#this is not gonna drag me back into writing fanfic... maybe... probably

[botanicsoul]

Behind the Screen

Pro Hero | Bakugou Katsuki x (fem) Blogger Reader | Aged Up

Part 2 -> Here

𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧. 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘

—

You post it as a joke. Kind of.

It’s late, and you’re curled up in bed with your fanfic draft open and half a Twix in your mouth. Your followers are going wild in the replies, and you’re riding the high of being the “unofficial Dynamight smut queen” of the timeline. You’ve been known for your over-the-top thirst tweets, but this one? This one’s feral.

—

@/blastyourbackout

“Dynamight wouldn’t even take the suit off. He’d fuck you with the gauntlets still on, breathing heavy through gritted teeth, all ‘Shut up and take it—this is what you wanted, right?’��

—

You toss your phone. That’s enough unhinged behavior for the night. Until the morning comes—and you wake up to hell.

Your tweet is trending. His name is trending. People are tagging him.

—

“this is NASTY and i love it.”

“@Dynamightofficial please read this and confirm or deny.”

“If Dynamight didn’t do this, I’d be shocked.”

“SOMEONE CHECK ON HIM”

“@Dynamightofficial thoughts??”

Then it happens.

—

@Dynamightofficial :

“Who tf is behind this account.”

“If you’re gonna talk like that, be brave enough to show your face.”

You nearly throw up. Your DMs? Melted. And sitting right at the top.

[Private Message – @Dynamightofficial]

“You write a lotta shit for someone who hides behind a screen.”

“You really think I’d leave the fuckin’ suit on?”

“Show me your face if you’re gonna say it like you know me.”

Your heart is pounding. And you shouldn’t. But you do. You send a selfie. Just a soft one. T-shirt, messy hair, bare face. You look like someone who absolutely shouldn’t be writing the filth he just read.

There’s a long pause.

He starts to finally type:

“…fuck.”

“You’re cute.”

“like super fuckin’ cute”

“You don’t look like someone who says I’d blow your back out against a fuckin’ window.”

You:

“I mean… would you?”

Him:

“You really wanna know?”

“You clearly think you know it all, writing the way you do.”

“So what—wanna let me show you what it’s really like?”

You pause. Breathless. Fingers trembling.

“Yes.”

⸻

A few days later, the meet-up actually happened.

You gave him your address—half-joking, half-panicking when he immediately replied with a thumbs up and a “Bet.”

You spent the next two days spiraling.

Cleaned every inch of your apartment. Shaved, exfoliated, moisturized places you didn’t even know needed it. Practiced how you’d open the door without looking like you were seconds from passing out. Told yourself it was just casual, just fun, just… whatever. you totally weren’t about to get fucked dumb by your fav pro that you write smut about.

Except it wasn’t. Because now. He’s at your door.

And he’s in the fucking suit.

Mask off. Jaw set. Gloves still on. That big, broad chest rising and falling.

Black and orange, thick with tension and sweat and that sharp smoky scent that clings to him after a patrol. His hair’s a mess. One gauntlet is attached, the other dangling from his hip. And he’s just standing there—broad, massive, silent—like he owns the whole building.

You freeze. Your heart slams.

“…Hi,” you manage to say.

His eyes drag over you—down your legs, over the shorts you probably could’ve made smaller and the tank top that wasn’t technically meant to be seductive, but absolutely became that under stress.

“Damn,” he mutters. “You look even better when you’re nervous.”

You try to laugh but it comes out breathless. “You really wore the suit?”

“uuuh yeah? did you think I was gonna show up here in a hoodie after all the shit you wrote about this thing?” He steps closer. “Thought I’d let you see it up close before I ruined your sheets.”

Your knees go weak.

You try to respond—something witty, something smug—but your words get caught somewhere between your throat and the fact that he’s already inside. Pushing the door shut behind him. Glancing around like he’s checking for cameras, or exits, or maybe just where he’s gonna lay you out first.

“You ready?” he asks, voice low. Rough. Already undoing the gauntlet from his wrist with one hand, tossing it aside.

You nod, dazed. “Yeah.”

He smirks—steps in closer until you’re backed up against the nearest wall, breath catching.

“Good,” he murmurs. “Because I’ve been losing sleep over the way you said I’d fuck you in this suit.”

You stare up at him, completely wrecked just by his presence, and whisper, “Was I right about some of this stuff I wrote?”

He dips his head down, lips brushing yours—barely.

“I’m here to fact check it.” he growls.

You shudder.

He pulls back just enough to smirk, eyes dragging down your body like he’s mentally ripping off every layer.

He hasn’t even touched you properly yet—but your back’s against your door, your legs are trembling, and Bakugou’s towering over you like he’s already won.

“That tweet got me thinkin’ about you all fuckin’ day, baby. Let’s see if you write better when you’re sore.”

His hero suit creaks with every breath. Heavy-duty gauntlets still locked around his wrists. His undersuit clings to him, black and orange and unforgiving across his chest, his thighs—everything.

“You scared?” he asks, voice low. His hand comes up—gloved fingers trailing under your jaw, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “Or just nervous I’m actually gonna live up to that filthy little imagination of yours?”

Your breath catches.

“…both.”

He smirks. Then his mouth is on yours.

It’s not sweet. It’s not careful. It’s everything you wrote about—demanding, rough, obsessed. He kisses like a man starved. Like he’s been reading your tweets on loop.

And god, when his hand slides down your waist—those big gloved fingers gripping your ass, hoisting you up—your back hits the wall and you let out a soft, stunned whimper.

“That the sound you make when you’re not behind a screen?” he growls, lips dragging along your neck. “Fuckin’ hell, you’re even better in person.”

