The first phrase Shane learns in Russian is ‘I love you’
The second and third actually are ‘harder, please’ and ‘yes, sir’, except he doesn’t tell Ilya.
He just springs it on him mid fuck with a perfect pronunciation and Ilya makes a face like he’s just stepped out into traffic and immediately cums so hard his entire body tenses and he gets a leg cramp so bad he falls off the bed.
He’s entirely obscured from view but Shane just hears a tiny confused (but affectionate) little
with ao3 down i hope this reminds us of what a fanfic-less existence looks like. don’t take it for granted! because it sucks not to have it.
fanfic would not exist without the hours of free labour from fanfic writers and volunteer staff. donate to otw if you have the means. taking a second to give kudos is nothing compared to months of work for writers. a comment will probably make their whole day! sharing and reblogging spreads their work. it’s so discouraging when you give your heart to something, only to receive nothing in return.
support fandom creators and staff. they are the heartbeat of everything we enjoy.
writing advice for characters with a missing eye: dear God does losing an eyes function fuck up your neck. Ever since mine crapped out I've been slowly and unconsciously shifting towards holding my head at an angle to put the good eye closer to the center. and human necks. are not meant to accommodate that sorta thing.
other things I'm bitching about but which could still be useful as writing advice for 1 eyed characters:
2. they're going to favor their sighted side, obviously, but it doesn't always manifest in the way you think. when I walk down a hall I walk much closer to the wall on my sighted side than on my blind side. which is the opposite of how it might seem logical to do that bc it means the world at large is on your bad side, but the reason is I can't fucking See the wall if it's right next to me in the blind side and I end up knocking into it.
3. door frames and poles are my enemy. If your character is smart this will not be a problem but for me it is. I am King of walking into shit I could absolutely see but couldn't tell how far away from me it was. on this note, their blind side hand is getting bashed into every jutting out thing in a 5 mile radius.
4. having 0 depth perception is less of a big deal than you'd think it is. Especially with driving. I've become a Much safer and more wary driver because I can't tell how far the other cars are from me. however I fucking suck at parking now. because I can't tell how far the lines are from me either.
5. you know how people who lose limbs get phantom pains? that happens with eyes too but like. phantom sights. for me it's like. a lot of bugs. like every so often my brain will just put something suddenly skittering beside me there. hate that.
6. it is completely possible to "get stuck" somewhere because your ability to tell how wide a space is is just Gone. shopping isles especially where bumping something or Someone is matter of embarrassment or potentially breaking something. it can be legitimately paralyzing and also irritate everyone around you because they can tell there is Plenty of space for you to get your cart through even if you can't.
7. if the eye is still in their skull it can still be the normal kind of painful. Glares off of shiny surfaces causing weird sharp pains you can't figure out the cause of are genuinely one of gods greatest tests of my patience.
I feel like there’s needs to be, like, handbook for authors who post on Ao3 for effective metatext.
By metatext I mean like tagging, summary, and authors notes (especially initial authors notes at the beginning of a fic). The means by which we communicate to our readers what they’re getting into.
Because we kind of all have to learn it by osmosis and there are conventions but nobody’s really taught them at the start, so there’s inconsistencies and misunderstandings or people just not knowing things through no fault of their own.
This ends up breeding frustration and confusion and in the worst cases resentment, hurt, and aggression.
I’m severely tempted to make such a handbook and get it circulating.
Give me overeager virgin Eddie and experienced, but nervous as fuck, Steve who are about to have sex for the first time.
Eddie has no idea what he's doing but he really wants to do it and is on board with basically everything, really. Steve knows what he's doing, but it's the first time in years that he's doing it with someone he really cares about and he doesn't want to screw up.
Their first try lasts two minutes; both coming way sooner than expected because it felt too good.
Their second try (some thirty minutes later) is much better.
My boyfriend, again blending together fanfiction tropes: So what if when you finally find your soulmate, that’s when you discover if you’re alpha or omega, right?
Me, hands shaking as I frantically search for pen & paper: KEEP TALKING
Boyfriend: YES THEY ARE. They communicate via pheromones— LIKE ANTS.
Me: So back to the soulmate thing….
Boyfriend: You could trick them into following orders and thinking they’re dead by spraying them with a spritz bottle. I think they need a queen.
Me: So back to the soulmate thing…. Seems hellish!
Boyfriend: Not really. If being around the other person is what triggers the changes, if you want to go back to normal… all you need to do is leave.
Me, writing: (You found your soulmate. It’s changing you in scary ways. All you need to do is leave… how difficult would it be to leave? What pressures exist to stay?)
tfw you get turned into a monster against your will but thankfully you know a guy who's super practical and skilled in monster killing who won't hesitate to put you down if it means keeping everybody safe and that's a comfort except oh no what's going on he wants to kiss you now you fucked up
Eddie and Steve getting super fucking stoned together and then Eddie stupidly says, "Wonder what would happen if you blew smoke into somebody's pussy..."
And then Steve is like, "Wanna find out?" (also being stupid)
Cut to five minutes later, Steve's dropped his pants and is being pierced by Eddie's cock. Fast, rough, and sweaty. They're moaning and groaning into each other's mouths. Gripping tight to each other's hair.
That's how they start dating. That's how Eddie finds out Steve's trans. That's also how Eddie loses his virginity.
Wanting to spoil Eddie a little, Steve gets tickets for the two of them to see one of Eddie’s favorite metal bands.
He also booked them a hotel room for the night, so they could have fun drinking and dancing all night.
