#IT TOOK ME HOW MANY MONTHS

[illegallyexisting]

First Visit

(To the Geiermann Asylum)

This was an incredibly long project that i started sometime in the midst of January. I hope you all enjoy!!

Sweet, sweet word count: 8,111

The air was strikingly cold with dead trees lining the perimeters of the asylum; in bold gothic letters the front read “The Geiermann Asylum.” The building loomed over them, watching as they walked towards it. The bricks were old and worn with vines and plants entangling them, two large, dark wood doors adorned the top of the crooked steps.

The man that was touring (is that the right word?) them finally broke the silence, “I don’t think this place was touched in a long, long time. My dad just entrusted me to the place, said he got it from an old friend of his and that she wanted to make sure that it would be in safe hands.” They all made it up the creaking stairs and the man opened the door for us; Elliot – a newly adult with a slender build and pumpkin themed sweater on – was first to peak their head through.

“It's very... Dark. And even colder in here then out there!” Her voice echoed slightly from inside the asylum.

“Well, the lights aren’t even on in there yet, though I don’t even know if those work anymore, last they were changed was probably in the ‘60s...” The man gave them a polite smile and ushered them all inside. Inside the asylum was, well, cold, but particularly massive. In front there was a long hallway stretching for who knows how long, on their left was a regular wall with what was a torn-up photo (or perhaps a painting) and table sitting underneath it with a wilted vase of flowers on top. As they walked in further, it was apparent that leading upstairs was a dilapidated staircase on their right, and next to it a staircase leading to another abyss. The man turned on the lights and they came flickering to life, very dimly to say the least.

“I don’t think there's anything else to mention, you’se can all just look around, I’ll be outside walking if you need me.” He gave them another polite smile and left the asylum. Everyone went to their little corners of the entrance way, Vixen to a nearby couch slightly covered by cobwebs, Elliott to the mysterious staircases, Jesse looking at the different paintings and photos (about all of them horribly damaged by time), and Laysha was taking in the entire abandoned asylum. She looked all around, hopping from place to place seeing what her friends were doing, studying all of the entry room. As she was doing so, thoughts popped into her mind, “Who were the people here?” “What were they like?” “What were they here for?” but her thoughts were interrupted.

“Hey, you alright?” It was just Jesse standing next to her now.

“Oh, yes, yes. Say, what if we looked around some more? Obviously, the place is huge, so what if we split into groups of two? We could cover more ground,” She turned around looking at the rest of her friends, “And call each other if anything happens!” Laysha smiled, clapping her hands together thrice to get Vixen and Elliott’s attention. They lifted their heads up from where they were standing (and sitting).

“Alright, so, here’s how this is gonna go. Jesse and Vixen, you two go together and explore the upstairs and me and Elliott will explore down here. Any questions? No, good!” Laysha gave the group a beaming smile as the others left and beckoned Elliott to come to her.

“So, where exactly do we go now? I mean we could go in that weird basement thing-” And Laysha immediately interjected.

“What about just down the hallway and search there? I don’t want to go down there yet, and plus I said that we were gonna explore here.” Elliott tilted his head, but sighed and gave her a reassuring look.

“Alright fine, you lead the way then!”

Laysha laughed and began walking down the hallway, looking at everything in awe. Elliott followed in pursuit, looking around with her. The walls were littered with cobwebs and pictures hung up on the walls, along with the occasional shelf of books or years dead plants. Eventually, they made their way to what seemed to be another corridor but filled with rooms upon rooms, each with small windows – barely enough room to stick your head through – on the sides of the doors and on them. Some doors were open, some stayed shut, as with some of the windows being destroyed. They were both looking down at each side of the hallway with simultaneous confusion and awe, until something caught Elliott’s eye. It seemed to be coming from an open door some ways off, and it looked like someone was staring straight back at him. He squinted his eyes, but just as he noticed the supposed person, they went straight back into the room. He took a few steps back until they accidentally bumped into Laysha.

“Woah, everything all right?”

“I- Well- No. Look, I’m, fairly sure I saw someone, they had like- Shoulder length black hair and they were completely like-” Elliott continued to stumble his way through his words, confusing Laysha that such a person like them could even be stammering this much.

“Alright, just calm down! Maybe it was just a trick of the light? Aren’t you needing to get new glasses soon, too, right?”

He started to calm down, lowering his voice, “Right, you’re right. Trick of the light, or eyes, or something.” They both chuckled lightly and continued as Elliott tried to shake off what he might have seen. Laysha went down the left side of the hallway and Elliott went down the right side, albeit nervous. As Laysha went forward, she looked inside every nook and cranny of the doors, seeing what was in them and what was left there. Practically every room held nothing but multiple, horrifically dirtied bunk beds, the occasional glass on the floor, and spider webs everywhere. There appeared to be nothing more than just the same thing over and over, stretching on for God knows how long. On the right side of the hallway was Elliott, doing the same as Laysha, but looking more carefully and wondering if what they saw wasn’t a trick of the eyes. What if it was someone else? What if it isn’t just the four of them in the asylum? Was it a bad idea? They are already in the asylum, too late to back out now.

Meanwhile, Vixen and Jesse were doing the exact same thing, looking through the rooms. Although eventually they had found a rubber room, it was less a bright white room and more so a grayed and deadened space.

Jesse spoke, making Vixen jump, “You would guess that there would be more, I dunno, things here?”

“Well, these are just normal rooms you would see at a place like this,” They both exited the room, “You think we’re looking in the wrong place?”

“Could be, I guess we’ll have to walk around more and see!” Jesse smiled, giving Vixen a vague sense of reassurance. Jesse started to walk off in another direction, but Vixen stayed back just for a few seconds. He spun and looked around, down the hallways, through other rooms. Then he had a strange feeling, like he was being looked at, stalked. He noticed a slight bluish, colored glow, his mind went on full speed, and he hurled around behind him to see where it was coming from, catching a glimpse of what looked like an eye, but as he turned it was too late. The light disappeared. He shrieked, and immediately ran back over to Jesse, promptly pretending that nothing had happened, but Jesse turned towards Vixen with a mix of confusion and shock on his face.

“Did you just scream?” But he was cut off by Vixen.

“There was something watching me.” Vixen’s voice quiet and he looked petrified, eyes wide and arms close to his body.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, Jesse! I saw some weird light and I turned around, and then it was gone!”

Jesse stopped and fully turned to Vixen, grabbing him by the shoulders.

“Look, it was probably just the sun casting by,” Jesse was cut off again.

“Listen to me, it was blue! There is something here with us,” Vixen wasn’t as scared anymore, but now annoyed that his friend won’t listen to him. His voice became more strained, “I don’t know what it was, but I know there was definitely something!”

“Alright, alright, I believe you, just stick close to me for now.” He took his hands off Vixen’s shoulders and nodded his head to follow, and Vixen followed suit.

Downstairs, Laysha, and Elliott found their way out of the twisting hallways and back somewhere near the main entrance. Elliott had gone over to what seemed to be a storage room, investigating whatever could be in there. Laysha had wandered down another, shorter hallway with only a few paintings and photographs lining the left side of the wall and on the right was a dark, wooden door. There was nothing too intriguing about it, but it drew Laysha in; another place to explore! She walked towards the door in effortless steps and opened it up.

Inside the room was an old, dusty wood desk with a chair slid into it- An office, perhaps? The walls were a deep maroon with entirely black floorboards. To the sides of the centered desk were two bookshelves, both partially filled with varying books. On the back wall was a window covered with curtains and underneath it was two strange, square objects both covered in a white sheet. Laysha fully walked in and was hit with a strange aroma, an odd smell of iron. She realized that on the desk layer a large book and she went over to investigate. Opening it up to a random page near the end, she soon discovered that it was all full of names; names of the patients and their reasons for stay. The names read as Ruby Di Amore, Ethel Wisconsin, Sherwood Sappington, Oscar Quinlan, Edwin Forester, Dorothy Falk… The list seemed to stretch on and on. The book seemed to hold upon hundreds of pages as she flipped through, skimming through the names of all these people, at a certain point the names had stopped being written down with the last name being recorded in 1922. She started reading before the last date, but a strange presence irked her, something that told her to look around, be more alert, but she continued and carefully read the names.

Elliott had searched around the storage room but found nothing of interest. Most of the boxes were full of old clothes or straightjackets, trinkets, and other odds, destroyed paintings beyond repair. So, he exited the room in a huff, slightly let down by the unexcited boxes. Instead, they decided to put their focus on the stairways and started towards them. Obviously, there was no way that they could walk up the dilapidated staircase, so why not downwards? He took one look and was met with a curious darkness staring right back at her. She took a deep breath and prepared herself, then took the plunge and started their walk down.

The stairway was long and did not seem to get much brighter, but eventually Elliott made his way to the bottom. He was met with not a destroyed, old basement, but what seemed to be a recreated speakeasy bar, decorated with nice warm colors. A bar was on the left, all stocked with alcoholic beverages and glasses and on the right were booths, accompanied by tables situated throughout the makeshift speakeasy. He took a closer look and led himself through.

Laysha was still listing off names from the patient book. Soaking in all their names, histories, and entries. It was about 2 pages back that she decided to stop and remembered her surroundings. The iron smell, the dull room. She sighed, standing up and scooting out of the chair, only to bump right into someone. She yelped, apologizing, before standing back and looking at the person in front of her.

Who she was met with was a man fully decked in red towering over her. Against his greying hair, he was wearing a stark top hat – almost reaching the ceiling in height – and a frock coat littered with stitched up patterns across his stomach. A silver pocket watch shined against his dark red pants, but Laysha was quickly drawn back up to his face; an annoyed look turned to anger.

“About time,” His deep voice bellowed across the room – what seemed like wisps coming up from his shoulders alighting his face, “What you think you are doing here and why are you here?” The man had a thick French accent, although that should not matter to her right now, she was entirely impressed.

“Oh, me and my friends were just- Uhm, looking around here,” Laysha stumbled over her words, giving out a nervous smile and slowly scooted away from the man before having a late realization, “Wait are you-”

“Friends? There are more?” He watched her carefully as she moved away, charily inspecting her movements.

“Well, yes, there is. There’s four of us, I don’t know where the rest of them are, sir,” She stopped in front of the left bookshelf, glancing around before holding her hand out for a handshake, “I’m Laysha, and you?” She kept her voice as calm and approachable as she could. All he did was turn, look down at her hand, then back up at her, raising a brow.

“Dr. Geiermann,” He rubbed his face and sighed. He glanced around the room in thought, wondering what move to make next, “I cannot bother doing this, I will let Vincent find the rest of you...” He bowed his head whilst mumbling words underneath his breath, before walking forward and disappearing into the wall. Laysha stood there in complete shock. Did she witness a ghost for herself? An actual dead person, standing in front of her? I mean there was no doubt about it, he looked human, but his eyes were black and hollow save for two pink pupils in the middle. And the wisps coming off his shoulders! He was dressed in what could it have been- the Victorian era at least. He did not seem happy to see her at all, or to hear that her friends came along with her, but his name... Dr. Geiermann! Of all the people, could she have just met the past owner?

Back downstairs, Elliott was still in awe. Looking around and studying the place.

He thought aloud, “But how could this even be here? It couldn’t be that old, half of this stuff is new...”

They looked behind the bar and picked up a bottle of whiskey, checking everywhere on it to see if he could find a date. After turning it around quite a few times, she managed to find a due date on the back of it.

January 30th, 2021, that's only a few days away.

Thinking aloud again, she spoke, “Now who in God’s name would have a place like this underneath an asylum of all things and even keep it stocked!”

“Well, well, can’t a few ghosts have a good time as well?” The voice appeared behind her, giggling as she stood completely frozen. A bluish light materialized from behind, complimented with reds and purples. Elliott slowly turned to face the mysterious voice, the liquid quaking in her grasp.

“What, a little chicken-hearted?” She fully turned around, now in front of them was a half-faced man. A grin was spread across his face, his pupils large and glowing behind his red tinted glasses.

Holding his hand out to shake, he spoke once more, “Hello.”

Back up in the second story, Vixen and Jesse stuck close to each other. The grey light shined through the cracked and broken windows of the asylum, lightening the already dim glow of the lightbulbs. Across both hallways, were the same rooms, repeatedly. Holding the same things; bunkbeds, dirtied floors, chipped off walls, and cobwebs. Despite this, they thought that if they still peaked in, there would be something different. Maybe not. At a certain point, the hallway broke off into two once more.

“Do you think it would be worth going down there?” Jesse questioned as he turned his head to his friend.

Vixen tilted his head, shifted a bit then responded in a wary tone, “No, I don’t think it would be worth it. What's to say that it isn’t the same thing again like the time before,”

“True, true.” Jesse responded, but something diverted their attention. In the corner of their eye, they saw a shadow walk by and what sounded like insults being thrown each and every way.

‘Idiot.’

‘Could not bother to stay put.’

‘But he is always like that, isn’t it?’

They kept going until the man passed their view and Jesse went chasing after the man. By the time Vixen even registered what had happened, Jesse turned the corner and was gone.

When Jesse turned, there was no one there, the man was completely gone. He couldn’t hear the person anymore, like he had vanished out of thin air. Vixen came running back up to him, startled and out of breath.

“Jesse, what do you think you’re doing?” He was huffing, trying to catch his breath.

“I was trying to see who that was,”

“Let me guess, they weren’t there anymore?”

“No, they weren’t. All I could make out is that he might have been wearing some sort of, I don’t know, top hat?”

Vixen’s eyes widened and he started to tug on Jesse’s shirt, visibly shaken, “Come on, Jesse, there’s clearly other people here and I don’t know if we should be staying any longer. I swear, there was someone watching me before, and I don’t want to experience that again!”

