bust line to drape you from collarbone to knee in the biggest and fluffiest of the towels, then pulls you flush against him to pull the top most of the way up from the back, before getting the towel all the way around under the shoulders. Satisfied that you're covered, he frees your arms from the top, and takes a deep breath before kneeling, hands brushing the crests of your hips.

"Can I take these off?" Pavitr asks. He waits patiently for your nod of assent, and then works everything else over your hips and down your legs in one go, shuffles it all off to the side before you have the chance to worry about what became of them.

"All finished! I'm gonna help you get in the tub now," he says, and loops an arm under your shoulders to guide you onto your feet, the room swims as you do, the sinus congestion making itself known with the dull throb against your cheekbones. Your boyfriend holds you up as you step into the tub of deep indigo water, and then discards the towel to pull you close enough to lower you into the tub without either you falling, or him seeing something he shouldn't. For a second, Pavitr thinks he catches a flash of your exposed chest in the low light of the room, but finds himself unable to care.

"The w-water, its...it smells good," you croak, voice crackling in your vocal cords like a grocery store receipt crushes in your fist. You can feel the heat starting to weave gentle fingers through the knot laying heavy in your stomach, unwinding the tension and clearing up the fog of congestion in your head.

"That'd be the epsom salt cube. I was gonna surprise you with it next week, but I figured you could do with a little pampering right now," explains Pavitr. He perches himself on the rim of the tub, and pours into one hand a generous amount of the very expensive shampoo he uses, you know it immediately by the sharp apple-citrus notes that hang about him whenever you go for a kiss on his cheek.

"Hey, Pav, are you—oh, fuh-fuck," you bite out as your boyfriend starts to work the shampoo into your hair, confident fingers and thumbs massaging into your scalp. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, you sink deeper into the tub, neck immediately relaxing into his hold as he gently tugs at the roots of your hair.

"Shhhh, ahava, let me spoil you," he shushes you. Your eyes flutter open to catch his expression, the way the tip of his tongue peeks out between his lips as he focuses on applying just the right amount of pressure with each pass, his nails scratching your scalp just so. It's amazing to you how you can be caked in all manner of crud, and this gorgeous man could not be more adamant about literally carrying you home with him, doing domestic things like your laundry, buying you pads, washing your hair for you, and the look on his face is so in love it makes your poor tired heart want to melt away, like the salt in the bath.

"That's your good shampoo though," you protest. Pavitr snorts, it's hard to take you seriously now with how you're putty in his hands, utterly surrendered to the almost medicinal way he's kneading his fingertips into the skin of your scalp.

"I was hoping you'd notice, sonu," he replies, the gentle grin still crossing his face. The pads of his thumbs find purchase at the base of your skull, drawing firm circles to release the tension he finds there, you exhale a curse as he does so.

Your brief surge of alertness begins to wash away with the shampoo suds. The rhythm of Pavtir's fingers stroking through your hair is calming, sleep laps at you in waves and he easily supports your weight in his hands. Your aches and cramps bleed out of your pores, drawn out by the epsom salt in the bath, but also by the warmth of his hands. Your eyes fall shut once again, sinking down, down to the bottom of the tub, to the ocean, weighed down by the lead balloon of fatigue. You hear the rush of water when he lowers your head into the tub just enough to cover your hairline, the soft thump of your heart in your ribcage amplified by the liquid. It should be frightening, but it's not, you feel safe with the way he cradles your head in his hands, knowing he'd never let you drown. He's never let you drown.

Pavitr props your head on a rolled up towel at the end of the tub. You feel him take one of your hands, and then a soft, wet cloth tracing gentle circles down the length of your arm.

"Feels good?" you hear him ask. His voice sounds a million miles away through your blocked ears.

"Mmm..." you hum, relaxing into the warm embrace of the water. Pavitr laughs quietly and firmly kisses your palm, laces the cloth between your fingers to scrub there for good measure.

You feel him repeat the act on your opposite arm, stopping at the point of your shoulder. The touch is fond, as if to say hush, beloved, it turns your already weary limbs into something not unlike an overcooked noodle, tossed about by a gentle rolling boil. There's a shuffling noise, and then Pavitr's reaching into the tub for one ankle.

"Gonna take such good care of you," he purrs.

The cloth tickles a little as it passes the arch of your foot, the curve of your ankle. Long strokes pass along your calf to your knee, the pressure increasing to slough off any dirt or sweat that might be there. He gets all the way around it, and then halts at the inside of your knee.

"Can I go a little higher?" he asks.

You try your best to open your eyes, barely making him out in the low light of the room.

"You don't have to say yes. I just...wanted to help, if you were okay with it. And I really do mean only a little higher." he explains.

Since the first time Pavitr kissed you in your kitchen, he's not once broken your trust, or asked anything of you he didn't know you'd want to give. Wherever you went, he met you where you were.

"Yeah, you can," you sleepily agree.

You feel him rub your knee with his other hand, before slowly, somewhat firmly, stroking the cloth up the inside of your thigh, the cloth dips below the water line as he goes. The touch is soothing, not teasing, and he loops back down with plenty of room to spare before the juncture of your hip, true to his word. Your body is pliant, easily maneuvered like a fashion doll. Pavitr retraces his path one, two, three times, just enough to clean up the skin beneath his hand, no more. He balances your opposite leg on your knee to treat it the same, rotates your hip just enough to get at everything, keeping the rest of you obscured below the colored surface of the water.

When he's satisfied with his work, he flips the drain switch, and grabs the towel from the floor.

"Let me get this under your shoulders," he cues, two towel-covered hands winding around and under your underarms. "There's a love, stand up for me one last time," he praises.

You follow, pushing yourself up on shaky, boneless legs. Pavitr does most of the work anyway, the towel falls in front of you as you stand to keep you covered. He deftly pivots you back onto the toilet seat, then grabs a second towel to dry off your hair and neck. He gives you a brisk rub, then, in a flash of playfulness, covers up your face with the towel. He quickly reveals your face again, your drowsy expression wringing a giggle out of him, he can't resist kissing the tip of your cute nose.

"Silly…" you mutter, the biggest grin you can muster crosses your face at the idea of Spider-Man of all people playing peek-a-boo with you. His sense of humor in a difficult moment warms your heart.

"You love it," Pavitr jests, blows you a kiss.

He fishes a packet from the box on the sink counter, unwraps it and adheres the contents to the inside of the clean underwear. He knows you're going to give him flak for it later, he doesn't care, he's a fucking adult and you're about to fall asleep sitting up, he just wants to get you out of here as quickly as possible. He kneels at your feet, feeds your legs through the underwear, then the track pants, and guides you through shimmying them up past your hips.

"Bed…" you whine, slumping off to one side. Your face is still colored with the overtone of malaise.

"I know, sweet girl, I'm almost done, don't worry," reassures Pavitr, slipping the fuzzy socks onto your freshly dried feet. He reaches for the shirt, the last step.

"Arms up, pretty girl," he tells you, voice low and soft, like a thick, dreamy fog.

You comply, and he quickly pulls the shirt over your arms and torso, the towel drops off as the skin is covered. Before you can blink, you're bundled up off the ground, face pressed against a warm chest. You can't help but snuggle closer, the chills rippling through your fever-ridden body driving you to seek out the heat.

You're set down onto a cloud of linen, down, and cotton, rich and fluffy, and smells like him. You don't know why you've never been here before. The cloud sinks a little as he climbs up beside and around you, pulls up the comforter over the both of you.

"You did so well, darling girl," he rumbles. Arms pull you back into his chest, wind around you into a cozy cocoon with the tangle of his legs. Here is safe, warm, comfy, and the praise makes your head feel all muzzy.

"Sleep..." you breathe, burrowing closer into Pavitr, craving the closeness.

Pavitr giggles lowly, smears one, two, three kisses to your temple and forehead, still far too hot. The flat of his hand drags back and forth between your scapula, slow and hypnotic.

"Yes, ahava, you can sleep now. I'm gonna take such good care of you," he hums into your skin. "Rest now, my brave girl,"

The soft, steady thump of his heart against your ear is your lullaby, the bounds of his arms and chest your cradle. You take a deep breath, inhaling his scent, letting it fill your tired lungs and soothe your ravaged throat. On the exhale, soft tendrils of sleep sleep sleep wind about you, pull you under, and you willingly follow. There's no pain, no sickness, no heartache, just him.

#fanfiction #across the spiderverse #pavitr my beloved #pavitr prabhakar #pavitr prabhakar x reader #pavitr x reader #pavitr x you #spider-man: across the spider-verse #spiderman astv #spiderman astv imagines #x reader #spiderverse pavitr #atsv pavitr #pavitr #hobie brown x reader #atsv hobie #hobie spiderverse #hobie x reader #spiderverse headcanon #spiderman india #spiderman #spider punk #into the spider verse #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel astv #miles morales x reader

[stargazingellie]

lazarus is risen

chapter one: prologue

hiii :)

i'm writing something on ao3 and wanted to post it on here too, so here's the first installment!! (teehee)

here's a summary:

After deciding to let Abby live, Ellie has returned to Jackson. But given everything she's lost, it no longer feels like home. She's sad, she's confused, and above all else, she is so, so very lonely. So when a group of strangers shows up and offers her a second chance, she might just take them up on that.

Ellie must decide between staying in Jackson – and living with the ghosts of her past – or leaving in search of new meaning. Whatever she decides, her choice will have far-reaching consequences – not just for herself, or for Jackson, but for all of humanity.

Or:

Ellie saves the world, maybe?

(ellie williams x reader, post-tlou2, useless lesbians, slow burn, cross country road trip, lots of references to greek mythology, etc.)

Prologue: A separate introductory section of a literary or musical work.

The clock on the wall read 10:49 p.m. – well outside the bounds of typical working hours, even for the lab’s most dedicated personnel. Fluorescent lights hanging from the ceiling of the large room emitted a low hum and sent rays of unnaturally harsh light spilling over empty  workbenches, abandoned petri dishes, and one single, solitary figure hunched over a microscope.

He adjusted his round, wire-rimmed glasses and fiddled with the magnification lenses. As he did so, he took meticulous notes in a well-worn binder, from whose edges years’ worth of handwritten, detailed data threatened to spill. Lost in his observation, a sudden burst of static from his walkie-talkie jolted him back to reality.

“This is Red Team 1 to Dr. Reynolds. Dr. Reynolds, come in.”

Frantically, the man finished what he was writing, set down his pencil, and responded, “Go for Reynolds.”

