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fangbangerghoul · 6 months

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Ao3 Masterlist

ALL OF MY FICTIONS: MDNI, 18+

Starfield Tales

Updated: 04/24/24 Word Count: 155,010

Ghoul series:

1. Neon City Delights (completed) TW: Drug use, SA, Cannon Violence

Walter Stroud has finally decided to talk to you (Main character) like you are a person at Constellation. So, to prove to yourself and the companion the association has assigned to you as of late, Sam Coe, you now get to walk the streets of your hometown to complete a mission with your lead. What happens at the Astral Lounge doesn't need to be told, right?

2. Settling with the Stars (completed) TW: Cannon Violence, Alcohol

Being grounded to a planet is worse when you know you could be out doing something better with your time. Sarah Morgan wants our main character to lay low while others have been out doing quests of their own. How has our main character been settling with their down time since their near-death experience at Neon City?

3. Fleeting Pleasures (completed) <Masterpost> TW: Violence, Murder, Addiction, CNC

Our characters Crimson Fleet Arc. After going undercover our main character now has to balance who they are versus who they have to be and the line starts to blur. (Sam Coe x MC x Delgado)

4. Cellar Door (on hiatus) TW: Grief, Isolation, SA

"This famous linguist once said that of all the phrases in the English language, of all the endless combinations of words in all of history, 'cellar door' is the most beautiful." - Karen Pomeroy from Donnie Darko

To discover the unknowns of time, space and the grand universe like a true adventurer was everything to the Constellation members but at what cost? In this small epic discover what eternity really means with our main character.

5. Heavy Metal Lover (in progress) (Fic Masterpost) Tw: cannon violence

Ghoul and Delgado are back! Ghoul is stealthy, aggressive, indulgent, and stubborn as hell. Delgado is rough, creative, intimidating, and a manipulative Crimson Fleet leader. These chapters will be windows into Ghoul's Crimson Fleet life if the ending of Fleeting Pleasures never happened.

This takes place separately from Fleeting Pleasures in a universe where Ghoul finds her footing within the Crimson Fleet. This AU is a year after Ghoul joining the Fleet and the Constellation and Sysdef foregoing any hold they felt they had on her.

Starfield Shorts

Offbeats/One Shot's:

Capacity Limit (Sam Coe x fem!reader) TW: Bondage, Cannon Violence

Reader and Sam Coe are on a mission to eliminate Spacers and Reader keeps picking up too much shit.

Tear You Apart (Pirate Sam Coe x fem!reader) TW: CNC, Facefucking, bondage, light forced voyeurism, it's very explicit and it's a pirate being a pirate so just be wary. This isn't your Sam Coe from Kansas anymore.

You are now Starborn in search for the remnants of what you have left behind in your new current universe. You rush to be reunited with a new version of those you cared deeply but things go awry.

soft leather and spurs (softdom!Sam x fem!reader) Tw: praise kink, soft breeding kink, language?

You are leaving the bar for the night after playing a game of let's meet like strangers with your favorite cowboy.

Bonus Stories:

Ghoul Adventures (Halloweenedition, in progress)

This Halloween edition of Starfield tales takes our Main Character and some of the crew of Constellation on a spelunking adventure in search of what is causing all of the spooky rumors at the local citizen outpost.

Ghoul Files (a miniseries in progress) TW: Smut (I honestly don't think I have anything too hardcore in this series to tag, I will update if that changes)

This is the start of entries from Ghoul's life. Not all entries will be cannon to the current series. These entries are also little tidbits to hold you over in between chapters and series! Some will be Crimson Fleet oriented; some will be regular Ghoul activities!

Ghoul's Time at Sandrock

Short 1000 words or less chapters:

That Damn Rock (completed) fem!builder x Owen Tw: Fluff, slice of life, maybe a smooch

Builder, Ghoul is struggling with gathering materials.

What Did I Get Myself Into? (completed) fem!builder x Owen TW: Fluff, slice of life, fun stuff

Builder Ghoul tries to socialize like a normal Sandrockian.

Baldur's Gatekeep, Gaslight, Gouge Eyes 3

Collection of BG3 inspired Fics:

Thorny Feelings (completed) OC Ghoul x Bearlytolerable's OC Valentine Blanche TW: smut, anal, cunnilingus, light bdsm, magic

Valentine follows his dear friend Ghoul out into the woods away from the camp of companions they've been traveling with in Faerun.

100 Followers Celebration - Bloodweave (completed) Gale x Astarion Tw: fluff, hurt/comfort kind of

While the party is taking a short rest; Astarion and Gale strike up a conversation.

100 Followers Celebration - Calm Nights (completed) Halsin x Astarion x Ghoul Tw: bathtub, relaxation

Halsin, Astarion, and Ghoul finally settle for the night into a paid room for the night after long voyaging.