“Well, what’s to say that the others didn’t see anything, too? Maybe Laysha saw something or someone – this is more her specialty.”

As soon as Jesse finished speaking, both heard a yelp from downstairs. They both looked at each other before agreeing in silence to rush down to see what had happened.

It didn’t take long for them to arrive at the first story, and they were met with Elliott, looking entirely disheveled.

Jesse ran up to her, desperately inquiring, “What in the world happened down there, are you okay?”

Elliott took a step back, catching herself and looking at her friend confused, “You only just heard me?”

“What do you mean, were you yelling beforehand?”

“Of course I was! There was this, like, blue light behind me and then someone said something, and I turned around and he was inches away from my face!”

“Alright well who was this he?”

“Why do you think I know?”

“I don’t know, describe him then!”

“He was all in fancy clothes, top hat and all; he even had a cane! I think he was wearing some type of tailcoat?” She paused to catch her breath, trying to run her mind back up to speed with the rest of her body.

Vixen crossed his arms – more so hugging himself, “Great, completely great, this place is actually haunted! What are we supposed to do now?”

Jesse huffed, upset at Vixen’s remark, “We just wait for Laysha, Elliott where exactly is she?”

“I’m fairly sure she went to the office last I was with her,”

“What do you mean ‘last I was with her?”

“Well, we split up to cover more ground on the first floor, but I am fairly certain she did go there. Do we go get her, or?”

“Unless she comes to us herself, we’ll go and find her then.”

Back in the office with Laysha, she was still reeling from her encounter with an actual ghost! How cool is that? She was already tapping away on her phone, writing down what the man looked like and what she thought of him, so she remembered. Now she has to tell her friends. Quickly putting her phone back in her pocket, she rushed outside of the office. She booked it outside only to meet right with her friends, waiting for her. They all looked different degrees of shocked.

She tilted her head, confused, “Did something happen, what’s wrong?”

Jesse was the first to tell her, “Look, all of us are pretty sure this place is haunted, me and Vixen saw some guy walking down the hallway, along with something glowing, watching Vixen, and Jesse had someone right up to their face!”

“Oh, yeah, it is,” She gave Jesse a wide smile, “You just realized that?”

“What do you mean? Did you know that beforehand?”

“Well, not really,” she crossed her arm, holding up her hand to her chin, “I came across one when I was in that office. So, you found more?”

“Yes, we found more!” He was more aggressive in his tone now, very much upset about the fact that she didn’t tell any of that to him sooner.

“Sweet! Where are they?”

“We don’t know, they’re all gone now,” Jesse put his hands on his hip, “How would you suggest we find them? Seems like they’re all spread out around this maze of a place,” He appeared to be more levelheaded now, softening his voice.

Laysha made a quiet “Hm” sound, “What if we just go searching from where they came from? Didn’t Elliott say that they came from the speakeasy, did you respond to the ghost in any way, or did you just run?”

Elliott promptly piped up, “No, I just ran,” He clasped his hands and shuffled in his spot a little bit, “The guy seemed creepy either way.”

Laysha had a bright, encouraging smile on her face, “Well then maybe he’s still there, I say we go check.”

Without giving any of her friends a choice, she hastily made her way down the winding hallways all the way to the makeshift speakeasy.

The entrance to the speakeasy was as dark as ever; like it was sucking in the surrounding light for itself. Laysha swiftly made her way down the stairs, intaking every little detail (about as much as her eyes could let her). The oldened floorboards creaked beneath her shoes until she finally made it down. As she stepped down, she immediately went in a sprint to look for the supposed ghost. She booked it straight towards the bar, looking down behind it but alas, found nothing. Rapidly jumping up and over from the bar, she looked past the nearby corner of the room, but there was still nothing in sight. The entire speakeasy was flat and open and there were no ghosts to be seen.

Laysha sighed and moped to the center of the room, “Well, so much for that.”

“Well, I wouldn’t give up so easily now!”

She jumped and instantly turned around, abruptly met with a man smiling only mere inches from her face. As she turned away, he floated backwards and held his hand out to shake. Laysha shook it and promptly had a horrible, painfully cold sensation going up through her hand and into her arm.

“Hello, hello! The name’s Vincent, Dr. Vincent Geiermann and you are?” He rapidly shook her hand up and down, not even letting go for just a second.

She barely understood what he was saying, sounding like a slur of vowels and breaths strung together and barely pronounced consonants. Laysha quickly pieced together that he was asking what her name is.

Talking with a steady voice, she responded, “Oh, my name is Laysha, Laysha Boyer. Those are my, uh, friends over there.” She gestured with her head and saw Elliott giving her a disapproving shake of the head.

With an unnatural turn of the neck, the doctor stared at her friends with an even wider half-faced grin. They all stared at Dr. Vincent with large eyes. The man was dressed from head to toe in shades of blue and green; save for his circular, bright red glasses and a top hat taking up most of his height. His tailcoat was spread out as he floated, and underneath it seemed to be a tie and a green button-up. Most notable of all was the mask covering the left side of his face.

He floated over to the group, kicking his feet and giggling. Scanning over the group, his cyan pupil began to widen.

“Say, what exactly brought you’se four here?” He turned upside down and proceeded to float over them, “Its a rarity to see anyone that's here and not around to mess up the place or whatnot; but you’se seem like a good bunch!”

The ghost chuckled after finishing his sentence and the group all took turns glancing and nervously looking at each other. Suddenly, he flipped back upwards and twirled his cane, setting it right back on the ground. His legs continued to float as he rested his arms on the cane.

Jesse was the one to pipe up first, “Well, the gist is that we kind of... Hunt ghosts? And we were here to see if there were any to, uh...” He trailed off, still baffled about everything that is occurring.

Elliott finished for him, “We were coming to see if we could buy it and use it as a haunted place attraction.” She was completely unmoving from her spot, letting her monotone voice do all the work. Dr. Vincents eye widened as his smile managed to creep up through his face.

He let out a sinister laugh before responding, “Oh, how lovely, lovely! Also, also, did you happen to see any other ghosts on your little tour?” Dr. Vincent seemed entirely unphased by the whole “buying the asylum” bit and instead indulged in his own conversation.

“I found a ghost in the office-” Laysha was cut off in an instant by the ghost.

“Oh, that was my father, don’t worry about him!” He giggled and joked, not having a care in the world (I guess you wouldn’t if you’d been on Earth for that long).

Vixen made a small gasping noise before questioning, “Wait so you are-”

Dr. Vincent cut him off immediately; already knowing the question and answer, “Yes, yes, second – and last, heir to the throne of the asylum! I thought, I thought I gave it away with the whole introducing myself as doctor and Geiermann, not the brightest of the bunch, eh?”

“Well, I-”

“Don’t worry, don’t worry,” He appeared over to Vixen in less than a second, “You even lose a bit of that smartness when you’ve been staring at the daisy roots for how long!” He laughed and leaned his head on Vixen’s shoulder until the boy rapidly stammered away from the ghost. Dr. Vincent promptly reappeared back to his original standing point and continued their little conversation.

“So, you’se were saying about possibly buying the place; turn it into those haunted house ‘tractions, yeah? How much we talking here?” Not being able to stay still, he started floating and roaming around the group; making zig zags between them. Patiently (or not so) waiting for a response.

Laysha started walking towards her friends, watching the ghost drift mesmerizingly above, “Well, I think- I guess it would depend on how much you would like it to be.”

She returned to her friend group, but Elliott leaned in and asked her, “Do you not think it would matter more if we asked the guy that owns the place?”

“Well, considering that there are also other people that live here, I think we should ask them too!”

Elliott sighed, not wishing to pursue the conversation, so he let Laysha and Dr. Vincent continue with their bargaining.

She crossed her arms, “Exactly how old is this place?”

The ghost paused, tapping the bottom of his chin with a quizzical look, and making a ‘Hm’ sound. Without warning, a large puff of red smoke appeared right next to Dr. Vincent. As it dissipated, a figure took form and revealed that it was the same ghost from the office; Dr. Geiermann himself.

He spoke in a low, annoyed voice, “One hundred and thirty-seven years old. I thought you would do better, Vincent,” He turned to the group and raised a brow, “You are the others I presume?”

Vincent answered right away for them, “Yes, yes, they’re visitors, visitors!”

“Trespassers, imbécile,” He shot his head over to his son and frowned, “You are seriously giving the asylum away to children?”

Laysha argued, “We are not children! We have a whole job to do, that’s why we want to buy this asylum in the first place!”

“I do not want this place to be the next dernier cri, so do not bother-”

Vincent rapidly flew over to Laysha and held his hand out with a malicious smile, “How does 5 grand sound?”

Dr. Geiermann sputtered and stammered for a second before gathering himself together, but by that time Laysha had made her choice.

“It’s a deal.” She shook his hand and started giggling as his smile grew, unnaturally stretching up to his eye.

“And how! So wonderful, wonderful!”

“No, Vincent, not wonderful,” Dr. Geiermann grabbed his son by the shoulders, moving him away from Laysha. Vincent stared up at his dad with a confused and frankly annoyed expression, “You do know what you are doing, right? You are seriously giving it away that easily? You did not even think!”

“First of all, I thought it all the way through.”

“En cinq secondes, sérieusement?”

“Yes, I know, shocking. I think it would be nice to have more visitors, wouldn’t you say?”

Dr. Geiermann sighed and rolled his eyes, exhausted, “Tu me donnes mal à la tête...”

Vixen leaned into Laysha and whispered to her, “What is he saying?”

“I have no clue,” She replied in a similar subtle tone.

Vincent exclaimed once more as he whipped his head around to the group; his pupils a wide blue, “We have come to an agreement!”

Dr. Geiermann chipped in an immediate, “No we did not,” he scooted his son away and stiffly approached the friends. He stopped just in front of them, staring them down; he finally replied, “If you go through with buying this place, I have rules. You touch not a thing, you change nothing, you add nothing; is this go to be a paid tour?”

Laysha panicked for a moment before responding, “Oh, uh, yes?”

“Then you can put a box next the front entrance. That will be the only thing you add. You will add caution tape to the front of the stairs,” he walked over to the end of the staircase and pointed to the top of it, leading back to the main hall, “None of us want anyone else down here. You tell people, stay together, no one go to upstairs near the main entrance. Only the first and second floors. Do you understand?”

Laysha shook her head in slight confusion, but he had a point, it was his asylum after all, “Alright, we’ll follow your rules.”

Vincent responded an unnecessary and drawn out, “Boring,” he made a yawning motion with his hand. His father shot him a sharp glare, narrowing his eyes, but Vincent did not seem to care nor notice, “So many rules,” He tilted his head backwards to where his father was standing, “You’re a real pill, you know that?”

“And you think of yourself as better?” Dr. Geiermann started walking his way back to the group, looking down at his son, “You were about to let them do qui sait quoi!”

“Oh, boohoo, at least it would’ve brightened the place up a bit,” He stuck his tongue out nonchalantly, “But I’m guessing you wouldn’t want that, eh?” He started giggling at his own joke.

His father rolled his eyes, but took his attention back to the friend group, “So, you understand what you can and cannot do?”

Laysha nodded, “Yes, we do,” she glanced over to her friends with a desperate look in her eyes. The group nodded with murmurs of yes’s and yeah’s.

Dr. Vincent swiftly turned his head up and in an unnatural pattern, he swiftly floated over back to Laysha and shook her hand once more.

“Another deal then!” He rapidly shook her hand up and down before moving onto the rest of the friend group. The ghost swapped his hands, turning them over on one another, almost looking like a pretzel in comparison. Vixen had jumped back slightly at the sheer freezing cold of Dr. Vincent’s hand. Elliott and Jesse just nodded and shook, exchanging distressed looks to each other.

He finally let go, sparing everyone of a frostbitten hand. The ghost ascended upwards, suddenly stopping just before the ceiling and he looked down at the newfound owners in an aplomb pose. Dr. Geiermann watched his son with skepticism and uncertainty.

“So, any more questions or anything for me at all?” Dr. Vincent smiled as he scanned the group. He checked their mannerisms, any minute details. The way they looked; the way they stared in absolute awestruck.

Seemingly with no questions asked, he was just about to continue until Vixen impulsively asked, “What’s with the half a mask?”

The ghost snapped his attention abnormally over to the young man, his smile unwavering. He immediately flitted down to him, only mere inches away from his face, close enough to feel the icy chill. Then he spoke, “Wouldn’t you like to know,” Vixen was astonished and creeped out, the color seemingly draining from his face. His lips quaked, but all the ghost did was chuckle at his sheer fear until it turned into a boisterous laugh, swinging his arm around Vixen, “Oh, I’m just messing with ya!” Dr. Vincent took his arm away from Vixen, still continuing his giggling spree.

Dr. Geiermann looked at his son, his pupils visibly only a slit now, and turned to Vixen, “This is what you will deal with now,” Vixen nodded slowly while giving out a nervous chuckle.

Laysha had been in thought for quite some time, and decided, “If you have rules, then I have some as well,”

“For my own asylum?”

“Yes, actually. First of all, don’t interfere much,” She got cut off in an instant.

“Again, in my own asylum?” The ghost took a menacing step forward, narrowing his eyes.

Laysha confidently continued, “Let me finish, do not interfere much while we are working. Like doing tours and stuff.”

Dr. Vincent floated over to his father with his arms drooping downwards, seemingly sliding over to him without a single real movement, “Didn’t you say that the whole deal of buying this place was to turn into a, y’know, haunted tour?”