“Sir, there was an incident in Quadrant 3. Daniels is compromised. We’re bringing him in now. E.T.A. 7 minutes, over.”

The man quickly began packing up the binder, taking special care to keep all of the papers neat and in order. “Copy that. Bring him to the same operating room as last time, over.”

“Copy that. Over and out.”

The man packed his belongings into a leather satchel and hurried out of the quiet laboratory. Rushing up stairs and around corners, he arrived at the operating room and began setting up the necessary equipment as he struggled to catch his breath. This was so much easier when I was young, he thought to himself. Just as he positioned the final syringes, two men supporting a third between them burst through the heavy double doors with a loud bang.

Familiar with the routine, the pair lay the patient on the table as each secured a wrist and ankle cuff. The patient, whose metal nameplate read Daniels, did not resist.

Dr. Reynolds hastily pulled on gloves as he stepped beside the table to speak with the patient.

“I’m sorry this happened to you, Daniels. You’ve been of great service to our cause. I just want to make sure – you still want to go through with this? We can just end it now if you’ve changed your mind.”

Daniels gazed back at the doctor, beads of sweat already beginning to form on his pale forehead. “Yes,” he nodded. “I still want to. I’ve only ever wanted to help, in any way I can. I hope it works for you this time, and if not, well, maybe you’ll still get some useful data out of it.” He gave a weak smile and blinked back tears, as if trying to convince himself of his own statement.

Dr. Reynolds placed a gentle hand on the man’s shoulder. “I hope so too. I really do.”

Turning away, the doctor picked up the first of several syringes he had placed in two neat, even rows on the operating tray. One row was full of a milky liquid, while the other row of syringes lay completely empty. Addressing the two burly men who had brought Daniels in, Dr. Reynolds asked, “Where?”

“Stomach, sir,” one replied.

The doctor turned back to Daniels and lifted the hem of his blood-soaked shirt, revealing a ring of teeth marks on his lower abdomen. He inserted the needle into the center of the bite and injected the contents of the first syringe. Looking at his watch, he waited thirty seconds, then used an empty syringe to take a blood sample from the side of Daniels’ neck. Three more minutes of waiting to allow for further incubation. Inject at the site of infection. Another thirty seconds. Take a sample. He repeated the sequence until all syringes had been injected or contained a cerebral blood sample, labeled with small, neat handwriting.

Addressing Daniels directly, Dr Reynolds said, “Okay, that’s the last of them. I know you’ve seen this process happen to others before, but I’ll remind you of what to expect. It’s just a waiting game now, and if you start to show symptoms, it should be within the next few hours. If the treatment works – and I do hope it does – you should remain in control of your body. If not, well, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” He gave Daniels a comforting smile, a final squeeze on the shoulder, and gathered up the blood samples. “Keep me updated with any changes,” he said to the guards, and hurried back down to the lab.

Once he reached the lab, Dr. Reynolds’ practiced hands created slides of the infected blood in a matter of seconds. He pulled out his binder of notes and began observing the samples under the microscope.

“Multicellular filamentous fungi present in all samples,” he muttered to himself as he excitedly recorded his observations. “But antifungal concoction seems to have made a small yet noticeable effect on subsequent samples.”

He continued to record his data until, about half an hour later, his walkie-talkie sprang to life again.

“Red Team 1 to Reynolds. Reynolds come in.”

Fearing (or rather, knowing) the worst, the doctor picked up the radio. “Go for Reynolds.”

“Daniels has progressed. You should come back up, over.”

Dr. Reynolds sat back in his chair and let out a defeated sigh. He wrote in his notes: Blood samples seem to indicate initial success, but subject still presents as symptomatic.

Back in the operating room, he didn’t need a microscope to know the treatment wasn’t strong enough. Daniels was rapidly declining; his entire body was covered in a sheen of sweat and, despite the strong cuffs, his right hand was twitching erratically. 

The doctor crossed the room to the operating table and gazed sadly down at his patient. 

“Hey Doc.” Daniels smiled weakly as his eye twitched. “Not in the cards for me, huh?”

Dr. Reynolds cleared his throat. “Well, as a positive, it looks like the treatment had some initial progress at the cellular level, but at the organismal level… we’re not quite there yet. I can give you a sedative to make this part more comfortable. Would you like that?”

Daniels stoically shook his head. “No, save it for someone who can put it to better use.”

The doctor gave a soft, sad, chuckle. “Always the valiant one, Daniels. Good man.” Turning to the two remaining members of Red Team 1, Dr. Reynolds said, “Please escort him to the Waiting Rooms.” The men gave a quick nod and wheeled the table back through the heavy double doors. Dr. Reynolds watched as they disappeared around a corner. Briefly losing himself in thought, his ponderings were once again interrupted by a call on his radio.

“Base to Dr. Reynolds. Dr. Reynolds come in.”

The doctor furrowed his brow. Base? They never call this late. Their usual administrative updates were never urgent enough to warrant a late-night page.

In his confusion, he managed to get out, “Uh, yes, go for Reynolds.”

“Doctor, report to headquarters ASAP. There’s someone here who needs to speak with you. It’s…  something you’ll want to hear, over.”

Taken aback by the strangeness of the request, the doctor simply replied, “Copy that, I’ll be there in ten, over.”

When he arrived at headquarters, he was quickly ushered into a small conference room. His colleagues sat on one side of the long wooden table, facing four armed guards. The researchers were all in various states of disarray, suggesting they had not been expecting this meeting either. Dr. Reynolds’ attention fell on the one person in the room he did not recognize; on the other side of the table sat a dirty, tired-looking woman whose cuffed hands lay flat on the table in front of her. 

Dr. Reynolds took the empty seat opposite the stranger and asked, “What’s this all about?”

To his left sat Dr. Martha Simmons, one of the organization’s lead mycelium specialists with whom he regularly collaborated. “She showed up at the wall. Insisted she speak with all of us. Wouldn’t talk until you got here.”

One of the guards spoke up. “We found this on her.” He tossed a knife bearing a clearly recognizable Firefly insignia on the table. “Usually we wouldn’t bring one of her kind straight to HQ, but she insisted she had information critical to your research. Seemed pretty adamant about it.”

Dr. Reynolds thought for a moment, then, glancing briefly at his colleagues, addressed the stranger. “Well, I’m sure we’re all interested as to what information you might have. Please, go ahead.” He sat back in his chair and gestured for the woman to speak.

A string of words fell out of her as if they’d been rehearsed many times before. “My name is Arielle. I’m from the Boston QZ. I’m part of the Fireflies – well, was – I know you guys don’t take kindly to us. But most of us are gone now. FEDRA and other groups and all that. I left the QZ when it started to get bad – well, it was always bad, but, you know, bad bad.” 

She realized she was rambling and cleared her throat. “Anyway… I headed south, hoping to find somewhere better. Tall order, I know. But the farther I went, the more I heard about some researchers still trying to fight this thing. Like, real scientists – not just wannabe, half-trained doctors like we had. Only these scientists hadn’t been having much success. People are saying you’ve been trying to come up with some kind of treatment from infected subjects or something.” 

She held her hands up as if to say, No judgment. “I mean, I don’t know the first thing about mushrooms, so I’m sure you’re doing everything you can. But I figured, if a treatment isn’t working when it’s made from people where the fungus thing, like, completely takes over, then… what if it was made from someone where that didn’t happen?”

She looked expectantly at the scientists in front of her, as if she thought some collective moment of realization would ensue.

“Ma’am,” Dr. Reynolds started. “What you’re suggesting… It's a nice thought, but we as humans have never dealt with this particular mutation of this particular kind of microbe before. There’s no reason to believe that someone would be… or even could be…” Dr. Reynolds trailed off and threw his hands up in defeat, unsure of how to best let this woman know she was living in a land of delusion.

“No, no, listen to me,” she insisted. “I’m not – I’m not crazy. Listen, I have every reason to believe it. Seeing is believing, right? Well, I’ve seen it. With my own eyes. A couple years ago, there was this girl. She was bitten, but nothing happened. It just scabbed over. I’m telling you, I didn’t believe it at first either. But it’s real. She’s real.”

Dr. Reynolds sat forward with interest. Dr. Simmons shook her head in disbelief. “Ma’am, if that’s true, then you’re suggesting… what, exactly?”Arielle, visibly frustrated with the lack of immediate understanding, pressed her palms together in front of her chest and took a deep breath to collect herself. “I am… suggesting that this girl is immune. And I am telling you that I know where to look for her.”

#the last of us part 2 #tlou2 #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #lazarus is risen // ellie williams #tumblr i missed u #why am i nervous #lemme know what u think i love talking 2 people!!! <333 #teehee

[factorialsotherfandoms]

hey!! o/ just finished binge reading your xcom-qsmp au on ao3 today and just wanted to say that i loved it!! i'd already read parts of it, but i just got to the rest and enjoyed every word of it. one of my favorite parts was the Dream chapter of Remind Me How It Feels To Hear Your Voice. watching mike slowly put the pieces together in the back-to-back dreams, figuring out what's going on, what pac is doing for mike, what he's doing to himself. (auuugh pacccc </3) i have more thoughts abt this section but i think i'll just go leave a comment on the fic itself at some point bc it is much too long for this already long ask lmaooo

anyway!! question for you abt your xcom au (if you're still taking questions that is): it's mentioned in the fic that cellbit's psionics are "academic" (if i'm remembering correctly) but pac and mike have a soul bond situation going on, which has a different sort of psionics, from what i've gathered. so, what is the difference? and if cellbit's psionics are "academic," then where and how did he learn them? and how/why are tazercraft soul-bonded? idk if this will be answered in a later fic but basically any spoiler-free info you've got on the psionics in your au that you're willing to share, i'm all ears. for reference i know nothing about xcom besides what you've told me so. yeahh.

(also the way pac and mike can just swap between bodies, mush into each other until they're pac-and-mike, communicate without really having to think words over the bond, that's so cool!! and the way pac takes mike's migraine'd body so that mike can get to sleep <33 can you tell one of my fav parts of this au is the psionics because one of my fav parts of this au is the psionics hfjdsk)

Ah! I'm super glad yo enjoyed it <3 comments here, comments there, whereever you comment it's greatly appreciated and makes me smile <3 The dream bit wasn't originally planned for, but is my favourite

Okay, so psionics. God help us all. First, wiki entries for the actual xcom2 canon so I don't confuse you too much

But I should also yeet you this one...

XCOM2 canon wise its also used by the Templars, so their stuff here:

So okay now I've done that, AU version time.

