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#but the last time i wrote one of these i only got a 75 (not a bad grade but i could do significantly better) bc. and i am not kidding.
silverislander · 4 months
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prof said congrats for writing up a proposal so early i am going to get a good grade in. well this is literally going to be graded. but yk the meme
#i really hope its decent proposals are really hard for me to write. i never really understand how much im supposed to say#also i dont plan stuff in advance! i hate drafts and proposals why cant i just jump in and run w my topic#i dont Know exactly what im going to cover just yet can i get back to you once ive covered it#levi.txt#i spent One page just opening the two page proposal so. i know it needs some cleaning up#but the last time i wrote one of these i only got a 75 (not a bad grade but i could do significantly better) bc. and i am not kidding.#i wrote a several page intro abt the themes of a story i was super pumped to write. and forgot the /plot characters and title/#a 75 was honestly generous. that prof already liked me and knew my work so i got very lucky#also i just think the guy im working with for my essay is so cool and i want to impress him bfhshsk#ive taken 2 classes with him before he is so smart and so enthusiastic. i was 1 of only 3 who was there for every class both times#everyone whos helped me has been so cool and very nice to me i want to do a good job and prove that im as capable as they think#and also jesus fucking christ ive worked so hard for this degree PLEASE#if i dont get honours im walking into the forest laying down and letting the fae take me as they will#side note: i have 1.5 movies left (its late and im finishing army of the dead tomorrow + watching evil dead rise)!! thats so exciting#theyve (mostly) been really fun and i feel like i have a really good general idea of where im going w my essay now#the movie eras are starting to kind of organize themselves into coherent themes in my mind#i think its smth along the lines of racism/xenophobia -> social change -> satanic panic -> action and militarism -> prejudice/bias#and i actually think were in smth of a thematic reckoning w zombies rn as a culture that im excited to discuss!!#for so long weve accepted that zombies arent people but weve really been starting to interrogate that since abt the mid 2010s#w tropes like searching for a cure (not just a vaccine) or movies like warm bodies or evil dead where you can truly turn back#and im really excited to see where the future takes the zombie genre!!
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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year
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Hiiiiiiiii hdisjxksjdj I have 2 ideas for the fic writing request! Feel free to choose whichever one you'd like to do or both! 💝💝💝 love youuu
1: Steve's parents meet his new friends and are shocked at how happy he is. + they see that Steve and his friends all wear a similar-style friendship bracelet made by the kids.
2: platonic stobin with the song lyric (brother by Kodaline: I took out the chorus bc it doesn't match here):
When we were young we were the ones
The kings and queens oh yeah, we ruled the world
We smoked cigarettes, man, no regrets
Wish I could relive every single word
We've taken different paths
And travelled different roads
I know we'll always end up on the same one when we're old
And when you're in the trenches
And you're under fire I will cover you
If I was dying on my knees
You would be the one to rescue me
And if you were drowned at sea
I'd give you my lungs so you could breathe
we'll go deeper than the ink
Beneath the skin of our tattoos
Though we don't share the same blood
You're my brother and I love you that's the truth
We're living different lives
Heaven only knows
If we'll make it back with all our fingers and our toes
Five years, twenty years, come back
It will always be the same
ANOTHA ONE (BUT ACTUALLY TWO)! This first one for some reason got me fucked up. I wrote so much, then 75% of the way through, I hated it and deleted it and started over. The second one was a lot easier, but I did get a little carried away (could have gotten MORE carried away if I didn't have a tiny bit of self control left). ANYWAYS YAY FOR FINISHING ONE OF MY CLASSES WITH A 94 AND BEING ABLE TO POST THESE! LOTS OF LOVE BABEYYYY - Mickala ❤️
------------------------------------------
PROMPT 1
“Where is it?”
Steve was panicking.
Okay, panicking might be dramatic.
It was just a bracelet.
But it wasn’t just a bracelet, actually.
El made them for everyone. They all matched, but she’d added everyone’s initials to theirs so it was still special for each of them.
When she gave Steve his, he hid in the bathroom and cried.
Despite being the King for years, he’d never had any friends like the kids and Robin.
Eddie either, but he’d already passed the line of “friends” into “love of his life”, so he didn’t count.
So when he looked down while he was cooking and realized it wasn’t wrapped around his wrist the way it had been for months, he started to worry.
When he couldn’t find it in the kitchen or the path from the kitchen to the car or the car itself or his bedroom or his bathroom, he started to feel a weight settle in his chest.
He wouldn’t give up yet though. He’d gone outside to check the chemicals in the pool this morning, maybe it had fallen off there.
Just when he was about to go look, he heard a car door slam. Then another one. Then keys at the front door.
Of all the times for his parents to decide they live here, they choose now? When he’d abandoned the casserole he was making on the counter and turned most of the place upside down in the last hour looking for his bracelet?
He took a deep breath, ready to try to brush aside the panic to make sure they didn’t find his behavior unacceptable or suspicious.
“Oh good. You’re home.”
Anne Harrington’s voice used to make Steve relax. She wasn’t ever a great mother, but she was at least here until he hit middle school. Her presence, her voice usually made his dad remain calm.
But when she started going away with his dad, her voice became a dreaded sound.
Instead of it easing the tension he held in his back and jaw, it caused the tension to arrive faster.
Richard Harrington was the root cause of all of that tension, though.
“What’s going on in here?”
Steve tried to make himself appear smaller, that’s what his dad liked from him, and that’s what kept him safe.
“You caught me as I was making dinner. I haven’t been able to clean up yet.”
“Is that a casserole?”
Anne was walking up to the counter, peering down at the casserole dish as she spoke.
“Yes. I’m having friends over later.”
He was at least. Before his parents made a surprise visit.
Just as he checked the clock to see if he had time to call everyone to cancel, he heard more car doors.
Fuck, how late was it?
6:30. Shit.
Of course the one time Eddie gets everyone here on time is the one time his parents decide to show up.
El had joined this campaign at the insistence of Eddie and Will, so he knew she’d notice his bracelet was missing.
He couldn’t let her close enough to see.
No hug hello. No sitting in the room while they played. No hugging goodbye.
He could do that.
El barged in the house first, excitement palpable before she even made it into the kitchen.
“Who the hell is this?”
The voices of the others could be heard walking through the door as El froze with wide eyes.
“Mom, Dad, this is El. She’s Chief Hopper’s daughter? I babysat her.”
They looked at him like he’d grown three heads.
“Steve! Tell Dustin that I’m supposed to be the fun parent!”
Steve’s face paled. Eddie.
Every possible reaction his parents could have ran through Steve’s mind as he actually did start to panic.
Suddenly, everyone from Hellfire was standing in his kitchen. With his parents.
And an uncooked casserole.
He reached for the bracelet on his wrist, then remembered he lost it, and then he felt the sting of tears in his eyes. He couldn’t cry in front of his parents.
He walked out of the room, ignoring the confused stares and murmurs from everyone, including his mother.
He walked up the stairs, to his bedroom, then fell on his bed.
No tears fell, but they were there, waiting. For what, he didn’t know.
He could hear footsteps outside of his room. A pause. A gentle knock.
“Steve?”
His mother.
She opened the door slowly, probably just as nervous as he suddenly was.
“Can I come in?”
“Sure,” he managed to choke out.
His mom sat on the edge of the bed, leaving enough space between them that he couldn’t feel any warmth from her, which is how it’s always been.
“We probably should have called.”
It wasn’t an apology, just a statement. More for her than him since she was feeling just as awkward about this as he was.
“Those kids are the ones you babysat?”
“Yeah.”
“They’ve gotten quite big, haven’t they?”
Steve had no idea what she was doing, but he could answer her questions.
“Yeah. Don’t really need me anymore.”
“They’re here, though.”
“I’ll send them home,” Steve started to get up, but his mom’s hand on his shoulder kept him from standing.
“Don’t. We just dropped by to grab a few things. We have a flight in a few hours.”
Ah. So they weren’t staying. If he hadn’t been home when they got here, he probably never would have even known they were here.
For some reason, that hurt. Even after all these years, all these times being left alone.
“They must really love you.”
Her voice sounded different, shaky. Like she was actually trying to show an emotion other than passiveness or disappointment.
She was holding something, he could see her rubbing her fingers along whatever it was.
And then he caught the bright pink.
His bracelet.
“Where did you find that?”
“It was on the ground by the front door. Your father didn’t see it, but I picked it up. Thought it may have belonged to a girl you brought home. Then I saw what all those kids were wearing and saw your initials on it.” She handed him the bracelet and he felt relief wash over him. “You’re lucky to have them.”
He looked at her. Her lips wobbling, her eyes watery, like she was actually happy for him, or maybe a little sad about something else.
Regret. That’s what that look was.
“I wish I had known that you had so many people who love you. I wish I had been here to see you find happiness. You didn’t have any for so long.”
She’d seen it then. She’d seen the way he had to fight loneliness despite being surrounded by people at school. She’d seen the way his face dropped every time they told him they were going on another business trip, how he started to hate that they even bothered to come home at all. She’d seen the way he filled his home with idiot teenagers who barely respected him or the house, who just wanted a place to drink away from their parent’s prying eyes.
She’d seen it and let him feel that hurt anyway.
She still didn’t say she was sorry.
But he thought about if he even wanted that now. If he could even believe it or accept it coming from her.
Probably not.
He took the bracelet from her and wrapped it around his wrist, tightening the string until it was snug.
“I didn’t have anyone for so long because you didn’t seem to think I needed anyone. I don’t know who I would be without them. They’ve done more for me than you or dad ever have, and that’s why I’m the happiest I’ve ever been,” Steve sighed. It was exhausting that he even had to say this. “You’re right, though. I am lucky to be loved by them. This bracelet is just one of the physical reminders of that. Thanks for finding it.”
A single tear fell from her eyes, but Steve wasn’t going to let himself feel bad. She could have done this years ago when he needed it most.
Now he had those kids downstairs. He had Eddie. He had Robin. Joyce and Hopper. Claudia. Even the Wheelers.
Suddenly, Eddie was standing in his door, a panicked look on his face.
“Uh, sorry to interrupt.” He wasn’t. “You may need to come downstairs. Erica’s kind of doing that thing she does with your dad.”
Steve’s eyes widened while his mom just looked confused.
Then he heard it.
He jumped up and ran down the stairs, Eddie close on his heels.
“...and another thing! This house isn’t even decorated nicely! You have all this money, right? Why don’t you spend it on things that actually look good? Or a couch that’s actually comfy. How am I supposed to sleep on a piece of plywood with itchy fabric on it? Have you ever tried to sleep on that couch? Probably not since you can’t be bothered to come home.”
Steve put his hand on Erica’s shoulder while he glanced over at his father’s red face. He obviously wasn’t going to do anything to a child, but he didn’t want to take any risks, not with the kids he loved so much.
“Alright, everyone in the dining room! Get your game setup while I put the casserole in the oven.”
Erica glared up at him, but relented when everyone started moving towards the dining room.
Eddie watched as she left too, but he remained next to Steve.
Steve turned to face his father, who was certainly going to have a lot to say to him, but would probably wait until he was alone.
“The neighbor told me you had kids coming and going from here all the time, but I thought they were losing it. Especially when they said that the Munson van was parked in the driveway most nights. I guess they aren’t losing it, after all.”
His tone was outwardly calm, but Steve was well-versed in the silent rage boiling underneath.
He was also well-versed in how his father refused to make their family look bad, even if it was just a bunch of kids.
“They needed a place to play their game. I have plenty of room. It keeps them out of trouble and happy. I get to have people in the house. It’s a win win.”
Steve wasn’t usually this bold with his father, but he knew he was fine with Eddie next to him and his family in the next room.
His dad grunted and looked down at the bracelet wrapped around Steve’s wrist, and the matching one wrapped around Eddie’s.
Steve could feel his brain trying to figure everything out. He didn’t say anything to help.
“I’m sure your mother mentioned we’re just grabbing some things and leaving,” Richard finally said.
“She did.”
“Make sure the house is clean before we get back.”
“Which will be…?”
“Within the next few weeks.”
“Sure.”
They weren’t gonna be back in a few weeks. They probably wouldn’t be back for months, if ever.
Steve noticed that they barely had any of their personal belongings left in the house. He noticed that they had been slowly moving out of the house since his senior year of high school. He noticed that they rarely got mail delivered anymore, and that they didn’t send the gardener or pool cleaner by unless they were coming home.
He knew they had another house in upstate New York, one he’d never even been to and only found out about because his dad’s secretary mentioned it the last time he’d called looking for them.
He figured if they were coming back in a few weeks, it would probably be to tell him they were selling this house and he had to leave.
Which was fine.
He looked down at his bracelet as his dad left the kitchen, tugging on the end of it to make it even tighter.
He had people who would help him if he got kicked out. He had family.
-------------------------------------------------------
PROMPT 2
In 1987, Robin Buckley leaves for college.
They knew it was coming, her gap year truly could only be a year, after all.
Steve tried to put on a brave face.
He was proud of her, of course. She got into Purdue on one of the hardest academic scholarships to get. They’d let her, even encouraged her, to take the gap year, postponing her scholarship for her new start date.
She was leaving tomorrow and Steve didn’t know how to say goodbye.
Eddie was helping with some of the last minute packing she had to do, but he was trying to stay out of their way, give them time and space to enjoy what time they had left.
Suddenly, Steve knew what he needed to do.
“Eds?”
“Hm?”
“You’ve got supplies for tattoos right?”
“Tattoos, plural? Going from none to multiple in one go may not be a great idea, sweetheart.”
Robin was watching their interaction with curious eyes, but wasn’t saying anything.
“No, just one for me. But maybe one for Robin too?” He pointed the question at her, giving her a small smile.
“What? A tattoo? Now?”
“If you want. Just something small for us to have before you go.”
Maybe it was a stupid idea.