“I mean, yes, obviously, then there would be no fun! But just maybe keep the whole...” Laysha trailed off, trying to think of the correct words to use to not make anyone upset, “Everything to a minimum.”

“By everything do you mean him?” Dr. Geiermann nodded his head towards his son, and he seemed entirely unfazed about the fact they were now talking about him. He was just fiddling with his gloves.

Laysha nodded slowly in agreement, “Yes, and whoever else is here in the asylum, like the past patients, I’m assuming.”

“I saw someone staring me down in one of the hallways thirty or so minutes ago,” Elliott piped up from the midst of the group, walking forward slightly, “Was that one of them or?”

The ghosts both promptly answered, “Ruth,” Dr. Vincent snapped his head up and Dr. Geiermann stood taut as he stared at Elliott. Dr. Geiermann spoke normally, “Do not worry about her, she just likes staring on occasion.”

“Not like she can do much either way with how balled up she normally is!” Dr. Vincent started to shake in laughter, nudging his dad by the side with his elbow to see if he thought his, quite frankly, mean-spirited joke was. All Dr. Geiermann did was look down at him, and stare at him with completely dead eyes and no sign nor even a flinch of joy within this man.

“Well alright then,” Dr. Vincent rolled his eyes and gave out a dramatic sigh.

Laysha continued her list of rules, ignoring (well doing her best to ignore) what happened, “Do not fiddle with the money box and...” Now she completely forgot what she was going to say. Laysha frantically darted her eyes to her friends, hoping they could at least think of something to help her with ground rules or anything!

Jesse had stepped up to help Laysha, and spoke for her, “How about no picking up objects, so it isn’t too obvious that you guys are actually there,”

“Oh, and no making too much noise.”

Dr. Vincent tilted his head, “Exactly what counts as too much noise?”

Geiermann added on, “Can I even be allowed a walk?”

“Well, yes, obviously! Just don’t go around causing a ruckus,” Laysha quickly rebutted, “Like smashing stuff or arguing to each other.”

The ghost made a snide remark to his son, “Do you hear that, Vincent?”

“Yeah, did you?” He snapped back, crossing his arms in defiance, “With how much of a bluenose you already are, I never woulda’ thunk you do anything to begin with!”

“How many idiotic insults will you make until you stop your wake snakes spree?”

“Till the death of the universe, dearest father!” He leaned up close to Dr. Geiermann’s shoulder before breaking down in a laughing fit from how funny he thought he was.

“You are a complete lunkhead!” Dr. Geiermann shoved his son away from him.

The friend group simply watched on as the two ghosts started to go back and forth with each other. They kept spouting out different insults, annoying and taunting one another. Getting louder and louder, Dr. Vincent started shouting out profanities now, and he started getting physical. He shoved and poked his father, his gestures becoming increasingly varied and wild. Dr. Geiermann only stood his ground and continued to verbally reprimand his son.

“Well, you never close your head, so that’s on you!” Dr. Vincent blurted out.

Dr. Geiermann defiantly acquitted himself, “On me? C’est vous qui ne vous taisez jamais!”

“Est-ce que je ne me tais jamais ? C’est parce que vous ne vous taisez jamais et que vous vous plaignez toujours!” Dr. Vincent quickly snapped back at him over and over, now very rarely even giving his father a chance to react.

Laysha shuffled backwards to her friends and whispered, “Still don’t understand what they’re saying?”

Vixen mumbled back a measly, “Nope.”

The argument had now become a full on shouting match. The ghosts were screaming at each other, and so loud that Elliott noticed something just out of the corner of her eye. She leaned over to see up the stairs and saw three other ghosts staring down at them; two to the right and one to the left. Elliott immediately recognized one of the ghosts coming from the right- Ruth. The one that was staring him down at the hallway, but the other two he had no clue of.

The shorter one, seemingly only a child, was of a magenta hue. Her hair was shaped almost like a bowl cut, and she was wearing an oversized simple dress. From what he could see, random dark splotches dotted her arms. The ghost to the left had his entire head covered in bandages. His was of a tan and blue colors, sporting a simple t-shirt and pants. Although, when Elliott looked closer, she noticed that his head was floating instead if being attached to any neck. Elliott nudged Laysha by the shoulder, tilting and gesturing with their head to look up towards the stairs. As she did, her eyes widened in realization.

“Visitors?” Laysha said a bit too loudly for her liking.

Dr. Geiermann and Dr. Vincent shot their heads over to the friends, then turning their attention too the staring ghosts upstairs.

Without missing a beat, Dr. Vincent’s face grew in anger, and he flew to the end of the stairs and yelled, “SCRAM!”

They all disappeared in an instant, although the child lingered for slightly longer before slowly moving out of view. Dr. Vincent put back his façade as soon as they left, and calmly floated back down in front of the group. Dr. Geiermann still looked like he was fuming from the argument but didn’t want to engage any more than he had to.

“So, what were we discussing again?” Quizzed Dr. Vincent.

The group was still visibly reeling from the shouting match, all of them having wide eyes. But Laysha once again took hold of the answer.

“We were, uh, talking about rules… But I think that was it, right guys?” She looked back and forth between her friends with a desperate look in her face and a nervous smile. All four of them nodded and gave different variations of yes; yup’s, yeah’s, and ‘mhm’ littered the air.

“And how! That was a lovely conversation- though excuse my father for the disturbance.” Dr. Vincent pointed back to his dad as he was about to blow a fuse.

Instead, Dr. Geiermann angerly stated, “You know what? No!” And just in a flash, he disappeared into a cloud of smoke.

“Well thankfully, he’s gone now, so we have nothing to worry about!” He chuckled mid-sentence before calming back down, resting to his unnatural grin. He floated over in front of the group and rapidly looked between them.

“So, anything else you’se guy’s wanna know? Any other questions?” He was currently floating upside down now, putting his cane horizontally up to his chest and spinning it, waiting for any response.

Laysha spoke up in an instant, “How long did you run this place? When did you start working here?”

Dr. Vincent started giggling, “Oh, sometime after my father had died! I only lasted about 20 years before I kicked the bucket, but it happens to the best of us,” He tossed and turned in a fit of laughter. Smiling maniacally, he continued on, “And it paid some good clams from my last job as well! But that’s all.”

“Oh, thank you for the insight then.”

Dr. Vincent shook her hand rapidly, again sending multiple waves of freezing shock up in her arms, “Of course, of course!”

She nodded and pulled away from him as soon as he let go, “So, that was all we needed, actually.”

“Oh, seriously? Well, thank you for stopping by,” He seemed to switch tones, seemingly threatening, “Better get the money here soon.”

Laysha chuckled nervously, “Yup.”

He swiftly floated over to the end of the staircase and beckoned the group to follow him. They all promptly followed him back up the stairs. He started talking as they walked up the stairs, but most of the conversation was filled with his giggling and vaguely audible sentences. The friends just nodded along with him as they went along, not understanding his fast pace. After the trek upstairs, they said their goodbyes to each other.

“I’ll make sure that this place is in tip top shape when you come back to check in in a week,” Dr. Vincent floated upright (finally), “Certainly a pleasant time meeting you’se four!”

“And to you as well-” Before Laysha could finish, he grabbed her hand and shook it for the umpteenth time.

“Well, goodbye, goodbye. Have a wonderful day!” He cheerfully exclaimed.

The group, one by one, exited the asylum, but were stopped for a few seconds to receive Dr. Vincent’s chilling shake. They all left down the steps, and he yelled to them, “Au revoir!” before he slammed the door without giving them a second to respond.

After they had left, they all joked about what had happened. The strange asylum, the eccentric ghost and his father (among the others they didn’t even get to meet).

“How many others do you bet were in there?” Jesse larked.

“Do you see how big that place is?” Elliott gestured to the massive asylum, “There has to be at least two-hundred ghosts.”

“Two hundred, seriously?”

Laysha laughed at their antics, deciding to walk around the asylum for a bit. She stared at the cracked bricks, littered with vines and plants. The entire building seemed to be taken back by nature now that she looked at it. She carried on walking to the right of the building, breathing in every detail, but she still wished that she questioned them more. What’s the history of this place? What about the ghosts that were sentenced to the asylum? Drowning in her thoughts, she made her way to one end of the building and peeking out from around the corner seemed to be a cemetery. Laysha tilted her head, above it read “The Geiermann Cemetery.” Could it have been for the past patients? Vixen interrupted her thoughts by appearing behind her, tapping her on the shoulder and giving her a bit of a scare.

“What are you doing over here?” Vixen quizzed.

“Just wanted to walk around the place, what about you?”

“We were looking for you,” He chuckled lightly, “Isn’t the guy supposed to pick us back up soon?”

“Oh, right, right! I completely forgot,” She glanced over back to the cemetery.

“What are you staring at?” Vixen leaned over to see what she was looking at.

“I don’t know, must have been an old graveyard or cemetery thing to keep the past patients. I mean, you heard what Elliott said,” Laysha gave him a polite smile, “About time we get going, I don’t want Jesse gnawing at my throat for being late.”

Vixen laughed and they went on their way.

They walked back, greeted their friends but Laysha had not told them about what she saw, and Vixen already seemingly forgot. After about a minute or so, the man arrived to pick them back up. He asked how they liked the place and if anything happened, but they had a silent agreement not to say anything about the ghosts just yet. They just joked about certain things that had happened (or changed them for the story) and went on with their lives. Laysha had told the man that she would like to buy it for the five thousand agreed before. He expressed a bit of shock but complied. They arrived back at the car and said their goodbyes to the man and drove off, discussing what to do next.

Epilogue…

Around 2 hours later...

Dr. Geiermann was looking outside a window on the far right of the asylum. The sun had started to set, and lay harsh shadows against the dead forest. Leaves were brushing around in the wind, dancing and swirling until the gushing wind had stopped. The sun was bright as it sunk down past the Earth from his view. No one else was roaming the hallways and no other sounds were being made. He was all alone with his thoughts. Up until a blue flume of smoke appeared behind him, and a familiar tricolor glow was seen. Dr. Geiermann let out an annoyed sigh before turning to look at his son.

“Have you come to apologize yet?” His face grew dark.

“For what?”

Dr. Geiermann groaned before responding, “Never mind.”

His son giggled and promptly rested his arm on his father’s shoulder, “But that wasn’t what I wanted to talk to you about.”

His father turned back around to the window, “What do you want of me, Vincent?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing! Just about those kids. So when they come back around and buy the place, who’s gonna look out for the tourists?”

“What exactly are you to get at here? Such as…” Dr. Geiermann trailed off, flitting and turning his hand about to get the right words, “Vous cherchez les touristes pour qu’ils ne nous voient pas?”

“Exactly!” Dr. Vincent snapped his fingers and moved his head away. He started floating around, tapping his finger on his chin, wondering, “So, who exactly do you think would be good for that?”

“Why are you asking me?” His son cut him off in a flash.

“Of course, you would be perfect, perfect! Thank you, thank you!” He gave his father a swift hug, and just as he appeared, he was gone once more.

Dr. Geiermann was left there to ponder what had just happened to him (again) and question what his son had gotten them all into. All he could for now, is stare back out into the now nightly dark woods, and wait until next week.

#boring days #ghost #ghost oc #writing #fiction #fiction writing #humor writing #character writing #ghost ocs #writers on tumblr #supernatural writing #ghost writing #ghosts #screams #I AM SO HAPPY I FINISHED THIS #FINALLY #IT TOOK ME HOW MANY MONTHS #BUT I FINISHED IT #YAYYYY

[stevebabey]

the swindling of steve harrington’s heart

word count: 9.5k synopsis: you write for the advice column in the hawkins post, under the pen name gabby. you get a letter asking for advice about a first date and there’s no way it’s the same guy you’ve just landed a first date with, right? steve harrington doesn’t need help with his dates... right? [based on this post] [fem!reader + strangers to lovers but… steve’s a big sap for you already, ok?]

The first letter comes in on a Tuesday. 

It’s posted in an ordinary envelope, with only a messy scrawl on the front to dictate that it was for the advice column of Hawkins Post. Inside revealed the same loopy letters, on a single piece of paper, reading: 

Out of all the letters you’ve ever received at this job, most of which were lengthy admissions of troubles in suburbia, this one was by far the most interesting one you’d gotten all month. All year if you were being honest.

Writing advice under the pen name Gabby for your local paper likely wasn’t anyone’s first choice of job, not at least for those serious about writing as yourself was.

But between flipping burgers down at Benny’s and slinging shakes at Rita’s Diner, it seemed the lesser of all evils. And hey, it paid decently enough and you had a sweet little set-up in one of the drowsy corners of the office. 

It’s how you wind up here, scanning over the letter from one mysterious S.

It’s penned on some spare paper, nothing special. It wasn’t even lined paper like you might usually use for sending a letter of any sorts. It intrigued you the moment it had been dropped into your basket.

Hands flipping through the 4 other letters in there, rows of soft pink and blue envelopes, all with familiar handwriting, you determined that this one was, indeed, a new writer.

You practically devoured it from the first line. Gossip was rampant in Hawkins, like all small towns, but it was not so often shared so publicly with the paper, despite the anonymity that came with the advice column.

Most people in Hawkins seemed to come for advice on outshining their neighbours with a peach cobbler. Some asked whether jazzercise really was the go. There were very few sad tales of love in between the mush.

But this? Even just from the use of the word crush, you knew this wasn’t the average housewife talking midlife marital issues. This was someone your age.

It’s just a little bit funny, you admit — you, yourself, couldn’t imagine ever turning to the local paper to seek out love-life advice. Especially considering none of your previous replies as Gabby implied you had expertise in that area.

You decided it meant they were truly desperate or perhaps completely a hopeless romantic, or a bit of both.