Bonus Posts

Masterpost Character Editions:

Sam Coe: Collection of oneshots and features Sam Coe from Starfield

Delgado: Collection of fics featuring Delgado from Starfield

Owen: Collection of fic that features Owen from MTAS

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bearlytolerant · 4 months

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Tagged by @myreia thank you!

Tagging whoever sees and wants to share.

They called her that other builder from Portia or that girl who fought the rogue knight or, if she was lucky, simply baker. Never Sage. Except for him but not always. There was a time he hadn’t known her name but it wasn’t a very long time.

He came in at exactly 6:45 every morning. The first loaves of the day were fresh from the oven, still warm before she opened the bakery at 7. Six months of his regular patronage and the bakery was out of his way, across from the clinic, and she knew the saloon opened at 7 as well. She learned to keep the door unlocked early and welcome him in, friendship and all. It was the least she could do.

“Morning Owen,” she said as she arranged a tray full of lavender scones.

“Hey! Sage,” he said in his optimistic, jolly tone. His eyes closed and he inhaled real deep before opening them again, throwing her a smile. “Wow, it smells incredible in here!”

“Well, I do try.”

“And you succeed.” He found himself a seat near the window but she could feel his eyes on her as she finished her pastry arrangement.

She attempted to follow through on her twin’s latest words of wisdom, ringing in her head, “It wouldn’t hurt if you smiled a little more. You always look like you want to murder something. I think that scares some people a little.” It was easier when she’d been a builder. Higgins never smiled so when she showed up with her neutral expression, Portians seemed pleased and unbothered. At least they never complained to her face. But owning a bakery was a different beast from owning a workshop. It wasn’t as simple as grabbing a commission scrawled on a piece of paper on a billboard and filling the order. People that loved getting bread—well they didn’t just order bread and go—they seemed to enjoy hanging around to chat, especially Cooper.

She tried throwing Owen a smile that felt more like a grimace. Owen didn’t seem to mind as his grin widened. “Pastry of the day?” She asked.

“I always enjoy taste testing your latest confections.”

“So that’s a yes then?” She raised a brow and was answered with a small chuckle.

“Yes. Always a yes.”

#bear writes #wip wednesday #mtas fic #my time at sandrock #owen is right there but sage is like…idk I think I want bird man #idk who to tag anymore lol

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kittlesandbugs · 1 year

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Title: Scrubbing old wounds (AO3 Link here) Pairing: Chargestep Warnings: PSTD, medical trauma, canon-typical angst, end of Retri spoilers Word Count: 1691 Summary: At some point after the wreck and moving into Ortega's apartment to heal, Sidestep has to tackle how to get clean. It dredges up a lot of old memories and fears.

You drag your hand back through greasy hair that feels almost plastered to your skull. How long ago was your accident, since you were clean? Showered that morning, before everything went to absolute shit. Was it two days earlier that you arrived at Ortega's apartment? You aren’t sure how long you were in the hospital before you woke up again. Three days maybe? Four?

Fuck. You haven't had to go longer than a day since you got back to the city. You can't walk. Can't get undressed by yourself. Can't even piss by yourself. How are you supposed to manage a shower? The frustrated groan drags itself from your lips.

"What's wrong, Ry?"

You turn to find Ortega peering at you from around the kitchen doorway. You must have been louder than you thought.

"I… feel disgusting," you admit, rubbing the back of your neck. Your hand sticking in dried sweat makes you grimace. "I need a shower but…"

His lips quirk in a half-smile. "I was wondering when you'd ask."

"It can wait," you say quickly. Somehow the idea was less daunting in your head, and the reality of the endeavor is sinking its claws in. You suppress a shudder. "I don't want to interrupt you."

"I'm just cleaning up. That can wait." He pauses and cocks his head in thought. "Or would you rather Angie helped you with this? She’ll be over tonight."

Fuck, that's so much worse. At least with Ortega, you're completely protected from his thoughts. Judgments. Unvoiced questions. Argent is good at keeping hers under wraps, but you can't handle a slip. Not right now. You quickly shake your head.

"You, please?" You sound pathetic even to your own ears.

"Of course," he says quietly. Gently. Like you aren't a villain that lies to him constantly, just the woman he loves, and you can't even really be that for him.

Does he suspect anything? Will he put the pieces together when Reckoning's rampage quiets the entire time you're here healing? As much as you accuse him of being an idiot, he's not about things like this.

You tug your sleeves nervously as he takes hold of the wheelchair, guides you to the bathroom. They both know that truth now. You still can't bring yourself to wear short sleeves around them since the IV came out. Can't handle the glances you know will come. The curiosity. The pity.

You're going to have to bear his anyway if you want to get clean.

There's room enough for both of you and the wheelchair between all the fixtures. Ranger salary perks of living, but it is a little tight. He sidles around you to the tub.

"I've been thinking about how we're going to do this since we left the HQ. And the only thing I've come up with is something like a sponge bath?"