You try to answer, but he’s already slipping one hand between your thighs, dragging his knuckles over your heat—still covered by your shorts.

“Wrote that I’d be mean with it,” he murmurs. “That I’d tease you. Make you beg.”

His gloved finger presses just right over the damp spot in your underwear.

“So beg.”

Your nails dig into his shoulders. You feel insane.

“P-Please.”

He groans. “That all I get after all those filthy paragraphs?”

“Dynamight—”

His eyes flash. “Katsuki.”

You pant, skin burning.

“Please, Katsuki.”

“Atta fuckin’ girl.”

He carries you to your room practically kicking the damn door down. Your back hits the mattress, but he doesn’t follow right away. He stands at the edge of the bed, breathing heavy, gaze dark and hungry.

His suit’s half-unzipped now—exposing his chest, glistening with sweat and tension—but everything else stays on. That thick black material clings to his arms and thighs like sin. The gauntlets drop to the floor with a heavy thud, but the gloves? Still on. And he flexes his fingers slow—just to watch you squirm.

“You’re fuckin’ dangerous,” he mutters, eyes dragging over your body like he’s trying to memorize it. “Sittin’ there on your little blog, makin’ people think you’ve got me figured out.”

Your thighs squeeze together. He notices. Smirks. “Lemme show you how right you were.”

He crawls over you like a storm. Muscles shifting under his suit, voice dipping low, filthy, as he shoves your shirt up, lips ghosting over your stomach.

You arch when his teeth graze your hip. “Katsuki—”

“That’s right, baby,” he mutters, pulling your shorts off slow. “Say my name when you write about this later too.”

He pushes your thighs open, and he goes down. Tongue eager. Desperate. He eats you out like he’s proving a point—like he’s got something to prove to every single tweet you’ve ever posted. Groaning into you, gripping your thighs tight like he wants to leave handprints. You’re moaning, shaking, gripping the sheets, and he’s just eating it up—literally.

He comes up with his mouth slick and eyes wild. “Not even close to done with you.” And he isn’t.

He flips you. Presses you into the mattress. One hand on your hip, the other grabbing your wrist and dragging it up the bed.

“Hold that headboard, princess.” You feel him line up—still in the damn suit—and your breath catches as he sinks in.

Slow. Deep. Bruising.

“Fuck,” he hisses, jaw clenched. “You feel like I imagined. So fuckin’ tight, so wet—shit.”

You cry out. He starts moving. Harder. Deeper.

Every stroke is a claim. His hand slides down your back, then back up to wrap around your throat—not choking, just holding. Just letting you feel it.

“Write about this next time” he growls into your ear. “Write about about me makin’ you cum multiple fuckin’ times.”

You whimper—high, breathy, wrecked.

“That’s right. Take it. You wanted this.”

“I did,” you gasp. “I wanted you—”

“You fuckin’ got me now.”

When you fall apart—completely, wildly, back-arching and moaning his name like a prayer—he doesn’t stop. Doesn’t even slow.

Because he’s obsessed now. Addicted.

Your thighs are trembling. Your voice is hoarse. Your sheets are a mess—twisted, damp, clinging to your skin like the heat of him isn’t already enough.

He’s still going.

“One more,” he grits out, thrusts snapping into you slow and deep. “C’mon, baby—just one more for me.”

You’re barely hanging on—nails dragging helplessly down his back, vision blurry with overstimulation, body trembling under him as he rocks into you, all tight grunts and low, broken groans.

“You’re fuckin’ perfect,” he pants, sweat dripping down his temples. “Takin’ me so good—fuck—you feel like you were made for me.”

You moan, shattered.

He growls, fucks you harder, chasing his release like a wildfire. And when he finally gets there—when you clench around him, gasping out his name in a breathless sob— He snaps.

“Knew it,” he groans, hips stuttering. “Knew I’d fill this pussy the second I saw you.” oh, and he does. Deep. Warm. Heavy. Flooding you.

He keeps moving—shallow, deep rolls—just to push it in. Just to feel it drip. Just to make it last. His head drops to your shoulder, lips brushing your skin.

You barely register him pulling out until you feel it—messy, hot, dripping down your thighs.

“fuuuck you’re beautiful” he murmurs smirking down at you. Wrecked, ruined, glowing. He lays down beside you, just looking at you like you were a fucking trophy.

He then reaches for his phone.

��

[New Tweet – @Dynamightofficial]

“Just fact-checked one of your little fantasy tweets. 11/10 accuracy. Would reread. Would re-enact.”

—

You see what’s he doing and it snaps you out your daze, your eyes go wide. “You didn’t—!”

“Too late,” he shrugs. “Let ‘em guess which one it was.”

You grabbed your phone just as quick to quote it.

—

[New Tweet – @blastyourbackout]

“Just know the gloves stayed on.”

—

The internet breaks.

You can barely feel your legs.

And Katsuki Bakugou? THE pro hero Dynamight?

He’s already rolling over, tugging you to his chest, muttering in your ear, “Hope you’re not tired, princess. I’ve got a lot more tweets to prove right.”

[grlcarcass]

Hiii I love your work sm!

I was wondering if you could write something with Steven Adler, I love him so much. Maybe something smutty but still cute? Idk this is the first time I’m asking on here so I’m kinda nervous and don’t really know what to ask, I’m just a sucker for Steven 😔❤️🙏

baby blonde - steven adler fanfic

taglist: @brokenglassb1tch @californiaahunny @tranquilitybasegrunge

content: smut (18+), mostly fluff

a/n: OKAY I KNOW I PROMISED A DUFF AND TOMMY FIC WHICH WILL COME SOON… but i have such a soft spot for steven and ive been wanting to write for him for a long time <3 hope you love it anon! thanks for the love !!

