#forgetting fics

[dra-mione]

most dramione fanfiction i read because it’s fun and it is a good story to fill the void or i’m waiting, chomping at the bit, for the happy ending.

i’ve never read to remember, because each is so unique and but so similar, it would be impossible to keep them all straight. characterizations, settings, past traumas, all vary widely from fic to fic, however, with each new one, you have to clear your head to for the author to paint you their picture. you have to forget.

(also maybe i want to forget because this is not a part of my life that i talk about with the real world, except for my husband)

but there are fics that i can’t quite forget like

1. manacled by senlinyu (because the horrors and the AU of it all truly scared me, but was so well done and highly regarded…)

2. isolation by bex-chan (a hallmark of dramione, and also highly regarded, but i remember it because it’s long enough that i go back to it time and time again, and because it scratched an itch i have for 8th year fics)

3. all you want also by senlinyu (first omegaverse fic i’ve ever read)

4. season pass to this ass (a unique take on draco’s character)

among others.

HOWEVER:

there is one that has recently taken the cake:

Remain nameless.

this one made me reconsider how i view fic: it’s a novel, a work of art, something entirely new and the characters are their own and the story could stand alone. i loved it truly. and i loved how it made me rethink fic.

the question is: will i remember it?

maybe, but i plan on doing a more diligent reread to commit it to memory.

#dramione #fanfiction #draco and hermione #draco malfoy #hermione granger #draco/hermione #forgetting fics #manacled #senlinyu #isolation #remain nameless #all you want #bex-chan

[lungthief]

listen. i know it's not 2014 anymore and i know it's just a throwaway line and that the russo brothers didnt intend for marvel action blockbuster captain america the winter soldier to become the tragic gay love story that never was but man. having steve say "it's kind of hard to find someone with shared life experience" in a conversation about romantic relationships right before the bucky reveal is so cruel. it's not just about steve and bucky obviously having the shared experience of being "out of time," it's the fact that they've both been stripped of their humanity in opposite directions. steve is a legend, he is an american hero and a national icon before he is a human being the same way that bucky is a weapon and a killing machine before he is a human being. steve knows that anyone who falls in love with him in the 21st century fell in love with captain america first, and that's just not him. but then the one person who knew him first and knew him best and loved him (not captain america, that little guy from brooklyn) so much he died for it is alive, impossibly. and it's a miracle because he's back and it's horrific because he's back under the worst possible circumstances. but to steve, the winter soldier is worth tearing the world apart for because he's always been bucky first. they find each other and suddenly they're human again. and maybe, despite it all, being "out of time" becomes a blessing, because in this century they'd finally be allowed to love each other the way they've always wanted to. like real people do.

like. no. the captain america trilogy isn't about two queer men traumatized and alienated by war and modern life rediscovering and reclaiming their humanity through their love for each other. but. i mean. it couldve been

#like you get why all the fics about those two are insane right. the narrative is just so goddamn compelling #and thats not even getting into the whole thing abt the serum curing steve of every ailment except his love for bucky #which makes him realize it was never an ailment to begin with (despite the commonly held beliefs about homosexuality in the 1940s) #and bucky being *electroshocked* again and again into forgetting steve #like howd you make your gay ass movie that gay and not realize it. its kinda impressive #sorry for the ridiculous stucky retrospective its 4am and i rewatched the winter soldier recently #its not that deep. its not its not its not . but if it was anything other than what it is it could have been. and thats the worst part #shut up riley #marvel #stucky

[lunamugetsu]

Danny is an ao3 writer

Hear me out!

Y'know how there's a running joke that ao3 authors/writers will put in the author's notes that they're sorry that they took so long to update and their reason is because of either they got into a horrible accident/ life threatening health issue/serious personal issues/ their life went up in flames figuratively or literally, or somehow a combination of all of those scenarios. And they're all like "Well enjoy the chapter! tee-hee!" and everybody who's reading it all collectively go "are you okay?!" (aka the ao3 writers curse)

So I want to take this, and add Danny

Danny begins taking a liking to the classic literature that Mr. Lancer talks about during class and decides to writes a fanfic about it along those lines. It all starts for when he writes a Pride and Prejudice fic where Charlotte gets a better life where she's both happy and comfortable. And when he gets pretty supportive comments about it. He starts writing fics for other books as well (and it never stops)

During that time, who else but the Jane Austen fan, Jason Todd reads this fic. Yes he reads fanfic (do not ask him about his ao3 history), he yearns for more Jane Austen, but unfortunately she's not exactly able to write more books for him to read. So he turns to ao3 where there are some people who have incredible talent for writing pretty good regency era romance.

So what happens when he finds a couple of Pride and Prejudice stories written by " HalfDeadHalfAliveWriter

And when reading through the stories and looking at the author's notes.

All with very weird scenarios happening to the writer that he can't be sure that if it's a joke or if it's an actual thing he should be very worried about.

Author's notes such as:

Sorry it took so long for me to update this I was being shot at by my parents and ended up getting a burn on my hand and couldn't use my computer for awhile.

Sorry the chapter's so short, all the people in my town are being possessed by a hoard of angry ghosts because somebody had a bright idea to steal an artifact that belongs to an ancient civilization. So I had to get this out quick before they ruin my wifi connection

Sorry I haven't updated in awhile, I had to fight off a crazy guy that is obsessed with killing my father so he could marry my mother and become my new stepfather.

Sorry for the wait I got sent back to Ancient Egypt by my mentor to hunt down a runaway ghost that was messing with time.