Eddie shows him how grateful he is by ripping those insanely tight leather pants Steve wore to fit in (and to drive Eddie crazy) apart and fucking Steve through the mattress till the morning comes.
Steve struggled to sit properly the next day, whining a little as Eddie kept pinching his ass.
But, all that mattered to him was Eddie. Eddie, who was beaming next to him and occasionally giving Steve’s hand soft kisses as he drove them back home.
Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt “pine” | wc: 942 | rated: T | cw: none | tags: omegaverse, omega Steve, alpha Eddie, scenting, getting together
———
It was hard to tell what Eddie’s true scent was at first, beneath the stink of hospital disinfectant and drugs and pain that lingered throughout his recovery. The more time Steve spent with him, though, the easier it became to detect those hidden notes.
Eddie smelled like a living forest, lush and bright, not just trees but moss and sunlight and birdsong. It reminded Steve of sleepaway camp and chasing Tommy through the woods behind his house and laying in the grass to soak up the warmth of the day. It was familiar and comforting and made Steve’s omega howl to be near the alpha he barely knew. It kept him up at night when his bed didn’t smell right, once the scent of summer sunshine and fresh greenery had finally faded from Eddie’s bloodstained battle vest.
Through long weeks at Eddie’s bedside and driving him to therapy appointments, the alpha’s woodsy warmth kept Steve company while Hawkins fell apart around them. He subsisted on the hints of Eddie that lingered on his clothes after a goodbye hug, the traces that clung to the Beemer’s upholstery after Steve dropped him off. Steve wouldn’t— couldn’t— ask for more. It was enough for a while to have those little pieces, collected and cherished like every tidbit Eddie shared about his life as they grew closer.
Then October tumbled into November and snowballed into December, and the temperature dropped, and Eddie was still there, evergreen sweet. The cold seemed to sharpen his scent into something like pine trees and snow on the frozen ground– crisp and dark, but still earthy and fresh. Steve wanted to smother himself in that smell. Needed it so badly he felt sick.
He tried to surround himself with it. He shivered until Eddie draped his scarf around Steve’s neck, pretended to fall asleep on the couch so Eddie would cover him with the extra quilt from his bed. Each time, he buried his face in the fabric and inhaled Eddie’s scent until he got lightheaded. It wasn’t enough, not like he knew it would be if he could smell it straight from Eddie’s skin, but it was the next best thing.
It was mid-December when he slipped up.
He was sitting on the Munsons’ couch next to Eddie, so close their thighs touched beneath the blanket they shared. The lights were low, just the glow of the television illuminating the snacks strewn across the coffee table. Steve couldn’t even name the movie they were watching, more focused on the commentary Eddie delivered through a mouthful of popcorn.
In their cozy bubble, it didn’t feel like much of a stretch for Steve to rest his head against Eddie’s shoulder when his eyes started to feel heavy. Eddie didn’t skip a beat in his monologue, just leaned his head against Steve’s and wrapped his arm around him. It felt like Steve belonged there– surrounded by Eddie’s warmth, blanketed by his scent, welcomed into Eddie’s space. He could almost purr with the satisfaction of it. He shut his eyes and let himself drift, feeling safer than ever before.
It was Eddie’s voice that eventually nudged him back into consciousness, soft beneath the hiss of static from the television. “C’mon, you can’t be comfortable like that.”
“‘M good,” he insisted sleepily, eyes still closed. He didn’t know why his reply was muffled until he opened his mouth to yawn and his lips dragged across the sweet wintry wood-scented skin of Eddie’s neck. The smell was so concentrated that he had to be right over one of Eddie’s scent glands, so intoxicating that he couldn’t help but nuzzle his nose against it and breathe in until his lungs reached their limit.
Eddie’s sharp inhale broke the spell. He jerked away and retreated to the far end of the couch, bringing his hand up, slow and shaky, to cover his gland. “You like my scent that much, huh?” he joked weakly.
“Sorry, I wasn’t– I didn’t mean to,” Steve tried to explain. It was hard to think with Eddie no longer touching him, the sudden loss of his body heat and scent a shock to Steve’s system. He wrapped his arms around himself. “I mean, yeah, I’ve probably been pretty obvious about it lately but you kind of drive me crazy, smelling like that.”
“Oh.” It was a little alarming, seeing Eddie so still and quiet as he processed the new information. “Oh. How long have you…?”
Steve winced. “April, maybe?”
Eddie laughed, a loud burst that left him gasping. “Oh my god. We could’ve… the whole time!”
“Did I miss something?” Steve asked. Surely Eddie wasn’t laughing at him, mocking his stupid crush. Right?
“I’m obsessed with you, too! I just didn’t–” He waved a hand between them. “I thought, ‘Oh, he’s still asleep, he doesn’t know what he’s doing,’ but no! You were scenting me on purpose!”
“Wait.” Steve blinked at him. “You’re obsessed with me?”
Eddie scooted closer again and rested a hand on Steve’s knee. “Ever since I woke up in the hospital. I kept catching whiffs of coffee cake but there was never any around. Wayne thought I was crazy, he could never smell it.” He grinned. “Once I realized it was you… Well, I was already a little in love with you, but that sealed the deal.”
“Me, too,” he confessed. He laid a hand over Eddie’s, warm and callused and already turning to link their fingers together. “I thought for sure you’d catch on once I started stealing all your scarves.”
“So we’re both a little oblivious,” Eddie grinned. “I guess we better start making up for lost time.”
"Wrong. You are not going to slay me. You are going to remove your armor and set down your weapon, have a good meal — I can tell you haven't had one in a long time — get a good night's sleep, and in the morning you will tell me the name of who sent you, and then you can go home."
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