The rain had started sometime after lunch, light at first, just a whisper on the roof of the cheap little motel. Now it came down hard, tapping and hissing against the windows like it wanted in. She’d pulled the curtains closed an hour ago, not out of modesty but to trap the soft amber light of the bedside lamp in with them.

The TV was on but muted, playing some old sitcom with bright colors. The room smelled faintly of cheap soap and the cherry cola Steven had spilled earlier across the table.

Steven was stretched out beside her on the bed, shirtless, damp curls tucked messily behind one ear. He hadn’t stopped touching her since they got back from the diner down the road. Her thigh, her hip, her wrist. Nothing demanding. Just, attached.

“You’re warm,” he mumbled, voice sticky and soft like honey, pressing his cheek to her shoulder.

“I’m human, Stevie. That’s kind of the deal.”

He let out a dopey laugh against her skin. “No, I mean like… extra warm. You’re warmer than me. I think you’re hiding a little furnace in there.”

“Maybe I’m just turned on,” she teased, smiling at the quiet gasp he gave.

He blinked up at her, eyes wide and full of that boyish mischief that never really went away. “Are you?” he asked, breath catching on the edges of the question like he wasn’t sure if he was ready for the answer or desperately needed it.

She leaned in just enough to brush her nose against his. “I could be.”

Steven practically purred, sliding his palm down to her waist, thumb slipping under the hem of her T-shirt. “Baby,” he said, drawing the word out slow. “Don’t mess with me like that. I’m fragile.”

“You’re not fragile,” she whispered, dragging her fingers through his curls. “You’re just sweet.”

His lashes fluttered a little, cheeks pink. “Same thing when it’s raining and you smell like my favorite lotion.”

That made her giggle. And God, the way he looked at her when she did, like she’d just said the most brilliant thing he’d ever heard. Steven Adler was a lot of things reckless, loud, sweaty, but right now, he was hers. Mellow, touch starved, a little bratty but never cruel. He reached up and tugged gently at the hem of her shirt.

“You gonna take this off for me?”

She hummed. “What do I get in return?”

Steven lit up. “My undying love and probably like… two orgasms.”

“Two?” She raised a brow.

“I’m ambitious,” he said, chest puffed, though it deflated the second she lifted the shirt over her head. His hands immediately landed on her hips, thumbs tracing the dip of her waist. “Jesus. You’re unreal. You’re like… a sculpture. A sculpture that moans.”

She laughed again and leaned down to kiss him, slow and warm, her mouth dragging over his in a way that made him twitch beneath her. She moved to straddle his lap, and he groaned, breath catching high in his chest.

“Ohh, yeah,” he whispered, almost reverent. “Fuck, you’re mm. C’mere.”

His hands slid up her back, then down again, reverent and worshipful but greedy too, as if he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to memorize her or consume her. He tilted his hips up into her instinctively, a tiny rut of desperation he tried to play off with a grin.

“You’re so easy,” she teased, rolling her hips once in return. “You start melting the second I get on top of you.”

Steven moaned, actually moaned, and laughed at himself as he did. “I can’t help it,” he said, pulling her down to nip at her throat. “You make me stupid. You make me wanna beg.”

She kissed the corner of his mouth, down to his jaw. “You are begging.”

“Not yet,” he whispered, eyes flickering open, glazed and needy. “But I will be.”

They’d shed the rest of their clothes slowly, punctuated by kisses, ticklish touches, and Steven’s sleepy little whimpers when her mouth got too close to his hipbone. He was sensitive there, his whole lower stomach, actually. She knew it, and he knew she knew it.

“Don’t be mean to me,” he muttered when she licked just above the waistband of his boxers. “You know that spot makes me crazy.”

“I like when you go crazy.”

“I like when you touch me right there,” he admitted, head falling back into the pillow. “Makes me feel like I’m about to explode.”

She watched the rise and fall of his stomach, how it jumped under her mouth when she kissed that spot again, slow and open mouthed.

Steven whimpered. Whimpered.

“Oh, baby,” she cooed, crawling up his chest, grinding slow against the heat of him. “You’re so easy to ruin.”

“Ruin me then,” he pleaded. “I’m yours.”

His voice cracked like he meant it too hard, and it hit her in the gut. He didn’t always say things like that, not with such conviction. She looked down at him: bare, flushed, damp curls fanned across the motel pillow like a little crown of chaos.

So she did ruin him, slowly, sweetly. Her hips worked against his until he was choking out gasps and clutching at her thighs. He kept saying her name like it was the only word he remembered, all breathy and desperate, hips twitching as she teased him just short of where he wanted her.

Later, when they were both soft and buzzing, the rain still pelting the windows, Steven rolled over and grabbed two plastic coffee stirrers from the motel table.

She blinked. “What are you doing?”

“Stuff,” he said seriously, twirling one between his fingers. “Stay still.”

She did mostly because she was curious, and yelped when he started gently drumming on her ass with them, all rhythmic and goofy.

“Steven! You’re insane.”

“Your ass was right there!”

He drummed a little more, until she started to squirm, then tossed the stirrers to the side and buried his face in the small of her back with a dramatic sigh.

“You’re everything,” he mumbled, voice muffled by skin.

“What?”

“I said you’re everything. Everything I want. Everything I need. All of it.”

She turned over, facing him, tracing the curve of his jaw with her finger. “You get real mushy after sex.”

“Only with you,” he whispered, then added, quieter, “Don’t go anywhere, okay?”

“I’m not.”

