#fic extra

[n7punk]

A preview of what I'm working on for the @spopbang! A little ~ethereal~ magical realism AU for Catradora. It's going to be posted May 12th-15th. I'm partnering with @karo-lynn on this and their illustrations for it are so pretty 😍 Can't wait to share it with you all!

#spop big bang #lightbeam #ficmeta #fic extra #yes this is what you think it is :) #if you think it's anything anyway lol #EDIT: forgot the alt id AGAIN but it's been added

[youwearfinethingswellwriter]

Hearts & Doodles

This extra/alternative universe scene was inspired by a comment on Chapter 35 by halbrander emarasmoak, talking about how Halbron would have drawn “little hearts and a doodle of them as King and Queen” on the parchment next to their names!

The scene would be set somewhere between chapter 36 (where they create the list of people for the expedition) and chapter 47 (before they go public).

Galadriel made her way to the town hall with swift steps, passing by the bulletin board next to the door without so much as a second glance. But when she grasped at the door knob, she did a double take. Slowly, she stepped backwards, towards the board, where they had hung up the list of expedition groups the evening prior.

She couldn't believe her eyes. Someone had drawn hearts next to her and Halbrand's name in black ink, along with two stick figures, holding hands. One of them had long wavy hair, the other shorter hair, and both were wearing crowns.

“What, in the actual f-”

“Galadriel!” he voice boomed across the town square as he strode energetically towards her.

“What is this?” she asked, turning from him and pointing to the paper.

“What is what?” He glanced at the parchment, taking a closer look at it. “Wow. Beautiful artistry Galadriel! Where did you acquire such stunning drawing skills?”

“Do not play games with me. Who did this? Did you do this?”

“Me? Do you think I could ever draw so majestically?”

“These are stick figures,” she hissed. “This is the drawing of a child.”

“What are you implying?”

“I am implying that you have been talking about us to your trainees and that they have taken it into their own hands to express their support, and show that they ship us.”

“Ship us?” He gave a chuckle. “Whatever does that mean?”

“Forget it. It is an elven saying you would not understand,” she huffed as she turned back to it. There was no way she could get it off the paper. And it wasn’t like she could take it down and rewrite it. Only this parchment had been stamped by the council. And she could not bring herself to return it to them and explain the situation to have them stamp another one.

“So what you are saying is that I have been telling my students that we are in love, and that one of them ran off and decided to graffiti the list?”

She glared at him. “Yes. That is exactly what I am implying. I'd even wager that you directly asked one of them to do this.”

"Galadriel,” he scolded as he tilted his head.

“Halbrand,” she mocked, copying his pose.

A little smile formed on his lips. “Let me tell you the truth of it.”

“The truth of it? So you do know who did this.”

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

“Then tell me who it is!” That only made him smile. “Don't you even think about blackmailing me. I need to know who did it.”

“Why? So that you can kill them?”

“What? No. So I can let them know that our relationship is none of their business!”

“Why then has your hand gone to your dagger again?”

She looked down to her hand, indeed grasping at the hilt of her dagger. She slowly let it go, trying not to blush.

“A force of habit,” she snarled.

“Fine,” he said. She snapped to attention. “I'll tell you… Under one condition.”

She glared at him, but his expression was unyielding. “Fine! What is it?”

“That you promise to forgive whoever did this. That you will not be mad at them.”

“Fine!”

“I did it.”

She laughed into the cold air before her expression became grave once more. “Enough with the games. Tell me who truly did it!”

“I did,” he repeated.

“You are making fun of me.”

“I am not I assure you.” He leaned forwards, closer until his head was next to hers, before whispering in her ear. “I drew it.”

She stepped back, holding at bay the way his soft voice had made her feel, focusing instead on the anger pulsing through her veins. “You are only protecting your students you-”

He lifted his hand, spots of black ink on his palm. Her eyes widened. “You did this?”

She wasn’t sure if she was to be mad, amused, or confused.

“I did.”

“You drew hearts. Next to our names. And those... stick figures.”

He smiled at her childishly. Fitting. “The stick figures,” he explained, “Represent us, by the way, in case it was not clear enough. See,” he pointed. “That’s you, with the long wavy, beautiful hair, and that, next to you, holding your hand, is me!” He sounded so self-satisfied. Way too self-satisfied.

She stood, frozen in place, as half of her wanted to slap him and the other half wanted to make out with him right then and there.

In the end, all she could do was glare at him with all the hatred in the world.

He looked back at her. “What is it? Do you not like it? I mean, I must admit, I feel like my drawing of you in particular does not do your beauty justice.”

“You... you…”

That made him smile. “I, I what?” he mocked her, stepping towards her.

Gosh she hated him for doing this, but she loved him for it even more.

“Come,” she said as she grabbed his wrist violently and marched into the town hall.

“I believe you promised not to be mad at the culprit, so if you are planning to kill me… in the closet…?”

She pulled him into the closet, bringing one hand into his hair, pushing his head down to kiss him while her other hand shut the door behind her.

She sighed into his lips as he kissed her back, holding her close.

“So... you... like my drawing then?” he panted between their kisses.

She smiled as she kissed him again. “Your drawing was atrocious.”

“Was it?”

He kissed her back before she could answer, covering her in his touch as he hands ran up and down her back. She lost herself in his touch.

“I-” she uttered as he moved his face downwards, kissing her neck as she tilted her head to the side. She lost her way to words.

“You what?” he asked, surely knowing that she was lost in bliss as his hand traced along her nape and the other side of her neck as he brushed his lips over her skin.

“I… I loved it,” she finally managed to croak.

“You did?” he asked between kisses.

“I did,” she sighed.

“Oh Galadriel...”

---

Hope you enjoyed that extra! ^^ And again thanks for the idea, it was so much fun to write!

#fic extra #haladriel #yes i made the banner for this scene all by myself #i'm somewhat of an artist you know

[apathmakerstale]

Falling ill for a little bit really disrupted my writing. Unfortunately chapter 12 is barely halfway done, so now that I'm not sick I'm gonna try and get it done as quick as possible.