It’s not like she was leaving the damn country. He’d probably see her once a month at least.
But he was scared that she’d get to college and find a lot of smart friends who could keep up with her and find fewer reasons to visit here, and then Steve wouldn’t be able to convince her to stick around and he’d be alone.
A tattoo would at least ensure she was thinking of him, too.
“What would we get?”
“What about an ice cream cone?”
“Or a scoop?”
Eddie laughed. “You really want me to tattoo ice cream scoops on your bodies? Forever? You know these are permanent.”
Steve and Robin giggled together and nodded.
So it was settled.
They finished what they had to, waving a quick goodbye to Robin’s parents and letting them know she’d be back late. They reminded her they were heading out early in the morning and she ignored them. When they got to Eddie’s trailer, the nerves sunk in for both of them. Not enough to avoid getting the tattoos, but enough to make them hold hands while Eddie prepped the tattoo gun and ink for Steve.
“Alright, where do you want it big boy?”
He pointed to his ankle and looked at Robin, who nodded back at him in agreement.
So Eddie began.
Steve flinched at the first few lines in his skin, but got used to it quickly.
Robin held his hand and watched, talking to him about random things that she thought of that they could do when he visited her on campus.
Eddie finished quickly, smiling up at them both.
When he cleaned up and set up the new needle and ink for Robin, Steve held her hand and talked about all the things he was excited for her to do when she left. He even joked that she’d probably find a girlfriend in her Women’s Studies course.
“I mean that class is just gonna be a bunch of queer women, you better make a move.”
“You don’t know that!” she exclaimed while rolling her eyes.
When Robin’s tattoo was done, they smiled at each other. Robin kissed Eddie’s cheek in thanks and Steve kissed his lips, whispering a quiet thanks against them.
Even if Robin moved on, they’d always have this.
—-------
In 1991, shortly after Robin managed to graduate from school, Steve and Eddie had a massive fight.
They’d never had one before, not like this.
Not one that led to Eddie walking out and staying with Wayne.
Steve’s first call was to Wayne, making sure Eddie was safe.
His second call was to Robin, begging her to come stay with him for a few days so he wouldn’t have to be alone.
He hadn’t been alone in his house since the fall of 1986 and it was suddenly bigger and quieter than ever.
She quickly drove to him, knowing he wouldn’t have asked if he wasn’t struggling.
When she arrived, Steve sobbed into her shoulder for hours, not even saying anything, not really able to. She let him, didn’t offer any words of comfort, just running her hands through his hair and making sure he kept breathing in and out.
Eventually, she asked.
“I thought you guys were doing great. What happened?”
Steve shrugged, but he knew. He knew that for a few weeks now Eddie had been working a lot more, that Steve had been working a lot more, both of them trying to save money to buy a house that wasn’t a constant reminder of everything bad in their lives. He knew that neither of them were giving each other the attention they deserved. He knew the tiny little snippy comments they both were giving each other kept adding up into a form of resentment he didn’t think either of them could’ve been capable of. He knew when he missed their date because he forgot to call when he found out about the overtime he was scheduled for, it would lead to a pissed off Eddie.
“We’re just under a lot of stress right now.”
“Worse than the literal end of the world?”
“No. Just. Real life is kind of harder sometimes. Is that crazy to think?”
“I guess not. But you guys love each other more than anything. This is just a bump, right?”
“I dunno. He’s staying with Wayne for a bit.”
“How long is a bit?”
“I don’t know, he didn’t say. Wayne said he’s barely seen him.”
“Maybe he just needs to cool off. Bet he’ll be back tomorrow.”
But he wasn’t. He wasn’t back that week at all. Robin had to go back to campus to pack before they locked her out permanently, so he was left to work and come home to an empty house.
It sucked, point blank.
But Wayne called him every night before he left for work, and Steve knew that at least Eddie was safe, still going to work, still eating.
The day Robin was supposed to be back, Eddie showed up. He let himself in, which was a good sign. He sat down next to Steve on the couch, another good sign. He sighed, not a great sign, but maybe not a bad one.
He looked at Steve with tears in his eyes.
“I wanna come home.”
Steve let out a sob and folded into Eddie’s chest, Eddie wrapping his arms around him and kissing the top of his head.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Sh. I’m sorry too, Stevie.”
When Robin arrived, she saw them asleep on the couch, thankfully fully dressed, and smiled to herself. She made her way up to the guest room that was basically hers and went to sleep, content with knowing that she’d gotten Steve through.
—--------
In 1997, Robin lands her dream job offer. Things move quickly. She’s supposed to fly to Italy in three days, but she’s stuck on how to tell Steve.
Steve and Eddie moved to Boston when she did, insisting that they wanted to live a city life. Now that the kids were all gone, they had no reason to stay in Hawkins.
They sold the Harrington mansion, then their own home, and found a nice two bedroom apartment on the outskirts of the city. Steve worked in a bakery, so his hours were a bit all over the place depending on the season. Eddie worked as a sound mixer at a record label, which wasn’t his dream job, but close enough that he was happy.
Robin had been working as a tutor for years, enjoying the one on one with teenagers who needed the extra help in their high school foreign language classes. It didn’t pay much, but it was enough.
But she applied to be a teacher, part of a study abroad project for prospective Boston University students that reached 24 different countries. She didn’t really expect to get it, her experience and education level not quite where most of the other applicants were.
But she’d impressed the interviewers with her knowledge of multiple languages, not just fluency in one. They expressed immediate interest and asked her which country she’d prefer.
She told them she preferred Italy, but hadn’t expected to get her first choice.
She did.
And now she had to tell Steve she was leaving the country for at least a year.
She called Eddie first to warn him. He was excited for her, of course, but nervous about how Steve would react.
They frequently joked that she was the side chick in their relationship because Steve would cancel plans just to hang out with Robin. Even as grown adults with grown adult responsibilities, Eddie had to remind them to get some sleep during sleepovers like they were teenagers.
He thought it was adorable.
He told her to come over for dinner, she could talk to him then and he would be there as backup.
So she did.
And it went okay at first. Steve was so excited for her, he kept talking about how she could send real Italian chocolate like he got on a vacation with his parents when he was young.
But then it seemed to slowly sink in what this meant.
No more random meetups in the city for coffee or drinks, no more dinners here at their apartment, calls would have to be scheduled in advance because of the time difference. No hugs or cuddling for a year.
“Maybe we could try to come visit in a few months?” He looked at Eddie hopefully.
“Maybe, sweetheart,” Eddie responded with a small smile.
He knew their finances weren’t bad, but a trip to Italy certainly wasn’t something they were prepared for. Plus, taking that much time off of work would be difficult. They didn’t have another sound mixer right now, which meant if he missed more than a day or two, they’d pretty much have to close up shop.
“I mean, I’m sure with what they’re paying me, I could probably come visit during the Christmas break,” Robin added, though she didn’t sound so sure.
Eddie squeezed Steve’s knee, sensing the tears he was trying to hold back.
“We’ve got time to figure it out.”
Nothing got planned for a while though, because Robin was busier than expected.
She worked six days a week, and on the seventh day, she was usually still grading papers or setting up meetings with the other teachers in the program.
Steve felt like he was fighting constantly for her attention, which wasn’t fair to think because she was just doing her job.
Eddie knew he was getting into a depressive episode about a month in.
He called Robin while Steve was asleep, coming up with a plan to get him out of it before it got bad.
“I’ve got enough money for the flight, but we need somewhere to stay. I think I can swing five days off for both of us if I tell his boss what’s going on. But I can’t do it for at least a month.”
“Okay, just stay with me. I have a pull out couch. My neighbor brings me so much food all the time, I’m sure she’ll wanna feed you both too. I still have to work, but you can explore while I do. Have you guys even taken a real vacation before?”
“Does visiting Dustin count?”
“No.”
“Then, no.”
The plan was in place. Steve remained sad, but Robin tried to call as often as she could.
But almost exactly one month later, Steve came home to Eddie packing luggage. His heart stopped for a moment.
“What are you doing?”
Eddie smiled at him, walking over to wrap his arms around him.
“Packing for our trip.”
“What trip?”
“To Italy.”
Steve’s heart started racing.
“What?”
“Gotta get you to see your girl, don’t I? She’s got a couch with our name on it.”
Steve cried for the next hour, leaving wet kisses on Eddie’s cheeks and lips as he helped pack.
When they arrived in Italy, Robin was at the airport holding the chocolates Steve so desperately wanted, but he didn’t care about in that moment.
He was back with his platonic soulmate.
—------
Being engaged wasn’t that important to Steve or Eddie. They couldn’t legally get married anyway, so what was the point of the whole song and dance of asking and wearing a ring?
They’d belonged to each other for so long, it wasn’t necessary.
But in 2003, Eddie changed his mind.
It happened because Robin said something about how marriage equality was looking more likely, like maybe she could actually marry her girlfriend who followed her back from Italy.
And Eddie couldn’t have Robin get engaged before him.
So he found a ring, just a simple gold band with a single diamond. He got it engraved to say “scar on my heart” which was the title of the first song Eddie wrote about Steve for Steve.
He made plans. He called the kids and made them swear not to say anything.
He called Robin and asked if she could be there.
But he should have known Robin couldn’t keep a secret.
“I’m just so excited!”
“For what? It’s just ice cream at the park,” Steve said curiously.
“It’s not just ice cream! It’s a big moment!”
And then she realized what she said. Eddie glared at her.
“What’s the big moment?”
Eddie sighed. He could just say Robin was being dramatic, but Steve wouldn’t buy it, not with the way she looked guilty of murder now.
“I have something to ask you.”
Maybe Steve would leave it.
“What is it? Why does Robin need to be there? Just ask me now.”
Guess not.
“Since I can never have plans that work, fine.” Eddie pulled the box out of his pocket, sending one more glare at Robin, who already had tears in her eyes. He started to drop to one knee but felt hands on his arms.
“Wait! Are you proposing to me?”
“Uh. Trying to, yes.”
Steve started laughing. Not really the reaction he was hoping for.
Then, he pulled a box from his pocket.
Robin clapped and cheered from the side while Eddie just stared in disbelief.
“What?”
“I called Robin to come this weekend so I could propose!”
“But. I called her to come!”
“You both are dinguses! Eddie called me an hour before Steve did if it matters, but you both are ridiculous.”
They looked at each other and laughed as Robin’s words sank in.
“I guess I know your answer then,” Eddie said.
“Ask me anyway.”
“Yeah, I came all this way to see proposals, give me a show!” Robin exclaimed loudly.
“You just need ideas for your girlfriend.”
“Shut up.”
Eddie turned to Steve, got down on one knee, and smiled up at him.
“We’re living in a time where we might be able to actually get married and there is nothing I want more than to be able to call you my husband. I’ve loved you for nearly 20 years, and I know I’ll love you more in the next 20, and the 20 after that. What do you say, big boy? Wanna marry me?”
Steve was crying and Eddie could hear Robin sniffling to the side.
“Yeah, I do.”
Eddie placed the ring on Steve’s finger and kissed him so hard, Robin groaned.
“Okay, my turn.”
Eddie stood up with a smirk as Steve got down on one knee.
“Eds, I’ve never been that great with words, but you’ve loved me anyway. Even when I may not have deserved it, even when it may have been hard, even before I was ready to love you back. I’m not going anywhere no matter what the law says, but I want you to wear this so you know I’m all in. Will you be all in too?”
Robin was crying harder now, but Eddie didn’t care.
He nodded and let Steve place the ring on his finger.
Then they both pulled Robin into a hug, all of them crying into each other’s shoulders.
It made sense that she was here for this. She was Steve’s other half, Eddie was just an addition, and he was fine with that.
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dustydoop · 6 months
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HeyHeyheyhey
Idk if this is allowed but:
Opinions of a HC abt Scout being a stubborn Bastard when sick and will keep going until he faints/passes out?
Well, I guess you could say I liked this idea cause I kinda wrote a little thing.
Aggressive ringing came from Scout’s nightstand, was it morning already? Scout laid it bed, letting it ring for a while before mustering up the strength to shut it off. As an arm reached out from under the blanket, Scout shivered. 
With his blanket still wrapped around him, he pounded on Soldier’s door next to his room. “Hey man, did you do something last night, it’s freezing up in here!” He shouted, why did that knock out his breath? 
Soldier opened the door, still in his nightwear. “I did no such thing, Scout. I was, in fact, not here at all.” 
Scout raised an eyebrow at him. “Then where wer- Never mind, I don’t even want to know.” He muttered as he stumbled back to his room, nearly falling over as he did so. Scout dropped the blanket, facing the mysterious chill. Maybe he just needed to freshen up. 
Nope. 
Not even the boiling hot shower got rid of the overall sense of grime Scout felt all over. He glanced at the clock, he really should be going out to the community kitchen for breakfast by this point. 
He walked out of the hallway of rooms, still weak in the legs, and entered the loud kitchen. Immediately, the smell of coffee and whatever Engineer was cooking on the stovetop hit Scout. 
“HURAG-” 
The eight mercenaries in the kitchen stopped in their tracks and whipped around to see what made that noise. Scout snapped up straight as their eyes locked on him. “Hey… Fellas? Lovely weather we’re having,” He said with a fake chuckle after swallowing the gag he felt in the back of his throat. 
Scout lowered his baseball hat in an attempt to avoid eye contact as he walked to his usual spot next to Sniper. Sniper gave him a concerned look as he drank his coffee, but kept to himself for the time being. 
“Hey, kid, how are ya?” Engineer slapped Scout on the shoulder, “You want any of this? I made extra just in case.” He gestured to the skillet he was using. 
Now, typically, Scout was never one to pass up on Engineer’s cooking. Heck, he wasn’t one to pass up on any sort of free food, but a home cooked meal from such a good cook? He’d have to be either crazy or sick to sick to say no. 