Steven smiled like it physically hurt him to contain it, and pulled her against his chest. He smelled like her now like sweat and lotion and motel soap. He pressed his lips to the top of her head and sighed, his voice still soft and shaking from everything they’d just done.

“Good,” he said. “Then I can die happy. Or at least nap real good.”

She laughed, tangled up in him, cheek to his chest as the rain kept coming down.

And he did nap, drooling a little against her shoulder with the baby sticks still tucked under the pillow.

a/n: hope u love it anon! requests are piling up! Hooray!! dont feel shy to ask again<3

[skyesdaisys]

Hi! Love your work, could you write a dick Grayson fanfic abt him and a quiet female reader warming up to each other (set between season 1 and 2)?

yes, of course!!!! god, i've wanted to write for titans on here so bad i just didn't have the inspo so thank you<333

—

talk to him

titans dick grayson x fem!reader

sunmary: you weren't exactly much of a people person. especially since you were 1 of 2 adults living in a huge tower in san francisco, watching over 3 kids you don't really talk to outside of training. and the only other adult being closed off so who knows what'll happen when he decides to talk to you out of no where

cw: not much, there's just some fluff with a teaspoon of angst because of communication issues (they both suck at small talk and beyond)

a/n: idc what anyone says about this show, it's given me so much comfort and a lot of fun and likable characters. so i'm so glad i can write for them as long as you guys send requests for them. as well as other characters from other shows like yellowjackets and etc. also i love dick grayson, even though he can be a bit annoying in this show (that i can admit) but he's hot so ajsjfndmfmf. also, i'm sorry it took sooooo long, writers block got to me badly these past few months, so i apologize if it's cringey and awkward. but i do give the benefit the doubt here because this story is suppose to be like that (also the fact i'm projecting my "bad at small talk" trait here). two grown adults that can't seem to have a normal conversation, like at all

after the trigon incident you were dragged in by circumstance, you were the only other adult to volunteer to help dick with... whatever he was doing. you didn't have any life to go back to anyways, and you made a connection to everyone else so why part ways and it be unlikely to see them again. sure, you weren't particularly close with the kids, but, what are you supposed to do in order to bond with them? so that left dick in titans tower, but he wasn't as much of a talker as you outside of training.

everyday for the past few weeks have been, eat, train, sleep, repeat on a loop, no 'how was your day' questions, because the days are always the same so there wasn't any point of asking. and you could tell the kids were getting bored of it, very fast, and you could not blame them. being stuck in a repeating pattern with nothing else happening started getting old after the first couple weeks. so, you didn't really know how long it would take til something changed, it couldn't be like this forever.

during this time, you admired the grayson from afar, he was attractive, what else could you say? you weren't an idiot. and you also were aware of his previous entanglements with kory and you didn't wanna be involved in that. and, well... you felt like a teenage girl having a crush on a guy who was going through some shit, so it was better not to bother him.

and not being much of a talker doesn't make the conversation about feelings be any better. like, maybe this was attraction and nothing more? you were aware of the difference between liking someone physically and liking them emotionally (specifically in a romantic sense). but even as you admired him, you learn things about him, paying attention to the little things. deep down, he cared for other people, if he didn't, he wouldn't have taken rachel in and helped her, and he wouldn't have done the same for gar or jason either. people just have their own way of showing their love and care.

but your admiring wasn't exactly subtle. rachel had noticed it when you were looking at dick from across the room, talking with jason. the roth wasn't sugarcoating anything when it came to this, "you keep staring, you're probably gonna be capable of shooting lazers from your eyes." and you knew she was joking around but she caught you by surprise, making you face the young girl. "why is it any of your business?"

"because it's kind of sad seeing you pine for him like this." she points out, "and also, gar and jason made a bet whether or not you'd confess. we have eyes, you know?" and she lightly bumped your shoulder with hers with a smile on her face, "and i'm sure dick feels the same way, though he's not very good of showing it."

"that is ridiculous." you shake your head, "one, i don't like him. not like that. i just think he's cool."

"are you sure about that?" the roth rose her eyebrow, "talk to him." but you were not moving from where you were so rachel decided to take matters into her own hands, she then gave you a push (a literal one) towards him, and now you couldn't run away. all you could say was, "hey..."

"hey." he responded. jason just stood there awkwardly in between the two of you, "okay, well uh—" he pretends to look at a watch that's not even on his wrist, "look at the time, i must be going." and he had immediately ran out of there before dick tried to stop him. there was an silent pause and you were trying to figure out what to say, but before you could, he asks, "do you want some coffee?" all you did was nod. after that, there was even more silence, you two haven't had a conversation that wasn't training related in like, a while. it just felt like you were both strangers who didn't know each other nor were you fond of one another.

"you're just as bad at small talk as i am, huh?" you finally had spoken up. and dick just shook his head, "i don't know what you're talking about, i know how to make small talk."

"oh really?" you rose up your eyebrow, "okay mr. 'i know how to make small talk', what do you wanna talk about? and please, don't let it be training related. because if i have to hear you talk about that one more time, my head is gonna explode." you tried to look irritated, but he could notice a small smile on your face. then he immediately went into the 'deep, emotional' stuff, "you never told me why you came here. you just did, and i'm surprised you stuck around as long as you have."

you answered it anyway, because why not, "well, it's not like i have anywhere else to go." you set down your drink, making direct eye contact at him, "besides, the second i got here, and realized how big this place is and i have my own room... what, did you expect me to pass it up?" and you ended up making him laugh, which was surprising, "what is so funny, i'm just being honest." you were unsure why he was laughing, so you just took a sip of your coffee. he explained, "your honesty is refreshing, that's all."