#fic extra

[nonchalantee]

alternate take for dan finds out abt the parents taking over buck's apartment (ultimately i decided to go a diff way, but i still like this):

Dan finds out the day after it happens, and he finds out specifically because he’s swinging by Buck’s place to pick him up for their mandatory counseling sessions - they book them back to back with Frank, Dan is too paranoid after Dr. Wells to do it any other way - and instead of his little brother standing in the kitchen when he opens the door, it’s his mom.

“Daniel?” she says, both in disbelief and delight. “You’re here - Phillip, Daniel’s here-“

Dan stares at her, then looks over his shoulder and up the stairs to the bedroom, and his dad is standing there too, looking at him. Dan looks back at his mom, then again at his dad, then to his mom once more. It feels claustrophobic and weird, like his life has turned into a movie shot entirely in deranged angles.

“Where’s Buck?” he doesn’t wait for their answer, just calls out to the back of the apartment, “Buck!”

“Evan’s not here - but come in, you should come in, I can make you some breakfast.” His mom reaches for him.

Dan backs out of her range. He meets her eyes. “Where is he?”

“Oh, I don’t know, he said he and Albert would find someplace else to stay,” his mom says.

“I think he went to stay with some friends,” his dad adds, suddenly closer.

Dan backs up another two steps. “Okay.” He backs up again and is past the front door threshold, into the hallway. “Okay. I’m going. Bye.”

“Daniel, wait,” his mom says, plaintive. “Can’t you just come and sit down for a minute? We haven’t seen you at all this trip.”

Dan stares at her, unblinking, then shakes his head. “No,” he says, and leaves.

His dad follows him out, because of course it’s that kind of morning, it’s going to be that kind of day. Phillip catches him by the elevators and makes a gesture like he’s about to grasp Dan by the shoulders.

“Please, son,” he says. “We just want to spend a few minutes with you. We just want to know how you’re doing.”

His dad is almost harder on him than his mom is. With Margaret Buckley, it’s all obvious. When she loves you, when she wants you, when she hates you, when she couldn’t care less. Phillip Buckley holds his cards closer. But it just makes it more devastating when his voice cracks, just that slight ache, that lowering of his guard as he stares at Dan with piercing love and grief. The grief of being rejected for years by his child. Of course Dan feels for that.

But he made a promise to himself years ago, and that promise is the only thing that keeps him together still, and so he says, “No,” again and swerves away from his dad, making for the building stairwell. He all but runs away, runs all the way back to his car.

He wants nothing more than to sit and gather himself, but paranoia makes him drive, fast. He drives without a plan or direction, just the urge to get away.

#the dan fic #idk if ppl will be interested in reading this kinda thing #i have a lot of culled content #things that didn't pace out right #outtake #or the interactions didn't drive the plot the way i needed them to #etc etc #fic extra #but i compulsively save everything i cut so it's all still there haha #lurking in the discard file #tbh the thing im saddest to lose by cutting this bit #is dan's introspection on his dad #and him mother henning buck's therapy sessions #ultimately i decided dan wouldn't do that tho #bc it infringes too much on buck's boundaries #but i still rly liked the idea of it lolol

[stuckinamok]

So when I'm writing for Imminently Intertwined, I often end up with excerpts or "extras" that I will never fit into the final story. Below is a moment that could have happened not long after they (Hunter, Willow, and family) ended up on the Boiling Isles, almost 20 years after having been gone, but I decided not to keep:

Chiara walked ahead of her parents, along with Eliza and Elowyn ahead of her. She watched the twins testing out their magic on the plants around them. Some of them seemed familiar and others strange. Baz was cautiously walking between their parents. Chiara shook her head, muttering to herself. She could tell they wanted to talk without younger ears present. Whoever Belos really was, it was bad. So bad they never talked about him—at least, not around her or her siblings.

Hawkthorne crowed at her, pecking at her forehead.

“Hawk, stop! What is it?”

Her palisman flew back on the ground behind her. In front of him, in the dirt, was a beat-up scroll. Chiara knelt down to take a closer look.

Oh.

It was her mom’s scroll—it must have fallen out her pocket. She forgot she had taken it.

“Is that what I think it is?”

Chiara looked up at her mom, giving her a sheepish look.

“I’m not upset—but I hope you’re not making this a habit,” Willow smiled, patting her on the head. “Assuming Penstagram still exists, we might be able to find Gus this way.”

Somehow, her mom reacting this way made her feel even more embarrassed. She sighed, and stood up. At least with the scroll they probably won’t stay lost forever. Her dad was still having a hard time understanding where they were.

“I know I’ve had a mission that was close to the Knee, but if this much time has passed, there’s no way this area that far away can still—“

“Hunter, stop.”

“No, I swear, this doesn’t make—“

“It doesn’t make any sense,” Willow interrupted again.

He paused, and looked over her shoulder. Chiara peeked as well.

“I’m confused—has it loaded yet?”

Willow blinked.

“Let me take a look,” Chiara interjected, and swiped the scroll from her mother’s hands.

She swiped up to the top most page to refresh it.

She stared.

“What year did you say you fell through the portal?”

“XX22, and it was in the middle of school year,” Willow answered, removing her glasses so she could rest her face against Hunter’s chest. Cale was still blissfully asleep, blissfully unaware. She muffled something unintelligible and her husband rested his one free arm around her.

Chiara locked eyes with her father.

“It’s the same year,” she said.

The color drained from his face.

“I-I think maybe a month or two has passed, based on the amount of posts I see—just the ones I haven’t seen before until now—“ Chiara cursed herself in her brain for letting her voice start to shake. She had to be strong. Why was that scary, anyway? So they went back in time, so what? What does that even mean for them? Would that really be such a bad thing?

She looked up from the scroll again to see Baz standing next to her with worried eyes. She looked back toward where they were walking and saw Eliza and Elowyn far ahead.

“D-doesn’t this mean it will be easy to find Gus?” Baz asked, looking at the scroll.

“But Gus will be—“

“My age,” Chiara said, finishing her father’s sentence. She looked down at the scroll again, and then sat on the ground. Baz continued to lean into her, looking over her shoulder. “I could be wrong,” she faltered, not believing in what she was actually saying this time. “Maybe it’s just taking a long time to load—after all, lots of years to catch up on, you know?”