Eh this isn't super spoilery as the characters just kinda know these bits already, or never actually work it out. The where did Cellbit learn it is relatively easy - he's been nicking shit from the aliens for most of the last decade. In terms of an actual study, the aliens and Federation are far superior than any human run facility. Learning it takes putting your body through a lot of abuse, and leads to specific, defined powers the effects of which are known and quantified. Not everyone /can/ learn it, and some are more naturally talented than others, but with time and effort shit can be worked out. Cellbit's been watching and reading and learning, copying known techniques (even if he snuck shit out without a teacher) in an attempt to learn known powers. Once he meets up with the group he spends time with Antoine and Ironmouse - Antoine literally makes a field of academic study about psionics, what exactly it is and how it functions, while Ironmouse as (openly) a demon has a unique connection to it (she can use the psionic field to eat bits of people's emotions, dulling said emotion in return for power. Indeed, it's a demon's primary food source). But still it's very much a case of 'I know this can be done and this is approximately how to do it, now how do I actually make it so'.

It should be noted that Cellbit's powers can be used on anyone (bar himself in some cases), and because they affect the world generally as well as targets specifically can be boosted or nullified by local environment changes.

Every person makes a dent within the psionic field, by nature of having a soul. Cellbit's use of psionics is learning how to tug at the field around them to have knock-on consequences for the target - or in cases such as when he's trying to shield Pac from a possible threat that time Mike contacted him from too far away, an area around himself as he basically grabs the threads of that layer of reality and forces them to freeze.

Next we pause on specifics to talk about soldier bonds. The early and tbh most useful effect of bonds in game (give an action to your bondmate are actually also powers a PsiOp has access to (AKA Cellbit's class) - hand over an action, and remove negative mental effects when next to each other. It follows then to me that the powers are related, but in a different form - and, notably, they are only able to be used on the bondmate. Bonds form simply by spending time in high stress environments together, and how quickly they form depends on just a random number generated. Every unit has a randomly assigned bond-compatibility with every other unit, which is how many 'points' they earn each mission. Each time the bar maxes out, a bond-pair gets new powers (but only one bondmate per person, and it must be mutual).

To which my read on it and what's going on in this au is that bonds are extremely limited psionic sub-networks. Your souls/minds/whatever have via exposure and stress and shit become partially synched to one another, such that when you are nearby there is a slight ripple effect between you. Allowing for the perfect timing and your encouragement having mechanical effect and all. Just little things, mostly, but it's there.

Now, Pac and Mike. Pac and Mike are weirdos, and I say that with affection. They won't be the only example of what they can do that's ever existed, but given... reasons which are spoilers both for the game and if I ever bother to write plot into the AU, people like them are being actively hunted down. Still, what they have is an extremely powerful version of the basic bond thing, one that has become only more apparent with time.

This is for a few reasons. I'll bullet point the ones I can remember without my notes while sick and having just taken meds which fuck my brain <3

Pac and Mike are both just naturally very sensitive to psionics. This would make them great to learn the sort of stuff Cellbit does! They'd be extremely powerful! But they're also both more susceptible to the powers being used on them (for sake of the fact they weren't in game, their ability to reflexively shield themselves and each other is basically a thing they developed during the initial war when they kept getting hit in the face with these effects and needed to live, and sort of... cancels out their penalty? As long as they get it in time. Their ability to shield each other is superior to themselves, tho)

Pac and Mike are just compatible. Of all the many people in the universe, their souls just happen to harmonise well. Everyone's soul haromises a bit with everyone else's (okay no there are some exceptions but that's due to external factors without having been fucked with they would), and with enough time and effort anyone (same disclaimer) can improve their harmony with anyone else. Most people don't bother, because there's no real... understanding of this as a thing? And most people are never in the sort of constant life-or-death situations for the months if not years it'd take. And then aren't in the sorts of situations to realise they can effect each other. Pac and Mike... Well, theirs just started very in synch

Pac and Mike met very young, and under extremely stressful circumstances. It is very much not the case that all orphanages are abusive, but theirs was (if when it shut down the remaining kids ended up homeless even just a few who got lost in the paperwork its not a good place to be. Which. *gestures at those two*). Also like. Orphanage. Nobody ends up in an orphanage for happy reasons. Mike in paticular was bullied a lot, shit happened, etc. Followed by being homeless. And all of that.

So, by this point, they were heavily in synch. It was them against the world, two teenagers who had a lot of ability to manipulate the psionic field - something at the time humanity in general had no idea existed - constantly together and constantly extremely stressed for years. They didn't notice the initial powers, because why would they? It happened slowly over time and just a bit of. They did, however, notice when they started feeling each other's emotions, something which developed into each other's thoughts.

And then, what's two intellectually curious kids already on the path to a life of crime to do, eh? Well, experiment of course. If they could think at each other, perfecting their timing was a natural step. If they could get perfectly in synch then maybe...

... And oops, they blurred together

And go wow this is really useful I bet we can do it again. And worked it out between them. The bodyswapping and perfect synch they developed as career criminals because um well it's actually really useful if the guy who knows everything about computers and the guy who knows everything at lockpicks can be in two places at once, you know? Just in case one body runs into the problem.

So, yeah, that's how they got here. Cellbit studied already known, tried, and practiced methodology. Tazercraft woke up with telepathy one day and decided to fuck around and find out. Also, because Cellbit has studied how to manipulate the field in general he can use powers on anyone, but they're generally a little weaker. Tazercraft meanwhile manipulate not the field but effectively have a shortcut through it to each other's brains, where they can work directly. A little hole in that layer of reality that connects them together, no matter how far apart - though the further apart they are, the more exhausting it is to reach through. As they manipulate each other's minds/souls/brains directly rather than just tug the area around them to make it shift certain ways, what they can do is a lot more powerful. But, only on each other.

Also different skills, because Cellbit studied (even if it was self-guided study using resources stolen from various places) while Tazercraft ran on instinct, desperation, and curiosity just to see if they could.

(Sorry Tazercraft get more because they have the special custom stuff, while Cellbit just has like. The actual in game stuff.)

I said earlier that there are others like Tazercraft. Not strictly true. There's others whose bonds are as strong, but no pair is going to have stumbled into the same thing.

(The bonds other soldiers form in game having all the same powers? Is because their bonds are being allowed to develop but also being intentionally guided in certain shapes, and also by the /same/ stress factors - ie the fucking aliens - so the things they're doing to try protect each other are similar to the same. Aliens shooting you leads to very different necessities than trying not to starve! Though tbh similar to local bullies keep breaking your nose. And they'll never be as strong, because there's something very different about the bond when you grow up with your souls partially merged and if you connect them as adults. That's if I even decide to keep the other bonds as story things rather than just occasionally they're weirdly in synch. I'm honestly tempted to not keep those bonds that formed in game, and when the powers are significant maybe its an indicator of a bond but its not something anyone knows about. Just. A slightly uncanny timing or lucky shot or whatever.)

But yes also this is one of my favourite bits too! Feel free to continue poking me its just ha;f ten and I'm sick so like. God only knows if this was coherent <3

#ask and answer #qsmp x xcom #qsmp au

[liquidluckandstuff]

For the ask game : S A L U T (french for "hi" I amost wrote "cock" btw but it made me laugh so much I got embarrassed)

(for A : you pick! If you have a fun anecdote about one of your fic titles <3)

S: Any fandom tropes you can’t resist?

(I answered this one a little bit ago lol so copy + paste)

besides the corn prompts?

Voldemort being a total simp over Harry. Like feral obsessed. So enraptured he would sacrifice a death eater just to be in the same room with him.

Harry being forced to make a horcrux

Harry being remade into a horcrux or getting horcrux pt2

anything that focuses on their connection and codependencies

Parseltounge

A: How did you come up with the title to His Brave Boy?

Me and my beta came up with it. We came up with it first because I said it like.. once? I in the fic, and then went back and said it again and again because it was just so sweet.

One of my favorite things i've ever written but I know its not going to get very popular so I'm just kind of like :/ right now.

L: How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

Well, I edit over and over AS I write then I usually do a good hard edit once I finish so like... I don't know how to count that.

U : Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

Latley?

Evaleon70 - one of those situations where all that creativity was overflowing and when the damn finally broke its kick ass story after kickass story. @i-dream-of-libraries

Ghosty - this is gonna sound crazy but so many good drabbles on twitter that i adore (and im so irritated they don't post them on ao3 because BESTIE you're gonna lose them 😭 ) actually idk their ao3 yet but we are working on something 🌶️ together 👀

Leafiloaf - also writer? No. But who woudn't want to include them in a faves list? Their art is always on point and gives my brain a million different ideas and makes me want to drop current wip against my will to go write them. @leafiloaf

T: Any fandom tropes you can’t stand?

I kind of already answered this one again in another one so (copy+Paste)

Im going to answer this softly and not with the Hard corn topics.

Furry stuff freaks me out. Like life your best life, but the fur and animal features and behavior make me feel unwell. But omegaverse stuff where everyone looks human? I can get on that.

I think established relationship is something i can't do simply because i LOVE the build up and chase. I have a really hard time reading it.

Infidelity. Nope I would rather they murder their spouse than cheat.

The humiliation stuff. Like Harry being humiliated in front of death eaters? (especially with the corn/ voyerims stuff) it makes me so uncomfy.

#tomarry #harrymort #harry potter #voldemort #tomarrymort #tom riddle #fanfiction #ask game

[asexualreptile]

For @ashcroft-writes (who else at this point <3)

You might have seen me yelling at you in your comments in ao3 already but if not:

Have an illustration of the absolute beast of an image of Bane eating planet-shaped sweets. Ever since that chapter came out last year, this image has refused to leave me alone until I finally sat down to draw it. And then in the latest chapter it came back?! If I tell you I nearly started screaming at my screen ...! The red planet at the front is Coruscant as the image search suggested, I hadn't expected it to be so vividly red and yellow but I'm sure that made for a tasty looking candy. The colour for the other two planets was determined by what I thought looked nice lol.

If you're looking at this and think 'hold in, Bane is blue though', true.

I don't do realism or accurate copies well and I've seen depictions of Bane floating around that were more concerned with vibes than sticking close to the character design we see in the show, so I let myself be loosely inspired. There was one drawing in particular that used a hmm (body) horror approach with really strong colours and distortion but I can't find it anymore else I'd tag the artist :/

What I used as basis for this design was the skull of my favourite reptile since I can remember: the Komodo Dragon. There really wasn't a ton of thought behind that decision, I just thought it would be sick xD

If you've never heard of these friends, here a link:

Some facts about the Komodo Dragon that floated around in my head as I was drawing:

They're the coolest and I love them <3

I'm wearing a necklace from the protected area of the Komodo island with a Komodo Dragon's tooth right now because they're endangered and the nature park needs money to keep protecting them.