But honestly the most recent author's note on a fic that hadn't been updated in week is what makes Jason really worried.

Sorry for not updating for a couple months guys, I was taken by a government agency that started vivisecting and torturing me. Thankfully my sister and friends busted me out and now I'm working on healing up. Anyway here's the Great Gatsby fic where Nick and Gatsby kiss.

After reading that author's note, Jason just sits there thinking only one thing.

What the fuck?

#dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc au #dpxdc #dp x batman #Jason just sitting there not really knowing how to react to these authors notes #I imagine that Danny is completely chaotic when writing author's notes but completely professional when writing his fics #Imagine the downfall of the GIW starts with Danny writing fanfiction #that's something he'll never let anyone forget

[lavendersins]

Merlin overhears a bunch of nobles talking about how much he really gets away with, so he slowly pushes the boundaries.

Merlin, sitting patiently beside Arthur in a council meeting: My foot is injured, my lord.

Merlin, walking down the hallway, blatantly eating Arthur's food: I am testing the king's food for poison, my lord.

Merlin, wearing Arthur's crown: I am trying to see whether it needs to be resized, my lord.

Merlin, sitting on the throne: I am trying to see if the king would benefit from a cushion, my lord.

#merlin #merlin bbc #merlin emrys #fic prompt #someone pls finish #arthur pendragon #king arthur #king merlin #and don't you forget it #don't tell me i'm wrong #this man was actually writing speeches #this COULD happen

[starrystevie]

steve's desperate, okay?

he's officially running late for his first date with linda because he couldn't find his car keys and the shirt he wanted to wear just wasn't working so he had to grab something out of his hamper and throw it on blindly which then messed up his hair and he almost forgot to brush his teeth again but remembered as he opened the front door and-

he only realizes he forgot to put on cologne once he makes it halfway to her house and smells himself. the shirt from the hamper smells stale, not bad, just stale. and steve in his normal, non-rushed state wouldn't have noticed because his trusty calvin klein would have covered it up but today is apparently not a day for things to go right.

with a sigh of frustration, steve pulls into the hook's drugstore a little too quickly and it makes his stomach lurch the tiniest bit before sliding into an open parking sport at the front door. he rushes in, pushing the door open with too much force and books it to the fragrance aisle.

"this is so fucking stupid," he mutters to himself, unable to be heard by any surrounding shoppers over the annoyingly loud jingle playing through the speakers.

steve skids to halt in front of the cologne section, crouching down and scanning quickly over the tester bottles for obsession. once he spots the amber bottle, he yanks it towards himself, spraying as much as he can onto his chest given the awkward angle he's at. as he stands back up, steve pulls his shirt collar up towards his nose and the ball of nerves in his stomach loosens at the familiar smell. he may be late but he feels like he's back in the game.

checking his watch, he sees just how late he is and makes a beeline for the door, nearly running into an older lady with far too many rolls of toilet paper in her tiny arms. as he dodges around her and extends his arm to push open the door, he hears a loud voice over the intercom.

"you're not going to buy anything after stealing cologne?"

steve stops, freezes where he is and frantically turns his head around to spot the cashier grinning at him. he has long hair and a bright red hook's drugstore vest over a denim vest which doesn't look very comfortable. he has chains in his jeans and handcuffs holding his belt closed and a smirk that is trying to kill him and oh-

"wait, stealing cologne?" steve shakes himself back into existence as the old lady pushes by him without dropping a single roll on the way back to her car. "you're going to call me putting on a few sprays stealing?"

the cashier's smile just gets bigger, like a cat hunting down a canary. steve's never felt like a canary before but can't deny that it's an exciting feeling.

"well, on a good day i wouldn't. but i'm bored and you didn't buy a single thing so technically, yes. you're stealing, pretty boy."

steve fights the urge to roll his eyes and put his hands on his hips, so instead he crosses them over his chest, cologne wafting up from the movement and reminding him that he doesn't have time for this no matter how cute the cashier may be.

he makes his way over to the counter, grabs a pack of gum and slams it on the counter. without breaking eye contact with eddie, as his nametag suggests, he throws him a salty smile of his own and pulls his wallet out from his back pocket.

eddie's eyes are a deep brown with a glimmer of something behind them and his hands are covered in rings making his fingers look long and strong. the jeans he has on are ripped on one of the the thighs, showing a hint of a tattoo to match the ones crawling up his arms. steve's no stranger to thinking men are attractive but this guy? he's on a new level. his heart thumps painfully in his chest when eddie's grin grows larger as he watches steve give him a once over. it thumps even harder when eddie gives him a once over of his own.

the clock above the register shows that he's officially 20 minutes late to picking up... laura? lisa?

no, linda. damnit.

eddie looks down at the gum and then back up at steve, quirking up an eyebrow. "i hardly think this monetarily equates to a bottle of cologne but-"

"oh come on!" steve huffs. eddie laughs and it's clear and bright, ringing off the cinderblock walls louder than the annoying jingle that's still playing. whatever fight steve may have had left in him drains away at the sound and suddenly he isn't thinking about the clock anymore. he feels his shoulders fall down to a more relaxed state, feels himself shift his weight on his feet to look more natural than ready to run at a moments notice.

"just kidding, man." eddie rings up the gum quickly and hands it back to steve. "sorry, you looked like you were in a rush. i shouldn't have created a scene just because i'm bored."

steve chuckles. "i'm already supremely late for my date so what's another five minutes. especially if it gets me..." he looks at the gum packet to look at what he even picked up in the first place. "... spearmint freshen-up gum."