Hunter shouted, calling the twins to come back. Cale opened his eyes and started fussing a bit, so Willow took him into her arms and then sat next to Chiara and Baz. After Elowyn and Eliza had rejoined them, their dad sat down too.

“I think Gus… and everyone else, are going to have to wait.”

Willow took a deep breath, hating the words coming from her husband’s mouth.

“Your father is right,” she clenched, and then kissed Cale on the head. “If we are actually back in time—there’s a few things we need to go over before we make our way to Bonesborough.”

“What about the Owl House?” Eliza asked.

“What about the Owl Lady?” Elowyn chimed in.

“What about…what about the human?” Baz asked, also curious.

Willow forced a smile. She had a chance to introduce them to their grandparents—if Belos has let them live.

“All in good time, my little minions,” she said. “But first we need to talk about the real reason we left the Boiling Isles in the first place.”

All of their palismen huddled in.

“As we’ve told you many times before, your dad was on a rescue mission to save me—“

“But it was more like you saved him,” Eliza snickered, poking her dad.

“Yes,” he said, nudging her back gently. “It was sort of like that—but it was much more serious. I… I was—“

“Dad used to be one of the bad guys,” Willow said, getting right to it. “Your mom had a thing for bad boys, what can I say?”

“Ew, gross—“ Elowyn gagged.

Hunter chuckled. Maybe this story, the real story, was going to be easier to tell than he had thought.

--

#huntlow #huntlow fic #fic extra #hunter and willow #the owl house #the owl house fanfic #imminently intertwined

[phoenixcatch7]

Dp x dc twin au where Danny and Damian were in fact conjoined/siamese twins, but the most dangerous type - one head, two bodies.

Their early removal from talia being because their shape would not have allowed for natural birth, they were written off but talia begged for the chance to send them off in the lazarus pit.

By some bizarre miracle, before she turned to leave, two small bodies bobbed to the surface - identical in every way, except for the eyes. The previous blue eyes now split in two, one left, one right, and the new eyes, pit created, a bright green.

She took her child, her two children, and together, they survived.

Being removed prematurely, their early years were tough, but soon they blossomed into promising heirs for the league. In sync with every step, the closest of brothers, the league was certain the old fairy tale of twins being telepathic had been granted by the pit that separated them, the remnants of being born as one mind, one brain, one skull.

But then Danny had to flee, and leave his other half behind. Stretched by distance for the first time, the bond grew thin and stretched, and Damian grieved his brother as dead. When he started being sent on public missions, he hid his distinctive heterochromia, choosing the green in memory of the pit that had given him and his brother life.

Danny, hiding his pit aura in the ocean's worth that was Amity park, took to blue, the colour that he and Damian were born with.

Damian moves to Gotham, and continues to mourn his brother as dead, right until one day when he is twelve, when he learns what the death of your other half truly feels like.

-

Their reunion is a thing of family legend. Violence runs hot in both bloodlines, ghosts are highly emotional and prone to fighting a the drop of a hat for bonding, playing, testing, every reason under the green sun. Their training and play often consisted of friendly spars, competitive spars, furious spars, venting spars. Both have been exposed to unhealthy amounts of ecto since before their birth.

There is a long, long minute of staring, before they rip themselves away and lunge at each other like wolves.

The bat family are horrified by their brutally efficient youngest suddenly barreling towards a clone (?) and trying to claw his throat open with his bare hands while openly sobbing.

It ends with them wrapped around each other crying into the others shoulder as their minds finally meet again and relax from the painful stretch for the first time in years.

But nobody else has any idea what to do.

#Idk I just really like slightly codependent twins #Talia and ras had to put so much work in to prevent them from developing separation anxiety like dogs from the same litter #Also I like Damian thinking Danny is dead until he very abruptly finds out he is now via soul mate agony. Someone did a fic with that idea #It was really good. Let's dial it up to eleven #Danny and Damian having different eye colour and it being the fault of Damian's extra exposure to the pit is awesome too #But I wanted to see if there was a way they could both have the same eyes. Well. Close enough. #Same eyes + twin telepathy + the birth complications people like to give Danny = siamese twins #Also the portal accident happens two years early so there's that #I can't decide whether I want the first meeting to be alive Danny or dead Phantom #Or whether it be a summoning or something #I just need Damian and Danny to lay eyes on each other and immediately go feral #They still don't want to share a room though #dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #danny and damian are twins #twins #twin au #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #dc x dp prompt #dc x dp crossover #It's not like telepathy it's more if one twin has seen it so has the other #It's not conscious on their part. They don't choose to share things usually. It's been that way since they were born. #That's what they think twins are for the longest time until talia realises and explains #Ras genuinely thinks Danny died because of how devastated Damian was and how he stopped knowing things he shouldn't #1k

[steviesummer]

inspired by and as a direct follow up to this post by @strangersteddierthings:

Eddie is horrified. He remembers the day Steve is referring to, though clearly not as well as Steve does. He calls out as Steve raced up the stairs and hears his door slam.

“Fuck.” He stares blankly at the wall in front of him. He can’t believe things went so bad so quickly. He’s been trying to get to know Steve better, get closer and damn if he didn’t just blow the hole thing. He’d shown up early, told Steve he needed to prepare as an excuse to spend some time with him. Despite everything that happened over spring break, Steve had remained guarded, standoffish no matter what Eddie tried. At least now he knew why. He’d fucked things up before he’d known there was something to fuck up.