"really?" and he nodded as a reply. you just sighed, taking your coffee and leaving. it's not like you had anything else to talk about and just sitting there would make it more awkward, so you just left. does it make it any less weird? absolutely not.

you guys didn't talk much after in the next few days, up until you decided to play hero on solo when you see a woman getting mugged by this guy in a mask. it was like one of the many movie cliches that you see brought into reality.

too bad it didn't turn out like expected, where you got shot in the leg. thankfully, the kids were able to track you down and bring you to the infirmary, gar was trying his best to patch you up and rachel was there for emotional support. as for jason... there wasn't much else he can do than just stand watch, up until dick had walked in with a worried expression, and the three teens immediately rushed out of there as soon as he walked in the room. you could've left if you wanted too but, obviously you couldn't.

"jesus fuck, you could've gotten yourself killed, what were you thinking?" all of his emotions were being let out in that moment, it was the most emotion you've seen him express towards you in like... ever. yet you couldn't help but be a bit sarcastic, "yeah, keep yelling... it's not like i'm literally a few feet away from you or whatever."

dick sat on the edge of the bed and started to explain, "sorry, it's just... when i heard what happened, i didn't know how to feel, or express it correctly." he gently set his hand on your injured leg, softly, "just if anything happened to you, i—"

"i'm tougher than you think, grayson." you reassured him, and you noticed a tiny smile creeping up on his face.

"i know it's just... i don't wanna lose anyone else."

you lean up a bit to set your hand on his shoulder, "i'm not going anywhere, dick." you then stopped for a second as you come to realize, "and we just had a conversation that didn't involve small talk. maybe i should get myself hurt more often." you were obviously joking at that last part, but dick's reaction to it was priceless, "i'm kidding. you are just... not what i expected."

"the feeling is mutual."

a part of you wanted to kiss him, that it felt right, but another part was saying how the timing of it all wasn't. and maybe these feelings you're having are actually real. because now, there was something in your heart that was growing that wasn't just admiration, and it felt weird, but a good weird.

maybe when the timing is right, they'll get to it, but until then, your growing friendship in the moment is enough for now.

[sim0nril3y]

First Meeting

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader

Scenario: Being dragged out for the night with friends Simon find himself desperately trying to be alone when a girl with a broken shoe stumble across him.

Note: Set in 2014

Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), briefs mentions of abuse, mentions of smoking, mentions of alcohol, suggestive conversation, mentions of age gap, derogatory comments. Note: I made this an OC rather than a Reader because she has her own backstory and family and dreams that may not align with the whole Reader aspect of writing. If you guys do want something like that let me know and I'll see if I can work something out.

30-08-2020 Edit: I’ve updated this fanfic to be a reader rather than OC.

Returning from deployment never really changed for Simon. It wasn’t something he ever enjoyed. There was something about the regiment of the forces that grounded him, something about the strict timelines and regulations. None of that mattered back home. It wasn’t like he could speak to his "friends" about the trauma of being away in war-torn countries. It wasn’t like they even asked; they knew better.

Occasionally on nights out Simon would get asked the rude question of his death tally. He’d simply brush off the question. Honestly, he wasn’t sure if he had a reasonable answer to it anymore. No, instead he would pretend like he didn’t hear as other friends chastised for even asking that sick question. Why was it sick? Did they not think of him as a killer? Maybe that tainted their idyllic persona of the perfect solider. Simon knew that war was disgusting and bloody and each time he took another life a little bit of his own chipped away too.

Stand outside he brought a cigarette to his lips, inhaling slowly and just enjoying the cold winter air. “Bollocks…” A voice slipped from beside him, glancing over his shoulder to see the slight frame of a woman bent down trying to repair the band of her high-heel. As always, he stayed quiet, used to just observing and not interrupting the flow. “Need some help, sweetheart~” A drunk came stumbling in her direction.

In an instant she shot to her feet, stumbling in her broken heel as you turned to face the offending man. “Oh-” “Gonna catch y’death out here, sweetheart. Specially in that little dress…” He commented and Simon gave himself a moment to take in your outfit, it was particularly short from a night-out in January, not that any of the other birds were dressed any different. “Why don’t we get a taxi back to my flat.” He offered and Simon saw the way your shoulders seemed to tense at the suggestion. “Oi…” His voice began before his brain registered that this was a poor idea. “Fuck off and leave her alone.”

“The fuck you think you are?” Came a drunken drawl back in his direction. “Think I’m gonna be your problem if you don’t leave her alone.” He rose then, towering over the two of them you, double both your weight, double both your size. “Pshh… fuckin’ have the slag…” Drunkenly he turned and stumbled back into the club. “Thanks…” Your voice was small as you tilted your had up to make eye-contact. “S’nothing…” Then turning he moved back to where he was sitting.

“Mind if I join you?” Your voice was quiet, flasing a packet of cigarettes in his direction. “Not gonna stop you.” Simon answered with a short shrug. “Fuckin’ shoe…” You grumbled under your breath before joining him delicately, sitting close enough that it looked friendly but far enough away to give him plenty of space. It a light voice your informed him your name. It was pretty. It suited you. The way your voice cut through the cold air, warm personality shining even on this night.

Simon didn’t reply, simply continued to smoke his cigarette in the quiet whilst you lit up your own beside him. “Y’even old enough to be in there?” Suddenly you looked at him before snickering. “Turned 21 months ago.” You announced proudly. “Even got my ID to prove it.” Fuck, you was young. 9 years younger than him, in fact. Whilst he was being beaten and abused by his sick father you was just coming into this world. Fuck, don’t think about any of that. “So, do I get to know your name? Gonna have to tell the story of how a dashing smoker saved me from a weirdo.”