That's it.

...

Just kidding^^

The way that Komodo Dragon's hunt is really fascinating; they're the defintion of 'Work smart Not hard' and only need to get one bite in to kill: For a long time it was believed that the bacteria in their saliva turned the bite wound gangrenous and slowly killed prey but scientists found actual venom glans in their lower jaws that distribute really complex venom. To my knowledge there is no anti venom and unlike most snake who only really attack humans when they feel threatened, K Ds regularly hunt Prey Like horses and water buffalos, they are /not/ scared of humans and though they're somewhat used to our presence, you should keep a very respectful distance at all times.

They reach a length of 10.3 feet (3.13 meters) and even though they look pretty heavy, they can absolutely sprint short distances and hunt a human down.

They're cannibals and young K Ds need to be fast and good climbers to stay alive.

They're covered in body armour. That a reptile is scaly is no real surprise but K Ds are covered in osteoderms which are bone fragments (how metal is that??). Other lizards have them as well but usually only patches K Ds simply have more. And they only get them once they're adults and get out of the trees again. Another link because this is really turning into an Info dump lmao:

Still here? :P

K D have serrated, backwards-facing teeth; what are they for? Cutting really well and leaving gaping wounds; the serration means that snatches of meat are torn out of the wound even when the prey initially gets away. And if I'm getting it right, the wounds themselves aren't cleanly cut which creates an ideal foundation for infection over the next days. The teeth also break off pretty often and grow right back.

Like snakes they have forked tongues and a really keen sense of smell. They also lay eggs and females can apparently reproduce via parthogenesis which is a type of asexual reproduction (diversity win! Haha)

If it hasn't been clear yet, K Ds are apex predators and apart from adult animals they have no known predators in their natural habitat; even humans can't really do anything with their dead bodies as their skin is unsuitable to being turned into leather.

So why have I told you all of this? Yes, because I got excited about an animal that I first learned about when I must have been maybe six at most and have loved ever since. But also because I do think it's a pretty cool spirit animal for our friend Cad Bane. not in every aspect maybe; I do think overall they look a little to heavy for him but the hunting strategy? Once this animal has its eyes (or vomeronasal organ) on you, there is no escaping. A K D paired with actual sapience and a more stable body temperature would be stupidly terrifying. They don't have to run you down, why would they when both you and it know that you can't outrun it. One bite and it's game over and I think that's how being hunted by Cad Bane would feel like.

#ashcroft writes #gunslinger's paean #cad bane #star wars #long post

[monolite001]

I had parents who were very strict about internet usage

I never got allowed to read web comics or play mobile games so I could only get to text-heavy websites

Which led me to spending time reading Korean equivalent of Wikipedia

One day in 2016 on tis website I read an article about a trending, award-winning video game called "Undertale". I was 14.

Something about this game appealed to me immediately. I bought it on Steam. That was the first time I ever purchased a video game.

Needed a language patch because I wasn't fluent in English back then. Became a member of a video game community just to have the language patch. That was my first time I ever got into an online community.

Finished the game without searching anything up. Finished every route. I loved the game. I started to look for more secrets and info from the community mentioned above.

People posted fan arts and fan fics there. I read them. I loved them. That was my first ever exposure to a fandom.

I watched the fandom grow. AUs started to develop. I liked them. Got interested in reading the original contents for the AUs, which were mostly in English.

And that just HAPPENED to be around the time I came to America and my English started to improve

I could read so many comics. I looked at so many different Tumblr blogs. Then I learned AO3 was a thing. That was a huge different world full of fan fictions.

I found that Error was my favorite. If it involved Error, I gave it a try. Mostly oneshots tho, because English still wasn't my first language and I was the world's slowest reader.

Then one day I came across a 25 chapter, 140k-word-long fic. The prologue already was half an hour of reading for me.

And I somehow decided to keep reading it. Knowing fully well it would take me at least a month with my normal reading speed. I just felt like I would like this fic.

And that was The Council of the Inevitable. I read all of it in 3 days, from start to finish, doing nothing else during those days.

That story was breathtaking. Literally. I never felt so absorbed into anything ever before. I ranted about it in my personal notes. I ranted about how much I loved the author wrote the characters just so perfectly and how brilliant the plot was. I also started writing my own little analysis and theories amd predictions.

I re read the fic. And I re re read it. I wrote more notes. I did that for 3 years, from 2020 to 2023. I wrote over 200 notes about it.

And I decided that it was physically unberable to keep that level of excietment and passion just to myself. I wrote an ask to the author's Tumblr blog I had found, including a fanart and a message about how much I loved her fic.

And she replied. She followed me back. I posted a couple more fan arts I had made and she liked them too.

And she had a Discord server. I looked at it and thought, maybe in there are people who love this story just as much as I do. I downloaded Discord created an account. I joined the server.

And I was right. And I never knew how much fun it was to have people who love the same thing as I do. Someone to share my excitement with.

So I'm really not exaggerating when I say everything regarding TCOTI was a miracle.

If any of the things listed above didn't happen I wouldn't have been here right now. What are the odds, really?

So if THIS happened, who's to say something as good as this wouldn't happen again?

TL;DR: My parents were strict. This led me to shipping copies of the same skeleton falling in love with each other.

#Mono thinks

[justagalwhowrites]

I was on AO3 attempting to finish Beskar doll (I read 3 chapters) when I got the notification that you posted a new one-shot. I couldn't get it pulled up fast enough! It was amazing just like everything you write.

I also decided to reread Yearling. I told you I wouldn't be able to stop thinking about it until I got answers. So here are some thoughts.

1. Chapter one was really sad. I read it thinking of how scared she must have been not knowing what was going on. I couldn't imagine having to kill someone I love like that to save myself. It was also sad because it really gives a glimpse into who Bambi was before she was Bambi. She was a totally different person back then. I'm sure living through the end of the world would change anyone but for her, it was so much more than that. I want revenge against everyone who even thought about hurting her!

2. I absolutely love the fact that you wrote Bambi to be bisexual. It was a sweet story but I hate that Marisa just left her though. Although, I'm not really that upset about it because now she has Joel.

3. I found more breadcrumbs! If the breadcrumbs are what I think they are there were a few in chapter 8 that I missed. I think that was the chapter. It's the one where we learned about Marisa. I'm pretty sure I'm on the right track with my theory. I'm also pretty certain what I was wondering after chapter 9 is true.

4. Dear god, you love angst! I mean we all already knew that but I didn't realize just how much angst there was until I read it all together.

5. It's funny to me how things just hit differently in a slow burn. You find yourself being so damn excited that they touched even if it's accidental. Then when she asks him to hold her she may as well have asked him to fuck her. It was THAT monumental. I think I'm more excited for them to have their first kiss than I was for the Lavender fuckening!

6. Yup, you're definitely going to be at the top of every best seller's list there is one day. You can't convince me otherwise and I will have signed copies of ALL of your books, damn it!

I'm not going to apologize for rambling this time because you said you liked it. So just remember you asked for this! 🤣

HI BESTIEEEEEEE :D

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH OK HERE'S MY INSANELY LONG REPLY

Break because the reply is SO DAMN LONG lmfao

Yes, chapter 1 was sad. I love who Bambi is now but I also love who she's trying to get back to. We see parts of her every now and then - like when she was full on about to brawl with Simon for hurting Ellie for example, all her banter with Tommy for another. I think, eventually, she's going to reach a point where there's more of who she was before along with the parts of her that have changed or sprung into existence with her trauma. But as she becomes more and more comfortable with Joel - and Jackson and humanity in general - we'll see more of chapter 1 Bambi.

BISEXUAL BAMBIIIIIIIII! I love this character in part because I feel like she really does contain multitudes. She gravitates toward a lot of stereotypically masculine things - like breaking horses - but also LOVES the feminine - like women rockers and romantic movies. She kind of exists all over this spectrum and likes it that way. She feels most at home in her Levis and a button down and cowboy boots but, before she figured out how to effectively rebel against her mother's beauty pageant wishes, she won pageants because she can fully look the part all glammed up. Her horse experience reflects this, too, doing both bronc riding and trick riding. We'll see more Marisa - and other women in Bambi's life - in flashbacks too :)

Some of my most explicit breadcrumbs were in chapter 8! There was one where I was like "this is almost fully telling people what this is" and no one has mentioned it to me yet. I'll point out the big things in the reveal chapter, though!

I AM SUCH A SLUT FOR ANGST it's a problem. Thanks for putting up with it lmfao (also, it's gonna get REAL ANGSTY for a while too)

And OMG I'm LOVING how the small intimacies feel with this kind of a slow burn. Because it's not so much like will they/won't they longing kind of stuff there's so much tied up in it all. Any kind of intimacy - especially physical intimacy, not just sexual intimacy - is such a huge thing for Bambi. For literal years, the only touch she had was cruel. That is a lot of conditioning to undo. I think it's hard for her because - as I think you can tell from the flashbacks especially - she's always been a physical person. Her love language would probably be physical touch if I really thought about it, so feeling like she needs to be physically disconnected from people to be safe while also desperately WANTING touch so she can feel loved are these warring drives inside her. Right now, the safety need is outweighing the need for love with everyone BUT Joel. Maybe Ellie, too. She, at least on some level, wants to be the person who would walk up to a coworker who had been blatantly checking her out, tell him she'd fuck him and then do exactly that. I will say that, because of how physical Bambi is as a person (in just about everything, she really feels most herself when she's using her body) that, once the dam breaks with more explicitly romantic/sexual intimacy (which is getting close to happening with Joel) the rest will come rather quickly. That need for love and physical touch is going to overpower the safety need real quick.

And AHHHH BESTIE!! I sure hope so! I'm going to try to get off my ass and query Ace this week and see how it goes. Fingers crossed for me?

Thank you SO MUCH for all your rambles because I love them every time! And thank you for being here and for reading and always being so kind and supportive and lovely and wonderful. You're the best <3

Love you!!!