"well there you go," eddie says, grin smaller than before, "a perfect thing to get for a date. everyone likes their date to be minty fresh for that first kiss."

it strikes somewhere in steve that he isn't expecting. the beemer is still out in the parking lot running so he didn't have to waste time, his watch on his wrist feels heavy, the scent of obsession overpowering. but he can't make himself move. he wants to stay and talk to eddie, wants to learn about what makes him tick.

"can i borrow your phone?" steve asks. eddie's eyebrows furrow but he reaches for the store phone and places the console on top of the counter.

"for what?"

steve look through his wallet, finding the piece of paper with linda's number on it. holding the receiver between his shoulder and ear, he dials in her number and holds his pointer finger up at eddie, signaling that he'll need a second. steve then brings the finger to his lips and shushes with his cheek pulling up in a smirk. eddie's eyes zero in on the motion and it feels like steve's gone from being the canary back to the cat.

"linda? hey it's steve."

he watches as eddie mouths steve back at him and then nods to himself when he gets the confirmation that it is indeed his name. steve throws him a wink for good measure.

"i know i'm late and i'm really really sorry to cancel last minute but-. oh. yeah, sure. have a good time. okay bye li-."

on the other end of the line, linda slams down the phone without waiting for steve to finish talking and it makes him wince with how loud it is in his ear. he gives eddie a sheepish smile, all toothy and guilt-ridden, and gently puts the receiver back down.

"what was that?" eddie asks with a disbelieving look on his face. steve shrugs.

"she got tired of waiting so she already had another guy lined up to come pick her up."

eddie sucks in air through his teeth and mimes getting shot in the heart. it has steve laughing as he falls over on the counter, hair covering his face. he turns his head to peer up at steve through the curtain of curls, the one brown eye that's visible twinkling in the harsh overhead light.

"was it true love? are you just absolutely heartbroken?"

steve thinks about it for less than a second. watches how eddie curls back up one vertebrae at a time before placing his elbows on the counter and leaning over. watches how eddie's eyes flit between his own and his lips. watches how he focuses on the latter for a little while too long.

"why would i be heartbroken," steve starts. he's being too forward, too brash, but with eddie looking at him that way, he knows he can be. "when you'll probably be on break soon and can make it up to me? you know, for making me even more late and all."

eddie's grin grows wide again. "oh really?"

steve shrugs once more with a playful look of consideration on his face, resting on his elbows to match eddie on the counter. "yes, really. this is your payback for being bored and taking it out on me."

it's later when eddie's on break and steve hasn't left the drugstore in over an hour and they're sitting in his car with bowie playing through the speakers that eddie looks up at him with a look steve knows well.

"you do smell really good, y'know." his voice is softer than steve's heard it all day.

"so are you glad i came in to steal cologne?" steve leans closer over the center console to get into eddie's personal space. there's a hand curling over his bicep and pulling him even closer, their faces only centimeters apart.

"i guess i'll let it slide this time, thief."

and when they kiss for the first time, it tastes like the freshen-up gum they both had been nonstop chewing ever since steve paid for it.

#did drugstores back then have fragrance aisles let alone samplers? who's to say just go with it #inspired by me looking cute for work today and forgetting to put on my perfume and wondering if i should stop in to target on my way in #steddie #steddie drabble #steddie ficlet #steddie headcanon #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #steddie fic #is this realistic? absolutely not but ignore that for the blorbos sake #stranger things #stranger things fic

[hajihiko]

inspired by a convo with @miggylol, some Peko loving ❤ I wouldn't call it a xmas present but maybe ... a stocking stuffer?

#peko pekoyama #hajime hinata #Fuyuhiko kuzuryu #Chiaki nanami #Kuzuhinapekonami #Jfc I dont know #Kuzupekohinanami #Whatever you get it. The most stable love square! #Kuzupeko #Pekohina #Pekonami #an art #Thanks again for the goodies miggy (physical and fics) I'm saving them for xmas ❤❤❤ I didnt know what to draw but! Peko love #Things are gonna get more busy for me now until xmas so I'm using my chance before I forget lol

[isjasz]

[Day 71]

🦚

Thank @b1odeuwed for this one EXPLODES

Fic by @sixteenth-days , the style for this one is def inspired by @/bc-jpeg too :D

#dddaily4sherin #grian #goodtimeswithscar #desert duo #the hermit archives #from the archives #my art #I SET UP TO POST ON BOTH PLATFORMS BUT PROCEEDS TO FORGET THE TAGS FOR HERE HELEPME #tumblr ppl u are getting this about 5 minutes later than twt i sincerely apologize for my lapse in judgment #this was so fun to do tho love playing with lighting YIPPEPE #blods barged into my dms and i was obligated to draw them today JSAKDAwuiwdjk this fic was so 💥💥💥💥

[diangelosdays]

✨jegulus✨

#jegulus #jegulus fanart #definitely didnt forget i had a tumblr lmao #marauders #harry potter #fanart #sorry this is literally the only marauders drawing ive done in weeks:( #james potter #regulus black #james x regulus #marauders fanart #hp fandom #marauders fandom #just lovers #zeppazariel #hp #jegulus fic #art

[lqfiles]

✰ dating na jaemin.

you become his responsibility.