Unfortunately, he was definitely either of those. “It looks great, Engie, really it does, but I- I just can’t right now…” Scout trailed off. 
Sniper cocked an eyebrow at him. “You alright, mate? You look awful.” 
“Hey!” Scout snapped back, “Like you got any right to insult me, Snipes.”
Engineer sighed. “I hate to say it, but Mick’s right, boy. You look a whole lot paler than usual and you’ve been shivering this whole time.”
“Well if someone didn’t turn up the air conditioning, maybe I wouldn’t be like this!” Scout said, desperate for an excuse. 
Engineer went to the nearest thermostat. “Sorry, kid, it's around 75 degrees, it definitely ain’t cold. C’mere,” He said as he put the back of his hand to Scout’s forehead. “Woah Nelly! You’re burning up, kid. You need to take the day off, rest up.” 
Scout slapped Engineer’s hand away from his face. “I don’t need to rest up, and I don’t need you going all mom mode on me, I’m like 27 for crying out loud. I ain’t taking the day off.” 
“You sure that’s a good idea?” Sniper asked, “I’d take a break if I was you.” “Well, you ain’t me. Listen, if it gets any worse, I’ll just have Doc gimme a little of that magic crap from his healing doodad, alright?” 
Medic swung around from his conversation with Heavy. “Ack, no can do! The medigun only works on injuries, not diseases.” He said, of course he was eavesdropping. 
“Well fine then!” Scout said as he stood up far too fast, “I’ll just go on with my day like always, I’m fine!” He marched out of the kitchen to prepare for the day’s work. 
A couple hours later, the whole team was ready for battle as soon as the doors opened. Scout’s head pounded as the metal room reverberated with shouts of the other mercs messing around before battle. 
Slowly, the doors opened, alleviating the echo and giving Scout some much needed fresh air. However, fresh air could only do so much against illness. 
He ran, just like he always did. Easy enough, right? Even with his calves feeling like jelly, his legs ready to give in beneath his weight. Blurs of structures and team mates flew past, made worse by his watery vision. Gosh, he just needed to shake whatever this was, he had a job to do. 
Soon enough, he found a corner to catch his breath in. He knew the strategy the team had agreed on that time, he just needed to run in, start shooting when he got the signal from Engie, and then run off to where phase two started. Nothing too complicated. 
“Just run to the point,
My head might explode.
Just run to the point,
Did I just trip on nothing?
Just run to the point,
It’s so cold out here. 
Just run to the point, 
I can barely brea-”
Everything went black. 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Spy snuck around the back of the battlefield, preparing his disguise. He opened his kit to grab a mask, but something caught his eye before he could put it on. 
Scout was running to the point, as he should, but goodness was his form horrible. Yes, Spy was never one to compliment Scout, but at least he recognized that he was a decent runner. However, this was just awful. He was breathing out of his mouth like an inbred pug, swerving more than the one time Demo got a hold of the company van and his arms drooped at his sides. Spy even caught him tripping on nothing! 
Something wasn’t right. 
Spy peered around the corner, curious about what would happen. Scout took a few steps into the clearing, right in front of BLU team and collapsed. He would get back up, right? He was just being stupid, clumsy Scout again. 
Spy waited a second for him to pop back up, but he never did. In a flash, he remembered the conversation Scout had with Sniper and Engineer that morning. Maybe he truly was unconscious. Without thinking, Spy ran out to where Scout was, sprawled across the dirt path. 
“Get back! Get back, you cowards!” Spy snarled as he rushed out into the open, aiming his revolver at the line of enemy mercs. All of the mercenaries on the field stopped what they were doing, Spy was never in the middle of the battlefield, much less to help Scout. 
Spy took a few deep breaths before grabbing Scout and slinging him over his shoulder, revolver still outstretched. He backed up against a wall and made his way back to base. Once there, he placed Scout down on a spare cot and gave him the first blanket he saw. 
He reapproached his team, now reconvening to go over plan B. “Gentlemen, we never speak of this again, agreed?”
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f1-giuki · 1 year
Text
Ao3 Masterlist:
Hello readers *in James May's voice* and welcome to the masterlist of the fics I wrote/ I am writing! There are playlists and song recommendations for each fic!
I hope this post will be understandable and not too ugly!
1. A Sunday Kind of Love series: an ongoing series of fics set in the Emilia Romagna countryside, tons of fluff. They can be read alone. playlist.
1.1 Hearts of Gold : 9.4k words, summer fic. playlist.
Plot: One late afternoon in August Charles sat on a very pretty round bale, eating a slice of watermelon, white sunscreen on his face, cursing himself for having stained his last clean white t-shirt. He was having an unexpectedly good summer break, for someone with his bad luck (his fiat panda was holding on for dear life under the sun, much like his Ferrari F1-75, so this might be a stretch). To be honest, being on holiday in the Emilian countryside shouldn't have been his first choice of vacation, but he needed something different, something unusual that could take his mind off of racing for a while. But he needed a distraction, not a way to forget, so he chose to stay close to Maranello, his second home, but just in another province.
And something different he found indeed, someone rather than something. Someone with blue eyes and the constant need of sunscreen.
1.2 Moka Pot Mondays : 4k words, blurbs and slice of life. soundtrack.
Plot: The Italian countryside is the setting, Summer break the time and Lestappen are our main characters.
1.3 Cosa Sarà? : 9.2k words, end of summer break AU. playlist.
Plot: Charles sat on the side of the dry canal, in the field opposite to that which held his first kiss with Max. He would have sat with the Dutch in front of their field, but a tractor harvested it one afternoon and now only pointy golden thorns populated that lonely field. It felt like a prelude to a new chapter. Life goes on, like that song says.
And so Charles turned around and watched the alfalfa field and smelled the little purple flowers from a distance, complicit with the wind. The Monegasque was a nostalgic and a romantic person, the Regency era would have loved him dearly, and that field contained all the shades of the memories he held dear during his holiday. From the green of his old bike to the different shades of purples that tinted the fresh fruits he ate, passing from the blue of his lover's eyes.
That little field was going to be embroidered in his heart, like the hand on the small of his back, or the mischievous grin on Max's lips.
1.4 September : 8.5k words, set during the September European triple header. playlist.
Plot: August came to an end, some say sipped away like a bottle of wine, and with it ended the summer break. The Formula 1 season got back on track, for the last European races. This however didn't stop Max from tightly planning confessions, weird coming out moments and some unfortunately needed therapy sessions.
Luckily for him Charles Leclerc, his stubborn Charles, had other plans, such as casual homoerotic times in hotel rooms surrounded by fans, getaway cars to eat sandwiches and sheepish heart-eyes.
And maybe, with a lot of food, support from their stupid friends and some ABBA songs, maybe the two idiots will be able to finally say those three little gigantic words.
1.5 you're as beautiful as my home : 8.1k words, the fall and winter vibes are finally here friends, playlist.
Plot: The 2022 F1 season ended and Charles couldn’t stand the loneliness of his flat without Max or the flights to Italy inside grey clouds bringing rain around. So he decided to keep himself busy, having fun in Max's plane, causing the Formula One world to wonder if he could be a queer icon during podcast interviews and buying a house in Italy.
Max is right there by his side, befriending old people, providing perfectly timed songs, unwanted opinions about paint colours and homemade French fries and cakes, mostly enjoying the colourful chaos of Charles’s mind, with his cheeks red from Daniel’s teasing.
Or a set of stupidly romantic episodes starting from the 2022 Japanese GP
1.6 I would never take my eyes off of yours : 25.2k words, the April break au, playlist.
Plot: Max doesn’t exactly love spring. Well, we should say he doesn’t like certain aspects of it, like the insane amount of pollen flowing around in the air, next to bees, flies and all the other insects that exchange the blond mop of his hair for a flower bush.
What he loves about spring, though, is the warm sun, the spotless blue sky, cut only by the white traces of planes, and trees in full bloom. He also loves when Charles drags him to countryside festivals and dinners, when he composes new things on the piano, when Charles fights him after suggesting he should bleach his hair and especially when he gets on his knees.
Max should really change his mind about spring... 
2. Homeward Bound : 74.4k words, 12 chapters, completed, Magic/Urban Fantasy AU. each chapter has a playlist, c1, c2, c3, c4, c5, c6, c7, c8, c9, c10, c11, c12.
Plot: Max Verstappen liked many things, like playing the piano, jazz music, Star Wars (Mark Hamill, comrades, say no more), his new flat in New York City, Daniel's cuisine and Charles Leclerc, the cute ghost that flies in his living room. He didn't know if that made him a necrophile or something (Sebastian says it doesn't, it's just a confirmation of his being a bisexual disaster).
Max moved to New York to follow his dream of being a jazz pianist but he would have never imagined that such a transatlantic move would imply the discovery of a magical world he always lived in but always ignored. Or that he needed to fight people with an enchanted sword to stop the fucking Apocalypse and being able to date Charles, but yeah, another day in the New York City life.
3. The Sting series: what happens when top-tier Interpol detective Charles Leclerc and world-class thief Max Verstappen (or as he's known in the field: The Dutch Baron) cross paths?
3.1 You could hang it in the Louvre : 10k words, one shot, art theft AU. soundtrack + bonus.
Plot: Charles, a young Monegasque, is one of the top detectives for stolen artworks in the Interpol organisation and hates with a borderline homoerotic passion the Dutch Baron, an art thief who keeps on ruining his career plans.
Max, a young Dutch, is one of the most wanted thieves on the globe and Charles’s archnemesis. He’s kind of an idiot, hence the idiotic nickname he chose for himself after his first big heist, the Dutch Baron.
What happens when Max’s new and biggest heist goes let’s-say-not-exactly-well and Charles sees his face for the first time?
3.2 Late night devil, put your hands on me: art theft AU, 6 chapters, completed. soundtrack
"Do you want to know what is more incredible?" Max asks, staring at Charles' full and round pecs without any shame.
"What?" Charles asks, enjoying how Max's cheeks get redder and redder as he licks clean the fork.
"Stealing the Nine Pieces of Eight, with me," Max says and Charles drops his fork in the plate.
"The Nine pieces of eight? Isn't that like a legend? The owner of those artworks is unknown…" The Monegasque asks, furrowing his brows.
Max grins and rolls his eyes.
"I know a guy..." Max says, pulling Charles close by the elastic band of his boxers.
or: World-class thief Max Verstappen asks Interpol Detective Charles Leclerc out on a date (to put on the world's most complicated heist ever conceived) but things never go as planned.
4. Red, White & Orange-Nassau : 54.9k words, 9 chapters completed, Royalty AU.
Plot: Diplomatic accidents don’t necessarily happen because of political feuds, sometimes they happen because a certain rockstar can’t shut his mouth at a royal wedding and the Crown Prince feels the need to obliterate his idiotic face, with those gentle green eyes and that stupid dark eyeshadow he always wears.
Said European crisis, as the New York Times put it, is more likely to happen if those in the room fighting are Charles Leclerc, frontman of rock band Moonlight, and Dutch Prince Max Emilian van Orange-Nassau Verstappen, the two eternal mediatic rivals.
But what if the fight ruins the short streak of good press the Dutch Royal Family got, what if suddenly the Dutch public opinion stopped liking Max, what if Charles’s reputation starts cracking too and with it his chances to win a Grammy?
What if this leads to a fake public truce and an equally fake friendship? Could this be the start of something at court or just the beginning of the end?
5. Fast and loose (and all that jazz) : 2.2k words, one shot, older sugar daddy Max, young sugar baby Charles.
plot: Max comes home from work and Charles, his sugar baby/young boyfriend, has a surprise waiting for him, a surprise made of red lace and dirty talk.
6. When I kissed the teacher (under the mistletoe) : 23.2k words, one shot, kid fic, uni professor Max, young dilf Charles. playlist
plot: The Monegasque waits for a second before inhaling roughly and speaking.
"No, but I need two favours, actually, Professor," Charles says, keeping his head on the desk.
"Uhm, yeah?" Max asks, scratching his head.
"Could I call you Max just for my next question?" Charles asks.
"Uhm, a little unorthodox, but if it's relevant to your point, yes, you may, Charles," The Dutchman answers, his pitch raised just a bit.
Charles bangs his head against the desk once again, nearly cursing before speaking again.
"What I wanted, Jesus, sorry, what I wanted to ask you, Max, was if you'd like to go out, on a date, with me?" Charles asks and he doesn't dare look at Max to see his reaction.
7. If you'd have been there (if you'd have seen it) : 3k words, one shot, sugar daddy Max, sugar baby Charles. Christmas special!
plot: Max comes home after yet another problematic situation at work and Charles, his sugar baby/young boyfriend, has prepared a very kinky and tight Christmas gift for him.
8. Something to give each other : 6k words, two chapters, completed, lestappen rule 63, landoscar, friends to lovers. Valentine's special!
plot: "You know, you should just talk to her, Max, you’d be surprised how a conversation can solve things!” Oscar repeats for the fifteenth time that day. He’s chopping some tomatoes up for his famous tomato soup. 
Max huffs on the couch, sadly hugging her stupidly big IKEA bear. They named it Carlos, just because Lando thought the IKEA employee at the register was called Carlos and was hot.
“That's rich, coming from you, Mr I pretend to be straight instead of telling Lando I'm bi because then I fear he'll friendzone me intentionally!” Max points out.
9. Evil under the blossoms : 11.6k words, one shot, lestappen, florist Max, detective Charles, fluff. playlist
plot: Max shows Charles the way to the plants lab. 
"That's where I think the robbery happened. These are the shelves where I keep the single flowers, this morning the tansies spot was empty. That is the greenhouse, but there are no missing plants in it. Then the rest of the lab here is a mixture of trees and different plants, the bushes that disappeared were there. I track in the register everything I sell, and I never miss a day, I'm-
"A plant nerd?" Charles jokes with a teasing smile. 