You nod. Not like you can submerge your casts, acrylic or not. Can't remove them to get excess water out. Don't want to risk anything that could complicate your healing. You're going to be too vulnerable too long as it is, and your skin itches from more than just grime.

"Can I help you get undressed?"

Too soft. Too considerate. You're suddenly not sure what's worse, getting manhandled like a doll or treated like you'll shatter if he touches you wrong, and it burns like sandpaper on raw nerves.

"Seriously? Gonna be hard to give me a bath otherwise." It comes out far more acidic and sarcastic than you intended, and you flinch at the flash of hurt in his eyes. "Sorry."

"It's okay."

"It's not. I shouldn't be taking my shit out on you." You hold your arms up and lean forward, a peace offering and invitation to take your shirt off.

He takes the offered olive branch. Chuckles a little as he peels the shirt over your head. "I had a feeling you would be a terrible patient."

"I am, aren't I?"

"You're in a lot of pain." Lips press to the top of your head. "I get it."

"I do appreciate your help." You blink back tears. "And you bringing me here. I couldn't…"

"I won't let them take you again. Hurt you again."

You don't believe he can really keep them from you. But the thought is nice. You sit back in the chair and look at the ceiling rather than your own acid orange torso.

"Oh, Riley…"

The tone of his voice brings you back to him, and he has a soft, open expression that punches you right in your guts, harder than a fist.

"Wh-what?" Your arms cross over your chest, hiding one set of patterns and exposing another. Damned either way. "They're as much me as the rest of my skin."

He shakes his head, tension obvious in the cords of his neck. "Not the tattoos. The scar."

"I— oh." Your arms fall away and you look down at the ugly Y-shape going down your breast bone, split across your belly, breaking up the tattoos. Reminiscent of an autopsy scar, but you never actually died. Not all the way, not in a way they couldn't bring you back. "That."

"What… what did they do to you?"

You laugh. Maybe it's a little frayed at the edges, jagged like your skin. "Fixed me after Heartbreak, like I said before. Used the good spare parts inside. Didn't care how it looked outside. Didn't matter. No one else was ever supposed to see it."

He isn't sparking, probably turned himself off for the bath. But his hands clench tight and pale on the rims of your wheels. He's speechless for once, and it emboldens you to keep going. Keep giving him more ugly truths so he'll finally repudiate you like he should have done when he first saw the tattoos.

"New spleen, it ruptured. Replaced some bowel that perforated. Fixed a punctured lung. Broken ribs." You lean forward so he can see the long scars running the length of your spine and he sucks in a breath. You knew they'd worked on it, but hadn't seen the extent until the first time you examined yourself with your puppet. "Repaired herniated discs and cracked vertebrae. I… a lot breaks in a 40-foot fall."

He winces and you half regret saying the last part. "I know," he says softly.

"I don't know that I would have survived if they hadn't taken me immediately." A shudder runs through you. Maybe it would have been better for everyone if they hadn't. But they did, and the ball can't stop rolling now. "I don't know that I entirely survived the ride. I don't really remember much between the fall and the scalpels."

Those you remember with crystal clarity, the pain stripping your mind cleaner than their scans. Straps biting into flesh, pinned down and cut open like a frog for dissection. The jab when they cut somatic nerve control to still your writhing. Couldn't even relieve the pain with a scream, machines breathing for you through tubes unceremoniously shoved down your throat. Pain-gate broken or deactivated, and you felt everything in spades. Just like now, painkillers no longer taking the edge off. You shiver and swallow the bile threatening to rise up.

Warm hands cup your cheeks and you almost flinch out of them. He's gone to one knee beside you, unable to slot in from the front. "Hey. Hey. Look at me. Breathe with me."

Heart racing, breath coming in shallow pants, you didn't even notice. You swallow again, hands squeeze the arm rest, focus on warm brown eyes, warm hands, long slow breaths, letting the past lie dead where you should have. But neither one of you will stay down.

"There." Lips press to your forehead. "It's okay. You're back, you're here, and I won't let them take you again," he says again but with more force.

If he keeps saying that, can he will it into reality?

"Sorry," you mutter. "I don't… This is… It's too…" You trail off, words not coming. Everything hurts, everything's wrong, everything's twisted up, how did it get…

"Too similar to last time?"

You flinch. "Yeah."

He hums in thought and turns on the spigot, bucket already waiting underneath. Did he already have it there in anticipation of your need or did it sneak in while you were losing it? You don't know. You scrub your face with a groan and your hands come back wet with tears. Fuck.

"How did they take care of you?"

You freeze like a deer, not sure if you misheard over the faucet. "What?"

"When you were hurt before. They had to keep you clean, right? For your wounds?"

"I don't…" Hands, there were hands. You sort of remember them. Moving the shift. Lifting your limbs. Rough callous scrubbing. And sometimes they would... You shake your head to derail that train of thought. "I don't really remember everything. I was half catatonic from shock. Pain. They just did."