jaemin loves to take care of those he adores, so getting into a relationship with him means that he would do anything for you, literally. you could randomly throw in how you ran out of a perfume you liked and wake up the next morning to a package of the exact same brand, a small note from jaemin attached to it saying he “coincidentally saw it”. he is the type to pull out your chair for you before you could even get near it, and wouldn’t think twice about sacrificing his seat for you if there were none left. he would never let you open the door yourself, instead rushing ahead and pulling it open so you can get in first. the type to tug you closer to prevent anyone from bumping into you. jaemin loves to shower you with acts of service to show you how much he appreciates you.

long phone calls are a MUST.

whenever he has the opportunity to, jaemin doesn’t think twice before dialing your number and calling you. his schedule could be booked and busy, yet he would find a gap somewhere in between it where he could quickly call you, just to tell you he misses you. he anticipates these phone calls, perhaps they’re the highlight of his day. he can’t go a day without at least one call, even if it’s short. they could be the most useless calls, the ones where you just ramble about how you saw some pretty scenery on your way back home, and jaemin would listen to you with a small smile present on his face. the calls could last for hours as he refuses to hang up yet, begging you to stay on the line just for a few more minutes. jaemin enjoys hearing your voice, which is why he always makes sure to call you before he goes to sleep, putting your voice on speaker while he slowly dozes off.

endearingly jealous jaemin.

you would barely be able to tell that jaemin is feeling jealous, it’s almost too unnoticeable. jaemin tries to not get jealous because he doesn’t want to come off as a typical ‘possessive’ and ‘insecure’ boyfriend. still, you’re able to pick up on the force in his smile and his short tense responses. jaemin would reassure you that he is alright, because admitting to being jealous is much more embarrassing to him. it would take a lot of pestering to get him to admit to being jealous, especially if the jealousy formed over something really small such as your friends interacting with you. he’d have a sheepish smile on his face as he tells you that perhaps he felt a bit jealous seeing you get complimented by your other friends, sulking about how he should be the only one who can tell you you’re beautiful. jaemin tends to get jealous over harmless things, but it only reassures you how much he truly likes you (preferably all to himself)

how he asked you out.

it would take jaemin quite a while to admit to himself that he likes you. it’s simply because jaemin is picky with his ideal types and wants to take his time to discover whether the person he plans on pursuing truly fits him like he wants them to. once jaemin assures himself that you’re the one, he’d dwell on how to ask you out. a part of him would want to make it something big, a moment neither of you will forget, and another side of him wants to be casual about it, instead keeping it simple yet sweet. jaemin would opt to go with the fancier route and ask you out to dinner with him. he’d pay for all your meals, compliment you the whole night, and hold your hand while the two of you are walking outside. he’d tug you to the side where it’s just the two of you before admitting his feelings to you in a heartfelt confession. he’d tell you that there is no rush, and how you don’t need to accept it if you don’t reciprocate his feelings (even if that would crush his heart). no worries though, because you’re more than willing to reciprocate those feelings of his and officially becomes his significant other.

kisses.

kissing jaemin would be the epitome of romance. the tingling sensation that travels through your body as he’d place his hand on your jaw, tilting your head to look him right in the eye makes you grow weak. he’d lean in slowly, searching your face for any discomfort and hoping to see the green lights in your eyes. “is this okay?” he’d whisper under his breath, yet you can hear him perfectly. jaemin would wait for you to respond back with words, waiting for consent. and as you give it to him, he slowly craves in and place his lips on yours. the kiss is soft and slow, and you can feel the love emitting into the air. it almost feels like fireworks are exploding in the air as your lips move in synch. kissing jaemin feels like time slows down and it’s just the two of you. you’re not sure how long your lips have been attached for, and you don’t really care either.

#long overdue i missed writing these #NEVER forget my roots (fic writer over smau writer) #i missed writing for jaemin i got carried away with this #jaemin imagines #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #jaemin fluff #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #jaemin x reader #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #jaemin scenarios #nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios #jaemin headcanons #nct headcanons #nct dream headcanons #jaemin reactions #nct reactions #nct dream reactions #jaemin x you #nct x you #nct dream x you #jaemin fanfic #na jaemin imagines

[dapper-lil-arts]

You try to do a favor for a friend, but

#rarijack #rarity #sunset shimmer #this is inspired by a fic i wrote #the deleted scenes had some fun jokes on there heh #and i simply could not forget this one #mlp gen 4 #gen 4 #my little pony #friendship is magic #pony posting #lmaooooo #i like to think rarity would have no qualms about bragging

[infernal-lamb]

more doodles, since I've been so busy! Sketched out Shamura finally....along with exploring the idea that Shamura's prophecies also appeared in abstract webs they've weaved along the years....I think its just Neat(tm)

also: when ur vessel keeps dying just to stare at you with unyielding saucer-like eyes filled with an indescribable bloodlust silently. just fucked up lamb things

#cult of the lamb #cult of the lamb fanart #cotl lamb #cotl shamura #cotl narinder #i cant fuckin draw lately but its fine. i need to write my fic anyways SIGH #also i love shamura and they make me so sad conceptually. their lucidity always in flux but still full of love for their siblings #kinda makes you forget theyre cult leaders! #shamura is making me even MORE MAD bc i can't pin their design right. kallamar was easy in comparison omfg #i'll draw proper fanart soon and not just Doodles In The Void

[crazy-fangirl2524]

My biggest flex will always be how I knew Neil was the more feral and dangerous one than Andrew this whole time even before tsc and seeing the entire fandom freaked out makes me want to kiss and hug Nora and just thank her for finally finally showing everyone and I’m not just crazy