"A plant nerd, yeah..." Max answers blushing. 
or 
Max is a florist and one day flowers start disappearing for his shop. He calls Charles Leclerc, private investigator and childhood crush, to help him solve the case.
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harrisonarchive · 2 years
Photo
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Ringo Starr and George Harrison in 1961 (photo © Ringo Starr/National Portrait Gallery), and onstage at the Prince’s Trust Concert on 5 June 1987 (photo by Lynn Hilton/Mail On Sunday/Shutterstock).
Happy birthday, Ringo!
“You’re on holiday with [George] and every morning he’d say, ‘Oh, come and see the trees.’ ‘Okay, yeah.’ And then the next day, ‘Oh, come and see the trees.’ ‘Yeah, okay.’ And then, ‘Come and see…’ ‘I’ve seen your bloody trees!’” - Ringo Starr, Concert for George microsite
“[At a private reception] Starr was perusing the lyrics to one of the previously unpublished songs included in the new volume [I Me Mine - The Extended Edition], one that name-checked him, ‘Hey Ringo.’ After smiling at a rhyme about ‘my guitar sounds so bare/when your drums aren’t there,’ the 75-year-old drummer became choked with emotion by the next line: ‘Hey Ringo, there’s one thing that I’ve not said/I’ll play guitar with you till I drop dead.’ ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, his eyes misting and turning back toward his wife, actress Barbara Bach.” - Los Angeles Times, 24 February 2017
"I loved George, George loved me." - Ringo Starr, Concert for George, 29 November 2002
"This next song is called It Don't Come Easy. I wrote this song with the one and only George Harrison." - Ringo Starr, VH1 Storytellers, 1998
"So George taught me C, which was so damn hard. That’s how ['Photograph'] started. I love the sentiment of Photograph. When we did The Concert For George, I told the audience that Photograph now has a different meaning just because of the fact that George has left." - Ringo Starr, liner notes, Photograph: The Very Best of Ringo Starr
"['Never Without You'] is all about George. The song is still very poignant for me, and I tried not to do it on the last tour, but I had to do it because it’s a beautiful song and expresses what I felt for the man. […] He had just gone and I wanted to express my love for him." - ibid
“Ringo’s got the best back beat I’ve ever heard.” - George Harrison, press conference, October 1974
"George presented him recently with a special, leather-bound volume, which said on the cover, ‘Ringo Starr: greatest drummer on earth.’ Inside, all the pages were blank. ‘George told me to start writing, to fill it up.’" - The Beatles: The Authorized Biography, 1985 postscript
“I remember years ago Ringo saying to me he’d love to have a Number 1. And I said, What for? You are the Number 1. It doesn’t matter about the record.” - George Harrison, Q, 1988 (x)
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the-cult-of-russo · 1 year
Text
Poetic Tragedy (Part 12)
Pairing: Reader X Billy Russo
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Warnings: Cursing, angst, sadness, substance abuse, mental health issues, mentions of sexual assault. This one’s a little dark and not really in a violent way (okay some of it is lmao). Just more the themes explored, I guess? 
There's a little smut in this one for you guys looool
A/N: I can’t believe I was so inspired that I churned out a 12 part fic lmao. For some reason, I always struggle with writing long fics for Billy. For other fandoms, I can legit get up to an 80 part story. I think it's because I prefer writing OCs rather than reader inserts, but I know last I asked on here before I vanished that the Billy fandom prefers reader stories. 
The longest Billy fic I’ve done was Red, White and Blue which was a collab with @blanchedelioncourt and I think the only reason I managed that was ‘cause she was cheering me on the whole way and it was so fun writing together. That was also an OC story, not a reader one, and I did all Billy’s parts (which was ridiculously fun to do lol) while she did her OCs. I’d love to be super inspired to write a long ass Billy fic like I do with other fandoms. When I was away from this blog I wrote a 75 part Spike x OC story for the Buffy fandom lmaoooo 
—------------------
One year later
“You’re getting really good at that,” Curtis murmured and you would have seen his encouraging smile but you didn’t look up from your task. Your tongue poked out of your mouth in concentration as you carefully threaded the needle through the skin, watching the wound close before your eyes. You’d stitched that many wounds these past few months that your hands didn't shake when you did it anymore.
“Ow, Jesus!”
Your eyes snapped up to your patient then, dangerously narrowing in warning at him. One hand was settled on his bare chest, the other holding the needle above the wound which was just below the shoulder.
“Do you want this stitched up or not?” you asked with a short tone.
“Curt, I think your little apprentice needs to work on her bedside manner,” he drawled with a smirk.
“Careful, Billy, or I might stitch your mouth up next,” you gave him a saccharine smile and he looked at you like he wasn't sure if you actually meant your words or not. You heard Curtis snort from across the room as you continued with closing the wound, tying it off like Curtis had shown you before cutting the thread. He hadn't even hurt himself on a mission or doing something brave. Instead, he’d hurt himself because he decided it was a good idea to go up a ladder after he’d had a few drinks. 
“What d'you think, Doc? Is it gonna leave a scar?” he asked with a self-deprecating smile since he was already littered with them, his eyes looking over to Curtis. Your eyes narrowed again and you poked him scarily close to his wound and he yelped, looking at you in shock. You never allowed him to talk shit about himself, especially when it came to his scars. Curtis came over, inspecting your patch job and he hummed, smiling at you.
“You’re gonna put me out of a job at this rate,” he smirked, making heat creep into your cheeks at his praise. 
So much had changed in the year that passed and you barely had any remnants of your old life. You and Billy had taken things slow as you’d both agreed on and he’d been a little more understanding, yet not very happy, when you’d left again. He’d come to visit you at your alley or you’d go there for dinner sometimes and it was nice as you got to know each other better. Eventually, you started staying the night there and as time wore on, you spent less nights out on the streets. And now, a year later, you didn't sleep on the streets at all but you didn't really miss it. It had been a gradual thing that progressed as your relationship with Billy progressed. The more serious you both got, the less time you wanted to be away from him and the cold and desolate streets of New York started to lose their appeal. You were glad you’d taken it slow though as you knew it wouldn't work out the same if you’d just moved in here right away. You’d needed to wean yourself away from your old life and it had worked. Your dislike of violence had Curtis seeking you out to help him in the infirmary. There were even more to the ranks here since last year and he needed all the help he could get. You found you had a natural touch when it came to healing and helping people. You finally had a place and a purpose here that wasn't directly linked to being in a relationship with Billy. 
Once Billy had his shirt back on, he stood up and leaned in to peck your lips. It had taken a bit to get used to such intimate gestures and touches with him, a little beyond what you were used to. But you liked it and with time, it started to feel second nature. Without Curtis needing your assistance anymore that night, Billy laced his hand with yours as he led you out of the infirmary and back into the main area. Your eyes drifted around, taking in the Christmas decorations as a warmth spread in your chest. It would be Christmas the next day. You’d never celebrated it before, not even when you had a home because your parents didn't care enough to give you one. You hadn't celebrated it the year before either as it was just after Billy had been in hospital and it wasn't really on anyone’s mind. But this year, Frank had declared you all would be celebrating it as you all needed some holiday joy. He’d turned up the day before with Billy and a huge ass Christmas tree that you were pretty sure they’d somehow stolen. It was said tree that Billy had been decorating when he’d fallen off the ladder and onto a box of decorations, some of which were glass. The place looked magical all dressed up like this with all the twinkling lights and tinsel. You’d been amused at watching the badass recruits all falling over themselves to joyfully decorate the place. It felt like a very large family and you loved it, never having that feeling before. 
“What do you think?” Billy asked, smiling at you as you took it in. You’d been in the infirmary most of the day so you hadn't seen some of the decorations and hadn't seen the tree that was now done.
“It's beautiful,” you murmured, a wistful smile on your face as you turned to him. Billy had confessed to you that he wasn't a huge fan of Christmas. He, just like you, hadn't had one growing up really and then he’d found Frank and the Castles. The Christmases with them had been something else and after they died, he never wanted to have another Christmas. You had a feeling it had also been hard for Frank. You hadn't been sure why they’d changed their mind this year until Billy told you that he wanted you to experience the magic that he had with the Castles, that you deserved it. And you had a sneaky feeling Frank was thinking something similar to Karen, although she most likely had some experience with the whole Christmas thing.
“I’m glad you like it,” he replied softly, cupping your cheek as your hands bunched into his t-shirt. Your eyes fluttered shut as he kissed you, melting into him the same as you always did. When he pulled away, his dark brown eyes were warm as he gazed at you and his thumb stroked your cheek.
“I love you,” he murmured, rubbing his nose against yours sweetly. You felt the butterflies swarming your stomach as you smiled up at him. No matter how many times he’d said it, you’d never get used to it.
“I love you too,” you smiled, leaning up to give him another kiss.
Things with you and Billy hadn't been plain sailing. You were new to any type of relationship and he was new to one like this and you both still had issues. His head still wasn’t quite right and you didn't think it ever would be after the trauma it had suffered and you had a temper. There had been a few explosive fights with you, when Billy was being unreasonable or overbearing and you couldn't hack it. After being on your own for so long there was no way you’d sit there and take orders. The pair of you could be stubborn but with time, you’d learnt to be better at the relationship. Learned to give and take. You both struggled to admit when you were in the wrong, but knowing how much you could hurt each other usually made you both humble up pretty quickly. You hated when you said something hurtful and you’d see his face fall, hurt flashing behind his eyes, and you knew he felt the same about you. The fights had become less frequent with each passing month and things had settled down nicely. The fights would no longer be drawn out for days as you both refused to back down and only made things worse and instead, whoever was in the wrong would sheepishly approach the other to apologize. And you both weren't assholes about either. You didn't prolong the argument by refusing the apology. Neither of you got any joy when you fought. 
You moved away from Billy, walking over to where your polaroid camera was sitting on the table. It had been an early Christmas present off Micro since he wouldn't be there for Christmas, instead spending it with his family. He’d given it to you two weeks prior when you last saw him, telling you he was too excited to wait closer to Christmas to give it to you. You’d accidentally discovered your love for photography when he’d let you use one of his cameras and he’d told you once that you seemed to be able to capture the beauty in anything, especially in the city you were so fond of. He had a collection of cameras and you’d been fascinated by the polaroid as it printed the picture instantly. There was something special about the fact the picture couldn't be edited or changed, that you had one chance to get the shot you wanted. Because nothing was perfect and capturing that was what you loved best. You’d been overjoyed and moved beyond words by his gift and you’d made good use of it. You swiped it off the table, aiming it at the beautifully decorated tree. You snapped a picture of it, setting it on the table to develop as you took a few more of the recruits decorating and laughing with each other, a cute candid of Frank and Karen snuggling on one of the many beat-up second-hand sofas that were now here. The place had changed so much since you’d first come here. It no longer just felt like a base of operations where a bunch of people were staying, but it felt more like a home. There was even a little recreational area on the first floor too now.
“I like that one,” Billy hummed from over your shoulder, looking down at the one of Frank and Karen in your hand as it fully developed. 
“Should I put it on the wall”? You asked, looking at him curiously. His lips curled into a smirk as he kissed the side of your head. He took the picture from you and you followed him as he went to the wall near the rec area, tacking the picture up with all of the many you’d put up there. Everyone seemed to enjoy that wall and would often come to look at it, sometimes finding one of themselves they hadn't even realized you’d taken. Billy had been a little harder to capture at first. He’d point-blank refused to be photographed because of his face. You’d tried your best in your time with him to reassure him, to show him you loved him no matter if he had scars. You felt that it had helped as slowly over the two weeks that you’d had the camera, he’d started to allow you to take pictures of him. You wanted him to see the beauty that you saw in him too.
Later that night, everyone was hanging out on the lower floor just having a fun and relaxed Christmas eve. A group of you were sitting on or around the sofas as you all played charades and you found it hilarious how competitive Frank and Billy could be and how they’d get annoyed with each other. Billy was the one up and you were sitting on the sofa with a cup of hot chocolate in hand, courtesy of Annie who had made everyone one with some whipped cream and marshmallows. Some people had a splash of alcohol in theirs but you’d abstained.
“Movie title,” Frank asserted eagerly as Billy made a gesture. Frank was sitting on the edge of a sofa as Karen smirked at him. You still weren't even sure how to play the game but you found the whole thing amusing. Billy held up two fingers and Frank called out ‘two words’ and Karen snorted loudly into her cup. 
“First word, okay,” Frank muttered after Billy held up one finger. 
“Kill!” Frank barked after Billy made a motion like he was slitting his own throat. He shook his head, giving Frank an annoyed look and he’d only just started. 
“Dead! Murder!” Frank kept shouting out words and you slurped your hot chocolate and tried not to laugh at how eager he was about it all. Billy growled, looking ready to throttle him. He held up two fingers then and from what little you’d learned from watching them play, he’d decided to move on to the second word instead. He gestured to his crotch and you raised a curious brow as Frank looked stumped.
“Cock?! Dick?!” He yelled, Billy shaking his head every time and you almost choked on your drink as Karen started laughing. You couldn't believe how seriously they were taking it. Billy lay his hand over his crotch again before raising his hand, quirking a brow at Frank like it was obvious.
“The fuck is that supposed to be?!” Frank growled, only serving to make you and Karen laugh more and you weren't the only ones as everyone in hearing vicinity was finding it amusing.
“Goddamn it, Frankie! I was Die Hard, you fuckin’ moron!” Billy shouted, a vein in his neck bulging as he gave Frank a scathing look. 
“How was I supposed to guess that with that bullshit?” Frank huffed as he shook his head. 
“It was kind of obvious,” Karen murmured with a cheeky grin. Frank turned to her looking offended.
“You could have helped me,” he griped petulantly and she shot him a smirk.
“I’m not on your team, why would I do that?” she snorted.
“And you call yourself a Bruce Willis fan,” Billy scoffed, still glaring at Frank for letting the team down.