He feels even worse about calling him a bully. Sure, Steve had looked the other way and even laughed at some of the mean jokes others had made, but he was far from the worst. That dubious award went to Billy Hargrove, but even without him, there was plenty of people who did far worse than Steve did. Especially because Steve is right. He did hit first, metaphorically at least. He can justify it all he wants as trying to protect himself, but that doesn’t make it right. Steve all but admitted that as he said the same thing. He feels nauseous at the realization that maybe he was just as bad as those he decried. That for all his talk about accepting outcasts and defying convention, he was just as prejudiced. Swallowing hard, he heads back to the dining room and looks at the clock. There is no way he is going to be able to run the campaign today. He’s not going to be able to focus or even play without thinking about how things might have been if he hadn’t driven Steve off all those years ago. He grabs the phone and dials Gareth’s number. “Emerson house, Sheryl speaking.” “Hi Mrs. Emerson, it’s Eddie.” Eddie is proud that he manages to keep his voice even. “Is Gareth there?” “Oh, yes! Let me go get him for you.” “Thanks Mrs. Emerson.” Eddie focuses on breathing while he waits. “Eddie? Hey man, what’s up?” Eddie breathes out. “Hey Gareth. Look, I know its last minute, but we’re gonna have to postpone Hellfire. Something came up.” He could hear Gareth’s frown through the phone. “Postpone? What happened, did Harrington do something?” As if he couldn’t feel worse. “Nah. I’ll explain later, but can you call Jeff and Frank, let them know? I gotta call the freshman, too.” “Alright, but I’m going to hold you to that.” “Fair enough. Talk to you tomorrow.” Eddie promises before hanging up. He weighs his options for how to tell the Party. Eventually, he decides on calling Mike, know that the younger teen won’t push too much. He’s dialing the Wheeler home before he can second guess his decision. “This is Mike.” Eddie feels a rush of gratitude that Mike is the one who answered, rather than Nancy or one of their parents. “Hey Mike, it’s Eddie. Listen, Steve’s not feeling great and having Hellfire here isn’t going to help. Can you call the rest of the Party, let them know we’re gonna move it to another day? I’ll keep an eye on Steve.” Eddie knows Mike is a confused, given how adamant he’s been in the past about not canceling or moving Hellfire, but as he expected, Mike accepts what he says at face value. “Sure. Need us to bring anything?” “Nah, I’ve got it. Pretty sure he just needs some peace and quiet so he can rest. But thanks.” They say their goodbyes and Eddie puts the phone back on the hook.  With that done, he checks that the door is locked and faces the stairs. Now for the hard part. He’s not sure what he’s going to say, if there is anything he can say that will fix this, but he has to try. Even if doesn’t change things between him and Steve, Steve deserves at least that much. Every step feels like it takes effort, chest heavy with guilt, but it only takes him a few moments to get to Steve’s door. It’s closed, which doesn’t surprise him. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts before knocking. Nothing. “Steve?” If it wasn’t for the quiet sound of Steve’s breathing he could hear through the door, Eddie would think he had left. He glad that he at least didn’t drive Steve out of his own home. He rests his forehead on the door. “I’m sorry.” Eddie hopes Steve can hear how much he means it. “You’re right, I fucked up. I made an assumption and took out my anger at other people on you. And that wasn’t fair and it’s not okay. But I want you to know that I’m sorry. Even if it wasn’t you, I shouldn’t have done that.” He lets out a hysterical laugh as he realizes - “And despite that, you still humor the kids when they talk about D&D and agreed to let us play here and didn’t punch me in the face, which makes you a better man than I.” He falls silent, listens as Steve’s breathing slows. He isn’t sure how long he stands there. He wonders how many other people he hurt this way, without even realizing. Knows he wants to do better, be better. He sighs, feeling his shoulders slump. “Anyway, I canceled Hellfire for today. I told everyone something came up, don’t worry about that. I’ll make up some story, make sure they know its not your fault. And uh,  let me know if you want to hang out again or something. I know I’ve been around a lot; didn’t realize that I was making you so uncomfortable, which is probably another thing I should apologize for. Anyway. Yeah. I’ll see you around, okay?” He waits a moment for an answer, but when none comes, he backs away from the door and walks downstairs to gather his stuff. It hurts, but he knows Steve deserves space and to be the one to initiate contact. He has some thinking to do, anyway.

#steddie #my writing #fic #legit read that fic like 6 times in a row and had to write a follow up #have a handful of extra pieces as well #or thoughts anyway #like steve telling eddie about christopher #and eddie helping steve make a character and play in the future #after lots of talking and eventually getting together #his character is a dwarf paladin named after christopher #i haven't written in forever this felt so good #barely proofread so apologies for any mistakes

[aerequets]

trying to erase the trace of...

#GIVE ME TOUCH STARVED YEARNING BUT WITHOUT TOUCH #dia try to coherently explain your thoughts challenge go #Listen #theres something extra Oomph about characters being touch starved BUT FROM A DISTANCE okay #i read a fic called 'with kid gloves' where yor forgot her gloves and loid HAD IT IN HIS POCKET and he TWINED HIS FINGERS THROUGH #AND HE FELT THE WARMTH FROM THE GLOVES AND THE ROUNDEDNESS IN THE FINGERS THAT HER HANDS LEFT #AND HE CARESSED IT WITH HIS HANDS #OKAY #TODAY I READ A WEBTOON WHERE THE GUY WAS SAT AT A DISTANCE AND THE GIRL WAS SLEEPING AND HE LIFTED HIS HAND #AND HE DIDNT TOUCH HER BUT TRACED THE OUTLINE OF HER CHEEK IN THE AIR #OK #DO YOU GET IT #LIKE KAZ BREKKER AND INEJ OK #( me always going back to soc and kanej) #HE THOUGHT OF RUBBING HIS THUMB OVER THE PLAITS OF HER BRAID AND WONDERED WHAT IT WOULD FEEL LIKE #GIVE ME THINGS LIKE THESE TOUCHLESS YEARNING TOUCH-STARVED FROM A DISTANCE #spy x family #twiyor #loid forger #yor forger #my art #sxf #loidyor #loiyor

[kidovna]

Favourite fandom trope of the day: wisdom teeth removal

#byler #stranger things #will byers #mike wheeler #artovna #if you ever write a wisdom teeth removal fic a) feel free to link it to me and b) you have my heart #silliest trope ever #also I’ve been thinking about this trope extra hard since the first time I tumbled upon r/ambien

[thatbeansblog]

I would love to discuss ladyfly and mikucore ladybug, this special truly had everything us Marinette stans needed.