#seeing all the post about like omg Neil is so feral?! like brother did you not read aftg did y’all forget aftg is from Neil’s pov #ofc Neil wouldn’t say he’s feral in his own pov tf😭😭😭 #and remember in aftg Neil still has to hide part of himself BECASUE his father and eveyrhhing but now he’s literally free from his biggest #fear and he could do whatever the fuck he wants #Istg the fandom is like the foxes man idk why everyone is so shook #literally cant thank Nora enough for showing everyone finally #Idc if I sound proud or whatever but I fucking knew it this entire time and I have been shouting it for so long like finally #that’s why so many fics annoyed me so much like #I just needed to say this because I finally felt seen and heard andFINALLY LIKE URGH #tsc and aftg supremacy #tsc #tsc spoilers #the sunshine court #the sunshine court spoilers #aftg #all for the game #tfc #the foxhole court #aftg series #aftg fandom #aftg incorrect quotes #neil josten #andrew minyard #andrew joseph minyard #neil abram josten #aftg neil #aftg thoughts #aftg textpost #aftg shitpost #incorrect tfc

[momotonescreaming]

Modern au where Steve is a part time aquarium mermaid.

He's studying to be a marine biologist or something, living in a big city, loves swimming, loves the ocean, and leapt at the chance to work at his local aquarium. Even if most of his job is swimming around in a long, dark blue, mermaid tail. Merman tail? And honestly? He kind of loves it. He gets to swim amongst the tropical fish, gets to wave at kids and do tricks in the water. The aquarium discount is nice too.

Eddie always thought the ocean was cool growing up. It seemed freeing, even if he was never very good at swimming. When he was little, before he moved in with Wayne full time, apparently he had told his uncle he wanted to be a fish when he grew up. And being a poor kid in a landlocked state, he didn't exactly get the opportunity to go to the beach, or visit those big aquariums, and his interest in the ocean sort of stagnated there.

So when he got older, and him and Wayne moved to the city, his uncle got him an annual pass to the aquarium. And Eddie was going to make sure Wayne got his money's worth.

So on weekends off or afternoons after work, he'd go to the aquarium. Watch the penguins being fed, or the keeper talks in the otter enclosure. Walk through the tanks and watch the fish. And then at the end he'd sit on the bench by the huge tank they have with all the different sorts of fish in them. And he'd put on his headphones and listen to music, or pull out a notebook and work on a dnd campaign as he watches the fish.

One day, a gaggle of young kids rush in excitedly, chattering about how excited they are to see the mermaids. Eddie furrows his brow until he sees a person in the tank, peering around the coral and the rocks with his brown hair flowing around his head. He swims closer, and that's when Eddie sees the navy blue merman tail the guy is wearing. Hugging his legs, and blending in seamlessly with his waist. A girl swims out after him, in a matching pink tail and shell bikini top. They wave and blow kisses at the kids, doing twirls and flips and tricks.

And listen, Eddie's got eyes. The dude is hot as hell. Nice toned muscles, tanned skin dotted with moles, square jaw. He's exactly Eddie's type, but he's working, and in a fishtank, so Eddie sits and watches.

Eddie keeps visiting the aquarium in his free time, and by coincidence he keeps ending up in front of the tank when the mermaid and the hot merman is there. And the guy waves at him, and smiles, and Eddie shyly smiles back with a lil wave of his own. And Eddie swears it's almost like the guy is happy to see him. Not just putting on the act.

One day when the hot merman shows up, Eddie has been doodling fish in his sketchbook. And fuck it, he sketches the merman. He's hot and Eddie's an artist. Why not right? Only when he looks up, the merman is right up by the glass, watching him. They lock eyes, and the guy mimes at him in a watery version of charades. Are you drawing?. And Eddie nods, before taking a deep breath and flipping the sketchbook around so the guy can see. The merman squints as he looks before his eyes widen as he points at himself. You drew me?. Eddie nods again, blushing faintly, and watches as the guy gets all flustered and then pretends to swoon in the water. Eddie goes to sit back down and the guy swims off to get some air.

Later, Eddie's still drawing, listening to music on full blast through his headphones, completely in the zone, when he feels a tap on his shoulder. He jumps, startled, and turns to see the merman in front of him, wearing jeans and a polo, looking a little sheepish. He apologizes for startling him, his name's Steve. And fuck, if he isn't prettier up close.

Eddie introduces himself, and the guy - Steve - asks him sort of sheepishly if he actually drew him? It was sort of hard to see through the water and the glass. Eddie says yeah he did, sorry if that's creepy, but drawing and watching the tank makes his brain quiet. It's calming.

And Steve says he get it. He gets Eddie. And they chat, and they flirt, and at the end, Eddie asks Steve if he wants to see the drawing, if he wants to keep it. And Steve light up, and he looks so happy, so before he can think to hard about it - Eddie writes his name and cellphone number on the bottom of the page - and rips it out and hands it to Steve.

And Steve beams.

#idk where this came from i wrote it in a fury at work and then forget about it #Steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #stranger things #mermaid steve harrington

[aphantimes]

Examples of Knuckles sensing all forms of Chaos Energy (and other things?) so I can aggressively point here whenever people forget about it

I see this part of Knuckles' abilities forgotten way too often and it drives me insane so here

1: HE CAN SENSE THE MASTER EMERALD.

Very blatant. His entire gameplay in SA1 and SA2 revolves around this ability. He innately has the ability to sense the Master Emerald and its shards. Rouge meanwhile is given an Emerald Detector in SA2 to explain her gameplay.