“When did I say that?” Frank asked, squinting at him slightly.
“Didn't have to. Was kinda obvious when you carried a picture of him overseas,” Billy smirked mockingly at him, making Frank gape at him.
“Like hell I did!” he yelled, standing up as he and Billy moved to stand toe to toe with each other, Billy’s eyes lighting up like he loved the prospect of a fight.
“Alright you two, sit your asses down,” Karen grinned, shaking her head as she shoved Billy over to you and Frank back in his seat. Billy was grumbling to himself as he sat with you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. You all stayed there for a bit longer watching some others play, it being a lot safer when Billy and Frank weren’t up and with their constant bitching at each other. 
“Should we give Frank and Karen their gift now?” Billy asked quietly from next to you. You looked at him, excitement radiating from every pore in your body. You’d been so excited about this that you’d pestered Billy to let you give it to them early. Seeing you practically wriggling where you sat with eager eyes, he chuckled before standing up, you following suit. 
“Hey, you guys got a minute?” Billy asked, tapping Frank on the shoulder as he interrupted their conversation. Billy moved over to where you were hovering, biting your lip to stop the smile from splitting your face as they walked over.
“What's up?” Karen asked, looking a little worried.
“Me and Y/N wanted to give you your present early,” Billy explained with a smirk, Karen and Frank glanced at each other for a moment before back at the pair of you.
“You sure? We can wait-” Frank started but you cut him right off.
“You’re not waiting! Come on!” you whined impatiently, earning a snort from Billy.
“Gotta come up and get it,” Billy grinned. They followed you both up the stairs, you and Billy sharing shit-eating grins as you got to your floor. But instead of going to the room you shared with Billy, you stopped outside of your old room. When you’d started to stay the night with him, it had been in his room and when you eventually moved in, neither of you really spoke about you having your own room as it felt pointless. Billy gestured with his head for Frank to open the door and he shot Karen a wary look before he pushed it open, walking inside with Karen towing behind him. You felt like you were vibrating you were so excited, you hadn't stopped being excited since Karen had told you the news a month before. It had been your idea and Billy had loved it. 
“Oh my god!” Karen cried out as you and Billy filed in after them. Your old room was now a rainbow-themed nursery, complete with a crib and all the furniture new parents would need and a bunch of stuffed animals. Karen was tearful, one hand over her mouth and the other over her stomach as she soaked it all in and Frank was blinking rapidly as he looked around. He turned to you and Billy then with a meaningful look on his face.
“You didn't have to do this,” he murmured, his voice sounding raw. 
“We wanted to,” you replied softly, giving him a smile.
“You know I’ll always take care of you, Frankie, no matter what it is you need,” Billy’s voice was thick with emotion and you knew this whole thing had been tough for both of them after the loss of Frank’s family. Frank sniffled with a smile, moving to grab Billy in a long hug as they muttered something to each other you couldn't make out. Karen took your hand, tears down her cheeks.
“Thank you, I love it,” she said sincerely, trying to muster up a smile for you. You squeezed her hand as you smiled back with a nod.
“I’m glad you like it,” you replied. She moved to hug Billy then and Frank rested his hand on your shoulder.
“I really appreciate this, we both do,” he muttered firmly, leveling a look at you that told you just how much he meant his words. The four of you hung out a little bit in the new nursery as Karen and Frank really took in everything they had now for the new baby. After a while, you and Billy decided to head to bed and Karen and Frank went back downstairs, not ready to turn in for the night. You were over the moon they liked their gift and you couldn't wait for the baby to be born. You’d never had family or friends to experience this with before and you found the whole thing exciting. 
When you and Billy got to your room, you stripped out of your clothes and changed into your pajamas, which were essentially just a t-shirt of Billy’s and some panties. You climbed into bed with a yawn before Billy, who was only in his boxers, got in beside you. 
“You excited for your first Christmas?” he asked softly, rolling to face you. You copied him, now facing him and smiling when he tucked your hair behind your ear sweetly. 
“I am, I’ve already been enjoying the festivities,” you grinned, making him smile. He leaned over, kissing you softly but it quickly became heated as he rolled on top of you. You felt desire shoot through you like an electric current as he pressed himself against you, moaning into the kiss and getting a moan from him in response. Things on the sexual side had been slow at first with Billy, given your history and lack of experience. It had taken you four months to feel ready to take that leap and he hadn't put any pressure on you. Not even letting his hands wander when you made out like a pair of horny teenagers so he didn't make you think he was pushing you. You were grateful for him to let you take the lead, to let him know when you were ready. And after four months, you had been. You had no idea how to initiate it though since you’d never done anything before and your times with Josh had you lying there like a lifeless doll. And being as blunt as you were and seeing no sense in dancing around it, you’d just told him how you felt. You told him you wanted to take the next step but had no idea what you were doing. He didn't make you feel stupid or embarrassed about it either. He was kind and caring as he guided you through everything as you learned to explore sex with him. Something that had once been negative to you quickly became something positive and you’d even tried some things with him you never thought you’d be into. Trusting him as much as you did, you never felt embarrassed about trying things with him as you learned about yourself in a way you’d never had the chance to before. 
His kiss was bruising and you lost yourself in it. You never knew which Billy you would get in bed, soft and slow or hard and rough, but that was half the fun. It usually depended on his mood and you were happy to go along with whatever because you liked it either way. A fun perk of having your explosive arguments would be the just as explosive make-up sex. He slipped his hand into your panties and started circling your clit with ease, making you gasp and he moaned against your lips. He had you writhing against his hand in no time, panting into the kisses he was showering you with. But then he moved away, tugging the shirt off you impatiently and pulling your panties down. He rid himself of his boxers before lining himself up for you, not feeling up to much foreplay tonight it seemed as he sheathed into you in one fluid motion. Your moans mingled together and he propped himself up with one arm beside your head as the other grabbed your thigh, hitching it up a little. He started thrusting into you, not quite fast but not slow either and you arched up to meet each thrust. The hand on your thigh slid up and then around to your lower back, angling your hips in a way that had a loud moan erupting from you. He kissed you desperately, your bodies entwined together and you felt the pleasure gripping you like a vice. He moved to kneel up then, his hands trailing over your breasts as he palmed them, his thrusts slowing for a moment. It was like the calm before the storm before his hands gripped your hips tightly and he started fucking into you roughly. Your moans got louder and more desperate, your hands coming above your head to the headboard, needing to find purchase on something as your body jostled with the movement. Each thrust felt like it had the air being forced out of your lungs in a needy moan. You felt your pleasure increasing, your body tingling all over as you listened to his groans, watched his face contorted in pleasure with his mouth slightly open and his eyes screwed shut. 
“Billy,” his name tumbled off your lips like a fervent prayer and he let out a dirty moan that almost pushed you right over the edge. He was over you again in a second, his mouth claiming yours roughly as he kept his punishing pace with you. You could barely kiss him back in your delirium, moaning wantonly into his mouth as your back bowed up off the bed. It felt like you exploded into a million tiny fragments as your release washed over you. He moaned sinfully against your lips, thrusting into you a few more times before he came with a harsh and rough groan. 
The pair of you lay there panting for a moment, his forehead resting on yours as you came down from your high. But then he was giving you a dopey smile, kissing your lips tenderly. You hummed softly into the kiss and when he pulled out of you, you felt the loss instantly. He flopped onto his back looking tired and you wasted no time in rolling over, laying your head on his chest. His arms came around you with no hesitation, one of his hands going to your hair as he stroked it softly. 
“I love you,” you mumbled tiredly into his chest. He pressed his lips to your head for a moment, his arms around you tightening.
“I love you too, sweetheart,” he murmured softly, making you smile against him as your eyes fluttered shut.
The next morning, you shuffled down the stairs sleepily with Billy by your side and a wrapped present in your hand. You’d been woken by Frank telling you both to get your asses downstairs. It had resulted in the sibling-like bickering you’d grown to be fond of between Billy and Frank since he’d walked right in and you had only a sheet for your modesty. But Frank had pointed out that Billy had walked in on him and Karen plenty of times. As you got into the main area, you saw a mountain of presents and smiled to yourself, seeing everyone milling around, eating breakfast or just hanging out near the big tree. Billy still had some of his money left over from his Anvil days, although it was slowly dwindling with no income to replace it and he was trying to be more careful with it. But he wanted to make sure every single recruit got a gift from him and Frank to show them they were appreciated. They’d sent Karen off with her investigative experience to figure out what to get everyone. All the presents were wrapped and had tags on and you wondered who the hell had managed that feat, having a feeling it was probably the machine also known as Karen. You spent the morning drinking coffee and nibbling croissants as you watched all of the recruits open their gifts. There was a warmth in your chest that seemed to be settled there, not moving since you’d come downstairs. Karen and Frank came over to where you and Billy were then, two wrapped presents in their hands.
“These are you for,” Karen murmured, handing you one as Frank handed Billy the other. You gave them a shy smile before you started to peel the perfectly wrapped paper and when you were done, you grinned. It was a beautiful dark brown coat with cream fur trim, some embroidered flowers along the bottom of it. It looked like it would fall past your hips. It had a retro vibe about it that you loved and you felt touched as your fingers danced along the fur.
“Thank you guys,” you said softly, beaming up at them. You didn't have a coat, you’d never bothered to get one and you didn't like the idea of Billy buying you one when you knew he was basically funding this place from the only money he had. You’d been using spare coats that were hung in a closet. 
“I thought of you as soon as I saw it,” Karen grinned, looking happy you liked it.
“Holy shit,” Billy breathed from next to you, sounding in awe. You turned to look at him to see a large knife in his hands, all black with a fancy-looking handle. He twirled it expertly before he shot you a dirty smirk and you felt your cheeks burn as you looked away quickly. While you had a distaste for violence, you found out only the week prior that you were pretty fond of Billy wielding a knife in the bedroom. You’d really surprised yourself with that one. 
“I fuckin’ love this,” Billy laughed, a bright smile on his face before he stood and grabbed Frank in a tight hug. Frank clapped him on the back before he moved away, eyeing the knife a little warily and you snorted. Billy then moved to hug Karen and you stood too. You still weren't much of a hugger with anyone other than Billy but you were slowly getting used to it and after the gift they’d just gotten you, you felt like it was a good moment. With Karen busy with Billy, Frank smiled warmly at you, moving over to grab you in a hug. He squeezed you a little before moving away.
“Welcome to the family, Y/N,” he murmured, making your throat feel a little tight. Karen wrapped her arms around you then, her hug a little longer than Franks. 
“Merry Christmas,” she smiled, pulling away. You felt a little overwhelmed and always conscious of your needs and knowing how you were feeling, Billy thanked them once again before moving you to sit once more. 
You and Billy sat there for a little longer, snuggled up together as you just enjoyed watching everyone have a good time. You kept wondering when you should give Billy his gift but he hadn’t mentioned anything yet and you were a little nervous so you just happily cuddled into him for a while. 
“Come on,” Billy murmured after a bit, pulling you up from your seat.
“Where are we going?” you asked, blinking up at him.
“The roof, get your coat,” he flashed you a smile and you grabbed his wrapped present before you grabbed your new coat, smiling to yourself as you put it on. It was so warm and cozy, you loved it. Billy grabbed his own coat, matching you slightly with the small amount of fur on his collar and you watched him as he tugged the hood from his hoodie out of it. He took your hand as he led you up to the roof. You’d both created a little area up here, like a little safe space just for you two. It had a sofa and a small table, some lights too. In the warmer months, you’d even camped up here much like he had set up for you the night before the Irish mob got wiped out and you loved it. The only thing you missed about being out here as you slept was being under the stars. You both walked to the sofa and sat down and you felt anxiety thrumming through you about your gift. You had no idea if he’d like it or not and with his moods, sometimes it was hard to predict how he might react. You wanted to get it out of the way so you handed him his gift first with a hesitant smile. He took it, slowly unwrapping it as your eyes stayed glued on his face for even the smallest of reactions. If things went south, you weren't above grabbing it off him and running back downstairs. Once opened, he was faced with a black velvet scrapbook and he raised a brow at you.
“Open it,” you encouraged, a nervous smile on your face as he did as you asked. There were pages of various pictures of people he cared about. Frank, Karen, Curtis and Micro. Some of the recruits doing drills or just hanging out. There were even a couple of the Castles that Frank had given you when you told him what your present idea had been. Billy swallowed thickly as he turned page after page, taking it all in and getting noticeably emotional whenever he saw one of the Castle’s.
As the pages drew on, he started to be included in the pictures. One’s of him and Frank or him and Curtis or Micro, some of them altogether. Most of them were candid pictures given he didn't like posing for pictures and there was a sweet one of him giving Karen a hug from her birthday that year. The next page was filled with just pictures of him, all of them candid and he had no idea you’d taken and this was the part you were worried about the most. You knew how self-conscious he was, knew his aversion to having pictures taken, so you hoped he wouldn't be upset by it. There were pictures of him training or running drills, some of him cleaning his guns or knives. Various candid shots of him smiling or laughing as he spoke to someone but you managed to just get him in the shot. There was even one of him sleeping, looking peaceful and serene. He didn't look at you as he took it all in, his Adam's apple bobbing as his dark eyes swept over all the pictures of himself. He turned the page and was greeted with the last two pages that were full, you’d left some empty to add to later, and it was full of the pair of you. He only ever allowed you to take pictures of him if he was with you and you had a good number of them. Cheesy shots with a bright grin on your face, ones you’d taken after saying something to purposely make him laugh. There was one of the pair of you lying in bed together looking incredibly rumpled with sleepy smiles on your faces. There were even a few you hadn't taken yourself but Karen had. Some candids of the pair of you she’d decided to take since she knew what your plan had been. And you were grateful for them, you loved them the most. One of you sitting on Billy’s lap on the sofa, the pair of you smiling at each other. One of you laughing together and another of him training you in basic self-defense. There was one of you clinging to him after he’d come back from a job, his hand in your hair with his eyes closed, a relieved smile on his face. There was even one Karen had taken of when Billy had purposely made you walk under some mistletoe with him just two days before and then kissed you.