#both designs are so 2000s vocaloid to me #i was well and truly fed by this special #the designs and extra character development?? #this whole season/arc has felt like an acid trip into fan fic from 5 years ago #im not complaining #mlb #mlb paris special #mlb paris spoilers #miraculous ladybug #ladybug #ladyfly #mlb paris special spoilers #ml

[ikarakie]

mike has a panic attack.

it's sudden and it's terrifying and eddie has no idea what to do. one minute they're all yelling and laughing and just playing d&d, and the next, mike is collapsing to the floor struggling to breathe. gasping out the same two names over and over again. the panic attacks eddie's had before were never, never this bad. for a fucking awful moment he thinks he's about to watch wheeler die.

lucas stays with him, crouched by his side and talking in gentle tones. murmuring words of assurance that, while good, don't seem to reach his friend. dustin had sprinted out of the room yelling into a walkie talkie as soon as mike went down, so eddie has no fucking idea what he's up to. not that he's able to focus on much other than the kid (because, god, he's so young, what the hell has happened to him?) trying and failing to just breathe.

he tries the shit that worked for him, trying to get him to breathe in time with his counts, but it's like mike's ears are full of cotton. there's not even a hint of recognition in his eyes as either him or lucas speak.

dustin returns exactly three minutes later, trailed by the last guy eddie would've ever expected to walk through the doors of hellfire club. steve harrington zeroes in on mike like a hawk, crosses the room quickly and crouches in front of him. lucas scoots away, visibly relieved to see steve, so eddie reluctantly does the same. mike's knees are to his chest and he's heaving sobs so powerful they wrack his entire body. for about thirty infuriating seconds, steve just watches.

"oh god- oh fuck- fuck- will, will-" mike is saying, through stilted breaths. "will, el- el- i can't- they're-"

"mike." steve's voice is like honey, low and soothing in a way lucas' can't be yet. mike snaps his gaze up, finally proving his ears work. "where are you right now?"

"hawkins lab-" mike chokes, and eddie just listens, dumbfounded. "hawkins- starcourt- fuck-"

"no," steve says gently. mike stares at him, slightly less glazed. "where are you?" he asks again, a little more pointed. a few seconds pass. mike's eyes dart around the room.

"hellfire." he whispers, barely audible. steve nods, asks if he can come closer, if he can touch mike. the kid nods frantically, and then his hands are being peeled from where they were curled protectively against his chest. they're placed against steve's instead, and they spend the next few minutes breathing in tandem. harrington demonstrating and mike doing his best to follow.

his breathing eventually evens out, thank god, and the heart-wrenching sobs simmer down into quiet tears. mike all but throws himself into the embrace steve offers, tucking his head under the guy's chin and seemingly making himself as small as possible.

"it's okay, you're okay." steve promises, speaking into mike's hair as he gently rocks them back and forth. "they're okay. they're just fine, both of them. you looked after them so well, bud." he keeps whispering reassurances and sweet, kind words into the little cocoon he's crafted. mike stays curled up there for a while, making a wet patch on steve's shoulder.

then finally sounding more like himself, grumbles, "just 'cos we're hugging doesn't mean i like you." after maybe four or five minutes have passed. steve just huffs a laugh, because despite his words, mike is still clutching steve's arms as he pulls back.

"of course not." steve agrees. mike smiles as his hair is carefully ruffled. turns and reaches for dustin and lucas, who waste no time in piling themselves onto their friend. steve doesn't go far though, keeping a hand in the hair at the nape of mike's neck.

it's only then that he finally makes eye contact with eddie, who's watched the whole thing go down with a sick curiosity. because... who was this guy? this was not king steve, or the asshole, cookie-cutter jock steve harrington that eddie knew of. eddie had thought dustin's nickname for him of 'number one babysitter' had been an exaggeration; that maybe he'd watched them a grand total of three times back when he and nancy wheeler dated, and dustin had developed some fixation on him.

but... no, here he was. having brought hard ass michael wheeler down from easily the worst panic attack eddie had ever seen with the ease of someone who's done it a million times. (and wasn't that a harrowing thought?)

"you mind cutting it a bit early tonight, man?" he asks, softly, and it takes eddie a second to register that he's speaking to him. "i know you've still got, like, 20 minutes, but-"

"no, no," eddie cuts him off, kind of desperate for wheeler to get home and rest. "shit, man. that was... yeah, of course, take him." steve smiles appreciatively (an annoyingly pretty expression eddie never imagined him capable of, let alone directing at him), and turns back to the kiddie hug pile.

"hey, boys? mike?" he calls, all gentle and warm. it makes eddie's heart ache; even more so when all three turn to steve with big, shiny eyes. mike's peek out from dustin's arms. "how about we head off now, and stop at that payphone on the corner of glenview on the way home? give the byers a call in california?"

mike nods, hinging on desperate. dustin and lucas give him one more good squeeze before agreeeing themselves. steve corrals them all up, bids a fucking goodnight to the present company, (plus an extra one for eddie specfically), and shuffles them out of the room. eddie, and the rest of hellfire, are left stunned in the wake of babysitter harrington.

(when mike tries to apologise the next day, eddie absolutely refuses to accept it- and, at lucas' timid request, writes the mind flayer he'd introduced out of the campaign entirely. the next session, it's like the thing never existed.)

#basically eddie introduced a mind flayer and it sent mike spiralling #bc he would be fucked up after watching his best friend be possessed #and his gf nearly die and then lose her powers #and i think he'd associate the mf with the byers leaving hawkins so itd be extra fucked #stranger things #prompt #steve harrington #steddie #imagine #eddie munson #stranger things prompt #steddie fic #steddie prompt #steve and eddie #steve and mike #steve and the party #good babysitter steve #babysitter steve #stranger things headcanons #stranger things hc #the party #mike wheeler #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #hellfire club #the party stranger things #pre steddie #steddie ficlet

[n7punk]

All Fics Extra: Marriage Bonds

Marriage bonds/ropes are a thing that has been brought up in a few of my AUs now (SLAS, Roses and Thorns.... others definitely but that's all I can remember rn...) so I wanted to have one post on it to refer back to.