2: HE CAN SENSE CHAOS CONTROLS.

He senses "some strange energy" right before Sonic Chaos Controls right in front of him. Essentially predicting a Chaos Control. IDK how else you could read this lmao he literally sensed a Chaos Control. (I swear I never see anyone talk about this ever grrr)

3: HE CAN SENSE SOL EMERALDS AND CHAOS EMERALDS.

This interaction in Sonic Rush confirms that he can sense both Sol Emeralds and Chaos Emeralds. For him to be able to mistake Sol Emeralds for Chaos Emeralds without seeing them, he has to be using some sixth sense, and has to be familiar with sensing Chaos Emeralds as well.

4: HE CAN SENSE FAKE/ARTIFICIAL EMERALDS.

(This is from a Sonic Station Live segment, unofficial translation found here.)

Knuckles goes looking for a mysterious Emerald presence, and finds Tails' fake Emerald. Pretty straightforward. Also, evidence of the Master Emerald itself being sentient and able to direct Knuckles to investigate anomalies. (I wish more people made use of that, too.)

5: HE... HAS A LITERAL TREASURE SENSE, APPARENTLY?

(This is from a story on the Sonic Channel website. Original found here, unofficial translation from Windii Gitlord's blog found here.)

This is... a strange one. A bit of an outlier. I assumed that instances of Knuckles sensing treasures were purely gameplay mechanics, but here he appears to literally sense a pair of combat gloves, which is completely unrelated to Chaos Energy. So I guess he can do that too? But maybe it's only because he was led there by the ghosts of his ancestors? Who knows.

Oh yeah. BTW, Knuckles gets sent dreams by his ancestors' ghosts. That is canon. Someone pls use that in some way lol

So anyway. There. A bunch of examples of Knuckles sensing all forms of Chaos Energy, not just the Master Emerald. Throw this at someone if they question the extent of this ability and want evidence lol

#knuckles the echidna #master emerald #chaos emeralds #sol emeralds #chaos energy #sonic adventure #sonic adventure 2 #sonic rush #sonic station live #sonic channel #sonic the hedgehog #i remember a fic i read that had knuckles able to sense the m.e but not the chaos emeralds #ghhhghgghghg #plus yknow a mountain of fics that forget he has any relation to chaos energy at all. very epic and cool

[loveshotzz]

what are some steve fics u find yourself going back to reread

pbv! steve by @carolmunson

slow motion love potion by @upsidedownwithsteve

boxer!steve by @rustedhearts

baby, kiss me by @superblysubpar

it’s simple and it goes like this by @usedtobecooler

wicked games by @stevenose

aftermath by @sweetsweetjellybean

#asks #steve harrington fic recs #these are just the ones that i have on the top of my head ♥️ #but ones that left a lasting impression on me #i know i’m forgetting more #steve harrington smut #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader

[birrdies]

“when I say you are killing me” (desert duo one-shot, 2.6k)

Every inch of his climb is agony. White-hot and endless, it ricochets through Scar’s body as if it bought an expressway pass through his veins like a highway. Would it have killed Grian to get an apartment on the first floor? Hell, Scar would even take something on the third or fourth-floor if he had to. Anything would be better than dragging himself, slowly and painfully, up twelve flights of rickety metal stairs. In the snow. In the middle of the night. Bleeding.

Scar’s having a bad night.

Blood dribbles between the gaps of his fingers. It’s slower than it had been, but each heave up another flight of stairs blinds him with pain and sends a few more fresh droplets of blood sliding down his middle. His shirt (whatever tatters remain of it anyway) and pants are wet and tacky, sticking to his skin like a perpetually wet bathing suit as he tries to climb the rest of the way up to Grian’s apartment.

The fire escape is an old decrepit fixture of rusting metal mounted to the brick siding with nothing more than a few loose bolts and a dream. It groans beneath his weight, the barest shake of wind causing the metal to ripple and shudder. The metal saps the warmth from his already cold, pale fingertips. He’d had gloves, but had to get rid of them as they were soaked in blood and not all-that conducive for climbing-under-the-influence (of blood loss). Scar’s not afraid of much, least of all heights, but he chooses each step up the fire escape carefully, muscle memory a crutch as he drags himself past open windows with the lights still on. Last thing he needs is another broadcast claiming HotGuy is nothing but a petty creep with a penchant for B&Es.

By the time he reaches the twelfth floor he’s shaking from head-to-to. Each breath sears through him, rivaling the sharp-edged pain of lightning, setting him alight. It burns through him, the aftershocks never ending as he pulls himself upright and grasps onto the edges of Grian’s windowsill. A pained whine catches between his teeth; he refuses to let it out.

Curled up at Grian’s windowsill as he peeks through the drawn curtains at the warm lamplight cascading through the glass, Scar finds the painful climb was well worth each and every second of agony. No better minded than a moth drawn to a flame Scar leans in to rest his forehead against the glass, the warm, golden glow from within Grian’s apartment beckoning him forward. Inside, Grian’s sitting at his desk around a cluster of books and papers strewn around as if a bomb had gone off. His hair is fuzzy and curled at the tips, as it always is whenever Grian lets it air dry after a shower. His shoulders are hunched and the sides of his face are illuminated by the blue glow of his laptop screen. Even through the glass Scar can hear the incessant clacking of his keys as he furiously types away at whatever assignment he’s working on.