"Okay. Here." He hands you a warm wet soapy cloth and retreats, as much as he can wedged in the bathroom with you.

There's a loaded look in his eyes that's throwing you. You look at the washcloth, back to him, trying to figure out what he's plotting, and you only batter against static in his brain that makes you shrink back in your chair as another tremor runs through you.

"Riley, look at me." Your eyes flick to his. "I'm not them. I'm not going to hurt you." A loaded pause, a crooked grin. "Except when I pick you up so we can scrub your ass."

That startles a choked laugh out of you and his eyes crinkle with delight. "I think that one's unavoidable," you admit with a sniffle. Fuck, you're a mess.

"Yeah. And we don't have to if you don't want to. You're in control here. I'll only touch where and when you ask. Help get what you can't reach. We're done when you say so. Okay?"

"Yeah…" You swallow, nod, come back stronger. A wet smile to answer his, and it's not dread drowning you this time. "Okay."

#kitbug writes things #fhr #chargestep #ricardo ortega #sidestep #riley owens #finally finishing up an old wip #cannibalized from another wip that wasn't working out #oh the things we do to write #anyway uhhhhhh this one's a lil heavier than normal #but it's something i think about a lot so lol

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awhisperinthenight · 9 months

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a moment before disaster in my wip memoirs of nhymisa

Jo reopened her eyes a few seconds later and her gaze fell on the red carpet. Except, there had never been a red carpet in their appartment. And it wasn't a red carpet. It was blood. Her breath hitched.

---

Jo rouvrit les yeux quelques secondes plus tard et son regard se posa sur le tapis rouge. Sauf qu’il n’y a jamais eu de tapis rouge dans leur appartement. Ce n’était pas un tapis rouge. C’était du sang. Son souffle s'arrêta.

#wip : memoirs of nhymisa #my writing #fantasy writing #fiction writing #snippet #oc : jo owen #original fiction #original writing #fantasy #writeblr #creative writing #my stuff #nhymisa's verse #writblr #writers of tumblr #writers community #writing #french writing

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thaliaisalesbian · 8 months

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i get myself twisted in threads

Chapter 16: back in love with you

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 17

“What aren’t you telling me?” Nancy can’t say any of them really paid that much attention to the movie. She knows enough so that if her mom asks, she can tell her the basic plot, but a dark drive-in where she could sneak kisses from both of her boyfriends? That’s too good to pass up.

So is Steve’s head in her lap as they drive home, but she likes to think she knows when Steve and Jonathan are hiding something from her.

“Hagan thought it was a good idea to talk to Steve.” Jonathan says, and okay, she hadn’t realized Jonathan had that much disdain for Tommy Hagan. “Steve shut him down, but he felt bad about it.”

“You said he’s been asking about me.”

“Yeah, but not very often. Is this the first time he’s tried to talk to you again?”

“Yeah.” Steve turns and buries his face in her stomach. “Carol’s tried a little harder, but that might be because her older sister would kill her if she found out.”

“I didn’t realize Carol had an older sister.”

“She graduated high school when we were kids, but until she left for college, she basically raised Carol and I. Taught us to sew and climb trees, and how to sneak into my bedroom window without getting caught.”

“That’s an interesting skill set.”

“It’s helped me out more than once.”

“Why do you suck at sneaking into my bedroom, then?”

“Listen, I never said it helped with any rooms other than mine, okay?”

“Her bedroom isn’t that hard to sneak into, Steve.”

“I know! Mike caught me once, but that’s just because he was coming home. If he hadn’t been outside already, it would have been fine.”

“Wait, I didn’t know that. He actually caught you?”

“Nance, are you spending the night?” Jonathan asks, pausing at the turn onto her street.

“No. I’d like to, but my mom would kill me.”

“Oh, that’s right, I don’t think we messed you up enough, Nancy Wheeler.” Steve sits up a little, kissing all over her face.

“Don’t you dare, Steve! She will ground me.”

“And when’s the last time that worked for her? You’ve become quite the rebel child, Miss Wheeler. Think of the example you’re setting for Mike and little Holly.”

“Maybe you should worry about that last one, Steve. You babysat her, what, three times? And now you’re the only babysitter she likes. She used to semi-behave for me, at least.”

“Really? I didn’t know that.”

“Nance, you could bring her along next time we go to the park.” Jonathan suggests, meeting her eyes in the rearview mirror.

“And use me as free babysitting?”

“We’d all be there, Steve.” Nancy rolls her eyes at him, but she still pulls him closer so she can kiss him again. “And Jon’s right, it’s not a bad cover. Holly’s active, but not so much so that we’d have to be chasing after her all the time.”

“Fine. I concede. Maybe Jonathan has good ideas sometimes.”

“Maybe and sometimes? Someone doesn’t want to make out in my bed tonight.”