Dashing? Were you flirting with him? You… were way out of his league. Jesus, why was you even paying him any mind when you could go home with practically any lad in there. Why did that sentiment bother him so much? “Simon.” He ground out finally, putting a firm stop to his inner monologue. “Nice name.” “No, it’s not. Just a name.” He couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at his lips. “Don’t be stupid.” He watched the way your pretty face contorted into a smile and then fell into a fit of giggles. It was fucking bliss. The way that you laughed. It was almost fucking musical, or at least it was to Simon’s ears. “Nice fuckin’ name…” He repeated shaking his head. “Kid, you’ve got to work on technique a bit.” Then shaking his head as he took another long drag of his cigarette.

“Well, maybe you could help with that…” Your voice was suggestive and inquisitive, putting the question out there loosely enough that he could see it as a joke or an invitation. “M’sure there are plenty boys your age that could help with that.” There was finality to his tone that even you could sense. Jesus, you were 21 by your own confession. You was so fresh and new to the dating scene. He, on the other hand, was just beginning his 30s, though his years of service made him feel a lot older. There was no way he could just fuck around with a girl like you. It wouldn’t fair.

Sensing his apprehension you simply shrugged your shoulders, as carefree as ever and then muttered. “Maybe~” Nabbing a nearby empty cigarette packet and jotting down your details onto the card before sliding it in his direction. “Guess if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

A flurry of girls stumbled from the club, surrounding her in a moment in a loud chatter of excitement. “We’ve been looking for you everywhere!” “C’mon, next club~” “Who is that?” “What happened to your shoe?” The questions buzzed around his mind and you kept his gaze until whisked away by her friends. “Fuckin’ hell…” Cursing under his breath as he inspected the packet between his fingers, taking the final drag of his cigarette and then flicking it aside.

Masterlist | Ask | 28-08-2023

[voltronthelostlion]

Me, July 2017: i love VLD! lemme write a fanfic!!!

*starts writing VTLL and goes on a bunch of long breaks because it's not fun anymore since starting high school, and there's just too much going on irl*

Me, during 2020 lockdown: i should probably write some more for VTLL. i'm bored, life's scary, and i miss writing

*more long breaks (at least one part published per year)*

Me, August 2023: i hate VTLL and i hate writing it, but I feel guilty for dragging it out for so long and giving up right when season 8 writing started happening. lemme publish something and make y/n get a dream that foreshadows the finale episode and title it: “Part Forty One: Sacrifice or Die” to scare readers 😼

*proceeds to go on another long hiatus*

Me, May 2024: huh, someone keeps commenting on VTLL on Wattpad and I keep getting emails. Lemme check it out. I should probably finish writing it, I’m so close. omg wait, lemme upload on ao3 and quotev too!! OH and i can bookbind it like i’ve been seeing on tiktok!!!!!! wait i should edit it beforehand.

Me, August 2024: I grinded these last few parts, even though I don’t love VTLL at all. Oh well. It’s done on Wattpad—47 parts, some side stories, and 7 years later—hooray. Maybe I’ll write an epilogue. I don’t really care about this fic anymore, it’s way too cringey yikes. whatta shame cause i love VLD :/

Me, December 2024: huh, I can’t figure out what to do with my WIP or Batman fanfic, but I really wanna write something :( but i don’t want to start something new waittttt hehehehe, I'm gonna return to VLD and revamp my VTLL fanfic oh, what if I rewrite VTLL’s first few chapters? And then I won’t cringe anymore? what could possibly happen?

Me, by December 30, 2024: *splits VTLL into three volumes and completely rewrites/guts some stuff, and chapters 1-16 are officially done (and I don’t cringe reading them)* Wow 🧍🏻‍♀️ What have I turned VTLL into?

Me, March 2025: Why on earth did I come back to VLD VTLL haunts me atp it’s really not that serious, why am i going cuckoo thinking up stuff to add

[stardreamerl0ve]

I really like your fanfic! I'd like to know how you see the relationships of Peter/Sandra and Hugo/Sandra🥺

!! Thank you so much for asking!

Short answer: whatever’s most convenient for the fic I’m currently writing, haha.

Long answer: okay, so, we're gonna need two parts for this, and maybe also a cut because the long answer got LONG. So!

Peter and Sandra, to me, are about the fact that regardless of anything and everything else, these two know each other. Like, "I've seen you at your worst, I know the things that keep you up at night and the things you dream of and the ways you hide from the world when you're scared" levels of knowing each other. They've saved each other's lives at least once each and probably more, and I think that's given them a kind of trust that runs bone-deep: it's not the sort of thing where you trust someone not to hurt you or not to lie to you, but if one of them was alone or desperate or needed something, the other would be there, no questions asked. (One of the things that makes me insane about them is that, in a way, Peter got Sandra out—we don't know how much he risked to warn her, but given that they were working for opposing crime bosses it probably wasn't nothing. And it's partially because of that warning that Sandra was able to take over the bar and get out of the criminal life, at least until prohibition dragged her back.) So I think, whether they've admitted it to themselves or to each other, they are extremely ride-or-die for one another.