But you couldn’t lie, either way, it’s entirely endearing to you.

It didn’t matter that it was probably someone who had no ‘game’, it was entirely completely made up by the fact they were clearly trying very hard, very genuinely.

They cared enough about getting things right. Whoever they were wooing was very lucky— re-reading over the short letter shoots a grimy wave of envy through your chest. When was the last time someone cared that much about a first date with you? About any date with you? The answer was… probably, never.

It didn’t help either that you had just landed yourself a date. A date with Steve Harrington.

For just a moment, a very brief moment, you look down at the signed S and wonder: would he?

No, he wouldn’t, you decide swiftly. The fragile hope that briefly hung up on the idea is shaken off as you recall his charismatic nature, his easy grin when he asked you out just the other week.

There had been a bit of nervousness, sure, but when you consider the dating history he’d had through high school, well… You feel embarrassed for even considering it. 

King Steve Harrington doesn’t need help with his dates.

Besides, the letter clearly states this was S’s long-time crush. You were fairly certain that if the school’s golden boy harboured any sort of feelings for you, it wouldn’t have slipped past your radar.

Last time you checked, Steve had only noticed you when you had gone into Family Video the other week — when he had promptly asked if you wanted to see a movie together sometime.

Sure, it hadn’t been nearly as smooth as you expected, though, that wasn’t to say you weren’t charmed. You’d heard a lot about Steve— though, who at Hawkins High hadn’t?

He had been that customer-service type of welcoming, hands braced against the countertop as he leaned into it, a handsome smile on his face.

You had pretended your stare didn’t linger on his arms. Or that you were drinking in all the subtle changes to himself, physically and more, since his primped-up freshmen-self. 

You had even admitted to yourself that he managed to pull off the dweeby Family Video vest, trailing behind him as he led you both to the action-film section.

Steve had stood close enough that you could feel the warmth emanating from him, and had helped debate your choice. He didn’t even comment when you got distracted looking at his arms when he crossed them, even though he smiled a little more smugly, having seen your wandering eyes.

Like it was your fault he had gorgeous, tanned, toned arms that made you want to drool.

But even with all his suaveness, Steve still looked surprised when you laughed at his joke, or his attempt at one — and then some of his coolness seemed to flee.

He had fumbled through the whole interaction of checking out your film and asked if you’d like to ‘maybe if you want, totally cool if not’, wanted to watch one with him sometime.

You think you’d say yes all over again just to see the way he had lit up. He positively beamed, then swiftly ducked his head to hide his hasty grin.

Saturday at 8, you’d agreed on. At the Hawk. He’d pay for the tickets and you’d shout the snacks. It’s a date, were his exact words. He had looked extra delighted when you had repeated them back to him with a nervous grin of your own.

It’s what you think of as you peer down at the letter in your hands, loopy scrawls telling a plea in love. You think about what you hope you’ll get on a first date — with Steve or anyone, for that matter — and pull up a new sheet to draft a response.

It’s about the only advice you can give. Truthfully, dates fail for a multitude of reasons that change on a day-to-day basis and if this S just didn’t match with their date, well… that was out of your hands.

But if S liked them this much, enough to reach out to the murky depths of the local paper’s advice column, then they should show that. If nothing else, you’re sure their date would be flattered at their sincerity.

Try as you might not, the letter plagues your mind as you leave work. Your response sits on your desk, penned up and ready to be printed for the Friday morning paper, hopefully giving enough time to your advice-seeking S.

By Saturday, however, it’s the last thing on your mind — it’s hard for anything else to occupy it when it bubbles away blissfully at the thought of your date later in the evening.

You try to not let your thoughts carry away with what Steve might wear, what film you’d watch, whether you’d be able to sneakily hold his hand in the shadows of the cinema.

It plays a romantic pink-saturated loop in your brain, daydreaming of some silly kiss in the back row because Steve just can’t resist, he’s had a crush on you for so long— okay, maybe the letter was on your mind just a little.

But 8 o’clock whirls around faster than you expect and you arrive outside the cinema with only a couple minutes to spare. You’re more than relieved to see Steve already there, leaning up against the brick wall where the upcoming movies are showcased, bathed in soft golden light. 

He’s got on a pair of dark wash jeans and the polo he’s wearing stretches around his arms deliciously, forcing a giddy sigh from your lips.

There’s a jacket slung over his crossed arms and one of his feet is tapping rapidly against the ground. Even from afar, you can see him worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Your heart spurs faster at the sight. He’s nervous.

“Steve!” You call out, unable to help how you’re already smiling like a lovesick fool. It doesn’t help when Steve’s head pops up, his hair bouncing just a bit. He lights up at the sight of you, features moving from worry to something happier. 

He straightens up, back scraping the bricks, and he steps forward to meet you in the middle.

“Hey,” he breathes, a grin stretching over his lips. This close, you can smell the cologne he’s wearing— something musky, with a hint of bergamot — and your head spins, all dizzy with delight.

“Hey, yourself.” You reply as playfully as you can manage. You swallow back another wave of nerves.

Fuck, was he this pretty when he asked you out? In the space of a couple of days, he seems to have gotten even more attractive. He’s got that entire look about him that reminds you of a daydream.

“You look, uh, really lovely tonight.” Steve compliments, tucking his hands into his front pockets nervously. He sounds so sincere it aches, the words worming under your skin til you believe them completely; he really does think you look lovely.

It’s a strange moment of consideration you find yourself having. You’re here, on a date with Steve Harrington and he thinks you look really lovely.

It’s not like you hadn’t heard the rumours about the cosmic shift in the King of Hawkins High — going from sneering at other kids in the hallways to cleaning off graffiti on his own accord. 

Yet, some small part of you is still delightfully surprised, as though it had been unconvinced until you had seen it for yourself. In the past, a part of you had been truly miffed at the waste of a pretty face on a douchebag like King Steve. 

Now, it’s like an entirely different person. When Steve offers you another smile, earnest and sweet, you’re secretly glad to get to be the one who takes a chance on him.

You come to a standstill at the back of the winding line outside the ticket booth, the pair of you lingering closer than needed. The brush of his shoulder against your own feels blazing, a streak of warmth. You hope he can’t feel your resounding shiver— and half-hope that he does and gets closer because of it.

“That— uh, thank you,” you manage to remember your words. Even better, you manage to accept the compliment semi-regularly, even though your insides are knitting themselves into a tangle of nervous anticipation.

“You too. Look nice!” You say, louder than you intend. The girl ahead of you peers over her shoulder and somehow even that’s not enough to keep your mouth from running. “I mean, you sort of always look good. That’s kinda—” you wave your hand over him generally, “—your thing. Looking… nice.”

Dear god stop, you will yourself, mouth snapping shut and eyes following quickly, screwed up in embarrassment. Way to completely disregard the advice you gave a stranger and pile on the appearance-based compliments.

You do your best to hide your wince as you peek your eyes back open. It’s a relief to see Steve chuckle good-naturedly, a delicate pink touching the apples of his cheeks.

“You know,” Steve begins as the line ambles forward slowly. His gaze switches between the ground and you, too nervous to commit to looking you straight on. “I didn’t just ask you out because you’re pretty.” 

He pauses. Rethinks his words and makes a hasty correction. “I do! Think that you’re pretty, that is.”

His quick assurance makes you laugh just a bit and you hide it behind a bitten-back smile. Steve stops examining his shoes for a moment, glancing to check you haven’t taken his words the wrong way.

Your heart feels like it does a forward roll in your chest, seeing his even pinker cheeks. God, in what world do you make Steve Harrington so nervous?

“I just—” Steve continues, shoulders hiking up a bit, another nervous motion. “I don’t want you to think that that’s the only reason, I asked. I like that you’re nice. You’ve always been nice.”

You blink at him. In a moment of clarity, a couple of revelations roll through your mind, each one steamrolling the last one before you can grapple each one properly.

Revelation No. 1. is the fact that Steve had noticed you. Past tense. Noticed you enough to think you’re nice and bookmark that in his brain. He remembers things about you. And then— then he had made a special effort to compliment you. Specifically outside of your appearance.

And hadn’t you just given specific advice like that? You had! You had given advice to an anonymous person known only as S, with instructions for their first date. Their first date with their long-time crush.

Which means... you’re Steve Harrington’s long-term crush. Which means, oh my god, Steve Harrington accidentally wrote into your job to ask you for advice on his date with you.

The result of the revelations, each one blooming quickly as the one before it, leaves you entirely speechless for a moment. Baffled. You gape like a fish, mouth flapping around empty words. You can’t quite compute it. Steve? Steve is the one who wrote to the local paper for advice? Steve Harrington wrote in for advice about a date with you? His long-term crush?

You’re thankful Steve’s nervous enough to not look at you because, for a silent 10 seconds, you’re sure every emotion from ecstatic and bewildered crosses your features. What in the actual hell?

You’re not sure how you expect yourself to continue this date and act like a regular person, knowing what you know.

And, more importantly, should you tell Steve? 

You get about 10 more seconds of floundering to debate it, tossing up a thousand different ways this entire evening could change if you reveal yourself.

Steve would be embarrassed. Steve would be angry. Steve wouldn’t believe you and just think you’re messing with him. Steve didn’t even write the letter and you’ve connected dots that don’t even exist.

You can’t pinpoint which one is the truth. You truthfully don’t know Steve well enough to predict how he might react, no matter how sweet he may have been. A realisation of how quiet you’ve been rolls through you when Steve’s head pulls up, concern knitting his brows together.

Something else altogether comes out of your mouth instead.

“You noticed me?”

Steve goes even more red. It’s a glorious sight and in an instant, you can tell he hasn’t meant to give that much away. The line shuffles forward and Steve seems thankful for it, clearing his throat and eyeing the ticket box ahead like he was wishing you were both there already. There’s only one more couple ahead of you.

“Is that weird?” He says after a moment, his voice a bit smaller than before.

“What?” You say, because it’s the last thing you’re expecting him to say. “No! I’m sorry I didn’t— that wasn’t an accusation!”

You mull over your thoughts, trying your best to put into words how it had actually made you feel. How it had soaked your inside with giddiness, not with worry. 

“It’s... really sweet, actually.” You admit, feeling bold enough to nudge your shoulder against his.

“Yeah?” Steve asks, the question said so earnestly it’s like he’s not quite sure he believes you.

“I mean,” You smile, sneaking a nervous glance sideways at him. He’s watching you, expression hinting at anticipation. You nod, continuing, “I’m glad you didn’t just ask me out because you think I’m pretty.”

The last word comes out a bit strained. It feels strange to admit it out loud even with the way Steve looks at you; little glitters of adoration in his eyes.

“It’s-” You clear your throat and bite back a smile that might be too eager. “It’s nice to be noticed.” 

Steve makes a small sound of content, like some sort of pleased hum. Then the couple ahead of you is moving and it’s your turn to step up for tickets.

You hurry through tickets and snacks, getting a packet of Reese's Pieces, some popcorn, and one huge cup of soda with two neon-coloured straws sticking out. When you duck through the velvet curtains at the theatre doors, arm already looped through Steve’s, it feels like you’re entering not as two people but as something closer. 

The evening whirls by in a lavender haze and Steve is nothing short of everything sweet and charming. Even with his nerves tripping him up now and then, it’s all endearing to you.

You two are the last ones out of the cinema, ushered out by bored employees whose glaring only deepened when they realised you and Steve had conducted a popcorn throwing competition between yourselves. You had been left in the dust, with Steve catching near every piece you threw at him. You were less gracious, salt smearing on your cheeks from so many missed throws. 

By the time you’re both back out the front, the night has found a chill to drape across the evening. The sky glitters darkly. The bulbs surrounding the front of the cinema glow and crackle quietly and you’re pleasantly delighted to find you don’t want to leave just yet.

“Hey,” Steve starts. He’s stuffed his hands in his pockets but you can see them twisting about nervously. “Yanno, I had a really good time tonight.”

You can see the moment he bites his tongue and holds back another sentence. You smile as encouragingly as you can — though something about how well the night has gone has your courage growing, doubling, tripling in size.

“Me too.” You admit. You ignore how your palms start to dampen just a titch and seize the words before your nerve fails you. “Did you— do you want to do it again, maybe?”

Steve nods, a stray strand of his hair escaping with the enthusiasm of the motion. He chuckles a bit, pushes it back, and steps closer. “Yes. I mean, yes, of course. You’re... this was so lovely.”

There’s a stir ecstatically in your chest in his words, which drip in sincerity. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, head ducked in shyness. It’s still strange, for someone to be so forward in their affections to you. “Um, should I- I could give you my number?”

Steve nods again, just as fervently as last time. He’s somehow gotten closer in just the few minutes you’ve been speaking like there’s a magnetism within you that he can’t resist.

“Yeah, totally! Did you — I don’t have a pen, I’m sorry,” He chuckles again. His hand scratches at the back of his neck.

You’re thankful for your insane preparedness, digging through your bag to produce a pen. By the time you pop the cap off it, a green marker, Steve’s already rolled back his sleeve. He holds out his arm.

“Your canvas awaits,” He jokes. Your smile grows into a grin, almost ashamed of how funny you found that. God, crushes made you stupid — though thankfully Steve seems to grin wider at hearing your laugh.

You curl your fingers around his wrist to hold his arm still. He’s warm, hot blood pumping beneath your touch. You try not to focus on how you can feel his pulse under your fingertips, nor how it’s racing far faster than normal. After your number, you hesitate for a moment before adding a quick doodle of a heart. It’s sloppy, not exactly your best work. 

Steve loves it. The moment you release his arm, he thumbs over the heart. Steve looks up at you, an infectious type of smile on his face now. “I’ll give you a call, yeah?”