It takes Scar more than one try to build up the courage to disturb him. He looks peaceful (or about as peaceful as someone working on a lab report can be), and Scar knows that peace will shatter the second he knocks, the second he barges in, yet again, on Grian’s evening and sweeps him up in his vigilante shenanigans.

Scar’s bloodied hands grasp onto the windowsill, red streaks staining the chipping white paint like a crime scene out of some gruesome horror movie Grian would have him watch. He winces at the sight; it’ll be a nightmare to scrub out. He’ll have to remember to buy Grian dinner one of these days to make it up to him and hope that Grian will have the heart, eventually, to forgive him.

“Grian,” he mumbles, startled to find his voice nothing more than a gravelly rasp. He reaches to knock, but his arms are as stiff as uncooked spaghetti noodles and don’t listen to a word he has to say. With a huff of frustration, Scar pitches his weight forward and thumps his head twice against the glass. The dull ache through his forehead is nothing compared to the feverish burning tearing through his chest and stomach.

Inside, a shadow bolts across the floor. Grian’s cat, Maui. In his chair Grian twists around at the sound. He’s wearing his glasses— Scar’s heart drops low in his stomach at the sight— and squints through the darkness to see Scar sheepishly waving at him through the glass, his breath fogging it up just enough to be seen.

He unfurls himself from his chair and comes to pry the window open. Scar comes face-to-face with his heart-patterned pajama pants, two sizes too big and pooling around his ankles. Wait, are those Scar’s?

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Grian is asking before Scar manages to start dragging himself in through the open window. It’s only for the briefest millisecond, in Grian’s ignorance, that Scar can be grateful for the starless, moonless night. The dark shields him not only from the prying eyes of neighbors, but from Grian’s scrutiny. In this dark he can’t see the blood, can’t see the tears in his shirt. In the dark, he might just look a little ruffled, no worse for wear than he usually is after a busy night patrolling. In the dark, he and Grian can pretend, albeit for only a second, that everything is normal.

But as the pain and dark corners throbbing in his periphery are keen on reminding him, everything is very much not normal.

“I seemed to have lost my watch,” Scar says as he pulls himself in through the open window. Every movement is measured, half-withheld, ginger— everything that Scar isn’t, and he’d be a fool to think Grian wouldn’t notice. He does immediately, because he’s Grian, and he’s never been truly ignorant when it comes to Scar, despite Scar’s best intentions.

Grian steps back with wide eyes. The color drains from his face as Scar holds his weight against the wall with one blood-slicked hand and struggles to stand at his full height. Every inch he tries to stand taller, the more the swelling edges of the wound start to pull and ache.

“Scar?” Grian’s face, usually so warm and vivid, especially under the light of his desk lamp, pales to a near lifeless color. He staggers toward him, hands held out in front of him as if to catch Scar. “Scar, what happened? Are you okay?”

“Right as rain, G,” Scar says, managing a wry smile. “Honest.”

“Don’t give me that.” Grian rushes forward, grabbing Scar around the shoulders and steering him towards the futon in the middle of the room. The second Grian touches him some of Scar’s pain fades, if not just because he has somewhere else to pitch his weight, to take some of the strain off his bloodied, torn middle.

The pair of them hobble to the futon, Grian whispering mumbled nothings as he lowers Scar onto the edge and forces him to sit back with firm hands on his shoulders. Scar allows himself the smallest mercy of relaxing into the cushions, his arms and legs limp at his sides as his head lulls back to rest against the back of the futon. It’s as if every string tying his marionette up, stringing him along, has been cut all at once. It’s somehow blissful and terrifying all at the same time. He’s not sure he’s ever been this roughed up, this exhausted.

And in front of Grian of all people?

Grian, whose face is drawn tight, whose shoulders and jaw are rigid as if he’s been made out of wood. Grian, who anxiously flutters at Scar’s side for a second before disappearing in a flurry toward the kitchen. Scar’s head is too heavy for him to lift, but he hears Grian rummaging and cursing under his breath before he returns just as quickly as he left. In his arms he balances a handful of small dishtowels, a first-aid kit, and a box of blue rubber gloves.

“I can’t believe this,” he says, to himself more than to Scar, as he sits on his knees on the cushion beside Scar and leans over to assess the wounds.

Gingerly he pulls the tattered shreds of his black shirt away from the wound-bed (as much as he can with some of the fabric stuck to his body with blood like glue) and winces at the gory sight. Scar’s skin is torn in jagged ridges, three gouge marks clawed from just under his ribs and down across his right abdomen. Thankfully, the worst of the bleeding seems to have stopped, dark, thick globules of blood already starting to stitch together like wads of hot glue around the wound, crusting on the skin.

Grian examines it all with a crease between his brow that Scar, after all this time, has come to know means he’s irritated. He’s always looked especially cute when he’s angry (part of the reason it’s just too easy for Scar to give into the temptation to push his buttons whenever possible), but the downturn of his lips, the whites of his eyes, reveals something far more serious. Worry. Grian’s worried about him, and maybe it’s the blood loss starting to get to Scar in earnest, but Scar finds he far prefers this sight. He can’t help but smile back at him, even though he knows it’ll likely earn him a punch when he’s no longer bleeding out on Grian’s couch.

“Scar.” Grian says his name as if he’s been saying it for a while, but Scar’s only just now hearing it. “This is bad. Like, really bad.”

Scar blinks down his nose at him, brow furrowed. “You should see the other guy,” he says with a weak huff of laughter. “Stuck him so full of arrows you could call him a porcupine.”

