━━infatuation
❛ maybe it wasn't love just yet, but it was like ❜
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→ stranger things season two
→ book one in the infatuation series
→ steve harrington x fem!oc
→ i do not own stranger things
→ no artwork used is mine
→ highest rankin...
july 29, 2019, infatuation was posted. then shit went down.
i can't begin to explain how goddamn much i love every single one of you reading this. honestly, i wouldn't anywhere near where i am without you guys! you're all loved and cared for, you better not fucking forget that! yes, that is a threat!
this is going to sound cliché, but when i first posted infatuation, i really didn't think it was going to amount to anything. unlike some of my other books, the plot isn't very deep and pretty surface level. olivia clarke-bless her heart-doesn't have a tragic backstory, magical powers, color-changing hair, or enough badassery in her to really cause any significant damage. how this book took off, i'm not sure, but i'm grateful for it nonetheless.
infatuation is almost like a comfort story to me. sometimes i find myself retreading a chapter and going "hey, that's not too bad." while it's by no means a perfect story ( you've seen the grammar errors ), i do think it's pretty okay. i even find myself thinking some of the jokes are kind of funny ( "god, no, i wouldn't be caught dead scooping ice cream" was the peak of my writing ). okay, i'll stop being a stupid little narcissistic and get to the point.
in honor of infatuation's birthday, i've decided to release an alternate epilogue inspired by one of clowdly 's comments. this ending isn't really canon but it could be considered canon if you want it to be. it's not really that long or perfect, but it's cute. without further adieu, here is the alternate ending.
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xii. unchained melody
❤︎
As odd as it sounded, Olivia Clarke would have not wanted to be anywhere else but the large, echoey Hawkins Middle School gym, right next to her father. The booming music of whatever pop song was most popular at the moment bounced off the walls, mixing in with the odors of hairspray and sickeningly strong cologne. Though the smells and sounds were intense and somewhat reminiscent of the Halloween party, everything was so much brighter and lighter.
"You really don't have to be doing this," Scott Clarke's calm voice interrupted the girl's train of thought.
"What do you mean?" her eyebrows crinkled as she sat up straight in her chair. The two had been taking tickets for the highly anticipated Snow Ball since seven. Only at eight-thirty had it occurred to Scott that his daughter was a seventeen-year-old girl who now had a life of her own, one that probably didn't entail helping her dad out with a middle school dance.