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #kit answers #send asks #yearling

[wreckedtodeathandback]

Fic Writer Tag

Tagged by the lovely @oliviassunrise, thank you ❤️

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

11... for now

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

473,874

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mainly TLOU right now! But I have a lot of unpublished L&O: SVU and Dramione fics collecting dust too

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Stubborn Love - tlou; modern au

Precious Cargo - tlou; Ellie sick fic; Joel pov

So Much For Cargo - tlou; Ellie sick fic; Ellie pov of Precious Cargo

Bitter - tlou; Ellie pov drabble from episode 6

Rooftop Rendezvous - tlou; canon verse alternate meet; Joel pov

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes, always! I usually wait until I have the next chapter ready if it's on the most recent chapter of a long fic tho, cause I feel compelled to have something to offer in return

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't like writing angsty endings these days, all about the happy endings recently but probably the first installment of my OG hp fic where the main OC is taken to prison at the end.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Maybe this is cheating cause it's not published yet but it's gonna be Stubborn Love when we get there.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not so far and if I ever do I'll just tell them to come back with a warrant.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Not so much.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Not currently, maybe someday if the right idea hit me.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of and I'm not sure I'd want to know. I have had illustrations stolen and it's not a fun feeling.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No but I would be honored to have that happen.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes but nothing that's published.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

How does anyone pick a favorite all time ship? I guess the one I've obsessed over the longest is Elliot x Olivia

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Probably the hp trilogy I started when I was like 13 lol. It's my first fic so I'd love to finish it but the hp vibes are not what they once were.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I love planting little details of foreshadowing and landing emotional gut punches.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I have to go through about 4 drafts of anything before I'm happy enough with it to publish it. Which means I am sloooooow at updating.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I'm no where near fluent enough in any other languages to include it in my fic without substantial support and I am too shy to ask for that so probably not happening for me. I do enjoy it when other writers include it tho.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

I have an ~84 page hand written Power Rangers fic from when I was like 10, specifically the In Space cast meets the Time Force cast if I remember right.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Stubborn Love, hands down. It's been such a joy to plot and write and I've just put so much into it and there's still a lot left but I'm already planning to bind myself a physical copy of it when it's done because I love it so dang much.

I shall tag: @captainredspade @ameerawrites and @becomethesun if you feel like it ofc, no pressure! ❤️

#writing things #tag games

[terapsina]

20 questions for fic writers

Tagged by @isagrimorie (thanks, this looks fun 🤩).

---

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

120

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count?

324,790

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I'll just copy-and-paste from ao3, cuz I'm not writing all that down.

The Vampire Diaries (TV) (25), Legacies (TV 2018) (12), Person of Interest (TV) (9), Once Upon a Time (TV) (9), Leverage (US TV 2008) (7), Shadowhunters (TV) (7), Doctor Who (2005) (5), Arrow (TV 2012) (4), Merlin (TV) (4), Captain Marvel (2019) (3), 苍兰诀 | Love Between Fairy and Devil (TV) (3), Batwoman (TV 2019) (3), The 100 (TV) (3), Willow (TV 2022) (3), Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV) (2), The Magicians (TV) (2), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling (2), Supergirl (TV 2015) (2), The Originals (TV) (2), Star Wars - All Media Types (2), The Old Guard (Movie 2020) (2), Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types (2), The Good Place (TV) (2), Avatar: Legend of Korra (2), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV) (2), Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV) (2), Charmed (TV 2018) (1), Angel: the Series (1), Wednesday (TV 2022) (1), Star Trek: Voyager (1), Teen Wolf (TV) (1), Star Wars: Rebels (1), Sweet/Vicious (TV) (1), Star Trek (1), Star Wars: Ahsoka (TV) (1), Lost Girl (TV) (1), Legend of the Seeker (TV) (1), Hustlers (2019) (1), Stargate SG-1 (1), Revolution (TV) (1), Sanctuary (Canada TV 2008) (1).

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

5 Times The Doctor Talked About River Song With Graham (+1 Time The Fam Finally Met Her) - the 13/River fic where Graham finds the Doctor's missing wedding ring and she gradually opens up about her wife.

“Her name was River Song.” She says once he’s already taken a few steps. He stops, turning around, giving her the opportunity to continue or not as she needs. “She was an archaeologist. And a professor. And a criminal. And she was brilliant and absolutely mad.”

“She must have been. Married you didn’t she?” Graham jokes before he can help himself.

But Doc just grins like she agrees and laughs to herself.

Something uncoils in Graham’s chest at seeing Doc’s face regaining its natural brightness, however tinged with grief. The grief isn’t new either, he’s seen shadows of it in her all along but this is the first moment she doesn’t seem to be trying to hide it. Or maybe the first time she’s not trying to hide from it.

The Suspicious Case of Tribbles - the 13/River fic where River tries to "borrow" the TARDIS for lil'bit.

"Don't mind me. Carry on!" The woman says, dropping a bag of something heavy that sounds like a bag of rocks to the floor and hurrying towards the TARDIS controls. "I'm only here to establish an alibi. A short hop over to the other side of the hemisphere and some 38 planetary hours in the past should do it. I'll send you lot right back to him none the wiser. It'll be our little secret."

She's Come Undone and Set Free - Elejah, Bonbekah, Klaroline and Elena/Caroline/Bonnie/Rebekah friendship story that deals with Elena and Caroline getting to be angry and making Damon pay for what he did to them, as well as supporting each other and beginning to heal. (WIP, but there's only 2 chapters to go).

“I want you to know, that’s not why I will always hate you, Damon.” She strengthened her hold on his face at the look of caution that was surfacing at her words, likely because he’d just now been remembering that not that long ago she’d broken his neck. “I won’t even hate you because of the sire bond. Though I wasn’t lying, it felt like being a slave to your every desire, whether or not you actually voiced them. And the funny thing? I’m not sure I’ll ever know how much me there was when I was making any of the choices that lead to Jeremy dying.”

“What’s your point?” Damon asked and grabbed her hands in a vice-like grip that made it impossible for Elena to try again what she'd done nearly two days ago when she'd regained her humanity. But she'd already known there wasn’t a point trying now that he'd be expecting it, so she didn’t fight to escape him.

“She’s my best friend, Damon. I will never forgive you for what you did to her,” she said and did absolutely nothing as Damon’s eyes widened and he tried to turn around. He wasn’t fast enough. He’d been too consumed by Elena to pay attention to any other heartbeats around them, and despite her age, Caroline had always been an unusually fast vampire.

Morai's Call to Hope - my Star Wars, time travel, Snips and Skyguy fic where Anakin gets pulled into the World Between Worlds three days before his Fall, watches as Darth Vader is about to kill Ahsoka... aaaaaaand jumps forward to stop him. (WIP and I'm very ashamed about it, because I loved writing this story and really hope to get back to it someday)

From behind Anakin there comes again a whisper from a different time: ‘I would never let anyone hurt you, Ahsoka… never…’

But in front of Anakin comes something else.

‘Then you will die,' the Sith says in direct contradiction to everything Anakin has ever promised both aloud and inside his own heart to the closest thing he’s ever had to a little sister or a daughter. And every single cell of his body rebels against a time where he would ever utter those words to Ahsoka. So even as the red lightsaber ignites in the Sith’s hands, Anakin rushes forward and through the fragile line of a portal separating his reality from theirs.

As the Sith’s lightsaber finishes the arch of its blow instead of encountering Ahsoka’s white dual sabers it’s stopped by the intervening block from a blue lightsaber in the hands of the Anakin Skywalker sixteen years out of his time.

You know who you remind me of? - the 13/River fic where the Doctor is in the middle of hiding under a table with Yaz for plot reasons when she hears the sound of her wife's laughter and is immediately distracted from the mission that brought them there.

The laugh is thick with mischief and a galaxy of secrets.

She knows that laugh.

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to. I adore comments and really truly appreciate receiving them, so I do try to respond to them. But sometimes I get into a kind of slump where replying just feels exhausting. And by the time I'm over that, it might have been like two weeks, and then it feels embarrassing to respond.

And sometimes I just don't know WHAT to say.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Probably Last Words. I do have quite a few angsty fics but I usually end them either happily or with an open ending that's got light at the end of the tunnel. But this once I came up with an idea for soulmate-identifying-last-words and then wrote a Korrasami fic for it.

Asami had known that Korra was her soulmate. And like everyone else she was in no hurry to see it proven. And there she might be counted lucky, because she did not learn it for many years to come. They survived the war with Kuvira, and then returned from their vacation in the spirit world, and survived many more battles beyond that. The Avatar lived a long life.

But Asami Sato lived a longer one.

So that has the saddest ending.

Well, that, or maybe what's the point of greater good, which is my Queliot (with a side of Wickoff) story where Julia talks to Quentin during the time Eliot was possessed by the Monster.

She finds him stubbornly looking through the mountain of books, searching for any and every scrap of information on Enyalius they can get. He looks like he hasn’t slept since the moment weeks ago when Eliot managed to surface for those brief few moments to tell them he was alive. Hope’s a bitch that way.

“We need to stop him Q.” Julia says, from behind him.

Quentin’s shoulders freeze in place and he leans forward, hands clenching the spine of the book he’d just been about to pick up.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Like I said, I tend to mostly write happy endings. But if I have to pick what I considered as the happiest one, then here's a story that's full of angst in the middle, which made the ending feel even happier because of the contrast.

6 Times Bellamy Tried to Forget That He Was in Love With Clarke (+1 Time He Couldn’t Anymore) - exactly what it sounds like. My big look into Bellamy's head through most of the seasons. Canon almost to the end, where I sharply switch tracks and give Bellarke the happy ending they goddamn deserved.

The first thing he saw as the delinquents pulled aside the sheets of scrap metal to let their two missing people in was Clarke running in front, scraped up but seemingly uninjured. He wished that the relief that overtook him was entirely selfish, that it had to do with the fact that he had his partner back and he wouldn’t have to carry the burden of their people’s lives all by himself. But that was crap.

It was vastly overpowered by the simple joy of seeing that Clarke was alright.

“Hey, we heard an explosion. What happened?” she fired out rapidly as soon as she was in front of him. Face serious and eyes focused entirely on Bellamy, - and it was something that had gotten to be so familiar to him that it almost felt like having her there was akin to getting back a missing limb.

He almost, almost fell to the instinct to pull her into his arms because he was just so damned glad that she was alive that the only thing that saved him was the fact Jasper got there first.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not a lot. But there's been a few occasions where I have gotten some, yes. Mostly the 'this was a waste of my time' variety.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Not... really? On a few rare occasions I've written a bit of spice but I don't think that people that read smut would give me more than 2.5⭐ out of 5⭐.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Yes. When the idea for one strikes. And I don't know if I'd say it's the craziest one, but definitely a fun one is my Stargate SG-1/Leverage crossover where the Stargate Program needs to recruit some thieves.

The Homeworld Security Job. (incidentally this is also the fic that got me the most amount of hate comments).