 
Billy was uncharacteristically silent as he looked at them all and you toyed with your hands restlessly, unsure if he liked it or was upset with you. 
“Do you like it?” you asked quietly, dread coating your tone as he just sat there staring for what felt like forever.
“I uh…” his voice cracked and he clamped his mouth shut for a moment before taking a steadying breath. You noticed then how shiny his eyes were as he looked right at you. You felt breathless at the sight.
“I love it. I don't even… I never thought I’d like lookin’ at pictures of myself again. But this is… it’s amazing. Micro was right, you really do capture the beauty in anything,” he murmured, his voice wavering a little. He reached out and clutched your hand, your body relaxing infinitely knowing he liked it. It touched you that he was moved so much by it. That it meant so much to him, as much as it meant to you when you put it together.
“It’s not hard to capture beauty in something already so beautiful,” you replied, a loving smile on your face. His eyes softened as he brought your hand to his mouth, placing a kiss on it before he tugged you. You wound up straddling him and his hands slipped inside your coat, settling on your hips. 
“Thank you. It's the best gift I’ve ever gotten,” he said sincerely, squeezing your hips a little. You felt your cheeks heat up a little as you smiled down at him, your hand coming to toy with the short hair at the base of his skull.
“I was worried you wouldn't like it. It meant a lot to me, putting it together. It's special… you're special,” you breathed, gazing down at him. His lips curled into a smile, one of his hands moving to the back of your neck as he pulled you down for a kiss. He seemed to pour his gratitude into the kiss and when you pulled away, you felt lightheaded. 
“Time for your present,” he smirked, but it seemed a little off. Tense somehow. It took you a moment to realize he was nervous too and it was slightly endearing that you hadn't been the only one worried. He pulled something out of his coat pocket before holding it in front of him. It was a small black box and he toyed with it for a moment, eyes darting from you to the box before back at you. He didn't say anything as he cracked it open and revealed a beautiful silver ring. There was a large diamond in the middle and two sapphire stones on either side. You blinked down at the very expensive looking gift for a moment, unsure what to say.
“It doesn't haveta mean anything. It- It could just be a… a pretty ring you wear,” he started, unable to look at you as he shook his head.
“What do you want it to mean?” you asked slowly, unsure where he was going with this and his weird presentation of the ring to you. He took the ring out of the box, setting the box on the sofa beside you, still not looking at you as he stared at it.
“I’d ask you to… to marry me, but uh… I’m a wanted fugitive so I don't see us… don’t see us walking down the aisle anytime soon,” he muttered with a chuckle, seeming unsure of himself. His words stole the breath from your lungs and your heart started beating like a hummingbird's wings in your chest. He looked up at you then, his dark eyes boring right into yours for a moment and suddenly, it seemed like his nerves melted away from him.
“I want it to mean that I love you. That I want forever with you. It means… It means that I-I found all I ever needed right here with you. It means that when I’m with you… the world just… it stops turnin’. Nothin’ else matters when I’m with you. All the bullshit I’ve been through, all the pain and loss and hurt… none of it matters. It means that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, no matter how long that might be and I don’t need no damn papers to make it real,” he implored firmly, his eyes boring into you. You blinked at him for a long moment, brain trying to wrap around that he was essentially asking you to marry him. Your chest ached with the happiness you felt and you felt your eyes start to sting but you tried to push the tears away. You were rendered mute for a moment in your shock and awe and he looked back to the ring looking uncertain of himself. You cleared your throat, sniffling a little as you held your hand out.
“Are you going to put it on then?” you asked wryly, the emotion in your voice betraying how touched you were by his words and gesture. His eyes snapped back to you then looking almost surprised by your reaction.
“You're… you’re sayin’ yes?” he asked hesitantly. Your face broke into a grin and you wiped a stray tear that had escaped that was rolling down your cheek.
“Of course I am, did you really think I’d say no?” you asked with a snort. The smile that split his face was blinding and made you feel like he’d just shoved you off the roof. He took your hand in his, carefully sliding the ring on your finger. 
"I love you," he murmured, smiling at you.
“I love you too,” you grinned, leaning down and kissing him sweetly. He wrapped his arms around you as he kissed you back and suddenly, he’d shifted you and your back hit the sofa with him on top of you. He shot you a devilish smirk and you rolled your eyes good-naturedly.
“It’s too cold for that up here,” you snorted.
“I got ways to warm you up, sweetheart,” he teased with a grin before leaning down and capturing your lips in a searing kiss. 
The weight of the ring felt heavy around your finger but it wasn't a negative feeling, it was comforting. You’d grown up being unloved by the people who were supposed to care the most, spent the rest of your life being forgotten by society and shunned for circumstances beyond your control. All your life you’d been shown you were worthless and not worth loving. That you were damaged and you’d declared yourself as too broken to be fixed, passed the point of saving. And then you’d found Billy. He’d slowly put the pieces of you back together as you healed. You weren't perfect, but he treated you like the Japanese art of fixing broken pottery with gold. You’d forever have imperfections and flaws from the life you’d had before, but he sealed every fracture with love and affection that was changing you into a better version of yourself and you hoped you did the same for him. Alone you were both broken, but together, you were now whole. 
Taglist: (if you’ve been asked to be tagged and aren’t here, it wouldn’t let me tag some people.)
@firexfate
@blanchedelioncourt
@ariesbutalibra
@sunshinedaisies-anddeath
@snowkestrel
@music-indie-tv
@idaofinfinity
@sweetserendipity65
@ramadiiiisme
@k-marzolf
@celestialams
@woowwwee
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myf00djournal · 4 months
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Out on my morning walk looking like a well matched queen 👸🏻
Thinking about my peers on here doing some reflecting and setting of goals and pondering if I set concrete goals for myself this year. Retrospectively, yes I suppose I did! Things just kind of happened and I guess seeing them through was the persistence.
My brain dump looking back -
👩🏻‍🏫 Work - Hmm. Well I started in a role that will not exist next year which is a shame. I will still be in a similar role, albeit temporarily until the end of the year. Then, I am not sure what’s happening. My HSC class ranked 1st in our system so that’s pretty exciting. I made a lot of connections with my students and supported them through some pretty heavy shit…
📚 Study - …This then prompted me to start my Masters which I am 3 units into. I have been toying with the idea of pursuing this for ten years so that is a long term goal achieved for sure!
💵 Other work - I wrote freelance exam papers and did HSC marking for some side money 💰 I have said no to the exam papers for next year which I am so proud of myself for.
🏋🏽‍♀️ Training - I went to the gym 170 times which seems to average 3-4 times per week. Sounds right. Jan-Sept is hard because of netball, I was lucky to get to the gym 3 times per week during the season. My gym doesn’t open on Sundays either. Sept-Dec was a solid hit out during the challenge. I managed to lose 10kg, making my total loss since September 2022 16kg without any gains back. I didn’t suffer any major injuries in the gym and this contributed to my consistency and ability to push myself more.
🏃🏽‍♀️ Parkrun - I ran 33 parkruns this year. In April last year I set a goal to get back under 30 mins. I did it this year not once but nine times 🥹 all in the second half of the year. This was my biggest running year since 2019 due to lockdowns etc.
🏐 Netball - My rep and club team both finished 3rd 🥲 I had great seasons, particularly for club my shooting accuracy was the highest and most consistent it’s been for years sitting around 85-90% every game. That was my goal ✅ No injuries that sidelined me - except for my dislocated finger 🤣 briefly. Another goal ✅
💵 Monies - Without putting amounts out there it’s pleasing and also a privilege to get through the year comfortably. I got to travel with my bestie at the start of the year, book a holiday with Josh (Wednesday eee) and still save a good amount for my emergency fund, general savings and pay for my units upfront for uni (although 75% is subsidized thanks government). When I cleaned out my wardrobe I was pleased not too part with too much which means I haven’t overconsumed and wasted.
🏥 Health - I had my endo surgery which had been on my mind for about 3-4 years. ✅ I already feel so many benefits from it and regret not having it again sooner (last one was 2009!). Had another iron infusion. Generally, I do look after my health and try to do regular dental, chiro, GP visits etc. I only saw my psych once this year. I could probably have done with a top up because things got very dicey for me around April, but we made it through.
🥂 Alcohol - I stopped drinking between August-November and since have only had alcohol on 5 occasions (I use a dry days tracker). I’m sorting out when feels safe for me to drink and how much control I have. The reset has really helped me understand why I used to drink, sometimes alone, and that I put myself in unsafe situations when this happens. I still have some soul searching to go but I am on the right track.
My brain dump for 2024 -
👩🏻‍🏫 Work - Enjoy the year. Relax a little. Set boundaries. Know where you stand.
📚 Study - Complete 5 units
💵 Other work - HSC marking and that’s it
🏋🏽‍♀️ Training - Keep up with gym, average 4-5 times per week. Bench 60! Be nicer to people at 5am 🤣
🏃🏽‍♀️ Running - Attend as many parkruns as I can. Go under 28 (home PB). Volunteer more. Maybe do a half again in November? Depends on other factors.
🏐 Netball - Have already said no to rep (can you tell I am being so firm with my resources next year?). Will always play club. Goal - Win grand final again. Shoot at 90-95% accuracy.
💵 Monies - We connected with a financial advisor just before Christmas so plan to see that through and have a look at what we can do! Clearer goals will then form. I also want to stop shouting people things. I am overly generous with this and it needs to stop because a lot of the time it’s colleagues who never do a shout so it never comes back to me 🥲
🏥 Health - Find out what I am anaphylactic to on 28/2 😀 and hopefully don’t die during that test! Continue managing my endo and other factors that connect to all of that. Maintain my weight loss in healthy and sensible means (which I am confident in myself I can).
🥂 Alcohol - I want to continue to be mindful in my motives for drinking, how society has normalized alcohol consumption, etc. I want to be safe, feel healthy and not ruin next days for myself.
📷 - My bestie and I need to take more photos together
📱- I really need to reduce my screen time (cruise will help with this!)
📖- I really need to read more (2 books planned for our cruise!)
🧽 - I keep editing and adding to this lol. I want to maintain a really minimal space inside our home. We have done a lot of decluttering the last few weeks and I am really keen to keep it up. We have a council clean up booked for 2/1 and what better way to start the NY! Can’t wait to drag some of our old stuff out and say see ya 👋🏾
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luminarai · 5 months
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Oh god, unintelligible rant under the cut.
After last week’s fiasco at the writing workshop I wrote to the two authors leading the workshop and told them that if decided not to continue with the workshop because my experience was that a lot of the constructive criticism was too abstract, not particularly constructive, and that I genuinely didn’t know where to go with my writing from here.
And I just got an email back from one of the authors - the one who gave me the absolute hardest criticism last time and only gave any indication that there might be something actually worthwhile about my text that wasn’t half a sentence on one of the pages - and he’d written such a detailed and thoughtful description about what he thought worked for my story and themes along with a bunch of reading recommendations for me along with saying that he hoped I’d reconsider.
And like. Where was this energy when I needed it last week, you know?
But also, I didn’t go into the workshop expecting to be just constantly praised, I was there to figure out what worked and didn’t and what I could do better, which is what I tried to reflect when it was my turn to give feedback to the others in the group. But last time was especially rough.
The way the workshop worked was 3 people each time would get an hour, where they’d first read aloud from 1-5 pages of their work and the rest of the time was allotted to the rest of the group discussing it. During the discussion, the writer isn’t allowed to engage in the critiques unless asked a direct question.
I literally wrote everything down, good and bad, and the criticism (well over 75% of the response) was either completely abstract (my texts didn’t ‘have a flow’ and was ‘too difficult’) or telling me to delete things because they were unnecessary. I actually tried deleting all the things I was advised to delete just to see - it took that particular text from 5 pages to 3 pages. And while I can definitely see the point in deleting some of the sentences that got too long or didn’t add to the story, it’s not like I’m Victor Hugo over here (despite what this rant might suggest). And half of the positive response was followed up with something negative (‘I like the first half of this sentence but…’).
At the end of my allotted hour I’d bitten the inside of my cheeks bloody trying to keep myself from crying. I genuinely walked away from that session feeling like I had nothing to contribute.
I don’t want to be known as ‘that chick who can’t handle any criticism’. But at the same time, both of the times I’ve done readings at the workshop, I’ve gone home afterwards feeling defeated at best.
I don’t know. I’m just tired.
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khalaris · 6 months
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Twenty Questions for Fic Writers
Ooh lots of fun questions, thank you @justhugsplz for tagging me <3
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
25.
2. What’s your total AO3 word count?
61,430 which is absolutely mind-boggling to me. And of those about 45k are Tatort Wien. Which I started writing exactly one year ago. For comparison, I've been writing fanfic for over 20 years and until I fell into Tatort fandom in 2021 I'd posted less than 3k in total.
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Exclusively Tatort Wien at the moment. If I ever manage to peek my head out of that particular rabbit hole, I might get back to some Münster WIPs. Not in the near future, though :D
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
Aufgeben -> Der Anruf -> Die Welt in unseren Händen -> Bordsteingespräche -> Loslassen
Haha, Tatort Münster with a little sprinkle of Wien. I don't usually sort by kudos, so it's a bit surprising to see Die Welt in unseren Händen rank so high. Well, high in a range between 75 and 34. That's just how it is in small fandoms :D
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
Yes, always. Sometimes it takes a while to get to it. But I always want to take the time and energy to write a proper response, because a) if someone else took the time and energy to tell me how they feel about my story, the least I can do is tell them how much I appreciate them commenting. and b) A comment always feels like the start of a conversation to me. I remember the long comment/discussion threads under fanfic on Livejournal and I miss the community of that. Nowadays it often feels like there's this growing gulf between author and reader, probably because of the current content creator/consumer culture that does little to invite equality or discussion.