You nod, tucking your hands in your pocket. You’re unable to stop yourself from rocking up onto the balls of your feet in your excitement. 

“Uh, you should probably call after 9 unless you want to meet my mom already.”

Steve huffs a laugh. “Got it. After 9. No meeting mom just yet.” He promises.

This time, reading the letter feels like there’s sparking gunpowder littered in your very heart — lighting it up in a frenzy of fire in your chest as you read. It’s impossible to do anything except inhale each new word. You felt a little bad, sure, reading a review of your own date but then again, it was your job.

Besides, you’d tell Steve. When... Well, alright, you weren’t totally sure when you were going to tell him.

Definitely not before the next date. It was still fragile — and some part knew that if you told him, there was a good chance Steve would be too embarrassed. Would work himself up over it and it would ruin everything.

It was like... a souffle. You had to take it out of the oven at the right time; too soon, and everything would sink in on itself.

So, you decided to wait it out. Dish out some more advice and... see how the next date went.

You write back, There isn’t such a thing as giving too much away. This girl will be flattered to know you care as much as you do. Take her somewhere special to you.

It’s just enough of a nudge you think. ‘Somewhere special’ was a wide-open prompt that Steve could interpret as he liked. He could pick just how intimate the next date would be. You promise to yourself quietly, that if you get a third date, you’ll tell him then. 

Steve calls you the night after your responding advice is published in The Hawkins Post. 10 minutes past 9pm. He tells you, voice low and sweet, that he’s got a surprise spot in mind.

“If you’re up for that,” Steve hastily tacks on. “We don’t have to. I’m- we can go out for dinner if you’d prefer that. I totally love dinner.”

Faintly through the phone, you hear the quiet noise, like a thud. You have to smother down a giggle as you realise Steve’s smacked himself with the phone in his own exasperation.

“I’m up for a surprise,” You assure him, clutching the phone a bit tighter in your excitement. “That sounds fun.”

“Fun,” Steve echoes, with a tone of disbelief. Like he hadn’t believed you’d agree until, well, you had. “Yes! It’ll be fun. So much. I hope so. When are you free?”

His words come out so quickly. You can’t hide your laugh this time, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip to try to dissuade the giddy grin threatening your lips. No dice. Nothing can stop your elation.

“What kind of surprise are we talking about?” You ask first, thinking over your next words, wondering if you’re brave enough to say them. You take the leap. “Because, well, I know it’s a Tuesday but I’m free tomorrow night and—“

“Yes.” Steve cuts in eagerly. “Tomorrow night, let’s do it. I can pick you up?”

“Okay,” you agree, nodding even though he can’t see it. You don’t think your grin can’t get any wider, barely contained enough to relay your address for him to jot down.

Tuesday evening is soft, the sky a pale blue that washes warmth over the day. Steve picks you up on time. He’s handsome as ever, leaning up against the driver's side door as he waits for you.

Your heart does a little skip when he straightens up upon spotting you, perking up like he had at the cinema. It reminds you faintly of a dog wagging its tail; his happiness at seeing you so visible to see. 

“Did you get prettier since the last time I saw you?” He says, in lieu of greeting as you trot down to meet him. You feel heat bloom beneath your cheeks.

“I-” Your nerves creep up and honesty takes over your words. “I don’t know how to answer that.” You titter out a laugh, a smile tugging at your mouth.

Steve hums as you come to a stop before him. He pretends to give you a serious once over, his eyes light and smile easy. His gaze comes back up to rest on your face before he nods firmly.

“Mmhm, it’s just as I expected.” He reports back, soft and genuine. “Prettier in every way.”

You laugh again, nervousness bleeding into the sound but his words sink into your skin warmly. Fingers twisting into your sweater, you try to rein in your rabbiting heart.

“You’re a goof, anyone ever tell you?”

Steve grins. “Never said I wasn’t. Now, your chariot awaits.”

He sweeps an arm to the car behind him.

He’s right, it is a surprise. You’re not entirely sure where you’d been anticipating — maybe his favourite spot to eat? But instead, he takes you to a clearing, with blankets of grass and wildflowers dotted across the landscape.

For a moment, when you creep out from his car, hands still clutching the edge of the door, you wonder if this is how he found Skull Rock and the likes — that maybe Steve Harrington was an explorer by nature. You think back to your advice and wonder; what makes this place special to him? 

Your heart twists, knowing that he’s taken your advice, even if some part of you tears up in guilt. You will tell him. You take solace in knowing there’s not much to be guilty of; telling him the best way to woo you is hardly terrible manipulation.

Sure, it’s swindling but... of the sweetest kind. You lead him to your heart and in return, get to steal his own.

Steve’s brought along a blanket and picnic for the two of you. There are crudely cut sandwiches, though you don’t doubt he’s tried his best, paired with punnets of ripe fat strawberries. It’s... adorable. Dizzily endearing, how much effort he’s put in for you.

Your heart aches a little more at his pink cheeks as he unpacks all this for you like he’s worried what you’ll think. He is worried about what you’ll think, you realise. Despite all you’ve heard and known about King Steve, your mind winds up thinking back to his letter... I don’t want her to get freaked out if I come on too strong.

A fire of determination burns in your chest. Loving loudly would never be— could never be something to hide. Nor to feel embarrassed over, not with you at least.

So, you start by trying to feed him a strawberry, like a thousand romance novels have taught you. Instead of a cute gesture, you smush it into his cheek instead by accident as he turns his face suddenly. An apology squeaks out of you.

“I’m— oh my god, I’m so sorry,” You’re wiping the red juice splattered on his cheek, your own cheeks feeling fiery and hot. Steve takes your endless apologies well, assuring away the beginnings of your mortification.

He only manages to truly stop your flow of embarrassed apologies by squishing a sandwich against your cheek as well, just to make it fair — a peel of your laughter fills the field, some of your nervousness floating away with it.

Then, just as you had, Steve wipes off the smear of cream cheese on your chin with his thumb, the motion soft and gentle. Your nerves jump around again.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” you begin, finally asking the question that’s been burning since you arrived. “Because I’m loving this date but… Why did you pick this spot?” 

You’re careful to word your question in a way that doesn’t give away what else you know. Beside you, Steve takes a moment to think. His eyes scan over your face before he tilts it back to face the clearing, his arms resting on his propped up knees.

He’s just a boy. A pretty boy on a picnic rug he brought along to your date, in a field of flowers that he took you to. You have the thought to compare him to a painting in this moment right as Steve starts to speak.

“I came up here a whole lot after,” Steve heaves a loud sigh like he’s regretful for what he’s about to bring up. “After me and Nancy broke up. It was good to get out of town and just, like, have my own time to think. To think about what I really wanted.” 

You dare to ask. “And did you figure it out? What you really wanted?” 

Steve glances over at you and smiles crookedly. It’s one of his real smiles, you’ve come to realise. “To not get my heart broken again, for starters. That just— that shit sucked, you know?” 

He laughs a little bitterly, more to himself, and steals another glance at you, like his words are a test and he’ll find an answer in your expression. You smile gently, hoping to convey every softness that you have for him. Every good intent. 

“Well, m’not looking to do that.” You admit truthfully. “Maybe, I’ll… I’ll ease the ache?” 

Steve seems to soften at your words, relaxing. His shoulders drop an inch. “I hope so.” 

“And maybe, I want a little bit of loverboy Steve Harrington for myself too.” You say, your smile turning more coy. It’s true that loverboy was one of the nicknames for Steve tossed around Hawkins High halls but it hadn’t really stuck the same way The Hair or King Steve had. Except for, well, secretly with you.

“Loverboy?” 

“That’s what they call you!” 

“And who are they?” Steve asks, some of his signature charm creeping back in. He smirks at you, leaning in closer and your breath hitches nervously. You grin despite it. 

“People!” 

“Uh huh…” 

Time flows easily around the two of you, weaving like the softest cocoon. As the sunset blossoms, the grassy clearing becomes breathtaking. The moment the sun dips below the horizon, dimming the sky and encouraging out the stars, you suddenly know why this is Steve’s special spot.

He stretches out on his back, eyes to the sky. You copy him. Two little bodies cocooned in the sweet grass, wrapped in the night-time.

“This might seem strange,” Steve starts. His brows are bunched together, thinking hard, but his expression lightens as he turns his face to you. “But... Thank you for coming out here with me. For trusting me.”

A beat of quiet. A wind ruffles over the clearing, a soft whistle in the night. Steve swallows nervously. “Was it a good surprise?”

His question is so earnest it aches. It’s so obvious that he just wants to do this right and well for you.

You know now that even without your advice through the paper, Steve would have charmed you all the same. That you might’ve taken another route and it might’ve taken another couple of dates before you got here, sharing secret spots— but that you’d end up here, with him, regardless.

“It was,” you tell him truthfully, chest glittering with happiness. You smile at him, nudging his shoulder with your own. “Thank you for showing me.”

Steve grins. He turns back to face the sky, eyes cinching shut for a moment. Breathes in the moment. You admire the dimple of his smile. His pretty mouth. His eyes peek back open as turns back to you, voice dropped down into a whisper, “You’re welcome.”

It feels like a little more than you’re welcome — like maybe, he’s thanking you too. You’re really thanking yourself too, for wandering into Family Video when you had, for saying yes to Steve, for giving yourself this chance with him.

Moonlight shadows across his face, strong brows and sloped nose even more defined in the dark. You stare, eyes dragging from mole to mole, avoiding his intense brown eyes that threaten to make everything in your chest melt pathetically.

Shit, is he going to kiss you? Your stomach jumps with a spike of pure want and you move forward— right as Steve sits up. Embarrassment flushes down your spine and you recoil back, sitting up quickly as Steve had but not quick enough.

“Wait,” Steve says suddenly, twisting to glance at where you’d both been lying just a moment. In your panic, you don’t hear the eagerness in his voice. “Were you gonna—?”

Somehow, it seems more embarrassing to admit it aloud. That you might have been ballsy enough to kiss Steve first. You shake your head without thinking about it, arms coming to curl around your knees. Fuck, you wish you had read that moment right.

“Uh,” You spit out stupidly. “No, no, it was just…” you clear your throat. The awkwardness of the moment is nearly painful.

“I mean, yes,” you correct yourself quietly, clearing your throat again. You don’t want Steve to think you don’t want to kiss him. “I was, but—“

“You were?” Steve sounds close to devastation. His expression has crumpled a bit, regret rippling off him in waves. Your stomach turns.

“It’s okay!” You assure him hurriedly. “It’s— you know, the moments gone but there’s always… next time, right?” Your voice comes out a bit tight.

Steve seems a tad bit relieved at your words, shoulders deflating an inch or so. He nods along, even though you can still see the tinge of embarrassment on his face — it’s adorable, that he’s the one feeling embarrassed like it wasn’t you who made a move at the wrong time.

“Yeah,” Steve hasn’t stopped nodding, even as his gaze has travelled off you, staring down at his hands. The furrow in his brow hasn’t eased up, still drawn together in the middle, even as he agrees, “Yeah, next time. Uh, totally.”

Then, his head jerks up in your direction. “I’m sorry, by the way, I didn’t mea—“

You wave him off, a nervous chuckle coming out. You sort of want to bury your missed kiss along with all your humiliation but with every other word but Steve keeps kicking off the dirt. “Seriously, it’s fine, Steve. Really.”

His nod isn’t all that convincing to say he believes you.

Regret festers deep in your gut when the evening seems to derail from that point on. Try as you might, you can tell Steve is stuck in his own head; no doubt hounding himself for the strange rebuff he’d given you.

It would be endearing, that he’s so twisted up inside over it, if it didn’t seep awkwardness into the remainder of your date. You wish you hadn’t tried to kiss him.

The car ride to drop you home is absent of the sweet conversation you’d had when he’d picked you up. Words lull, just an oddly tense air between you two. You’re not sure how to fix this.

When Steve pulls up to the curb, the engine idling with a low rumble, you don’t open the door, not yet. Instead, you turn to Steve.

He’s already waiting, already looking over at you, a hint of worry in his expression — though, it’s gone in a flash.

Steve peels his white-knuckled grip off the steering wheel, pressing his hands into his thighs nervously. He gives a strange sort of chuckle and exhales.

“Right,” He starts, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I know that— well, obviously, that wasn’t how I’d hoped that would go at the end and—”

He pauses, eyes scrunching shut with a groan as he tries to collect his words. The next sentence looks like it takes effort to grind out. “I would understand, is all, if you decided you didn’t want to go out again—”

“I do.” 

“—because that was, well- wait, what?”

Steve forces his eyes open and doesn’t even try to hide his astonishment. Your heart throbs achingly at his obvious surprise.

“I do want to go out again.” You nod along with your words. Being so sincere makes you feel a bit naked, forcing your vulnerability out into the open so that you don’t let him spiral. But you’d rather deal with that discomfort that let Steve get the wrong idea.

“Yeah?” Steve breathes. He seems to remember himself, picking his hands off his lap and draping them over the steering wheel. They tap at it lightly. Still nervous. “I’ll— I’ll call you?”

You nod again. For a brief moment, you think of how dates are supposed to end with kisses, or so you’re told. Your eyes dip down to his lips.

You want to. Even just pressing a peck to his cheek might satisfy your churning, growing urge to kiss him — but you certainly don’t have enough courage scraped together after his accidental rebuff.

A little part of you whispers meanly that it may not have been so accidental.

“After 9pm, remember?” You hear yourself say with a smile. Opening the door, you step out onto the sidewalk and close it gently behind you.

Then you deliver Steve one more smile, one more look back, because that’s the bravest you can be at the moment.