I also think that Sandra's probably right, and they are bad for each other, or at least have been. I think Peter would tear his own beating heart out for anyone he loves but especially Sandra, and Sandra neither wants that level of sacrifice from him (because she wants him to have something better!) nor is she prepared to know what to do with that (see "That's . . . unexpected" as a response to Peter confessing to her crime). I think Sandra has more moral qualms than Peter—where he sees himself as neutral even if he's aware his job isn't generally great, she never wanted to do this kind of thing and she's keenly aware of it—and so she might have a couple mixed-up emotions about his willingness to forgive her for absolutely anything. Also, pre-prohibition, it's hard to go straight if your closest friend is actively working for a crime boss (a crime boss that killed yours, to boot). And post-Nightcap-and prison, if the bartender talked to Peter, well—it's hard to go straight if your closest friend is actively planning an act of vengeful murder and doesn't care if she destroys herself in the process. It is far too easy, here, for them to drag each other down.

However, I don't think they have to stay bad for each other. I think they genuinely want what's best for each other, and post-game, given time and the space to do so (and also maybe two other people who they're forming meaningful connections with, so they aren't the sole target of each other's worst impulses), I think they could find something that works for them. I tend to avoid distinguishing between romantic and platonic, personally, so the way I see it is that, fundamentally, they care about each other. If it was doable, and if it would make the other person happy, they'd want to be in each other's lives. (And I think it would make them happy, so.)

I have about a metric ton of headcanons about what their relationship looks like over the 6+ years they've known each other (and six is the absolute bare minimum, by the way, in my head it’s more like decades), but that will have to be another post, because this one's already getting long and we're only halfway through.

Speaking of halfway, though . . .

If Peter and Sandra are the "years and years of history" kind of messy, then Hugo and Sandra are the "one colossal fuckup" kind of messy. This is heavily influenced by my own playthrough, where when I started case 0 I ended up liking Hugo way more than I expected, and so I spent the whole case trying to befriend him only for THAT to happen. (Fun fact, if you got attached to both Hugo and Alina in case 0, the one-two punch of "I'm arresting you" straight into "Alina's dead" is absolutely devastating. Ask me how I know!) Anyway, this very much defined how I see them: what happens when you thought, against all odds, you were making friends with someone, and then they betrayed you and ruined your life on top of it? What if you made the deliberate decision to try to believe in someone, and then they proved you horribly, horribly wrong?

Then you have case 4, and I think from there it depends on what ending you pick (assuming one of the golden endings, because otherwise the answer is "she hates Hugo forever" and honestly, I can’t blame her.) If she flees Bukovie then I think the answer is that she and Hugo come to an understanding, and they probably never talk again but they leave at least able to live with with how things ended. If she stays, though, then things get complicated, because Hugo is still the person that got her arrested and ruined her life, but now he's also the person helping her navigate her case and working to get her a reduced sentence and visiting her in prison. I think there's a whole lot of tangled-up resentment there, about 50% of which is justified and 50% of which is . . . not unjustified but is also caught up with the guilt and the hurt of it all.

And on top of that, the entire time, everything that might have made them friends in the first place is still there. Sandra is just as sharp and clever and determined as she was when they met, Hugo is still too much fun to tease and still has that same enduring sense of justice, and they are both still the people who, at heart, wanted to make a place where people could be feel safe and at home. But also, the past two years have changed them, and broken them a little to boot. So not only do they have to reckon with that, but also, the other person is a constant reminder of it, because they were the catalyst for it all. (And, this is pure headcanon, there's no textual support for it, but I like to think that part of why Hugo lets you keep the bar open is because he regrets what he did to Sandra, and he can't quite bring himself to do it to you.)

I have a running joke with my irl friends that Sandra is "everyone's ex," and for Peter that comes from the fact that I think they're actually exes, but for Hugo that comes from the specific hurt of "oh, so you were always capable of changing and realizing that sometimes the law is wrong and does more harm than good, but not in time to not send me to prison over it." (Olivia Rodrigo's "good for you" is not really an applicable song here, but it's a very funny image.) I recently went back to the game to review some things, and if you try to romance Sandra you can get a line where she says “I just want to know if I’m worth being vulnerable for.” Pair that with the demonstrable truth that Hugo does not know how to be vulnerable with people, or for that matter, to admit that he’s been wrong—a skill that we see him learn over the course of working with the next bartender, just to rub it in!—and you’ve got a fascinating combination. In a way, they're both less and more complicated than Peter and Sandra: less complicated, because they don't have all those years of history, and more complicated, because they don't have that bone-deep trust as a basis. They don't know how to feel about each other, and that makes for some REALLY fun territory to play in.

All this to say: I'm deeply, deeply obsessed with these dynamics, and thank you for giving me the chance to ramble. Sandra is a favorite of mine (honestly, I haven't liked a character this much in like, a little over a year) and it's in no small part because all her relationships are so messy. She's my little skrunkly creature and I love her? I love her. Anyway, I hope this answered your question, and thank you so much for asking!

[conanssummerchild]

writing a fic abt rick having an ed bcs why would i recover when i can just project all my issues onto fictional old men in cartoons and pretend everythings better now ‼️

tw eating disorder, minor self harm and vomit near the end

Morty stopped in the open doorway of the garage, watching Rick who was sat scribbling down some kind of invention idea, or equation, or whatever it was he did when Morty wasn't around, for all Morty knew he might well be writing fanfiction.

An involuntary smile pulled at his lips at the idea of his almost 70 year old genius grandfather spending his free time writing silly little stories at his work bench. What would he even write? Ball Fondlers fanfic? Maybe he wrote about his stoic bird friend, Rick had always been touchy with him and Rick wasn't touchy with anyone.

When Morty focused back on Rick he wasn't writing anymore, the slightly crumpled piece of paper shoved to the side as he fiddled with what looked like a small metal box with a bunch of brightly coloured wires poking out of the sides. A small spark shot out of one of the wires Rick was holding and he cursed loudly, shaking his hand.

"Fuck, Morty, are you just gonna– gonna stand there, or are you gonna pass me the fucking, uh– the thing."