The origins of the idea come from the Crimson Waste in canon and me worldbuilding a way marriage "works" there when there's no government or anything, and then it spun off to being a part of hybrid culture in my AUs since it seems like half of them couldn't wear rings (or many forms of jewelry) comfortably.

Marriage bonds are a set of ropes you present to the person you want to propose to, alongside the usual proposal speech about loving them, etc. Said speech usually includes why you selected the specific ropes you did. Most people don't have rope meanings memorized and unless your partner is also planning to propose and has been looking into them, they probably need to be told what exactly you've selected.

There's a large catalogue of rope meanings, with certain colors having broader themes, and then specific knots having their own meanings, which can change depending on the rope color they are tied in. So the same knot tied in red will have a different meaning then when it's tied in yellow.

If the other person accepts, the couple is officially engaged and they will work together to create a tapestry of knots that they feel are representative of them and their lives together. These tapestries resemble macramé and can take many forms. Usually they're a few inches across but can easily range to two feet in size with a variety of dimensions, rarely ending up much larger. Most often they're hung between two rods, but sometimes a circle frame or some complex shape is used.

The engagement period starts from the presenting of the ropes and lasts until the "finishing" of the piece (more on this later). Typically pieces will use a few different ropes, with the fianceé also picking their own ropes that hold meaning to them (unless there's somehow a total overlap between what each partner wants) and both of them work together on design. And yes, asethetic does often play a part in the rope selection. There are a lot of slightly different shades of yellow with varying undertones to better compliment other rope colors that they might be paired with, for instance.

There are some marriage bond designers who design meaningful pieces for couples, but in most hybrid communities it is generally viewed as better to have a single stick with a trail of meaningful knots hanging from it than to have something beautiful and manufactured. The commercialization of the designing and need for something pretty to put online or whatever is a source of great complaint among the older crowd. Even when someone is hired to help with the design, unless neither the couple nor anyone in their lives is capable of physically tying the knots, the couple is supposed to do it themselves and just use designs as a guide to try to recreate.

There are couples "bonding" knot tying classes that it's almost always too early in a relationship to take someone to unless you're already engaged (not that it stops people from making that awkward mistake), and yes, there can be drama over "stealing" someone else's tapestry design, at least in the age of the internet where it's easy to find Pinterest boards full of knotwork inspo pictures for references.

In the Crimson Waste version of this headcanon, you are considered married upon tying the final knot and that's that. In modern AUs, this was once the hybrid tradition, but a shift to a more homogeneous culture, dominated by humans, elves, and the various species most closely aligned with them in physiology and culture, means that the originally elven tradition of proposing with a ring (which is a newer tradition as a whole than the marriage bonds are) has become the "default" when it comes to proposal in many ways, to the point where even hybrid couples from one or more cultures that originally used the ropes might now opt for rings instead. However, others are very strident in their favor for the bonds.

Now the tying of the final knot is symbolic and often done as part of the wedding ceremony. Traditionally, there would a be a knot tying ceremony where the couple, surrounded by a group of their family and friends, would tie the final knot together and then share a night of food and revelry in their own home (occasionally the home of a family member with more room/amenities) and then that's it, you just say you're married from then on and you are. In the time of modern governments, you're officially married when you submit a marriage license, so those events (whether a knot-tying ceremony or a more stereotypical wedding with the tying of the final knot replacing the exchange of rings) are held to celebrate the marriage and the license is sent off for separately around the same time

Usually once the final knot is tied, that's it and the design is done, but sometimes couples come back and add to their design (though never undo past work) if they feel they want to add some significant event, such as if having children has changed them, or as a rededication after breaking up and getting back together. This is rare though, and usually it "runs in families" where people do it because their parents did and it feels more normal to them.

When adding the marriage bonds to a fic would contribute nothing meaningful to the plot and take too long to explain - or actively hinder the plot, such as in TTFT - then I just go with rings, similarly to how many people do even when marriage bonds exist in the fic, but sometimes they just fit better and I resurrect the idea again.

#all fics #ficmeta #fic extra

[youwearfinethingswellwriter]

Halbrand’s Mistletoe Adventures – Chapter 42 bonus scene

I'm not going to be uploading a whole chapter today, because it's my birthday! 🥳 And I wanted to take a little break from any serious proofreading 🤮 lol. I still did want to upload something, so here it is, as I had promised, Halbrand's Mistletoe Adventures! <3 Hope you enjoy and happy holidays!!!!

---

He watched as she made her way across town, exhaling the cold air before he stretched his arms. Council meetings could get very tiresome. Good thing she was there with him. She was the only good thing about them.

He looked about. The sun shone but the air remained cool, the grounds frozen over, all fields covered in snow that almost rose to his knees. He walked along the square when he saw that one of the trees on the white meadow had mistletoe perched in it, near the top.

Don’t do it. Don’t even think about it.

But it would make for such a great excuse.

You would go through all that trouble to just to get an excuse to kiss her?

Yes.

He hurried to the nearest tool shed and picked out some shears. Then he wade his way through the untouched snow, making for the tree.

Luckily for him, it had low hanging and firm looking branches. Unluckily for him, the tree also had thorns, and the mistletoe was higher up.

Placing the shears between his teeth, he grabbed at the nearest branch and heaved himself up with a grunt, making to stand on it. There were more branches now to grab a hold of, but it almost became a labyrinth as he calculated the best path. He slithered through the branches, heaving himself up time and time again, snow falling onto him and thorns scratching his skin, entangling his hair with pieces of moss.

If he ever looked ragged...

Finally, with a huff, he reached what he had been seeking.

Leaning against an adjacent branch, he took up the shears and cut off the whole mistletoe ball. He needed a lot of it, after all. No way this was going up on one single archway. No. He had to multiply the places he would hang it up, so as to increase the chances of finding himself below it with her.

He had to premeditate his moves. Put them where it was most probable they would be together.

He placed the shears back between his teeth, making his way down with one hand as the other was occupied holding the mistletoe. At last, he jumped down onto the ground.

That was when he realized someone was watching him.

It’s not her. That’s all that matters.