He doesn’t call the next night.

Or the night after.

You’re certainly not expecting another letter from Steve, especially considering how your phone has sat idle and quiet in its cradle since your date on Tuesday. Ringing, but not for you.

But come Friday morning— there is it.

Another letter, scribbled in handwriting you’re coming to recognise. Your heart stammers through the next couple beats as you realise what it is, who has sent it.

This time, you nearly consider not reading it. For him and for you, you consider letting it get lost in the piles of paper, never seen, never read. But burning curiosity wins, coddled by your bruised ego.

This letter is messier and more hurried than its predecessors, letters looping together all slanted.

And…oh.

A small worry in you settles. Changes and transforms into something warmer as you realise he hasn’t called you because he’s waiting for advice first. Waiting, unknowingly, for you to answer him.

You genuinely think the space where your heart is supposed to be is empty — that the organ has melted down like gooey candle wax, dripping down your ribcage in burning hot affection. Your chest aches in the best way.

You’d never understood films where girls lie on their beds and kick their feet up, doodling hearts on paper. The urge is suddenly quite overwhelming. Christ. Steve really likes you.

He hadn’t called you back because— because part of him thinks you wouldn’t want him too. That one missed kiss would be the dealbreaker, even after those lovely dates.

You want to scoff, to laugh, to track down Steve and grip him by the shoulders and say, ‘I think you’re stuck with me if you’ll have me!’

You settle for pulling out a fresh sheet to draft your response.

It’s a bit of a gamble, considering the part about the stars is complete codswallop. The newspaper doesn’t even technically have an astrologist; the horoscopes are auto-generated every week. You’re praying Steve won’t know that.

The paper goes to print on Friday evening, for the early weekend morning the day after. Saturday morning, there’s a call of your name downstairs and you’re halfway down the stairs when you pause at the sight of your mom on the phone.

“Someone on the phone for you,” She comments, the smallest raise of her eyebrows. You ignore the way that makes you hot inside, rushing down the end of the stairs to rescue who you hope is Steve on the other end of the phone. Your mom skirts away but not without one more meaningful glance back at you.

You turn and face the other way, giving away nothing. You’re sure you sound a bit breathless as you speak into the receiver, “Hello?”

A crackle on the other end.

“Hi.” A voice says nervously. There’s a moment’s pause. “It’s Steve.”

You fight off a combination of responses; a girlish squeal and a hefty sigh of relief. He called. The cord of the phone loops around your fingers automatically.

“Hey,” You say, aiming for casual. You’re not sure if it comes out that way.

A small part of you doesn’t mind if he hears your poorly tamped down excitement — an even smaller part wants him to. There’s something different about this call, knowing what you know.

“I’m real sorry it took so long to call,” Steve says, voice genuine. He clearly feels the need to explain his silence. You suppose if you hadn’t received his letter, you might still be feeling a bit confused and bummed out. “I— I’ll tell you all about why tomorrow? If you’re free?”

It’s sickeningly sweet that he still sounds so nervous.

“Of course,” you say. “It’s—” It crosses your mind to tell him, here and now, to explain that you knew exactly why he took so long to call you. You fumble and something else comes out instead. “I’m- I’m glad you called, Steve.”

“Me too.”

Your cheeks ache a bit with the force of your grin. The cord of the phone loops over your finger again and again as you sink against the wall, clutching the phone tighter and pull yourself together,

“So, what’s the plan?”

“You, me, maybe head over to Indianapolis and try out the new golfing game they just set up over there? That sound… good to you?”

It sounds very good to you. 

“I can’t say I’ve ever played golf.” You admit.

A little worry piques up about making a fool of yourself, then settles quickly. Steve wouldn’t make fun of you. If you sucked, you’re actually sure he’d find some way to spin it all romantic style.

“I’ll teach you.”

“You’ve played?”

“Never,” You can hear Steve’s smile through the phone. “But can’t be that hard right?”

—

There’s a lot of thought that goes into what to wear, evident in the holes you must be wearing in your carpet from pacing across it. Restless energy drives you, some labyrinth of nerves and anticipation knotted in your gut. 

Spread out before you on the bed lies everything you own in the colour yellow.

If she wears yellow, it’s your sign. Make your move.

Your own words— well, Gabby’s words, delivered to Steve via the Hawkins Post on how to know if he’s earned your heart like you know he so desperately wants to. You want to show him he has — in a way that seems like a goddamn sign from the universe.

The skirt is one of your nicer ones.

Along the waistline, embroidered flowers are stitched into the fabric and it swishes in just the way you love. Best of all is the dreamy buttery colour, like the colour that bleeds through at the beginning of a sunset, when the sky starts to change at dusk. It’s yellow as yellow comes — for good reason. 

You want him to see you and know.

For the sign to be so unanimously yes that he doesn’t have any space for the same doubts that tornadoed up in his head after your last date.

The type of giddiness that can only be spurred on by crushes and love alike spins up inside you, like sugar catching in a wheel and turning to cotton candy. You’re so sweet on him it’s making you feel gaga. 

You’re also terrified — because you have to tell him now. Inklings of anxiety settle in your chest, leaving little notches in your ribs that twinge a little bit. You really don’t want Steve to leave your life, not now that he’s just come into it.

A little part of you regrets not telling him on the first date, when all your revelations rolled into one big Oh My God! outside of the Hawk cinema.

You hadn’t told him though, so you need to tell him now. And then again, if you’re asking Steve to trust in the stars then… maybe, so should you. 

The afternoon sun lights through the glass of your front door and coats the entrance hall in gold. Steve, as always, is on time. You’re barely down the stairs, the clock chiming at 1 o’clock, when a familiar toot! sounds from out front. Your fingers stress with the fabric of your skirt, smoothing it down for the nth time. 

Here goes… everything. 

You open the door to step you and you startle in surprise to find there’s already someone on the doorstep. 

The door snicks shut behind you, bumping your forward an inch, and the warmth of the afternoon sweeps across your skin.

Steve’s staring downwards, one hand adjusting his ringer t-shirt nervously and the other holding together a fresh bouquet of flowers- sunflowers.

He got you sunflowers. 

Yellow, yellow, yellow. There seems to be a theme to your love. 

His head shoots up at the sound of your entrance, his eyes snagging on your sunny-coloured skirt which shifts in the wind. You swear you can hear his breath hitch as he takes in the colour, a smile blooming wide across his face.

Remembering his manners, Steve clears his throat and tears his eyes off your skirt but it’s too late — the buttery yellow has done its job and he knows. 

His grin has turned brazen and wild. Confidence rolls his shoulder back a bit and his chest puffs out. He looks so handsome it makes you hopelessly nervous. 

“These are…” Steve holds the flowers out but his words trail off. His eyes back on the ground as he thinks, hard, teeth worrying at his bottom lip.

In a second, he seems to come to a decision because he’s stepping closer to you, so close that if you both leaned in a couple more inches, your nose would brush his chin. He holds the sunflowers purposefully out the way, mindful of crushing them. 

He smells very nice, you realise. The scent of his cologne inspires a flustering reaction; you’re sure there must be cartoon hearts swimming above your head. You reign in your thoughts before they get away from you.

“Look, I messed up our last kiss and honestly, until recently I didn’t even know that was something I was even capable of doing.” Steve huffs a laugh, his throat bobbing as he swallows nervously.

His eyes screw shut for just a moment, gathering his thoughts, or perhaps his courage. Maybe both. 

“But, I am. I’m- I feel like a fool around you and I miss these little cues because I’m trying to think of the right thing to say or— or because I can’t stop looking at you. And it’s because I like you. I really like you.” 

He inhales a shuddering breath. The sun beams make his eyes two shades lighter. 

“I’ve been confused and lost in love once before and it means that some days I’m not even sure what that feeling even is, what I’m looking for, but… I think it may feel a lot like you.” 

There is it, presented forward to you. His heart on his sleeve, bleeding for you. 

His affections are so transparent it makes you ache for him more. Sunlight seems to fill your chest, burning in its ardor and the tenderness soon follows.

You feel the fondness you have for him, just a seedling of new love, taking root deep in your heart. A part of you suspects it may have snuck in there far earlier, nestling in sometime between your longing glancing and shared smiles. 

“And now, I really, really want to kiss you.” Steve says, the words so earnest they scrape on the way up his throat.

His brown eyes are searching your face as his free hand rises, hesitating for only a moment before it finds a home curled along your jaw. “And get a chance to get it right this time.” 

“Steve,” you whisper. His name makes your mouth tender like no other word can. “Kiss me.” 

His fingers slide along your jaw and touch the edges of your hair as he inches nearer and your heart lurches up your throat in anticipation. His lips are quivering ever so slightly, you notice. 

And then his lips are on yours. 

He kisses your mouth with all the adoration of a familiar long-time lover, deep and longing. Pushing up on your toes, your hands grasp at his shirt, the fabric twisting between your fingers as you pull him closer. It’s… lovely.

Your heart aches and soars, beating as one with him as his kiss sets a fire aflame within you. You are officially and utterly enraptured by Steve Harrington and all he is, but especially his kisses. You already miss the last of his lips when Steve breaks the kiss. 

He doesn’t move back, staying close, and the tip of his nose bumps against yours. He’s sporting a grin that rivals the day in sunshine. 

“You wore yellow,” He says, voice doused in awe. 

Oh. That’s right. His words are a swift kick to reality. You pull back just a bit, hands flattening out on his chest, just so you can see his face properly because you know if you’re too close, you might fall victim to his brown eyes. 

“About that…” 

Steve blinks and takes a second to realise that he must have spoken aloud. He chuckles, a hint of embarrassment in the noise, and rushes to explain. “That was— that must’ve sounded-” 

“I’m Gabby.” You interrupt before he can get carried away. 

Steve frowns, confusion creasing between his brows. “What? I thought your name was—” 

“No!” You jump in again, biting down your smile at his adorable misunderstanding. “I-I mean I write as Gabby. From the Hawkins Post.” 

Steve blinks at you again. His face blanches and then, it’s like watching fruit ripen, the apples of his cheek getting pinker and pinker with every passing second.

He splutters, a myriad of emotions overtaking his features; surprise, bewilderment, embarrassment. He jumps from one to the other in an instant.

“You- you’re— and you?”

There’s not really a proper sentence coming from Steve, just bucket loads of endearing and unneeded embarrassment radiating off him, so warm you can nearly feel it. Steve sputters for another second before he finally manages to spit out a sentence. 

“The whole time?” 

You have the decency to look sheepish when you nod. Steve steps back for a moment and you try to ignore the spike of fear it invokes in you — he buries his face in his hands, squishing the flowers against his hair, and releases a pitiful sounding groan into his palms. After a moment, he drags his hands down his face and peeks up at you. 

“The whole time?” Steve asks again, in a meek whisper.

“I’m sorry!” You squeak out, guilt beginning to overflow. Oh god, you’ve deceived him and he hates you—

“No, no, no,” He cuts you off with a wave of his hand, which then cards through his hair. He’s still looking a bit frazzled but his eyes finally focus back on you.

“It’s not— Oh, man, I can’t believe it was you. No wonder the advice worked so well! This is- this is a new kind of embarrassing—” 

Steve groans again, though his smile is starting to return. “I can’t believe you still went out with me once you figured it out. God, I knew that writing in was a bit pathetic, it’s gotta be like a—” He holds his hand out flat, hovering at chest height. “Top ten loser move of all time and you still—.” 

“No, it’s not!” You insist, stepping forward to close the gap between you. You shake your head, eager to convince him of how it had seemed from your side; a sweet love letter from someone who cared enough to try to get things right.

“It was sweet and honest. Before I even knew it was you, reading that first letter, I… I wanted it to be you.” You admit, a bit bashfully. 

Steve takes a moment to look at you, eyes dancing down to look at your yellow skirt which swishes as another breeze passes by. Warm afternoon air cocooning around you, you look the picture of devastatingly pretty, dolled up for a date with him. You’ve seen this dorky and little bit pathetic side of him, with his desperate search for advice and missed kisses and yet… you’re still here. 

“You did? You mean that? You don’t think it was… weird?” 

You shake your head, a few strands of hair escaping from behind your ear. Steve thinks about tucking them back for you. He doesn’t feel brave enough yet.

“I mean that. I— it was crazy when I figured it out and I sort of thought it was just wishful thinking but, definitely not weird.” 

You hold your hand up, fingers nearly pinched together with only a few centimetres between them. You squint, smile overtaking your lips before you can stop it. “Was just a little bit funny, though.” 

Steve laughs, head tipping forward to hide his rosy cheeks. He peers back up at you through his lashes, a new twinkle in his eyes. “You’re a little minx, aren’t you?” 

“I didn’t plan it!” You splutter out, defending yourself. “It was- it was just a freaky coincidence.” 

“A freaky coincidence?” Steve’s brows hike up an inch. His smile turns into a smirk and he rocks up on the balls of his feet, then steps back in closer to you. “Mmhm. Totally believe you.” 

“Doesn’t sound like you do.” 

“Weren’t you the one who told me to trust in the stars? You should take your own advice, really.” 

He leans in so close that you think he’s about to kiss you. He doesn’t— just hovers an inch from your lips. 

“I’ve found it works astoundingly well.” He says, voice husky with how low it is.

You shiver a bit, delight zinging up your spine and try your best to not to smile too much because, well — as you find, it’s awfully hard to kiss someone properly when you’re cheesing out, grinning too wide. 

Good thing, neither you or Steve seem to mind very much.