“No, Jonathan, I’m sorry, please don’t kick me out.”

The drive ends far too soon.

“He’s okay, right? Even after seeing Tommy?”

“He will be. I think there’s still a lot we need to talk about.” Jonathan murmurs, kissing her before her mom can open the door. “Hi, Mrs. Wheeler.”

“Hello, Jonathan. Did you drop Steve off already?”

“He’s in the car, he’s still on crutches, Mom.”

“Well, I hope you were at least considerate of him while you were at the drive-in. I’ll be seeing you soon, Jonathan.” Nancy waves goodbye before she goes to serve her self-sentencing to her room for the rest of the night.

Unfortunately, her mom follows her up.

“People were asking what you were doing with both of them the other weekend, Nancy.”

“And I told you. Steve’s recovering, and he needs friends. Jonathan and I are helping him. What else did you think was going on?”

“Well, this drive-in business was a little odd, if you ask me.”

“Steve can’t drive right now, Mom. So Jonathan offered to take him, and I wanted to see the movie, too. There’s no crime in that.”

“I don’t know, is there?” The tone stops her cold.

“What are you implying, Mom?”

“Well, I know you dated Steve for a while. I like him, he’s a good, sturdy kind of boy. But now you’re dating Jonathan Byers, and you two keep being seen around town with Steve. It’s kicking up some rumors.”

“What, I can’t have friends now? Don’t be ridiculous, Mom.”

“If you want your reputation to be that of a whore’s, I won’t stop you. Just thought I should tell you what people are saying.”

Nancy’s really wishing she’d taken Jonathan up on his offer, now. Damn the rumors, damn the town, damn her mother.

“If people have nothing better to do than talk about us, then they really should get their own lives. Besides, we know the truth. Steve and I weren’t a good fit, Mom, but he’s still a friend of mine. He went to see Barb’s parents with me, remember? He’s just been having such a hard time lately,” She lets herself tear up a little, “And I just want him to feel like things are back to normal again.”

She’s not sure it convinces her mom, but it works enough that she’s left alone. At least for tonight.

Thankfully, her mom doesn’t bring it up again, and she makes it through to Monday morning without any problems.

“How was the rest of your weekend?” Jonathan waits until they’re dropped Will and Mike off to ask.

“My mom was upset when I got home, but she didn’t bring it up after that night. It was tense, though.” Since they’re still in the car, she can ask. “How was Steve? Is he still worried about Tommy?”

“He was more than okay.”

“You didn’t.” She’s not mad, not really, but she can’t say wouldn’t be a little jealous if they had.

“No, we didn’t. He wanted to wait until you could be there. And I don’t have to tell you that he’s a good kisser.”

“No, you don’t.” Nancy agrees.

“He’s more worried about moving back to his house, I think.”

“What? Why?”

“According to him, he’d be fine to move now. But Hopper and El don’t agree with him.”

“I don’t agree with him! He’s still on crutches, he still has days where he can’t get out of bed on his own.” And it’s probably better for him to be around people just in general, rather than on his own all the time.

“He’s arguing with Hopper about sleeping on the couch, Nance, too much longer and they’re both going to get fed up with it.”

“Think we could say anything to change his mind?”

“Probably not.” Jonathan kisses her before he opens his door. “Let’s just hope Hagan doesn’t have any questions for us.”

“What, you don’t want to be mean to him?”

“It was more fun watching Steve be mean to him, but he felt so bad about it afterwards that it took the glee out of it.”

“Oh, glee, Jon, really?”

“Yes, glee.” He keeps such a straight face while he says it that she can’t help laughing. “Now, Nancy, come on. It’s not that funny.”

“Yes, it is!”

There are people watching them as they walk in, but there are always people watching them, these days.

It’s just getting easier and easier to ignore.

finish on ao3 or continue reading

“Hey, kid, we need to talk.” El’s out of the house—she’s with the other kids at the Byers’—so Steve thinks he knows where this is going.

“Hop, seriously, I’m okay to move back home. I promise.”

“Not just that, Steve. We need to talk about when you’re going back to school, or if you’re going back at all this year. I’ve been talking to some of your teachers, and Jonathan and Nancy have picked up some work for you already.”

“What do you mean?” He’s supposed to graduate this year, he can’t just… walk away from school, can he? “I’m graduating this year.”

“That was before you ended up in the Upside Down and then in recovery for months. According to the rest of the town, you went missing in late November, and it’s the beginning of April now.”

Steve… hadn’t realized, concretely, how much time has passed. Sure, it’s not November anymore, he knows that, but it can’t be April, right? Hop’s got to be joking.

“It’s April 5th, Steve. Classes end for seniors in a month. Of course, under the circumstances, they’re more than willing to give you more time to take your exams. Until everyone else gets out. So, two months.”

“I can try and get caught up in two months.” He can’t, really. Not even with Nancy’s help. He was scraping by in most of his classes as it was. “I want to go back, Hop.”