“I know, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying that no one at SGC can go, you need thieves for this mission. And this is a big planet, you guys must have some good ones between those 7.5 billion people. You get me a few of them and I can teach them how to play a wealthy minor Goa’uld long enough to get in and out. But I can’t teach someone to be a good enough liar to not get caught. Not with the time we have here.”

“What do you want us to do, Vala? Grab a bunch of criminals off the street and hope they don’t decide that stealing a Stargate and selling that to the highest bidder instead would be a more lucrative business plan?” Cameron asks.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I'm aware.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Once. My Lunarry fic the ones that seek and find (six years in the relationship of harry and luna) has a translation into Chinese Mandarin 探寻和发现（哈利与卢娜相处的六年).

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No. It's always sounded kinda complicated.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

I do NOT have a one single favorite ship. But there are a few that I will probably never let go of and those are: Elejah, Swan Queen, Hizzie, Bellarke, Spuffy, Doctor/River, Clizzy, Bering and Wells, Kahlan/Cara, Parker/Hardison, Graylora and DFQC/XLH.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

All of them 😭.

But especially the Star Wars time travel one I mentioned earlier. I love that one so much. And I want to go back to it and finish it. But the stars aren't looking all that bright.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I'd like to think that I'm good at getting into characters' heads. Their inner monologues tend to be the easiest part to write (it's the dialogues and surrounding scenes that trip me up).

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Grammar. English isn't my first language, so the fiddly parts of the grammar is what I've picked up through osmosis while reading, which isn't exactly... a flawless way to do it.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I've done it a few times (mostly in my Clizzy fics, because Izzy's character peppers a decent bit of Spanish in her dialogue on the show) and have nearly always kind of regretted it (I've needed to do fixes nearly every time, had to learn that google translate cannot be trusted the hard way).

19. First fandom you wrote for?

If I remember correctly, then I think that was a very terrible attempt at a BtVS/Stargate SG-1 crossover that has been deleted since then.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

This is a very predictable answer but that's She's Come Undone and Set Free, I'm just really proud of this story for a lot of reasons. And though there are a few other of my fics I love more than others, this one is just... my favorite of all of them.

---

Tagging: @vorpalmuchness, @jennifersminds, @muse-oleum, @amandamonroe and whoever else wants to.

#ask meme #writing #terapsina rambles #terapsina's writing rambles #elejah #thirteen x river #river x thirteen #bellarke #bonbekah #tvd #stargateverse #leverage #stargate sg1 #doctor who #star wars #clone wars #queliot #the magicians

[thedemonscrawler]

❌🧐🤗

❌ What’s a trope you will never write?

Miscommunication for the sake of drama or dragging out pining. It's just frustrating to watch characters dance around each other for chapters over something that can be resolved by sitting down and having a single conversation.

🧐 Do you spend much time researching for your stories?

It doesn't feel like it because I'll do my research as the moment comes up, but uh, considering that my other window is:

gameplay VOD to get the layout of an area

compiled map of the Pizzaplex

Sun's main render, for moral support and checking design details

triple-a-fazbear wiki, for renders and cut voice lines

IGN's game walkthrough, for detailed step-by-step of how the night goes

freddy-fazbears-pizza wiki, for general information and regular voice lines

a friendship bracelet pattern im working on that has nothing to do with writing

Permission Slip's mobile copy on Google Docs

an unrelated oneshot

Permission Slip's AO3

VenomQuil's Misplaced Trust, which I'm using for ideas on how to write a particular scene

...yeah I think I spend a lot of time researching.

🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?

Know how you want your story to end before you post it! It'll save you a lot of headaches if you know you're working towards "okay and then they kiss" or whatever. I also recommend some kind of outline, even if it's a bullet list of things you want to happen, because otherwise it gets really hard once you get past your initial scenes and realize you have no idea how you're going to get to the next thing you wanna write.

But mostly? Don't sweat it. It's no big deal if you abandon a fic because you lost interest, or if what you write isn't perfect, or if there's already a hundred like it out there. Write what makes you happy and there's guaranteed to be a couple of folks out there who are gonna like it too

..i guess more nitpicky advice is also be CONFIDENT. don't put 'this is my first fic im sorry if it's bad' or 'the beginning is slow but it picks up around chapter 3' in the summary. Have confidence! Just use the summary to tell folks what the fic is about, and use the author's notes for your justifications (though I still believe you shouldn't apologize just for making something). Most readers wouldn't even notice or care until you pointed these things out.

[toointojoelmiller]

please don’t go: a last of us fic

chapter 12

----

after David / Silver Lake / post-episode 8

angst, Joel & Ellie bonding, 99% canon compliant

rating: mature - content warnings re: s/a, violence, more

I'm no longer copying this over to tumblr because it got way too long and it's too much!!!! Read on ao3 for the updated chapters

ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 4 | ch 5 | ch 6 | ch 7 | ch 8 | ch 9 | ch 10 | ch 11 | ch 12

----

The few fleeting years that he got with Sarah were spent spread thin. Time, energy, money, sleep – never enough of any of it.

On the first night that it was just the two of them – along with some newly blank walls, empty dresser drawers, and a bathroom counter that looked alien without brushes and sponges and bottles scattered across it – he had the first panic attack of his life. In the middle of warming up a bottle, he realized couldn’t get any air into his chest - and then he was on the floor, back pressed against the cabinet under the sink - formula spilled, bottle needing to be sanitized again. When the pounding in his ears softened and the world started to leak back in, he heard what he’d been missing for however long he’d spent shrinking into ground - Sarah’s hungry little wail from the living room - calling out for him, helpless and alone in her bassinet. It felt like the start of a lifetime of letting her down.

She was colicky her first year - the sleep deprivation felt like it was breaking him apart - sometimes so exhausted he didn’t trust himself to hold her out of fear he would drop her, so she’d suffer then too, crying for comfort he was too afraid to give. There were life-giving, blissful moments that made him whole - little coos and finger grasps, the feeling of holding and snuggling and breathing her smell in - all perfect and warm - but in between he thought the impossibility of it all would smother him. When she would finally sleep he’d lay on his bed with his heart racing, palms sweating, panting his way through sheer terror - and then she’d wake, and he’d swallow it down - try to hold himself together again.

Tommy helped out where he could, but he was just a kid himself - and then he was overseas - and on minimum wage full-time didn’t even come close to cutting it so Joel needed to work more than full-time hours just to keep her fed with a roof overhead - which meant paying for more than full-time child care - and he hated that he was working for money to spend on leaving her with strangers all day - hated that so much of the time he got to be with her was spent asleep. Most nights he’d stay up too late just to have more time to look at her, watch her breathe - and, always, work away at the never ending list - laundry, dishes - look for better jobs, more jobs - decide which bills to short that month.

The hardest to live with were the weeks, in those early years before he got into some decent paying work, where an unexpected expense would pop up and he’d find - doing the math at the kitchen table at night - that they didn’t have enough money to feed them through to his next pay day. Sarah never went hungry, of course - he did sometimes - but the shame of nearly not being able to provide his baby the bare minimum she needed to grow, to live – felt like it stained him.

It felt a bit like now. He’s craning his neck and squinting to try to sharpen his vision, even though he already knows – it’s obvious from a fair distance that there’s nothing in the traps. It’s not a surprise - probably twice in 20 years has he caught something in a snare that’d been set for less than a day - but he still sags with disappointment. Hates that he went out to look in the first place - something might have been scared off by the sight or smell of him – and Jesus Christ does he smell.

And now he’s walking back empty handed – Ellie will be hungry for another night, tiny body wasting away, eating itself up to keep her going.

He starts heading back to the little building, his brain wandering on its own - he’s wishing he’d never watched those TV specials about eating disorders in girls. He hadn’t actually worried about Sarah that way - girl would clean out the whole fridge in one night if he’d let her - but the perils of teenage-hood had seemed like a terrifying threat on their horizon sometimes.

If only he fucking knew .

All any of that was good for, turns out, was the nagging worry he’s been feeling all day, unable to ignore just how thin Ellie’s become. Unable to stop imagining her little heart suddenly giving out on her.

She’s up and on her feet now - he can see the pale blur of her face peeking out the window in his direction as he makes his way back - raises a hand at her in a little wave.

Most of the day had passed by in a slow daze - Ellie curled up, sometimes sleeping but mostly uncomfortable, repositioning and shuffling with groans - Joel staying at her side, repeating their ice-pack routine a few more times when she’d ask him to.

When she was sleeping, he’d nodded off a few times - struggling to keep himself up, foggy and drained - the warmth built up under the thick sleeping bag-blanket and the sun streaming in the window making it all too easy to relax. He was getting too weak to fight it.

A bonus that he hadn’t expected - the sun was so warm he’d tried putting the first aid kit - half-slush half-water - up on the shelf to bask in it, and when he checked it after a few hours, only water remained - slightly less than absolutely freezing cold to the touch – enough to refill her thermos, and half of his, too. He’d been able to get a good amount of water into her here and there, and got her to crunch up another two glucose-tubes - but she stubbornly refused to have the other, insisting that it was for him.

She’s a bright kid, but if she thinks that he’s going to be having their last one, well -

When he opens the door, kicking the snow off his boots before he steps back in, she’s standing next to window, leaning over a bit, supporting herself with an arm braced on the shelf.

“Nothing?” She asks, not really a question.

He grunts in confirmation, then says - “Oughta get somethin’ tomorrow - mornin’, hopefully. You should lay d-”

“I know - just needed to get off my ass. Feels like it’s gonna fall off.”

He rolls his eyes at her, mainly for her amusement, as he slips the rifle off and sets it against the wall again. Shrugs out his shoulder, trying to loosen up the twinge pinching in his neck.

“I hate just sitting around,” she mumbles.

He snorts a bit at that - “No kiddin’ - think I figured that out about you on day one,” he says. When she doesn’t say anything he adds, “S’just temporary, kiddo. Won’t be for long." 

An anxious look passes over her face as she asks, “When can we leave?”

He sighs. Knows he needs to answer this carefully - not sure if she’s ready to hear what he’s going to say. No clue how much of the logistics of the situation they are in she’s really thought through yet - doesn’t want to distress her.

“Well,” he starts – trying to be cautious but feeling clumsy as he talks through it - “you gotta be able to walk, for - for a few miles, so… And - we’re both - if we run into, uh,  trouble - we need to be able to handle it. Need to get some food in us, first, before we can do much.”

He doesn’t need to say anything further - her face crumples in disappointment - there’s no way around the truth. Still, with the way she’s looking so defeated - he wishes he could take the words back.