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Silence, a Torchwood CoE fic about John Frobisher's last moments.
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Bordsteingespräche. I'm really proud of how everything came together in the end in that one :)
8. Do you get hate on fics?
Nope, thankfully never.
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
If you'd asked me that a month ago, I would have said no. But recently I kind of got over my terminal embarrassment at even trying to write anything smutty. I haven't posted anything yet, but there's several fics/chapters in the works. Tbh I don't find vanilla sex interesting and most of the usual kinks in fanfic are either squicks or a snooze-fest to me. The stuff that I am writing is either weirdly specific kink or just downright unsexy (which my characters are having a frankly outrageous amount of fun with atm, bless them).
I'm a bit hesitant to put any real smut in a fic that isn't actually primarily about the smut. I fear enough people might be put off by that, so hardly anyone would end up reading it then. Bit of a stupid fear to have, perhaps, but still...
(Yes, I know, I should just get over it and simply write and post whatever the hell I want 😅)
10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?
I've had a lot of crossover ideas over the years, but the only thing I've ever written was an MCU/Agents of Shield thingie I hacked out during NaNoWriMo a couple of years ago. Let's be honest, that combination is the least crazy crossover of all time and hardly counts as a crossover at all. Like 99% of the stuff I've ever written during NaNo, it's completely horrible, unfinished and should never see the light of day again.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Don't think so.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
I've translated Bordsteingespräche myself, but was very unhappy with the result, which is why it's unavailable at the moment. It's going to get reworked at some point.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Many many years ago, when the world was still young and some of you not yet born 😂, the lovely @hope-calaris and I cooked up a tentative plot for a rather ambitious Star Trek: Voyager fanfic. We didn't end up writing that one, but later co-wrote a CSI: Miami one with someone else iirc and I believe there might have been a 4400 (?) fic, also. Due to depression, my memory of that time is hazy at best, though, so it's possible that I'm missing or misremembering things there.
14. What’s your all time favourite ship?
Didn't expect this question to be so difficult to answer, but is kinda is... 🙈 I guess any combination of my 3 Tatort Wien blorbos. Apart from that, Boerne/Thiel and Stephen Strange/Tony Stark are ships I can always come back to.
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
The aforementioned MCU/AoS time-travel epic.
16. What are your writing strengths?
Dialogue, especially banter-y dialogue. And editing sentences/paragraphs for maximum impact (when I take the time to do it)
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
Action. What characters are doing, how they're moving, getting them from A to B and so on. Ugh.
External conflict. I despise conflict in real life and find it extremely difficult to write. You won't find an antagonist in any of my current stories or wips. And when I do write conflict between characters, that's always rooted in their internal conflicts and mostly the result of them not communicating properly.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
It's very hard to do right. Translations in footnotes are annoying and leave me confused while reading. Translations in brackets behind the dialogue also annoying and missing the point of having different-language dialogue in the first place. It can be good when the author puts enough context there that you can get the gist of what is being said without needing an actual translation.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
X-Files. There's probably some 23-year old notebooks in the back of a drawer somewhere at my mom's house that have fanfic snippets mixed with homework assignments.
20. Favourite fic you’ve written?
Oof, that's another difficult one. I have several that are favourites for different reasons.
Bordsteingespräche for the sheer joy and ease with which it was written.
Kaputt for how much of my heart and soul I'm putting into it.
Die Welt in unseren Händen, because after twenty years of trying and failing I am now finally writing an epic long-form multi-chapter fanfic and I have so many plans and ideas for it. I cannot put into words just how wild that is. And I simply adore this version of my favourite characters.
No-pressure tagging @carlomenzinger, @kathastrophen and @all-my-worlds-a-stage if you want to :)
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rosyjuly · 6 months
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@kritischetheologie tagged me for the 20 questions for writers game, thank you c!!
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
twenty!
2. What’s your total AO3 word count?
76,628. it's kinda insane that i wrote 51k under just six months last year.
3. What fandoms do you write for?
currently only writing for f1, but i've published works for star wars, peaky blinders, the old guard and batman. on another account that has been liquidated many years ago i had footy rpf and teen wolf fics.
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
carry each other (hal jordan/bruce wayne), worked the blade (seb/mick), to the finnish line (seb/charles/kimi), spoils of war (seb/mick) and a favour returned (seb/lewis).
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
i do, unless it only says "please write more of this", because i don't have anything polite to reply. but i love getting replies from authors too, so only fair to return the favor. there are definitely times when i just re-read a bunch of comments and they can really help to lift my mood or feel better about my writing.
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
lmao that would be the prince au break up sex fic, someday to say out loud. making george ask alex to tell him he loves him even if it isn't true and ensuring that he can't and won't believe him... partly why it's hard for me to go back to writing prince au is because it was very easy for me to project my unmedicated depression onto george, and (thank god) i'm not in that place anymore.
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
mmhh my star wars fic maybe? i'm not overly fond of happy endings, the best i deal out is a hopeful but kinda open ending. out of my f1 fic it's a favour returned, i guess -- there's some talk about longer term commitment and trying and failing to say that they like like each other, or consolation prize, where mick admits twice that he's been thinking about seb.
8. Do you get hate on fics?
not in the classical sense i guess or not that i've seen.
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
boy do i. i mostly write smut and use it as a catalyst to nudge a relationship to another level. i don't really get the what kind? question. what kinds are there? wholegrain?
10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?
haven't written one yet, but i've been toying with the idea of an f1 and the expendables crossover.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
if i had a nickel for every time someone pulled entire lines from a fic of mine and barely paraphrased them, i would have two nickels, which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
on my old ao3 account, yes! i haven't been approached on the new one and i don't think i'd give permission now.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
prince au aka the myth of devotion with gabby @prettydangrotten. sorry to be sappy on main but galex truly one of the best things on the internet that's happened to me just for the friends i've made because of them :)))
14. What’s your all time favourite ship?
all time? propably stiles/derek or eames/arthur from inception. also it was sterek that first got me to tumblr, back in like 2012 or something.
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
ugh right now it feels like i'll never finish anything again. but i have a long star wars wip that's like 75% done but i haven't touched for three years. there's a roc sebmick fic i started and i actually know how it should go from start to finish, but i've been struggling with writing this year, so, i don't know.
16. What are your writing strengths?
i've been told the internal struggle/tension that narrator is facing is pretty tight and i do agree :) i also think the porn i write is nicely physical and pretty hot.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
longfic. like. i wish i could do it -- i had a 54k wip on my old ao3 account -- but i don't have the energy or the commitment. this is also why i struggle with WTB and SOW -- i want to write more to both but i feel like they are snappy and valuable as they are and i'm worried i'll ruin that if i add more.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
english isn't my first langauge so all dialogue is in another language in fic for me. i'm not super fond of adding another language on top pf that.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
teen wolf!
20. Favourite fic you’ve written?
spoils of war or prince au. prince au has probably the most of me and gabby is incredible and one of the best writers and kindest persons i know and i feel incredibly fortunate to have created something with her. spoils of war was a challenge on a lot of fronts but i'm proud of the storyline and it has some of the best lines i have ever written i think. and it got @antimonyandthyme and me very close :))
aaaand i'm gonna tag @prettydangrotten @des-iderate @grideon @antimonyandthyme and @husbono.
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slightecho · 19 days
Text
20 Questions For Fic Writers
I got tagged by @daydreams-and-honeybees and @halcyonhue (it won’t let me tag you and idk why! 😭)
This is gonna be very interesting and silly bc I have written much and posted little!! 🤣
TAGGING: @silvvergears if you havent done this before and…… actually idk who among my fic writing friends has or hasn’t done this one bc I’ve seen it going around a few times, so if you are a fic writer and want to do it, i’m tagging you!! 😆
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
LMFAO only 4
2. What's your total AO3 word count?
481,043 words jfc 😨
3. What fandoms do you write for?
I used to dabble in writing voltron fic years ago, and that makes up the majority of works on my ao3 but currently writing for The Owl House and I’m hoping to outnumber the Voltron fics on my account with other fandoms 😎
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
Lmao uhhhh since I only have 4 published, I’m just gonna say the top two tbh 😅😅😅
Ashes takes the number one, with Crowd of Thousands as my second most kudos on a fic
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
Yes!! I love responding to comments! I want to discuss things with people reading my fics and (especially in the case of Ashes), I wanna see what my readers theories are on what’s going to happen. It’s one of my favorite parts of having people who read what I write!!
If you’ve ever left me a comment and I haven’t responded, don’t be discouraged. Sometimes I just don’t know what to say beyond a giant thanks for reading. 😅 And sometimes I won’t reply if my last reply was a teaser
6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Uhhhh so if I had finished it, it WOULD have been the untitled Bungo Stray Dogs Heathers AU fic I got like 75% of the way done writing and then abandoned.
But other than that I don’t have any with an angsty ending—oh wait no ¡Viva La Gloria! is technically a published fic in my ao3 isn’t it?
Yeah it’s ¡Viva La Gloria! then lmao
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Crowd of Thousands currently.
Ashes by the time it’s done.
8. Do you get hate on fics?
Haven’t yet ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Pls don’t send me hate I’ll cry
Criticism and critique are fine. Just don’t be mean to meeeee pls 😊
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
I have.
Nothing published anywhere.
I’m not very good at it
10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?
Not really. I don’t really read them either tbh
I’m kind of the kid who doesn’t want their foods to touch on their plate when it comes to entire fandoms in fics it’s just not my thing
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not yet, or at least not to my knowledge.
Knocking on wood now
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
Nope!
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Somewhat?
The planned Elowyn piece I have is something my girlfriend and I came up with together. So I have co-authored concepts
The first two or three chapter of Ashes, besides the prologue, there was a LOT taken from the discord RP that I’d originally come up with the plot of Ashes for. I had permission from that friend to use them. And I heavily, HEAVILY took out and then rewrote their portions (namely the Raine parts of the chapters “Moving Day” and “Hexside” bc the rest at the time were my characters). Their original writing has been scrubbed and a lot of Raine’s character and story arc has transformed into something else entirely. Pretty much all that remains is that they were the one who came up with the idea that Raine was Manny’s sibling. If they read it, they could probably still see the bones of what they wrote if they squint. But by the time Luz hits Eda with the door in “Hexside,” they’d already moved on from the rp. So it was very easy to rewrite around their parts and just reuse the posts I that I had written for those chapters.
14. What's your all-time favourite ship?
That’s too hard a question how dare you
I like too many ships
15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?
Oh jeez.
Either the untitled Bungo Stray Dogs Heathers AU that was never posted anywhere, or The First Golden Guard.
Pretty much The First Golden Guard i have just notes scribbled out of the plot, what I think the first chapter is, and some various bits of dialogue from different moments in the fic. But then I started writing Ashes and that took over my life, and now I really want to write The Caleb Files, and the bonus stuff that got cut from Ashes. Plus the Elowyn fic. so I just don’t know if it will ever get written now
16. What are your writing strengths?
Description and voice.
I really love getting a little flowery when describing action or setting while writing. And in the case of setting in particular, I think I have a more natural ability.
I also really strive to make sure each character’s own unique way of talking comes through in their dialogue. Maybe not always when the narration makes the reader privy to their thoughts and emotions, but at the very least, their dialogue does.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
Bro just cannot stop yapping!!
I actually genuinely do believe my greatest weakness is my inability to shut up sometimes. I’m sure if I go back and reread Ashes from the beginning, I’ve said the same shit multiple times.
Also sometimes I just get repetitive!! And I use certain colloquialisms like “just,” “after all,” and “as if” FAR too often.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
sigh.
I am a latinx person who lived through the VLD fandom… I have a LOT of opinions… and I have seen some bad Spanish dialogue written by non-Spanish speakers… the kind of shit that stands out to even me, when I have little verbal fluency.
Here’s the thing: I am not AGAINST anyone writing another language of dialogue into their fics. I actually do think it’s a good thing.
HOWEVER!!!
If you are a person who only speaks one language—if you’re a person who kind of doesn’t know what I’m talking about when I say ‘code switching’ or only understands the basic definition of code switching—I am BEGGING you to try and have someone with more experience in that language than you to proofread those dialogue sections.
The amount of times I’ve seen weird moments where the code switching didn’t make logical or emotional sense for the character beyond the author’s “I want to include Spanish here” is innumerable. And that’s not to say code switching needs to have a deep, profound reason all the time—sometimes code switching happens bc there’s no word or phrase in one language that directly translates from the concept or emotion you know how to describe in another! But from what I’ve found, there are a lot of people who understand code switching in concept (and that it’s important for representation) but not in practice bc they simply have no firsthand experience with it. I don’t blame them, though! It’s a hard thing to understand on description alone! Unless you’ve experienced it before, I don’t think it’s something you can fully comprehend. And it can stand out. You can even think you’ve done it right on technicality, but it falls flat.
A tiktok in how to spot AI images I once saw said “AI understands that a mirror, or stairs, or chair legs have to be there there, but it doesn’t understand why it functionally exists or what purpose it serves” and therefore it makes mistakes by adding twelve stairs on the right and fourteen on the left, or five legs on two chairs that are somehow sharing them, or mirrors won’t show the correct items reflected back. I’ve seen many well-meaning fic writers (and published authors!!!) do the exact same thing with language switching. They understand that it should be there, but not functionally why.
Also a basic “don’t rely on google translate” here….. but also a less basic one: different cultures of a shared language are gonna have different turns of phrase and different slang. I’ve also seen a lot of fics that have Lance (a Cuban character) using Mexican slang or words. That’s always awkward.