He wants something to go back to normal. He wants his house back, his room back, and he wants to go to school like none of this ever happened.

He probably won't change in the locker rooms, though. Or play any sports, no matter how much he wants to. Irene and Owens will probably have some words for him if he tries. It’ll invite too many questions about what happened to him.

“You know, I would have taken the opportunity to be school-free for a while longer. You can just repeat the year, go back in September. Give yourself a chance to heal up some more.”

He’s going to be in so much trouble.

“I want to try, at least.” He’s fudged his way through exams before. “What about going back to my house?”

“Once you’re off crutches, you can go back. But, you’re having dinner once a week with me and El. No exceptions. And Joyce will want to talk to you about that, too.”

“You’re not pulling my leg here?”

“No.” Hopper sits next to him, instead of standing over him.

They’ve been fighting over it for… at least a month, probably.

“Why?”

“Joyce and I had a talk. We spoke with Owens and Irene, too. You’re doing much better, kid, you’ve got a lot more use back in your ankles way earlier than they thought you would. Irene’s not going to be coming by every day anymore, it’ll be once a week. And Owens is leaving a list of doctors and nurses to contact if something comes up.”

“And you’re not gonna stop me?”

“Steve, if you want to go back to your house, it’s not really my place to stop you, is it?”

He does, he thinks. But he also thinks he’s going to miss it here. He’s going to miss El, and Hopper.

But it’s probably not feasible—living here while going to school. He’d have to get up even earlier than he does for his swim practices.

“Has Owens said anything to you about playing sports?” He won’t miss basketball that much, not anymore—Hargrove’s kind of ruined it for him. But he will miss swimming and track, not that they have a real team.

They’re not too bad at baseball, though. He’s balanced baseball and track before, he can do it again.

“Not right now, is what I’ve been told. Wait until you’re off of crutches for that one. You are supposed to avoid any contact sports, though. Something to do with that brain damage of yours.”

“It’s not that bad, Hop.” He’d been having fewer headaches before he got stuck, and now they’re down to almost nothing. He’s fine. “That takes baseball out, then.”

“What else were you thinking about? Basketball, baseball, do you just do everything?”

“No, we don’t have a football team.”

“We can have a basketball team and a baseball team but not a football team? I played on the football team in high school. Only for a year, but I did it. What happened to that?”

“Hey, I don’t make the rules, Hop. Swimming and track I’m still good for, though?”

“Not right this minute, no. Don’t get your hopes up too much.”

“But next year?”

“Maybe, kid, I don’t know. I’m not a doctor.” Hopper pauses for a minute. “You’re not going back to school for at least another week, alright, just make sure things don’t get weird again. So you’ve got time to decide if you want to finish out the year or not.”

“Yeah, okay.” He wants to try. He wants to have something normal, and then even if it doesn’t work out he kind of has the best excuse in the book on why he failed this year.

“Maybe take a look at those assignments Nancy and Jonathan picked up for you before making your decision.”

“I’m sure Nance will bring it up eventually.” He wonders how long she’s had them, or if they’ve been getting his assignments for him the whole time. They’re not even in any of the same classes.

“Pasta sound good for dinner? El’s sleeping over with Will, so it’s just us.”

“Yeah, that’s okay.” Hopper leaves him to think about this—it’s not really a big decision, he knows how the year is going to end for him either way, but it feels like one.

<;- 15 17 ->

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minutiaewriter · 1 year

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Heads Up, 7 Up

I was tagged by @vsnotresponding , thank you <3!!

But honestly guys I think we need to change the name of this tag game because I came never keep it at just seven lines lol

Here is an excerpt from Hera: To Catch a Star releasing this coming February

“I will not steal a speeder from a celestial temple.” [Priestess] released her hold on [Stranger] and stepped away from him and Yojackson.

“Ah, it’s not so illegal,” Yojackson assured her, “And speaking of sort-of-illegal things, I don’t know much about the creed of the celestial followers, but I’d like to know why you were in a tavern instead of a temple, priestess. And besides, the celestial child is in on it, so lighten up.”

[Priestess] glared at him, but her chagrin was ignored as the criminal helped [Stranger] into the speeder and seated himself in the driver’s seat. Rynn skirted [Priestess] and situated himself next to [Stranger], who seemed tired but hopeful.

Yojackson cackled and the speeder suddenly lurched forward, throwing them out of their seats. The dunes became a blurred smear of gold along either side of Rynn’s vision, and with every mound they crested the speeder threatened to fly into the air, only to come crashing down onto the land again.

“You couldn’t have done this when it was an emergency?” [Priestess] shouted, gripping the speeder’s wall.

“I had to be careful then. But this one’s stolen.”

I hope this piqued your interest and that you enjoyed! Stay tuned for updates on Hera: To Catch a Star coming in 2023!