#dear god #i hope this doesn’t crash in burn #it’s been…. how many months since i posted an x reader fic #5 MONTHS!!!! #GOD IM SORRY #i had this idea…. november last year #took me so fucking long #anyways… if u liked nine facts…. maybe u like this? #except no enemies :( #ruby writes steve #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fluff

[blackbackedjackal]

[insert movie title]

#thinking about him #I took this pic a month before he was diagnosed with cancer #I took him to the vet the day Blue was born #i miss him so much #my baby boy #Lobo #jackal's pets #he's absolutely fathering her from the great beyond #she has so many of his quirks and mannerisms #she knows just how to make me laugh like he did

[carolrain]

an invitation to say yes to

Hi, so NaNoWriMo starts in a week, and maybe you’re thinking about doing it? (Or maybe you’re not, but keep reading.) I thought it was a good time to share this thread by Linda Holmes. She wrote it on Twitter on October 31, 2022. I read it a year ago and have thought about it often since.

She starts by saying that sometimes NaNoWriMo (or just using the occasion of NaNoWriMo to do your own thing) is useful because some of us have to psych ourselves into writing. She says, “If you have to bet yourself, trick yourself, bribe yourself, that is fine. Especially at first.” Then:

I just really like the framing she’s giving us—to think about invitations to write, and to think about saying yes.

#writing #nanowrimo #national novel writing month #please let's all appreciate how much effort #and how many brain cells #it took for me to remember to post this #51 whole weeks after I screenshot it

[soranker]

hi….! any chance we can see your art process ? it’s fine if not! i was wondering if u do a sketch before your lines or you just skip directly to lineart? your art is very beautiful!

HI!!! AUGGHHHJHH THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH T__T my art style is kinda simple imo so my process is pretty bare-bones ^^;; there's not rly much too it!! it also kinda changes depending on how uhhhh lazy im feeling in the moment HAHA

probably around half of my drawings are straight to line art bc they're rly just doodles or things i decide to draw without any planning (but also im kinda impatient so i try to skip the sketching step if i can LOL...). but if i DO have a specific pose in mind for a drawing, i'll start with a sort of mannequin sketch or loose pass, then depending on how messy it is, ill either do the lineart pass on the layer on top or duplicate the sketch and then clean it up.

and then my coloring process is not sophisticated at all i just create a new layer and then paint bucket tool away LMAOOOO

here's an example of a drawing where i did sketch first ^_^

#clarification on the second image: usually when i make changes to the sketch i just go straight to lineart rather than doing a second pass #which i what i did for this drawing. i just like to minimize how many sketch passes i do (again bc i am impatient and lazy lol) #but also bc personally i get frustrated when my lineart doesnt turn out like my sketch so the solution my brain came up with is to.. #...skip sketching i guess LMAO;; #idk if this was helpful or not AHGHAAH my process is rly nothing fancy and there's not much to show T_T; #ALSO OMFG IM SOOOOOO SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG TO RESPOND TO GKJFHDJG THIS WAS SENT LIKE A MONTH AGO I THINK T_____T #i saw this when i got off the plane coming home from a trip and then i remembered it a few days later #but then in the middle of writing my answer i left to eat dinner and forgot to save so when i came back the page refreshed #and deleted everything i wrote T____T AND THEN IFORGOT ABT IT AGAIN

[wikiangela]

seven sentence sunday

tagged by @diazsdimples @theotherbuckley @hippolotamus @daffi-990 💖💖

after waaay too long - the alive shannon fic is baaaack! my beloved <3 finally got through a scene I was stuck at (more or less, it'll get improved when I edit lol) and made quite a bit of progress! so here's a few sentences from the ladder truck bombing! (Buck's POV has been fighting me so hard, Eddie's is always easier bc he just takes over and does his thing, and Buck apparently doesn't wanna cooperate with me lol) this is very rough and needs lots of editing - but at least I'm finally making progress so here it is 🤣

prev snippet

___

It all happens so quickly he barely remembers the actual explosion. But he knows that there’s a split second, somewhere between sitting in the ladder truck, and lying on the ground, covered in blood, ears ringing, in excruciating pain and unable to move his leg – there’s a second between all that where he genuinely thinks he’s going to die. That’s it, the end, without so much as a chance to say goodbye to Maddie, to Bobby, to Hen and Chim, to- to Eddie and Christopher. To anyone he loves. For a second he’s convinced he’ll never get to talk to any of them again, that he won’t get to talk to Bobby, eat his delicious cooking during a family dinner, that he won’t get teased by Hen and Chim for something dumb he does for a hundredth time in a week. That he won’t get to see his sister heal and find happiness and love again, that he won’t get to see Chimney treating her like she deserves, like Buck knows he will. He’s scared he won’t get to hang out with Eddie, the best friend he’s ever had, that the short time they had together was all he’ll ever get. That he won’t get the privilege Eddie’s already granting him of watching Christopher grow up, of being there for him whenever he’d need him. A split second, and he thinks his life is ending, that’s it for Evan Buckley, leaving this world forever, not even leaving a mark behind, probably getting forgotten by everyone but his family, sooner or later even them. For a second he thinks, maybe it’s okay, maybe it’s better that it’s him than anyone else.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @diazass @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @911onabc @housewifebuck @rogerzsteven @watchyourbuck @underwater-ninja-13 @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @pirrusstuff @wildlife4life @nmcggg @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @king-buckley @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @hoodie-buck @jeeyuns @steadfastsaturnsrings @puppyboybuckley @weewootruck @honestlydarkprincess @buckaroosheart @spagheddiediaz @disasterbuckdiaz @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @exhuastedpigeon @jesuisici33 @rainbow-nerdss @malewifediaz @spotsandsocks @giddyupbuck @fortheloveofbuddie

#the alive shannon fic #seven sentence sunday #shannon diaz #buddie wip #buddie fic #wikiangela writes #my writing #fic snippet #my wips #took me like 2 months to get back on track with this fic lmao #left a half finished scene and multiple half finished paragraphs with so many notes and highlights #and it was painful to look at how disorganized it was 🤣 #shes back tho 😍 #ngl im never as nervous to post snippets as with this fic 🤣 and also never as excited haha

[girlgerard]

mommm white people on tumblr are misconstruing my posts again despite the post being entirely about how important wording is + how i don’t feel comfortable posting large statements when i haven’t fully processed them yet.

#if you want to put me on a blocklist for loving netanyahu you can! i don’t! and no matter how many times i get told i do #i still don’t! #i literally said i hope his balls get cut off IN THAT POST #i don’t know how that read as unclear. #perhaps there are no hidden genocidal messages behind the wording of my tumblr posts - who knows! #when i said i cared about every single civilian living in that land i meant it. if you decide that i actually don’t that’s not my problem #if you somehow took my words and decided that what i really meant is that i’m a government bootlicker who loves murder #you can do that all you want. it won’t make it true and it won’t help save any lives #i was in ramallah and jerusalem six months ago. have you gone? #if the answer is no maybe think about that for a second #moreover if you’re viewing this from a purely racial or religious framework you have no idea how to navigate this subject #i don’t view israel and palestine through which government i want to back. why the fuck would i do that #palestinians and jews and everyone else in that land is who i care about. i care about gazans #if that’s not enough of ‘a side’ for you i don’t really think there’s much of a conversation to be had. #do you think i wake up every day NOT thinking about gaza? do you think i wouldn’t feel nauseous every second of every day because of gaza? #do you think that within everything i’m saying that the most logical conclusion would be to post all of my thoughts on tumblr? #because if you think any of that we’re not going to have a productive conversation. i don’t take kindly to being told my own emotions

[cloudcountry]

thank you to the three people that tagged me in the twst author spotlight ^^ irene, siren, and sapphy, thank you. i read what you said about me and i was very touched. i didnt think i would gain so many friends in such a short period of time, and you all deserve to be recognized for your contributions to the twst community!! :D

EVERYONE LOOK AT MY FRIENDS.

@tinyletterz, who has a beautiful soul and amazing writing. i've known her since my baby days on quotev writing for a fandom which shall not be named, and it's so such a pleasure being her friend. she writes twst x reader content and has a gorgeous series about flower languages that i think about a lot. thank you remy for helping me get accustomed to tumblr, you're the og!!

@shkrmpp, who was my first mutual that i'd never met before here. thank you for asking about jellyfish and being such a bubbly presence on my dash. shrimpy writes x reader content and creates adorable art!! their hair dye series with the leech twins is super cute and i find myself thinking about teh floyd part in particular very often ^^

@fukashiin, with the prettiest themes and the gorgeous art style. winou CONSISTENTLY writes absolute bangers that make me so giddy. this one in particular is one of my favorites, and her writing style reminds me of a soft summer breeze. she's such a bubbly person and its so fun talking to her, even if we don't talk often. ^^ she's one of the three people that keeps my deuce content afloat.

one could say many things about the beloved @hisui-dreamer!! from the way she adores her friends to teh way she writes, rinna is always soft and sweet. she radiates comfort and is such a soothing person, i feel so safe around her. she writes x reader content and every single piece is its own masterpiece. she's one of my closest friends on here and i wish nothing but the best for her every day.

@merotwst, who has a bucnh of adorable oc content (on @meromessy !!) and writes x readers!! ellie in on haitus right now takinga well deserved break. <3 but she writing is amazing and i am FLOORED whenever i see her art!!! it's literally so gorgeous and i don't understand how she does it. its crazy. how is so much talent in one person.

@siren-serenity is not only a lovely author of x reader content, but also a lovely friend. ^^ siren also has an oc named melody who is so cool!!!! she was the pastor at my wedding and fought TOOTH AND NAIL for that position LMAO love u renren!!! she really writes azul SUPER WELL and im so happy to have met someone so calm and soothing to talk to.

@officialdaydreamer00, aka nutmeg, is a rascal. an absolutely rascal but they're really the best. they have a yuusona with LORE and a bunch of really creative & cute events!! seriously nutmeg, nobody does it like you. if you want to see our favorite twst boys in strawberry dresses or recieve a pair of cute earrings, irene's blog is the place for you!!!

@the-v-lociraptor has STELLAR art. she was one of my firts mutuals on twst tumblr and i was terrified of talking to people but her vibes were very much "i am nice you dont need to be afraid" and sniffling scared me was like "OKAY I CAN TALK TO YOU" LMAO but yeah. she draws people so,,, full. thats the only word i can use to describe it. they just look s soft and alive and its really so amazing. i love her art so much!!

@siphoklansan is another artist!! i think about the art she drew from loona's heart attack with twst character weekly basically. it has been stuck in my brain since i started following her. sippy, its trully beautiful how you mix your culture and your art together. i remember you talking about it when you were drawing fairy gala stuff and it was just stunning. please keep doing what you're doing!! i hope your hiatus proves restful <3

@ceruleancattail is one of THE most creative writers i have ever met on this platform. every time i check out their account theyre talking about a new au or doing something different. they write x reader stuff and ar ethe biggest cater kisser ever (even if they wont admit it hehe!!) their writing is so refreshing, if that makes sense. their butler au is so goofy whaahwwahwah

@moonlit-midnight has the prettiest writing style :((( hannah is literally so sweet and it shows in everything you can find on this blog. THIS BLOG HAS PLATONIC FICS TOO!!!! DID YOU KNOW THAT?????? and even better, they're inspired by hannah's own friendships :((( literally the most wholesome thing. you can find x reader's here!!!

@iseethatimicy is an x reader writer and fellow azul kisser!!! she writes some really cute stuff for oour favorite silly little cephalopod AND AND AND AND HAS SOME OCS!!! THATA ARE SUPER COOL!!!!! shimiko and icy are both so cool and interesting 9EVEN THOUGH IM VERY SHIMIKO BIASED AAAAA I LOEV SIREN TROPES !!!!!)

@ryker-writes IS SO KIND. he gave me the sweetest set of flowers for his garden event :(( i still think about them and aaaaa i havent forgotten when he fought me over me being cool LMAO so goofy wahhwaawh!! HIS OC JAXON AND RIDDLE ARE LITERALLY SO CUTE :((( he writes x reader content & makes oc content!!!

@totallymem3 draws occasionally and omgggg meme's art is gorgeous. HAVE YOU SEEN HER DRAW AZUL. her art is so soft and its honestly adorable :(( meme is such a nice mutual too!!! like i met her on anon a while ago we've been besties ever since fr. HER ART REMINDS ME OF SPRING GO CHECK IT OUT PLEASE!!!!!

@z3llous is SO TALENTED!!!! another mutual that im liek WOW how do you exist??? he creates the most stunning twst fanart :((( THE OCTAVINELLE BIAS IIS SO REAL AND SO SO OBVIOUS BUT WOW.....WOW IS IT GOOD. zell is also a game developer and if you like cute little kitties and adventure games you should totally try it out here!!!

@cecilebutcher MAKES THE BEST OCS. creator of igor and saver of the universe. im not kidding igor saved the universe IDC WHAT YOU SAY ITS CANON TO ME. cece i sliterally the sweetest and soososososo creative i am eating up every crumb of igor content i get fed. OM NOM NOM. ofc junto is nice too and hes so sweet!!! GAHH you just put so much love and care into yoru ocs its so admirable :((((

@ang33333333l is another azul kisser that i became mutuals with a while ago!!! dolls love for sebek and azul is very sweet to see and her yuusona fauna is adorable too!! she also draws her yuu and characters sometimes!! :D she doesn't have a lot of oc content up on dolls blog yet but im looking forward to seeing more!! >:D

@leonistic deserves the most underrated writer of the year award. soru writes x reader content and is another super sweet mutual of mien (I KNOW IM SAYING THAT A LOT OKAY.) she writes aroace content and its literally feeds me. seriously. their aroace azul content makes me giggle and kick my feet and GAHHHHH !!! plus they have the patient to do matchups which is crazy and i love them for that ^^

@rains-asleep is the nickname master because he calls me straubs and thats such an adorable nickname :(((( HIS WRITING IS SUPER CUTE AND IT GIVE SME SO MUCH SEROTONIN (they write x readers btw!!!!!) they recently hit 500 followers (CONGRATS AGAIN!!!!!) and they also write for haikyuu, mha, genshin impact, and obey me!!!