“Hope we fucking catch something,” she mutters. She looks down at her feet.

“Yeah,” he says, “Me too.” Still too scared to ask how long it’s been since she’s eaten.

“You warm enough?” he says instead. “Want the jacket for a bit? I’m fine without.”

“Nah. I gotta sit back down in a minute. My fucking head … when astronauts are in training they go in these big spinny things – called a centrifuge -”

Joel feels a small smile tug at his lips - “Centri-fuge,” he corrects her gently - she’d said it with a hard “g”. The sound of her voice, talking in full sentences – talking about the usual shit she loves to talk about - has him feeling a bit lighter.

“Really? ‘Centrifuge’ - anyway, they practice so they don’t like, hurl and pass out when they launch for real — it kinda feels like my head is in one of those.”

Dizzy, nauseated - not unexpected - she’s still only somewhere between 12-24 hours out from whenever her head was hit – “lots”, she had said. The sad little line she’s drawn connecting her space fascination and this hell she’s living through makes the almost-smile drop from his face immediately.

She turns a little to look at the shelf under the window, and he notices for the first time that she’s got the map out spread open in front of her. “Look,” she says, and he steps over to see her finger pointing south of where they are, near Denver - a little red square, next to ‘Dinosaur Ridge’. “And - ” she slides her finger over to the left a bit, until she lands on ‘Dinosaur Journey Museum’ - “was Denver the dino-capital of the country or something?”

He hasn’t let himself think about those days in so long – Sarah always in the lead and pulling him along behind her, chattering away – had something to say in front of what seemed like nearly every exhibit, knowing things she had no business knowing - “Nerd alert,” he’d tease in a stage whisper, and she’d stick her tongue out at him over her shoulder, quipping back “Well somebody has to bring the Miller family IQ up from the depths and it sure ain’t gonna be you or Uncle Tommy” -

The list of things that Ellie deserves and will never get is endless, and this doesn’t compare to the fundamentals she’s been robbed of — family, safety, peace — but he feels a surge of anger at the cruelty of it anyway. It should be about an hour’s drive - they should be climbing in the truck on a weekend morning for a drive-thru breakfast and a fight over the radio station - he should spend way too much money on crap at an overpriced gift shop, a stupid dinosaur hat she won't take off for weeks – instead she gets to look at the names of long gone places on an old, bloody map, daydreaming about what she’ll never have.

“Earth to Joel,” Ellie’s saying in a voice that makes it clear it’s not the first time she’s tried to get his attention.

“Sorry - just thinkin’ –”

She’s looking at him expectantly. He has to work hard to keep his voice sounding light.

“I got no idea what ‘Dinosaur Ridge’ is, but – Denver’s not all that special – I’d guess there’re more than, ah – I dunno – a dozen museums about dinosaurs – nah, more. Maybe one in every state.”

Her eyes widen at that, and keeping up the trend of making her promises he’s afraid he won’t be able to keep  -

“Tell you what - we’ll go someday, find one somewhere still standin’. They have these, ah – sign things all around museums, tellin’ you about the stuff – can finally fact check you, see how much you’re just makin’ up.”

“Shut up,” she says - but her eyes are soft, and she could almost be smiling when she follows up with a quiet, “That’d be cool.”

The nice moment doesn’t last long – she sighs, looks out the window a bit forlornly, and then mumbles, “I have to pee again. Your fault for making me drink all day.”

He puts an arm across her back to help her outside. When the door opens she cringes, hard, scrunching up her face, hissing “Ugh, fuck.”

“Y’alright?” He asks, looking down at her in concern.

She nods, putting a hand up to partially cover her eyes for a few seconds. “Too bright - hurts.”

Even though it’s clearly painful for her to do so, as he helps her get down the steps he catches the way she’s glancing around them in every direction - looking for threats on the horizon.

It’s a repeat of the night before - he shouldn’t have expected anything else. She’s limping, wincing with every step - ends up just tucking around the corner of the building again - so unbalanced he wonders how she didn’t fall over standing up on her own inside. He gives her some space for a few minutes, wandering around aimlessly on the other side of the building, never going far.

When she reappears after a few minutes, steadying herself on the building with her hands, her face has gone completely flat. She looks like a different kid than the one he’d been talking to inside, minutes ago. His heart sinks.

“You alright?” he asks, knowing she’s not. She doesn’t answer – doesn’t seem to hear him at all - looking ahead, eyes distant in that wounded way he’s too familiar with.

“C’mon, you’re ok,” he says - arm back around her to hold her up, hurrying her back up to the door. It seems like she’s barely picking her boots up off the ground – toes dragging each time she steps. Back inside, he takes her straight across the room to her sleeping bag again. She doesn’t fight him on it when he helps her lower back down to the ground, sitting against his pack again.

When she’s tucked back in the sleeping bag, she tugs it up so it’s almost fully covering her head, and turns to her side. Facing the wall, her back to him.

“Ellie?” He tries softly. Feeling helpless.

She’s not asleep, but she doesn’t respond.

Doesn’t move again at all until they hear the gunshot.

----

link to whole story (work in progress) on AO3

#the last of us fic #the tipsy bison #Joel Miller #Ellie Williams #tlou episode 8 #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #silver lake #angst #my fic

[reiverreturns]

[20 Question Fic Writer Tag]

Tagged by my darling @milfeivor. I may not have written consistently in months but BOY do I like talking about it.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Twelve

2. What is your AO3 word count?

122,303

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Well I'm not writing much at all at the moment (bad menty health innit) but over the last year it's been pretty much entirely Top Gun Maverick, with some Assassin's Creed in the background just for funsies

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Quiet Promises (TGM) - 418

For Those We Left Behind  (ACV) - 383

Calefaction (TGM) - 292

Attrition (ACV) - 225

When We Collide (We Come Together) (TGM) - 184

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to respond to every comment I get because I think it's common courtesy when someone's taken the time and effort to leave one. I'm a little bit out of practice though (kiss kiss kiss grovel grovel grovel @ those left on read in my inbox)

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Blessed Are The Meek (FC5) maybe? A canon-compliant character study of Jacob Seed and his fucked up cult family has no iteration where things turn out well in the end.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I don't know actually - maybe Quiet Promises because I just really enjoy that ending and it's one of the only bits of published fic I've written I can reread and not want to edit more. If I ever finished writing the last chapter of Swim Until You Can't See Land it would probably be that but I'm just so very very lazy.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I had a tumblr anon one give me shit for not putting icemav in a fic but it was so fuckin weird to get I just deleted the ask. My brother/sister/comrade in christ I am the most niche rarepair stay-in-my-lane kind of fic writer. I am not a popular author in any fandom I write in. Why on earth would you think I care.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I try to write smut once a year when Eurovision sends me into my annual bisexual frenzy. It's not very good (my smut, not Eurovision)

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Short answer is no. Long answer is no with the exception of a Pacific Rim/Assassin's Creed crossover which I keep as a never-to-publish deliriously self-indulgent writing exercise to dip into when I don't feel like being perceived through words. I've got a whole Hytham/Jacob thing going that I'm fucking feral for which is soooooooo big brained of me imo.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of. I've read fics before where I can pick up a clear influence from my work on theirs but nothing like a straight up copy + paste.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nah. I've considered translating my own fics into Scots but it feels like a lot of effort for the sprinkle of folks who might read it.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No but I wouldn't be against it. I did a lot of rp writing back in the day with OCs and I really liked the collaborative aspect of it.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

I don't pick favourites I love all my insane children equally. I will say most ships I gravitate towards have a doomed by the narrative / love doesn't conquer all but it's enough in the moment kind of dynamic and I can trace that back to some of my early favourites (Ten/Rose, Merthur) to now (Kassidas, Eivor/Vili, RebelCaptain, so on)

15. What's a WIP you'd like to finish but doubt you ever will?

For Those We Left Behind. I have a lot of love for that fic but it is very reflective of the time in my life when I started writing it (bouncing off the walls bored out my tits under lockdown.) Lots of enthusiasm and energy to pour into it but little patience or planning. I look back on it as an unwieldy, rambly thing. I still do pick at it (and want to keep updating) but if we're honest I don't think I'll ever quite reach the finish line beyond the pieces that are already firmed up in my head.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I can turn a tasty metaphor on occasion. I tend to think I have a strong handle on the characters I write the perspective of and put a lot of effort into making them feel true and honest to the source material.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Plot - there's a reason why I tend to write canon compliant/canon adjacent and it's because it gives me the bones of the canon to work from. Pacing is a perpetual struggle. My attempts at smut are laughable.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

If it's done to serve a narrative purpose and/or show something about a character, sure why not. Absolutely abhor written out accents though (unless, again, for a very specific narrative/character purpose.)

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter and Stargate. There's probably still some 12/13 year-old Reiver fic floating around in the internet ether that I hope no one is ever subjected to again.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

I honestly don't have one - everything I've published I've loved at one point or another for a variety of reasons. Gun to my head I'll say Quiet Promises because I think it's one of the highest quality fics in my catalogue from an editing, pacing, and character perspective. Writing isn't about the technical skill to me though, it's about how it makes me feel and the audience feel, so no favourites here.

Tagging is still dogshit on desktop so consider this an open tag to anyone who wants to do it (but @ me I'm so nosy and want to read the responses)

#thanks for tagging me ky <3 #tag games #reiverwrites

[genericswordsmaiden]

summer reading/writing/arting tag

Tagged by @inkysqueed (thank you so much, fellow Jumpluff and Oblivion enjoyer!)

1) Describe one creative WIP you plan on working on over the summer.

Of course, even though I have many ideas in mind (a one piece/crossover fic, an oblivion fanfic and a story about an AU me and my friend @zombinafonfrankenstein came up with) I'm going to continue writing Dark! I'm giving it my all because my goal is to publish it and see it on shelves!!! But for now the english version is available on ao3 (it is updated a bit irregularly because of life and other stuff, but some friends said that it's good nonetheless)

A description of it? Magic amnesiac guy and friends travel across the Afterlife to retrieve books and save the universe from some kind of eldritch creature. It sounds like pure crack and in some way it is. It's also brutal.

2) Recommend a book!

Oh, this is a tough one! But if y'all haven't done it yet, go read The Book Thief. That story changed my life, and it made me cry so much. I loved Liesel and Max's friendship, and also Rudy... He was best boy. And Hans deserves the title of best father ever. Oh god I'm crying again, it's been years since I last read it and it's still a fresh wound! A masterpiece.

3) Recommend a fic!