🏷️ Tagging: @elijahrichardwrites , @writingpotato07 , @queenofimaginedworlds , @words-after-midnight , @elizaellwrites , @honeysoiair , @gailynovelry if you’re feeling like it, and also anyone else who sees this and wants to participate! The more the merrier!

#hera: to catch a star #hera trilogy #rynn hera #yojackson owens #sneak peek #wip excerpt #upcoming novel #fantasy novel #science fantasy #indie author #fantasy author #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr #writerblr #writing community #writing #writer #authors of tumblr

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phoenixkaptain · 2 years

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Me: I am going to write Kid Luke with Ahsoka

Me: No wait, I gotta make up a whole backstory, good parent Anakin who never falls AU

Me: Now, of course, I need to write about Anakin, Padme, and Obi-Wan having twins, followed by twin content and their parents-

Me: Oh, but I like to imagine what the Force being literally half of Anakin’s DNA means, so maybe I’ll write that into this au

Me: But it would be very fun to explore longsuffering Owen and optimistic Beru raising Eldritch horror abomination Luke, so I have to write that

Me: (and I have to add more Obi-Wan because that man needs joy and I will provide it for him)

Me: I am once again thinking about how to get rid of Palpatine in my Anakin-stay-at-home-dad story and, honestly, I think it would be fun if Luke scares him at age fourteen by being far too connected to the Force and the Force basically telling Palpatine to back away from its son, or else

Me: Luke could and should kill Palpatine (like Legends’ kinda had him do) but it won’t work there and I also think Supreme Galactic Ruler of the Known Universe Luke “Five-Years-Old And Growing” Skywalker is a really funny combo so I’m going to write that

Me: I need Luke to be Supreme Galactic Ruler of the Known Galaxy and I’d like for his advisors to include his aunt, his uncle, his old man uncle, his sister, his sister’s parents, and an astromech droid. Anakin is obviously Captain of Luke’s guard, but I also think that Luke should have really weirdly overly controlling galactic policies. Like, yes, he raised everyone’s pay, but he does so by making it so the only one who decides how much the galactic money is worth is him, and anyone who goes against his ruling shall be punished. Yes, he abolished slavery, but he did so by inadvertently blowing up slavers and feeding the others to the now-free Sarlacc. Yes, he is kind and gracious, but he also gets whiny if he doesn’t get to go flying for a few days. Supreme Ruler Luke also definitely doesn’t understand why duels to the death are bad and he actively encourages them over petty squabbles. People think it’s so that his subjects are forced to rethink what problems they bring to his attention, but it’s actually because he saw a lot of disputes settled between beetles by one beetle eating the other one, and most of his political moves are based on beetles, and no one has quite managed to convince him to base his supreme rule on something else

Me: Also, I should keep writing the one where Luke just kind of acts like a cat

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impossible-rat-babies · 3 months

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wip wednesday!

ty for the tag @coldshrugs <3 im gonna tag (sorry for the possible double tags) @lavampira, @thevikingwoman, @hythlodaes, @fooltofancy, @birues, @galadae, @lilas and whomever else!

replaying ShB and especially the rak'tika greatwoods has me in the goofypool again

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“I knew…”

They speak softly into the thick cool air between them. The sharp humming of the light drenched sky above them looms like a heavy weight across their shoulders—so ready to crush them beneath its weight.

“I knew what was happening—after il mheg, I could feel it. The light.” They glance over at Y’shtola, watching her lips purse and her brow scrunch together.

“And you still feel it?”

They nod, slow and steady.

“In my fingertips—I feel them stiffen, and a tingle when I move them again. A weight in my gut, and an itch at the back of my throat.”

She sighs, yet it does little to ease the worry that holds her shoulders tight and lips pulled to a thin line.

“Forgive me for not having spoken sooner.”

“Nay, I should have spoken my mind soon after arriving Slitherbough. Mistaken as you were to my nature upon meeting again, I would not so easily cast aside that which you beheld.” They pause, a bitter smile coming to their lips.

“A brilliant soul, I have been called before— nomenclature befitting Hydaelyn’s Chosen. And yet it is not Her light which eats away at me now.”

#i think about their friendship in shb a lot and how so much of how they care about each other #they can be honest with each other and when such things are scarce between urianger and the exarch it's nice #that they have this trust to be honest with each other #i wuv them wahhhh #owen writes: wip #ffxiv #shadowbringers spoilers

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shai-manahan · 4 months

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what’s the RO’s heights from tallest to shortest?

Answered this right here. But the ranking is basically:

Alonzo - Owen - Wesley - Jade

#hollowed minds #hollowed minds series #interactive fiction #wip #ask #writing #anon #hollowed minds book one #if wip #interactive novel #e alonzo #owen russell #f wesley #jade stein

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birdclowns · 10 months

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WIP Wednesday

wip from my little. inside of alex and tk's relationship weeks before the worlds biggest proposal fail of the century because I have so many thoughts abt alex . ough

"Have you talked about moving in together more?"