@shinysparklesapphires is an artists that has a lot of cool ocs!! i believe navi was the first one i was introduced to and he's such an icon ^^ sapphy is also really into precure and produces a lot of content for the fandom!! i have yet to finish the precure series she recommended to me but its good so far and laura is the best so true!!

@datboredpencil has THE most STUNNING art. if you want idia x cater content this is DEFINITELY THE BLOG FOR YOU!!! each piece has so much love poured into it and i swear. YOURE ALWAYS LIEK "its a work in progress" BUT IT STILL LOTS SO LOVELY :((( YOUR USE OF COLOR IS JUST SO MUAH!!! CHEFS KISS!!!!!!! I ADORE IT

@twistwonderlanddevotee makes really pretty backgrounds!!! i actually used the isaac one she made for my private account AND ITS SO CUTE I LOVE IT I WANT TO EAT IT SWALLOW IT WHOLE MUNCH ON IT SHAKE IT AROUND LIEK A DOG TOY ANYWAYS. i am very normal about sofia's backgrounds. PLEASE GO CHECK THEM OUT its literally so unique?? like who else makes backgroudns liek sofia. Nobody.

@queen-shiba has an open inbox everyone!! you're welcome to send in requests!!! ^^ the queen of savanaclaw makes oc content for chuki, a really sweet kid taht deserves all the cookies in teh world :((( ALSO!!! she has an au for the tsavo man-eaters which is super cool!!! :O she passion for lions and tigers really is admirable and its nic eto see her talk about them :3

@beeirdos-buzzing-bogaloo has a gift when it comes to making ocs!! thule remains my favorite of the ones he has talked about because his design is just so neat!!! I LOVE THAT HIS NICKNAME FROM ROOK IS "MONSIEUR STARGAZER" :((( you have so many ocs that i havent even heard about yet...so im super curious to see what else you put out!!!

@dove-da-birb IS SUCH A GENIUS. they're one of my closests friends and their writing is SO BEAUTIFUL. they're also kidn of a little shit though so watch out /aff tehy write x reader content and draw sometimes, although i dont think theyve posted any of them. ^^ dove is SUCH a delight i promise you'll have fun every single time you talk to them. their energy is infectious and im genuinely really glad im the main target for their chaos. i would not have it any otehr way.

@ashipiko has such delicious art!!! the colors are always so vibrant and the way she draws is so unique. truly, a staple of both the twisted wonderland and as3! fandoms!! her energy is always upbeat and cheery, its hard not to smile when youre talking to her!! truly the biggest ace kisser on thsi platform (probably in the world too hehe)

@shyhaya writes for a myriad of fandoms!!!!!! hayami writes an azul thing for me that made me lose my mind IT WAS SO GOOD. PLEASE check out this blog. you wont regret it. requests are open!! ^^ even twst content aside, im sure you'll find something you like sich haya writes for so many fandoms!! talk about multitalented :3

@thehollowwriter has so many gems. quinn writes every character in twst so well, teh writing is so immersive and just ughhhh MUAH!!!!! every piece with azul in it is such a banger and it makes me giggle and kick my feet :3 LITERALLY THERE IS SO MUCH X READER FLUFF AND ITS ALL GOOD ITS A CRIME I DIDNT FIND THIS BLOG SOONER.

@cyath, who has some of the PRETTIEST art i have EVER seen. they draw stuff based on my fics all of the time and i adore it so much. examples of their art can be found here, here, here, and here. do you understand what i mean. do you get it. their art style is SUPERIOR and i ADORE IT!!!!!! they truly have so much talent like damn save some for the rest of us hello!!!!!

@crheativity writes twst x readers!! she's a beginner writer so PLEASE PELASE SHOW HER SOME LOVE!!! right nwo she has some heartslabyul content that i havent gotten around to reading yet but i am SUPER excited to go through them when i get the chance!!! rhea is super fun to talk to hehe <3

and lastly, @jade-s-nymph who organized this whole thing!!! rubia is on hiatus right now but i've seen some of her projects and a few of the things she's written and they're all really good!! there's a lot of x reader content on her writing blog and self indulgent nymphleech content on her personal blog :3

#twst spotlight #whew its finally finished!!!!! #honestly you all are so talented #thakn you so much for talking to me ^^ #you all have been the cause of many smiles and tons of laughter ove the few months ive been here #no fandom has left such a positive impression on me in so little time #you guys are people to remember #every single one of you #and its sappy as HELL i know LOOK AWAY IF YOU DONT WANT SAPPY AUBURN #but teh way you all support each other and talk about things and connect is just so effortlessly beautiful #im so happy that ive been accepted into such a lovely group #im in awe of you all every single day #i hope you never lose the courage and motivation to do what you love #writing and art and anything else aside #i hope you can always find your people in every creative space you enter and i hope ever day you remember your worth!!! #its so amazing how our brains work and give us so many ideas and how we can just put those into words on onto a canvas for other people #this took forever so i will go take a break now but seriously you guys are all amazing

[atlas-of-galaxies]

An unusual one for ya,

Shunsuke and Alice at quick draw

absolutely stellar combination anon

#crawling out of the askbox covered in blood. do not ask how many months this took me to answer. ANYWAY #ask #shunsuke hayasaka #alice yabusame #yttd #atlas art

[weirdcat1213]

Shout out to all the people who watched the 3rd episode and thought tonis died

#im kinda ashamed about how many months it took me to realize that #that wasnt the case #im not alone right???? #trigun #trigun stampede #tristampparty

[warblercore]

the glee club go into the woods; you won't believe what happens next...aka. glee as musicals continued!!!

close-ups below <3

ID's are all in the ALT text :)

#i THINK this idea came from @mdverse but i lost the ask so i can't be 100% sure so correct me if i'm wrong but if not ty for the idea!!!! #sorry it took so many months i just couldn't figure out how i wanted to draw it :/ #i haven't fully cast them but i wanted to have all the characters there so the only casting im sure of is cinder-rachel and red riding tina #my art #glee as musicals #glee #glee fanart #rachel berry #tina cohen chang #am i justified in tagging the others even though they aren't very visible...? #santana lopez #brittany s. pierce #brittana #blaine anderson #kurt hummel #quinn fabray #mercedes jones

[lover-of-mine]

what if one of these days i go and change your name

Pairing: Evan Buckley and Eddie Diaz (911)

Word Count: 2.8k

"So what? Edmundo Diaz wants to marry Evan Buckley. It's not a new development. The urge just had never been as intense as it is right now as he steals glances at him but it's always been there. And he can't get the smile off his face over the way Buck has his last name across his back and hasn't thought to remove the jacket even though he doesn't need it anymore now that he's out of the building and he's not actually supposed to be working." or Buck runs into a fire while off-duty, Eddie gives him his turnout once the 118 responds, then proceeded to spiral about how he wants to marry Buck.

read it on AO3

#911 fic #911 fanfic #buddie #buddie fanfic #writing #otp: you don't need to pretend with me #how many fics should i post before i stop tagging #i have no idea how to tag fics #aoksoaksoaksokas #anyway here the turnout fic #finally #it only took me 4 months lol #911fics

[schlawa]

It’s a (translated) quote from my favourite bands live banter, where the drummer asked if anyone still needs a guitarist and I just thought the vibe fits them so well

#one piece #monkey d. luffy #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #luffy #its not meant to be lawlu but go ahead and tag it as such if you like #i never understood the hate about tagging posts after a ship #so #lawlu #i guess sdfgdfg #my art #op #why does law wear his wano clothes but luffy doesnt? #well great that you didnt ask #i do not know how to draw an arm at an angle like this so i took any opportunity to not draw it #shitpost #after an actual artwork i of course had to go on hiatus just to come back with a meme i started a year ago #i had so many personal problems going on in my family which resulted in me having so much paperwork to do #i still work on it for almost 3 months already #anyway dont mind me here in the tags #i have some more wips going on for a while now #some are half finished so i might come around to upload more this year

[braceletofteeth]

Inwoo Failing to Kill Dongsik: The Series

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 - PART 4 - PART 5

#psychopath diary #yook dongsik #seo inwoo #shim bokyung #1x16 #gifset #* #// #yes yes I know it took me five months to get this part done #but Inwoo is to blame to! #*points at the first half of the set* Too many failures!!! #how was I supposed to include all of it 😩😩 #it took me some time to decide what to do and then have the energy to actually try it out #I hope if anything it looks funny and not weird 🙃

[inhuman-obey-me]

this may not be exactly your kinda thing, but i'll throw this in your askbox just in case, for the 2.7k+ follower event~

may i have,,, 🌚 but with mc as the focus, and satan in the background. i just want... mc getting. a littol angwy. a littol evil.

satan is so proud of you but you - you can't believe you did this, this is crazy, no, really - but he insists, it's fine, it's fine...

come on now, you didn't expect to make pacts with seven demons and come out unscathed, did you?

Apologies for how late this is!!! Thank you for your patience. :')

Now, this isn't quite your request, only in that we like to write MCs that are open to the darker side of things...but hopefully this still kinda works for what you were looking for!

"I want to release the darkest side of me." - Satan/MC

You hadn’t meant for it to go this far. 

That’s what you keep telling yourself, fingers curled inward so tightly that nails dig into the skin of your palms. You can still feel it – the power that lies just beneath your skin, the power that has sunk deep into your bones. So easily can it rip through the sinews, so easily can you be consumed. 

It was a skill you had to learn, this control. You were no mere human, after all, but a sorcerer powerful enough to rival and even surpass Solomon the Wise himself. A human who had quite remarkably made pacts with the seven rulers of Hell, seven of the most powerful creatures in existence. A human who, with one simple command, could bring all seven of them to their knees at once – all without breaking a sweat. 

So why did these lesser demons think they could best you? Taunt you? Harm you? 

Foolish bastards, you think. Pathetic.  

And this wrath, fire at your fingertips, is a rage that brings out its Avatar’s sharp and menacing grin as he watches you from the shadows. Eyes of viridian glowing in delight, he slowly brings himself to your side, steps echoing against stone. 

“Well, MC. That was quite a show. I didn’t even need to step in.” He whispers into your ear, hovering just over your shoulder. “...How are you feeling?” 

“Fantastic.” The word slips through your lips without second thought. “I didn’t even realize you were here.”

“Oh, I only showed up a few moments ago. I felt a strong emotional pull through our pact and thought you might be in danger – but obviously, you handled yourself quite well.” He surveys the scene before you with a hum of approval. There, amid broken furniture and ash-covered walls, were the mangled bodies of three demons. Not quite dead, but a far cry from good health. 

“I’m…not quite sure what happened.” It starts to dissipate, that flame and fury that had set your chest ablaze. “The rage just took over at one point and I couldn’t help but use my magic to get them to leave me alone.” You close your eyes, telling yourself to breathe. “All I could think about was wiping those smiles off of their faces and breaking their hands for trying to touch me.” 

“And you’ve done just that. An excellent job, I have to say.” He cannot hide the glee in his voice, the satisfaction he gets from feeding off of your wrathful outburst. But then, his smile falters. “...Are you okay? Are you hurt?” 

“I’m fine, I think.” Slowly opening your eyes, you look down at your hands. Traces of blood and soot cover your skin. “You know, it’s been strange, ever since I’ve unlocked my magical ability and learned to tap into my power. Your power.” Flexing your fingers, you turn to fix your gaze on Satan. “It’s been overwhelming, having to learn so much in such a short amount of time. And there are times I want to release the darkest side of me, all of the parts of me I’ve forced deep down inside to be a good person, a good human. It’s tempting. To just … let go.”

“You’re in the Devildom, love.” Satan smirks, bringing himself to stand in front of you. A hand goes to cup your chin, his gaze intense as he looks deep into your eyes. “You’re allowed to let go sometimes. I encourage you to.”

“Well, of course you do.” A lighthearted scoff, you slightly shake your head with a smile. “But, how the hell am I going to explain this to Diavolo?”

“You won’t.” Satan places a light kiss on your cheek before releasing your jaw. Now with an arm around you, he leads you out of the room with a smug grin, throwing one last glance to your victims with delight. 

“Leave it all to me.”

#we're all for MC showing others just how strong they are >:) #sobs sorry again for the many months it took to get to this #the all encompassing [mod] cosmos #obey me #obey me! #obey me swd #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me satan #om! satan #obey me satan x mc #obey me satan x reader #obey me fic #obey me drabble #writings #2700 follower celebration #elsecrytt

[loafbud]

I.... I DID IT?????

I ESCAPED FROM BOOK 6 CH 66-67 HELL!!!!!

I CAN FINALLY SLEEP OMG IM NEVER REVISITING THOSE CHAPTERS AGAIN

#U DO NOT UNDERSTAND HOW LONG THIS SHIT TOOK ME....... #It took months to beat (raising the spells + levels on many cards) #i spent all day grinding in alchemy #got the last team to spell level 5 (w/ two at lvl 7) #IM FUCKING DONE BRO 😭😭😭😭😭 #now i wait for the 1 hour charge thing omg gOODBYE CHAPTERS 66-67.... NEVER AGAIN #twst #twisted wonderland #twst book 6 #vinyl #fursona #my oc #orignal character #loafbud #digital art #loafbud art #screenshot