Another tough one, since there's so many fics I'd like to share! I can't name less than five though, because I absolutely adore them and I wish people of the respective fandoms would read them. Sorry.

Honor bound by penwarrior11 (The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion) (this one is part of a series and it is the first fic of it. It follows the story of the game alright, but I love the scenes with Mara and Martin, and also Baurus. A precious little gem.)

Everything by nonman (Half Life: Alyx) (this one began in 2021 and proceeded slowly, as of now I'm waiting for the last chapter but guys, it is great! It gives continuation of the cliffhanger at the end of HL:A and it is written masterfully)

No more dreaming of the dead by @mina-murray-harker (Re-Animator 1985) (I love the style of this one, safe and disturbing and full of movie and music references. I think the Re-Animator fandom would love it to bits just as yours truly does)

Candlelight by @clichejoe (Encanto) (this is still my comfort fic and it is very beautiful, colorful - and the main character is the most lovable oddball researcher ever)

The fear of the ocean by FishingLure (JoJo's bizarre adventure) (this one emotionally scarred me - it's been two years and I still haven't recovered)

4) Recommend music!

Pat Metheny Group's discography. But also Seventeen's discography... No, I have to choose a single song. I must choose a single song or else I'll be here all night! Alright, here we go: Haru No Maboroshi by Superfly. It sounds like a sunset. I used to listen to it when I ended uni lessons late in the afternoon, it gives me a comforting feeling and restores my spirit a bit.

5) Share one piece of advice!

Hmmm, I'd say to never forget yourself. Other people may leave, but yourself is the only one who will never leave you. Some people might see this as insensitive wording, but I truly mean this with all my heart. There's time to be spent in introspection, there's love to be found in ourselves, for ourselves. There's a certain kind of healing that can only occur when you are with yourself. Also, to everyone reading this, regardless of shape color gender and preferences regarding tea - tell people who are dear to you how much you love them and hug them. Spread good stuff, hugs are the best drug - and they're free!!

Tagging @koumeowkami and @stardusteyes and also the other beautiful people I already tagged are totally free to copy this and post their own answers!

#tag stuff #<3 #the chaos trilogy : dark #the elder scrolls #oblivion #half life alyx #reanimator #bride of reanimator #encanto #jojo's bizarre adventure #fanfic reccomendation

[oh-theatre]

Objection!: Chapter 31

Chapter title: Soon

A/n: Stands awkwardly. Hi! Okay so, i know its been two years since the previous chapter and I honestly did not think I would be writing a new one. But this story deserves an ending so I do intend to finish it to all those still out there who read it. So whoever is still here, thank you and I hope you enjoy the chapter <3

First | Previous | Next

words: 1511

summary: Pattons finally recovering, where does everyone go from here?

pairings: Logicality, Prinxiety, platonic Demus, romantic Remile

warnings: Hospital mention, Courthouse/Law mentions

Ao3 Link  

“I'm cleared!” Patton announces, a tired whoop from the crowded room makes him giggle. Logan grunts in approval, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple. “I get to go home” He explains quietly to the sleeping twins resting on his bed, his fingers carding through their hair.

“And while we’re all ela-” Roman pauses, yawning “-ted, it's far too early” Virgil nods, looking sadly at his now empty cup of coffee. 

“He should be able to be checked out around noon today, we want to go over some home care, medicines he’ll need to be taking…” Patton nods along, not sure where the doctor's instructions fell out of tune but Roman was right it really was too early. Once she had finished, given an extra copy of instructions to Logan and taken her leave, the two made their way out.

“Work and stuff” Virgil had, oh so kindly explained, taking his leave with Roman sleepily guiding him the right way. The lawyer couldn't help but smile, glad his friends finally put the puzzle pieces back together. 

“Hmm” Logan hummed next to him, “I'll be back around noon to pick you up, Emile and Remy have agreed to take the kids for a bit so you'll only have to worry about rest” He explained through his own suppressed yawn. Patton flashes a grateful smile to the detective and his partner, receiving two thumbs up from Remy. He watches as the couple gently lift the sleeping children, waving t​​hem off. “And while I love you” Logan continued “I have work to get to” 

“Aw shucks, you sure you dont wanna hang out with me and my Friends reruns?” Patton teases, Logan lips turn up slightly, signs of an amused smile. “Go, be a lawyer, I'll see you at noon” He assures, tugging the taller down only a bit to plant a kiss.

“Noon then” He confirms before joining the others and leaving Patton alone once more. 

“Finally” he stretches. Don't get him wrong, he loved his friends, he loved Logan, his kids. But finally, eyes weren't constantly watching him, he could breathe. He only hoped this refreshing feeling continued at home. He was finally feeling like himself again, his fingers itching to be back in the courthouse, standing in front of a judge fighting for something, for someone. “George!” He exclaims to himself, rushing for his phone on his nightstand. He practically punches in the number. “George” He smiles, the other line connects instantly. He hears apologetic rambles at first listening as they turn into worries for the lawyer then a burning anger of vengeance. Christ, Patton could barely get a word in. “Ge-” He tries, cant blame him for not being heard over what he thinks is the man shouting at the tv for…existing? He can't help but laugh, shaking his head. “George,” He states firmly, finally receiving silence. He knows, knows you should never judge solely by a cover. Any man can fake who they are, any person can smile while hiding a sinister secret. But Patton couldn't help it, this man wasn't capable of what he'd been accused of.  “I'd love to meet up” 

~~~ “Too early” Virgil complains again, “Early early early” He shakes in defiance. Roman finishes checking himself and his guest into the courthouse, wrapping up a polite conversation with Jenny. 

“Honey” He begins, Virgil's soft “Early”s continuing “Ho-ney” he enunciates, taking his partner's hand. “Coffee?” He offers, allowing himself to ignore just how many the detective had already consumed. Suddenly, like magic, Virgil brightens. Or, as much as he could. After all, he needed some coffee in him. “Come along then, my treat”

“Well I'd sure hope so” the shorter quips, nudging Roman.

“You are spoiled” he decides, lifting up Virgil's hand to kiss it sweetly, regardless of his words.

“Blasphemy, I am so unspoiled, in fact i a-” And before Virgil can continue whatever tangent he planned, Roman saves himself and his ears, he kisses his partner swallowing up whatever words he had. “Cheater” “Work smarter, not harder” Roman grins. And even with Virgil's mumbles of rejection, he was smiling. 

“Is that what you teach my kid when you babysit?” Virgil sighs, though his disappointment is only an act. 

“Absolutely!” Roman nods, his smile wider than ever. “I tell him, I say ‘Damian. Listen, when you're in math class, simply use a calculator’ and oh does he smile” 

“Oh my god, you're a terrible influence” Virgil laughs, feeling his chest bubble with warmth. “He needs to learn how to do math without the calculator” “Virgil” Roman turns, taking the detective's face in his hands. “Mi amor” He starts, Virgil rolls his eyes covering his obvious blush. “When, literally when, will he ever have to do math where a calculator is not available” Romans eyes are stern.

“That's so not the point, it's good for him to have the skill” Virgil rebuts

“The answer is never! Never is he going to be an adult, doing math that requires a calculator, where a calculator is not available” He turns back to the path, stopping by the coffee stand, ordering two cups. 

“You're impossible” Virgil whispers, with absolutely zero malicious intent, watching his breath in the cold air. He joins the judges side, thanking him for the coffee. 

Strolling the courthouse, both fully aware there was no destination, made him happy. Being by Romans side, even in silence, made him happy.

Virgil was happy. 

The guilt washed away with ease. Every ounce that had been shoving him to his knees, grinding them to pieces, let him go. Patton was okay, he was going home, safe. Liam hadn't bothered the group since Logan put him in his place. Remy and him had been forgiven, by both Patton and Logan. James, may he rot, was in jail. And Roman was his. All his to love for however long he was permitted to, a small- no, a big part hoped it was forever. At this bright hour of 8:05 AM, Virgil allowed himself this moment of self indulgence. This moment to be selfish, coffee in one hand, Roman in the other.

He was happy. 

~~~

“I am not happy, Tolentino” Heard, processed, and instantly forgotten. Logan's head was killing him, the last thing he needed was a scolding and running on no coffee as well. “I think we need to have a discussion about your recent work ethic”

“Mhm” Logan was barely listening, honestly, his mind was nowhere at the moment. His boss could be firing him from the firm, but he was far too tired to care. After another lecture, Logan was dismissed, giving him ample opportunity to find the nearest coffee booth and consume all of it. 

He had been skeptical of the firm working out of the courthouse at first. Lawyers coming in and out, cases he wasn't on though dying to participate happening just next door, the judges bothering him, it had a recipe for disaster written all over it. But it ended up being perfect. It was exactly the place he wanted to work at. If his stuffy office ever got too much, just a quick stroll and he could find himself in the courtyard, listening to the steady fountain flow. 

It was perfect.

Plus, this is where he met Patton. Fell in love with him, proposed to him, and watched him everyday.

That wasn't so bad. 

He smiled, lifting the coffee to his lips, sipping carefully at the hot beverage. One could argue the worst things also happened here, and they wouldn't be wrong. But the good for Logan, far outweighed the bad. The love of his life walked these halls everyday, lighting up his path as he smiled. Hm, he thought to himself, he should call Patton. He missed his fiancee, and noon was so far away.

“Patton Hart!” A familiar yet welcome warmth creeped on Logan.

“Whos taking whos last name” Well. That was definitely not how he wanted to start the conversation. 

“Well,” Patton thought for a moment, considering Logan's question with sincerity. “Patton Tolentino”

Oh

Logan would blame the red tint of his cheeks on the cold air. 

“Its not bad…but I like my last name!” Patton chirps, Logan nods, covering his mouth “And it's the kids last name” It is, Logan's mind was gone once more. Patton Tolentino, Patton Tolentino, the name ran through his mind. “Lo?”

“Present” A soft giggle resonated through the phone “Logan Hart” He repeats, it felt odd falling off his tongue at first. “Loooogan Hart” He tried once more, it wasn't bad. However, could such a sweet name, filled with adoration, suit him. With his mind busy, he hadn't noticed the other line had gone quiet. “Honeybee?” He inquires softly

“Can't we just get married already” Had he not been listening so intently, Logan would have missed the whisper of desperation. 

“What about combining them?” He proposes. A laugh rings through, approving the idea. They continue an idle conversation, but Patton's question continues to play over and over in his mind.

Soon.

Soon, I promise. 

#objection au #sanders sides #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #logicality #prinxiety #remile #demus #remus sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #youtube #remy sanders #emile picani #write #writing #ao3 #archive of our own