“Scar, this is serious,” Grian admonishes, snapping on a pair of gloves and brushing his hair from his eyes.

“But you’re gonna fix me right up, ain’t you, Doc?” Sar teases, lifting his head just enough to catch Grian’s scowl as he flicks open the first-aid kit and fishes out a small brown bottle.

“I need you to tell me what happened,” Grian says, and there he goes again— detached, analytical, dawning his ‘I’m calm and collected’ persona. He pulls a pair of scissors out of the first-aid kit and tests the snap of them. “This doesn’t look like it was from some kind of a knife—”

“Ravager,” Scar says, gritting his teeth in anticipation. “Jerk got too close.”

Grian raises an eyebrow. “Sounds more like you got too cocky.”

Again, Scar finds himself fighting (and failing) to conceal a smug little smile. “You’re worried about me, just say it.”

“I’m pissed off is what I am,” Grian snaps. He peels up one edge of Scar’s shirt and begins cutting away as much of the fabric as he can without disturbing the edges of Scar’s wounds. He winces only when the shirt tugs too sharply on the red, puffy edges of the wound. And Grian, to Scar’s surprise, nearly flinches every time he does.

“Sorry, sorry,” Grian whispers each time, sounding so unlike himself. His face is pale, and if Scar isn’t mistaken there’s the faintest tremble to his hand.

“It’s okay,” Scar says, just as hushed, as if the slightest movement or raise in his voice will spook Grian. “Do what you gotta do. I’m tough, I’m strong. I can take it.”

Grian scoffs and peels a foil lid from the bottle’s cap, dumping a bit of it onto a folded dishrag. “Yeah, okay. We’ll see how tough and strong you are once I start cleaning this.”

“Give me your worst, Doc.” Scar lets his head loll back to stare at the ceiling, taking as deep a breath as his tense, wounded chest will allow. The twinge of pain reminds him to stay awake, has his fingers curling into the fabric of the futon beneath him.

Grian doesn’t give Scar a warning, which he appreciates. The anticipation is the worst part. He grits his teeth and bares it as Grian firmly, but not violently, uses the alcohol-soaked rag to wash away the blood from his torn skin. Scar scrunches his eyes shut and breathes through it, the pain an unrelenting impulse racing through his veins like faulty circuitry gone haywire.

And as soon as it starts, it’s over. Grian sits back on his heels and tosses the now blood-soaked rag to the floor. He wipes at the sweat blistering across his forehead with his arm, taking a shaky breath in as he examines his handiwork.

“It’s not too deep,” he says, sounding the slightest bit relieved. He twists to reach for the first-aid kit again. “You’re lucky I swiped this stuff from the lab. Though I won’t begin to guess why you came here instead of a hospital. This needs stitches, probably.”

“Eh, I’m not worried about another scar,” Scar dismisses, ignoring the small beads of sweat starting to gather on his own brow. He can’t handle Grian thinking he’s caused him any more pain; the only thing worse than suffering as he is now is to watch Grian torture himself over things he can’t control. Like Scar. “Besides, I can’t exactly keep up the whole secret identity thing if I go to a hospital half in costume, now can I?”

“Secret identity,” Grian parrots mockingly, unraveling a bundle of bandages and starting to tack them down around Scar’s middle. “You nearly got gutted, and that’s what you’re worried about. Of course.”

He’s angry. Scar would be an idiot to not be able to see it, and maybe it shouldn’t surprise him as much as it does. But it’s not the anger that catches Scar off guard. It’s what lingers beneath it: Grian’s gloved, trembling hands, the way he can’t look Scar in the eye more than a second before having to look away, burying himself in sorting through the first-aid kit for the fourth time as if looking for something to help and, just like every other time, coming up empty-handed.

Grian’s scared.

Scar’s known Grian for years now, and over that time he’s been a lot of things. Angry, judgmental, infectiously funny, bright. But afraid has never been a word Scar has used to describe him.

“Grian…”

“Of course I’m worried,” Grian says, catching Scar off guard. His voice is so quiet, so hushed that Scar wonders if he imagined it. Because something so vulnerable and soft sounding couldn’t come from someone as headstrong and impervious as Grian. It simply isn’t possible. “How could I not be? Have you looked at yourself?”

“Hey.” Scar can’t dream of sitting up, but he manages to leverage himself up just enough to reach for Grian’s wrist. He’ll feel bad about staining Grian’s sleeves with blood later. For now he needs to grab hold of him, pull him in close. To reassure him. “I’m fine. I’m still here, aren’t I? I’m in good hands, yeah?”

“Scar,” Grian says, sounding like he’s about to start crying. He curls his fingers into a weak fist, as if to pull from Scar’s grasp, but he doesn’t try it. He only holds it there, waiting. “I’m not exactly qualified. I’m a bio student, not a—”

“You’re doing fine,” Scar insists, caressing the inner aspect of Grian’s wrist with his thumb. There, he can feel the furious pace Grian’s heart takes on at the touch, like his pulse is ready to leap out from beneath the thin layer of skin. He flashes a smile, just to prove it to Grian. “I’ve bounced back from a lot worse than this. I’m just glad I don’t have to do it alone this time.”

#desert duo #desert duo fic #scarian #<- just in case #hermitcraft #hermitcraft fic #goodtimeswithscar #grian #birdie writes #sometimes I forget I am a writer and forget to post the things I’ve been writing like a madman #blame fishbloc for making me post this one