He held himself back from turning around to see who it was. He had a job to do, after all.

He marched back over the field and to the town hall. It was a good call. She might return for him after all. He made to the doorway of the study and ripped away a piece of mistletoe. He placed his shears aside and instead took up some tape. He cut through it with his teeth and attached the piece of mistletoe to the arch.

Where else might we cross paths?

He found a few more doors and hung some pieces up here or there. Over the door of the armory, of the forge, of the gates of the town. It was then that the bells rang for lunch. From afar, he watched Galadriel exit the cabin and make for the dining hall.

He hurried inside their humble abode and brought up another piece over the center of the room, where they were always standing next to each other anyway.

Then he hurried to lunch, stashing away the rest of the mistletoe and his shears where he could easily collect them after the meal.

---

When he had finished helping the villagers clean up after lunch, he continued on his quest. The kitchens being once more devoid of mortals, he collected his things, cutting through a bit of tape again and fastening another piece of mistletoe between the kitchens and the dining hall. Since he was helping with the dinner feast, and Galadriel was probably going to as well, it was a good a place as any - even if he knew that she would refuse to kiss him in the presence of onlookers.

There was one place, though, even if it was in public, that could work, as it was somewhat secluded from the main roads of the town: the stables up north.

So he headed off to the last destination on his list, subtly bringing his hands behind his back as Colin marched his way.

“Where are you off to, Lord Halbrand?”

“Going to help out in the stables.”

“Have fun with that, the barn is freezing with its open doors.”

“Thank you,” he smiled as he passed him by, bringing the mistletoe back in front of him before hurrying down to the barn. The open arch of the outbuilding was so high he had to bring up a chair to reach the top. At last, he attached the last piece of mistletoe.

Now all he had to do was wait.

Colin knew where he was. That bode well, if she came looking for him. Plus the barn was completely empty. With a sigh, he went to work. Might as well be of use while he waited in the hope that his plans would fall into place.

He smirked as he felt her presence near. His anticipation went through the roof and he did everything he could to seem unaffected when he felt her lean against the door, felt the way she stared at him.

Like she had stared at him in the forge in Eregion.

“You know,” he started as he smeared the sweat from his brow and took a breather. “You could help, instead of standing there, staring at me.”

#haladriel #ao3 fanfic #ao3fic #ao3 writer #fic extra

[apathmakerstale]

Sage Chara! Went for a minimalistic look that I thought fit well!

#OC/Chara #fic extra

[greenglowinspooks]

Gävle Goat v.s. two drunk half-ghosts (DCxDP)

—

Tw: alcohol consumption (no way), one(1) mention of sex

Summary: Jason and Danny accidentally burn down the Gävle goat. You all voted for this, and I delivered. Merry crisis, tis the season and all that.

—

Jason wove through the ever-shifting crowd, an irritated scowl on his face.

Kori and Roy had dragged him here to celebrate a successful mission together, but the two had wandered off together not thirty minutes after they arrived, effectively stranding him in an unfamiliar club in Europe.

Now, his only two options seemed to be stealing someone’s car and getting back to their temporary safehouse himself, or waiting for the two to come back for him.

Still, considering the lecture he’d get from Dick if he hotwired a random guy’s car just because he didn’t want to wait for his friends, option one wasn’t much of an option at all.

It was humiliating. He was a crime lord, not a little kid who’d lost their mom in the store.

Jason sighed, slumping against the wall as he watched the drunken crowd swirl together.

He had never really felt at home in places like this, especially not since his resurrection. It always felt like people were staring at him, like they just intrinsically knew that he was other.

Jason startled when he felt someone tap on his shoulder.

“Sorry!” The stranger said, “I just, um, are you okay?”

Jason blinked. The person talking to him was clearly somewhat tipsy, wearing a blush on his face and a slightly loopy smile. How had he possibly snuck up on him? Was he really that deep in thought?

“My asshole friends ditched me, and now I’m stuck here,” Jason blurted out without thinking. The stranger barked out a laugh, clearly surprised.

“That sucks,” he said, leaning on the wall next to Jason. He hummed in response.

The stranger looked back at the open bar, where quite a few people were frantically miming to him. He motioned back to them, clearly hoping for them to stop, before just flipping them off. Jason chuckled at that.

“Those your friends?”

The stranger blushed brighter, the tips of his ears going red.

“Uh, yeah. We’re here to celebrate some legal stuff that I finally got done with, but, uh, they wanted me to go talk to you.”

Jason hummed again, giving the stranger a quick once-over. He was actually pretty cute; he had messy black hair, icy eyes, and an outfit that screamed “I’ve never been in a club before but my friends dragged me here anyways”.

If he was gonna be waiting for Kori and Roy anyways, why not have some fun?

“Well, I am technically here alone, now that my friends wandered off,” he said, looking at the stranger meaningfully.

The stranger grinned brightly, holding a hand out to him.

“Then, d’you wanna hang out with my friends and I? I promise we’re lot of fun! I’m Danny, by the way.”

Jason took his hand, the beginnings of a smile on his face.

“Call me Jason,” he said, following along as the (surprisingly strong) man dragged him over to his friends.

-

Danny was having the time of his life.

The restraining order on Vlad had finally been granted. The abolition of the Infinite Realms’ monarchy had gone through. And, on top of all that, he was on the most incredible club-hopping adventure of his un-life.

And sure, it might not have been the best idea to give ghost alcohol to Jason, the mortal his group had picked up in Germany, but he was taking it like a champ!

He hadn’t thrown up yet, in any case, so clearly it wasn’t that much of an issue.

Danny giggled, leaning up against Jason as they walked along the street, his ghostly friends filling the street.

As the night went along and they all got more and more tipsy, they’d mostly let go of their mortal forms. Despite being surrounded by a bunch of ghosts with death-blows clearly exposed and mythological creatures, Jason didn’t seem to be too bothered. He had an arm wrapped around Danny’s shoulders and was singing along with some of the ghosts in Arabic(?), his lovely baritone voice echoing out amongst the dead and unborn.