There’s just a lot. I could go on about this forever but I think I pretty much covered it all.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
Ever?! Lmfao Harry Potter when I was a young teen. I didn’t understand what I was doing at all and only did it because my older friend who knew I liked writing my original stories at the time said that I should try writing fic.
I didn’t even have a plot or anything. I just genuinely thiugh fanfic was writing your little self insert OCs and perpetually playing with them in a dollhouse made of your favorite thing 🤡🤡🤡
20. Favourite fic you've ever written?
Wholly and completely, without a shadow of a doubt
Ashes
It’s genuinely the first fic I’ve ever written where I have actually wondered if I was better off writing it as an original story and going the publishing route. Unfortunately for future me and fortunately for you all, I’m way too attached to the characters as their original names and incarnations to do that 🤣
It’s also the first fic I’ve ever written where I went into it already knowing every piece of the puzzle and having all the clues laid out to perfectly set them up ahead of time. I’m very proud of that and I long for the day where someone rereads Ashes after it’s over and discovers the tiny things in the extremely early chapters that were hints towards the end.
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oh-hush-its-perfect · 9 months
Note
this is me officially asking you to infodump/ramble/anything about quinn :)
QUINN AHHHHHHHH MY BELOVED
so so so Quinn is the main character of the third (?) graphic novel in a series I plan to create that takes place in my hometown. Each story has a supernatural twist to it, but with Quinn's story in particular, the twist isn't revealed until Act 7 out of 8 (I could hypothetically make it a more typical three-act story, but the acts would have wildly different lengths if I did.) Feel free to guess what the twist might be having read this whole description!
It's worth noting that I originally conceived this story as a film. It's entirely written as a script; all I have to do is actually draw the panels for the graphic novel. Anyway, if I had decided to make it a film, it would be about an hour and a half long, approximately.
Enough about the actual story. What about Quinn?
So Quinn [Last Name Confidential] is a junior at [High School Name Confidential], and boy, does he have a reputation! Quinn has very apparent undiagnosed ADHD and behavioral problems. I wrote the biggest chunk of the story right after I received my own ADHD diagnosis and I wanted to write a protagonist who thought like me. He's also partially inspired by Holden Caufield from Catcher in the Rye, since I had just read that book when I started writing— and personally, I adored it. One of my favorite classics. I do know it's not everyone's cup of tea, and if you walked away from CITR resenting Holden, a) did we read the same book? and b) Quinn also probably won't be your cup of tea. He's aggressive, he's directionless, and he feels like no one in the world understands him— least of all his family.
His parents are upper-middle class folks with good upbringings (and family histories on both sides of people mysteriously going missing?). His siblings are both on scholarships going to prestigious colleges— his brother has a scholarship for football and his sister has an academic full ride. If it weren't for Quinn, the family would be perfect.
But Quinn! Like I said, major behavioral issues. The inciting incident of the story is Quinn throwing a terracotta pot at another student's head (he does miss, though, because he has terrible aim). He has a criminal record because of his tendency to shoplift candy bars from convenience stores. He only has one friend— and that single friend is his complete opposite. But all this isn't to say that Quinn isn't smart or talented. He's extremely smart and talented, actually, but has a hard time committing to tasks. Like, y'know, me, he has a really hard time doing laundry because he feels the need to check every single tag before he sorts his clothes. He does enjoy repetitive, simple tasks, though, like pulling weeds or other garden chores.
Some other fun facts about him:
He has a GIANT sweet tooth and loves sweets and milk and cream
He has a hard time making choices when given open-ended questions
He thrives in nature
He has very little sense of time
He has a bit of an obsession with counting things
He's left-handed!
On the side of his left hand, there's a white birthmark stretching from his wrist to the knuckle of his pinkie
He's pansexual and doesn't have a super strong relationship with his gender
He is also extremely oblivious and can't tell when people are hitting on him
At the beginning of the story, he looks kind of ugly— not because he is, but because he wears his bangs in front of his eyes so, like, half his face is covered and because he only wears black or other muted, desaturated colors.
His eyes are BRIGHT green
He is a white American, but about 75% of his ancestors were Irish.
He's got black hair and pale, clear skin.
He really looks good in jewel tones (vivid, bright colors) but almost never wears them.
He gets jealous easily
Remember that best friend I mentioned earlier? Quinn is a little in love.
If you're curious, please send more questions about him, his story, or any of my other stories to either this account or my art account, @zodapopz!!
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beantothemax · 9 months
Note
It took years, but memories prior to the accident had slowly returned. As each day went by, Elena wondered who the people she remembered were. She wondered why her papa wasn't there.
She had suspicions that there was someone else who thought of her as his own. Another man who was her true papa, but she knew not why she was with her other papa Harvey, nor if they knew each other.
Her racing thoughts got the best of her and she picked a time when he wasn't home.
She searched his entire office and found nothing. Every book on his shelf was about math, magic, history or some other subject she cared little for. After several thorough searches, she contemplated giving up. But she noticed an odd line on his desk.
Upon further inspection, she realized it was a drawer that had no handle. Using a letter opener, she pried it in the crack and the drawer slid out. It was full of journals, all with years on them.
She looked through them, and found the one from the year of the accident.
Each page spoke of her and people by the names of 'Rita' and 'Osvald'. Plans of how Harvey would kill them and steal Elena for his experiments. Each turn of the page made her more scared than the last, and she waited for one that said it was all some messed up hypothetical. But it never came, and she moved onto the next journal.
There were no more evil plans, only shakily written pages about how lovely Elena was. Harvey wrote only about his love for "the Vansteins' gift to me".
As Elena read that phrase, a chill ran down her spine. He was referring to her. She was the best thing in his life, and he had stolen her.
The floor creaked behind her. Elena sat up straight and created a fire in her palm. Harvey stared at her in horror.
"What did you read?"
"Why did you kill my mother?"
Harvey sat by her side and pulled her into a tight hug.
"It was a necessary evil, she beat and mistreated you. I only wanted to save you from your evil parents!" he lied through his teeth.
His embrace was familiar and instinctively, Elena felt that it was comforting. But she knew it shouldn't be. She was disgusted and terrified and thought of only one thing while Harvey went on his insane ramble.
How could I return to Solistia?
reading the line where harvey said that elena was the vanstein’s ‘gift’ to him made me want to throw up
elena reading about this fucking insane man who killed her parents and stole her, and is now trying to just make her forget about how he murdered her actual parents because he’s actually grown to love her like his own daughter….AND ELENA INSTINCTIVELY THINKING THAT HARVEY’S HUG SHOULD BE COMFORTING BUT. NOW THAT SHE KNOWS, SHE HATES IT. PIE YOU’RE ACTIVELY DRIVING A BLADE THROUGH MY HEART HERE (-75)
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16, 30, and 75??
16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?
Okay, so I have the final chapter of Gravity Well vibrating in my head and the entire rest of The Stars screaming at me to fucking get on with it already, but I also have a Mummy AU that I talked about before, and then a very little mostly visual idea I chatted about with one of my mutuals where Anakin is MENA and Padme is Mongolian. In a more interesting timeline....
There's also a little seed of an idea for a one-shot sequel to Sweater Weather where Din and Grogu meets Luke's family and that would end with Din half-joking about taking Luke to Mandalore, but I don't know if anything will come of that. Guess we'll see when actual sweater weather swings around my neck of the woods again.
30. Do you share rough drafts or do you wait until it’s all polished?
I used to post WIPs and they weren't all that edited either, but I had a few formative experiences that made me go the "don't post until polished" route. One was readers at FFN getting fuck-off angry that I took down a Transformers WIP because I was going to rewrite and polish the story. I never posted it back up. I'm so mad I didn't because now the only copies I have left of that fic are oooooooooold word docs and text files, and they're incomplete. Another was just... the sheer number of abandoned WIPs because I didn't plot well and wrote myself into walls. It was really discouraging and I got used to expecting myself to fail whenever I started a longfic. Then I really got into the habit of participating in NaNo every year, and the NaNo method of writing balls to the wall, like you're running out of time, until you hit the end of Nov. 30th. really changed the game for me. Like, oh, I should just writewritewrite until I reach the end, and now I have all this time to go back and see what I can cut out, what I can add, what I can do to put out a finished product.
I think the finest exampe and experience I had with that method was The Storm. It was originally a lot shorter because I was in such a hurry to finish this story that wouldn't leave my ass alone and I really wanted to get the fic out there while the dinluke ship and fandom were starting to take off, but when I was going over what I wrote, I realized that the story was missing time and I needed to create more time for these characters to sit in their heads, listening to the rain and to each other, and to get to know each other better. So I wrote in enough scenes to add a new chapter and create a story with a much better tempo and pace, and that story gave me a massive fic series for the ship. What the fuck.
75. What scene in [Fanfic Name] took the longest to write? What was difficult about it? 
Umm.... not sure which fic we're talking about here. But like, just assume that either all the scenes in the chapter after the story's climax or all the scenes in the last chapter of a story take the longest to write. They always do. Coming down from the high of a story's climax (lol) or tying up every loose thread that needs tying up to finish a story is just insanely hard to do. I'm trying to wrap up Gravity Well right now AND I AM STRUGGLING. I've also been working tons of overtime while living in an environment where I can't ever relax, so it's a struggle and a fight to write everything down and feel satisfied.
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weaselandfriends · 1 year
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Three completely unrelated questions: ever heard of interactive fiction (parser games like Zork etc), and if you have, what's your opinion on it? Also, you mentioned a Pokemon fanfic ages ago and do you have plans to write that because Pokemon is my obsession and I would read the hell out of a Pokemon story if you wrote one. Also, is Sister from CxC and that Chateau de whatever vampire anime she keeps talking about inspired in any way by the Marquis de Sade?
Question 1: This blog, believe it or not, used to post exclusively about Homestuck, so yes, I have some familiarity with interactive fiction and parser games. I actually knew about Zork long before Homestuck, mainly because when I was 12 I was a huge Nintendo fan who would read books about the history of video games and Zork would always show up sooner or later. Now have I actually played a parser game? No.
In college I took a senior seminar on interactive fiction. This was a very funny course that included the David Cage classic Heavy Rain. I remember the professor bringing in a PlayStation and having us actually play the game; all the students made fun of the terrible voice acting and inhuman characters, and by the end the professor, looking genuinely hurt, said "I thought it was a good story..."
In this class, I wrote a paper that was actually about the original Super Mario Bros, arguing mainly that even in the complete absence of traditional narrative (text, video, etc.) any video game is actually interactive fiction, in which the player's phenomenological experience of the game shapes their understanding of the game's narrative. Consider the way a first time player would play Super Mario Bros, moving tepidly and carefully, stopping to hit every block, and dying frequently, and then compare that to an experience player or a speedrunner who will blaze through stages at full speed, ignoring most obstacles and reaching the end in a few moments. The understanding of who Mario is as a character is significantly different for these two players, and in fact the absence of traditional narrative elements makes this interactivity even more pronounced compared to a game like, say, The Last of Us, where character is much more strongly enforced by the authorial entity via traditional narrative elements.
Some time after I wrote this essay, Dark Souls would get popular and give everyone else the same idea I had, with its "environmental storytelling" that stripped out traditional narrative elements without sacrificing narrative itself. But I think you can see the precursor to Dark Souls' style in a lot of older games.
Question 2: Very odd coincidence, I actually started thinking about that Pokemon fanfic idea again recently, prompted by the ask I got in which I talked about my idea for a professional League of Legends sports story. Since Players stole my thunder in that regard, I started thinking of ways I could put my rather extensive esports knowledge to use for a story, and remembered my old Pokemon fanfic idea.
I always liked the near-future near-utopian world of Pokemon, where there seems to be little or no scarcity and 75% of the populace does nothing except pursue hobbies of interest. I'd like to do a serious exploration of what a world is like that encourages 10 year olds to drop out of school and attempt to become professional sports stars, without verging into edge. This is a world where it's *fine* for 10 year olds to do that, mainly because widespread, versatile, and even skilled Pokemon labor means there's less need for a large and robust human workforce. So what are these pros like, having left home at 10, spending their youths tromping through wilderness, their only significant social interaction being with what are essentially animals? All while training to excel in a competitive sport that requires an encyclopedic breadth of knowledge about all the diverse Pokemon species, movepools, statistical spreads, strategies, etc.? Obviously they're going to be total social weirdos. I think it'd be a great premise for a sports story to focus on a big, international tournament where these utter nerds come down from their mountaintops and are suddenly hoisted up as the exemplars of human society, imbued with instant celebrity despite their inability to function in any social setting.
So, to answer your question, it's back on the table. I'm pretty sure after CQ my next story will be a relatively short horror story set at a prestigious all-girls prep school in New England, but after that anything's possible.
Question 3: Sister's favorite anime, Le Chateau de Diodati, is primarily modeled on Le Portrait de Petit Cossette, a 2004 gothloli OVA directed by Madoka director Akiyuki Shinbo. Petit Cossette isn't hentai itself, but Shinbo was also directing several visually bizarre hentai OVAs around the same time, which I rolled into the Diodati fictional narrative. The name "Diodati" comes from the Villa Diodati, a Swiss manor once used by Lord Byron and the Shelleys, famous for being the location where Mary Shelley first created the story of Frankenstein. Diodati is also an Italian name; the Comtesse's full name, Marie von Diodati, is a nod to the tripartite cultural heritage of Switzerland (French, German, and Italian), and meant to contrast Marc Elmarghichi, who is of Moroccan descent. Sister/the Comtesse's appearance is modeled off Lambdadelta from Umineko and Shinobu Oshino from Monogatari (another Shinbo anime!).
The only work by de Sade I've read is Justine, and while the unabashed degeneracy of that work was in the back of my mind while writing CxC, it never manifested into any explicit or implicit reference. I have something of an aversion to de Sade, not because of anything he wrote, but because one of my least favorite novels, Thomas Pynchon's Vineland, has a horrible pun where a gardening business is called Marquis de Sod.
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