At least his body temperature is finally warmer than this conversation.

"He likes his space, dad."

"Your mother and I liked space too," Owen agrees with a nod. Then, he looks down at the soup in front of him, spoon clinking on the side of the bowl as he stirs, "and then we got a divorce," He adds at almost a whisper, as if he and the vegetables were in on a secret and only they were supposed to hear.

"You and mom also fought constantly," TK finally snaps, pointing at his father with the spoon in his hand, driblets of the broth falling onto the table, "Alex and I don't. We disagree, we don't fight." He ignores the way Owen looks between the mess and his face and stares intently at what's left of his dinner, appetite gone.

"He's disagreeing with you, is more like it," Owen grumbles around the spoon in his mouth.

"Dad I swear to God-"

"Okay! Letting it go," he leans back in his chair, palms up in surrender.

There's a beat of silence, both finishing up their respective meals. Then -

"But do you have a key? Who's watering his plants? Is the one I helped you pick out for him still even alive with how much he isn't there?" Owen pauses, looking at TK with a small frown, "You know you had to pass by his apartment to get here, right?"

Instead of answering, TK backs his chair out from under the table aggressively, letting the squealing of the chair legs skidding on the floor signify the end of the conversation. He grabs both bowls, because he's still a good son and his dad bought him fancy soup because he was cold, and goes to the sink.

everyone else i know of that writes literally has already been tagged I think. but tagging @inflarescent anyways. and. points. you who's reading this 🫵

#shakes tk violently #im almost done w this i have a couple parts left.. and then editing...#owen strand #tk strand #alex 911 lone star #no tarlos what is this #911 lone star fics #wip wednesday #911 lonestar #jasper writes #fic; how quickly we change overnight

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runner-owen · 1 year

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Scene from current WIP, dark themes ahead, it's a gothic novel so, yeah. Lemme know what you think:

The vampires too, did worship our Goddess. Goddess of suffering, goddess of humanity, grandmother of vampires. The massive image turned my stomach. The goddess in her coffin, her face troubled even in death, surrounded by her monstrous children. fangs and wings and claws and tearstained faces- a mockery. A curse. A cruel deviation of the truth. And I had nothing to defend her honor from this ancient depravity and stain on her face.

But I did.

My hand curled around the key again.

A colder hand wrapped around my wrist.

My stomach dropped.

He laughed. his breath chilled my neck.

"You wouldn't destroy such a beautiful thing, would you, Runner?" The Scarred Man whispered.

His hand brushed against the inside of my coat. It was not fear I shivered with.

"Would you destroy it as you so eagerly destroy yourself?" He whispered.

I slammed the heel of my foot on the top of his boot. The Scarred Man shoved me away, and laughed, gripping the dark blonde hair on his head with one clawed hand.

"That!" He cried. "How I've missed it, Runner!" His bright red eyes burned, fangs flashing, the light deepening the claw mark scars of his face. "How I've missed you, feral boy. It's been far too long."

Away from him I stepped, backing closer towards the hideous thing on the wall. I should have brought a blade. I pulled the key from my pocket instead. The smile grew on the Scarred Man’s face.

“You dare show your claws to me?” He said, and in his voice, only joy. “You would repel me with nothing but a tool that is not even your own?”

“I’ve faced you with lesser,” I said. “And I won every time.”

“This is not about winning, Runner,” the Scarred Man said. “I have already won. In your arrogance, you try to delay what has already come to pass.” “You call me arrogant?” I raised my eyebrows.

He looked at me with fondness, as if I were a mere child.

“You haven’t noticed, have you?”

My stomach dropped. I reached into my jacket, and there was nothing within its pocket. He raised one hand, and with it, the journal.

“It is easy to scramble your thoughts,” the Scarred Man said. “Mortal you were born, mortal you will always be. We know - and I most of all - how to control your kind.”

I grit my teeth. A few drops of sweat inched down the back of my neck.

“As the Goddess threw off her chains,” I said, “I would throw off any you dared to put on me.”

“Would I chain you?” He said. “Would I need to chain you?”

I looked at the book in his hand. I blinked. He stood a breath away from me now. He cupped my face with his pale hand.

“I don’t think I would,” he said. “Not once you understand.”

I swung the key towards his neck. He pulled away, tossed the journal to his other hand, and caught my wrist before it could meet his flesh.

“Your defiance delights me, however,” he said. “It reminds me of her.”

I paused. The sweat formed at my temple, despite the chill in the air. He smiled at me, and somehow, it was kind.

“I suppose,” he said, “being compared to the Goddess is a compliment you do not wish to take.”

I searched his face.

“I do not believe you are the god of evil,” I said.

“And when you do,” he said, “you will be mine.”

#runner owen series #novel wip #writing wip #wip stuff #human x vampire #vampire x human #vampire mlm #mlm fiction

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