Danny just snuggled further into his side, enjoying the novel feeling of human warmth. He’d have to get Jason’s number after this, Danny sluggishly thinks. If he wasn’t freaked out by Danny being dead once he was sober, at least. He found that most people weren’t quite so open to cuddling up to a corpse. Even if that corpse could talk and walk around.

The streetlights around them began to spin as they once again walked into a rip in the veil. Everyone cheered as the lights warped and distorted, the sky becoming neon green and foggy.

Danny stumbled forward on unsteady legs, dragging Jason along with him. He wanted to get to the front of the group, to see where they were going before everyone else!

Jason tripped as Danny continued to drag him along, stumbling off the path and straight off the Realms island they were currently on. Danny, still clinging to him like a lifeline, fell alongside him.

A cheer from the spirits rang out above them, unaware of their mistake, fading as they fell. Before Danny had a chance to call out, though, they fell through another rip in the veil.

-

Jason sat up. He’d fallen face-first into a snowbank, and judging by the pair of legs sticking out of the snow, Danny had a similar fate. He dragged Danny out of the snow by the feet, tumbling over nothing and falling over in a heap.

Danny rolled over, laying down in the snow next to him with both arms around his waist.

Jason just looked up at the sky in awe.

It was most certainly the alcohol, or maybe the lack of pollution, but the sky looked so much more beautiful than usual.

There were so many stars in his blurry vision, and each one twinkled and shone and spun like they were dancing.

With a tremendous amount of effort, he got to his feet, dragging Danny up with him.

He twirled the man in his arms, his legs unsteady as he tried to waltz. Danny giggled, trying to match his uneven steps.

The arctic wind blew over them, carrying with it the snow and ice of the ages. The wind curled around them, spinning in circles around the pair as they danced. Sprites of fire glimmered in the corners of Jason’s vision, glimmering cheerfully. It seemed that something had caught alight, but nothing was going to distract him from the man in front of him, grinning widely with a blush that covered his entire face.

Jason fell over again, collapsing in the snow, and Danny fell over on top of him.

-

Light shimmered down from the snow-covered trees, falling onto Danny’s face. He scrunched his eyes closed, groaning in agony.

He was so, so hungover.

Served him right for agreeing to go out partying with Johnny of all people.

Danny’s head pounded to the beat of his heart, his core humming in rhythm. He buried his face into the fabric beneath him, trying desperately to block out the light from reaching his sensitive eyes.

Where was he, anyways?

The area around him was definitely snowy; even arctic, maybe, judging by how strongly his core was thrumming. Still, he was perfectly warm, laying on top of…

…a person?

Fuck, he was never partying with Johnny again.

Through great willpower, Danny squirmed off of the stranger and sat up, scrunching up his face as he turned away from the sun. It didn’t make his headache any better, though; the snow reflected the light almost as bright as the sun itself.

Fresh snow can have an albedo of 0.9, Danny remembered, a college lecture popping into his head. It had the highest level of albedo of anything on earth. That’s why it was bouncing the light of the sun directly into his poor sensitive eyes.

Of course Danny would wake up next to a strange man and the first thing that he thought of was science facts.

The man next to him groaned, immediately bringing his arm up to block the sun.

“What the fuck did I do last night?”

“I know, right?”

The man went abruptly still. It took all of Danny’s willpower not to laugh.

“…Do I still have my kidneys at least?”

Now Danny did burst out laughing, bright and cheery. And then he groaned and clutched his head.

“Oh gods my head hurts,” Danny hissed, “does this happen every time you drink?”

“Not unless you hate your liver.”

Danny laughed, and they both fell into silence for a few moments. It wasn’t comfortable silence by any means, though; it was unbearably tense and uncomfortable. Danny almost wished he could die on command, if only to get out of this.

“…Wanna go get breakfast?”

“Fuck yes,” Danny said, getting to his feet before helping the other man up. “Your treat?”

The other man laughed loudly.

“We’ve known each other properly for a total of five minutes, and you’re already bleeding me dry?”

“Come on, I’m a college student, it’s basically my job to ask for free food.”

-

The two of them sat in utter silence as they ate, watching the TV in the corner of the diner with a fascinating flavor of giddy horror.

Someone had burnt down the Gävle goat, and from the footage, it was very clearly them.

It wouldn’t be obvious to anyone else, luckily; the video had gone so staticky that it was very nearly unwatchable. But when combining the scene on the shitty box TV to Danny’s (very limited) memories of the night before, it was clear that they had done it.

“…Knew I forgot something that happened last night.”

Danny barked out a laugh at Jason’s comment, which earned him a sly grin in return.

“Better or worse than getting laid?”

“Eh,” Jason shrugged. “With most people? Better. With you? Worse.”

Danny laughed harder, wrapping a leg around Jason’s and waggling his eyebrows.

“Hey, arson isn’t the worst end to a first night out.”

Jason snorted.

“By the way, are you a meta? I just assumed, with the fire and all…”

Danny looked at him in surprise.

“Oh, I thought that was you.”

“What?”

Danny summoned a small burst of wind, twirling it around in his hands, creating tiny snowflakes.

“I can do that,” he said, gesturing to the snow, “but, like, fire? Nope.”

To Danny’s utter shock, a core in front of him pulsed in confusion, his own mirroring it.

Jason’s core. Jason was dead.

Jason looked at him, his face pale.

“Did you feel that too, or am I having a heart attack?”

Danny laughed nervously.

“As long as we don’t get arrested, I promise I’ll explain everything on the way back to Germany.”

—

Notes:

If Jason really was alive, he wouldn’t be for long after drinking ghost alcohol.

I brought up albedo because I learned something new in science class. Godbles

The wisps were Jason’s core forming and activating for the first time. That’s also what got the goat

#dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp fic #dead on main #dead on main pairing #merry crisis 😐👍 merry chrysler #it’s extra funny that I’m doing this because I don’t even like christmas

[causeimanartist]

Over it

#batman #bruce wayne #dc #my art #causeimanartist #i'm back on my bullshit #not that I ever really left it #b is always on my mind #shout out to frownyalfred's fics because they gave me extra b feels yesterday #which made me want to draw him