Rick waved his hand in the general direction of the shelf nearest to Morty, but there were so many assorted trinkets on the shelves, Morty had no idea if Rick wanted a wrench, or a hammer, or one of his laser guns, maybe the box was like a new battery for them?

"W-what thing, Rick?"

"The thing, Morty! The fucking– the uh, destornillador."

"What? Rick, I don't know what that means. W-w-what is that?"

"Jeez, Morty, what are they teaching you at that crap school you love so much?" Rick scowled, tossing the box to the side and getting up to grab the screwdriver himself.

"I havent been to school in like a month, Rick!" Morty exclaimed. "And even then I only got to stay for like an hour before you were dragging me out again!"

"Whatever." Rick said with a burp, "School's dumb, Morty. I'll teach you Spanish myself. B-but, uh, not now."

He turned back to his box, done with the conversation, but Morty stayed hovering in the room, remembering what he had come for in the first place.

"Okay, um, w-w-well lunch is ready."

"I'm busy."

Morty sighed, having expected that answer already. "When's the last time you ate, Rick? Or slept? Or... showered?" Morty said, wrinkling his nose a little.

Rick ignored him, pulling at a blue wire.

"Rick!" Morty frowned.

"What, Morty? J-jesus christ, what the fuck do you want?"

"I want you to have lunch with the family."

"And I said no, so screw off."

"Rick, come on, it would make mom so happy."

Rick glared at him, not bothering with an answer.

"...Wouldn't y-you do it for your original Beth if you could?" Morty tried.

Rick slammed the box on the table, causing the thin metallic shell to crack, sparks flying from it, the sudden noise making Morty jump.

"The fuck did you just say?" Rick snarled.

"S-s-sorry!" Morty squeaked. "I didn't m-mean– mean it in a bad way!"

"Get the fuck out." Rick said icily, eyes blazing.

Morty stumbled out of the room, shutting the door behind him to the sound of something crashing. Probably Rick throwing the damaged box across the room.

Morty winced. In his defense he was worried about Rick, and sometimes, depending on his mood, something like that would've gotten Rick to cave, clearly he wasn't feeling so sentimental today, more annoyed and angry.

"What was that about?"

Morty startled a little and turned to see Summer looking at her phone behind him.

"Just, y'know, Rick being... Rick."

"Mhm, pro tip, don't bring up his dead daughter to try and blackmail him into something he hates." Summer drawled. "You can only do that if he's already half convinced, or if he's feeling especially depressed sometimes.

"Summer! That's– that's messed up!"

She quirked an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah, so only you can manipulate grandpa Rick?" Summer scoffed. "God forbid women do anything." She said sarcastically and turned to walk away.

"Wait!" Morty fidgeted with his hands. "Can you... help me? To get him to have lunch w-with us? Please?"

"Yes, but not now. He's already upset so if we double down on trying to get him to eat he's only gonna clam up."

Morty nodded. "I know that– but how do you? You don't spend as much time with Rick as I do."

"Because he's like mom. Who do you think got her to stop drinking before parent-teacher conferences at school?"

"Wow. That's pretty fucked up that you had to do that, though, y'know, Summer."

"Yeah, well, we're the Smiths, Morty. Is anyone in this house not disordered?"

Morty winced at the blunt statement, Rick really was rubbing off on her. But it was kind of true.

"Guess it runs in the family." He muttered

"Guess it does."

---

Morty hadn't been planning on seeing Rick again until the next day. He knew that when Rick got upset he needed his space. Morty didn't quite get it because when he was upset all he wanted was for someone to hug him and tell him everything was going to be okay, but Rick wasn't like him he supposed.

If he was being honest it made him nervous to leave Rick alone in those bad headspaces he got into. Rick was volatile and unpredictable and a borderline danger to himself and often others. He'd walked in on a couple... compromising situations where Rick had had to explain away why he was passed out in his chair or why there was blood on his hands and his lab coat despite being the only person in the room.

Morty pretended to believe him when he said he had been doing a messy dissection experiment or that "This isn't blood, this is Balorkian dust I mixed with red Squanchenite fluid from Planet Squanch, Morty." But truthfully those moments haunted him.

However, he didn't want to invade Rick's space, so he let him be and tried to eat and sleep until Rick emerged like nothing had happened, even though Morty knew what habits of his went on behind those closed doors.

Of course Morty's patience had it's limits, like when two hours after he had left Rick in the garage, angry, there was the sound of something smashing, closely followed by an unmistakable sound that Morty had grown too familiar with since Rick had moved in. The sound of a body thudding to the ground.

He was up from the sofa in a flash, at the garage door before Summer could even put down her phone, flinging it open.

He felt like he couldn't breathe, but the only sight that greeted him was a smashed bottle and rick lying on the floor next to it, not looking any more dead than usual, looking up at Morty blearily, cracking a smile.

"Oh, hi Morty. H-hey buddy." He slurred, clearly drunk out of his mind.

"Jesus fucking christ, Rick." Morty said weakly.

"What happened?" Summer breathed, now standing at his side.

"He's just drunk." Morty muttered, wrinkling his nose at the overpowering smell that he hadn't registered before between his state of panic and shallow breathing.

Summer ventured into the garage, picking up an empty bottle and sniffing it. "God, grandpa Rick, what the hell are you drinking in here, fucking rubbing alcohol?"

"Sum-Sum! 'M just having some– some fun drinks. Fun drinks just a lil' bit. Besides I only ever drank rub-rubbin' alcohol once, n' it was– tasted like shit."

"What? I was being sarcastic, why would you drink that?"

"Because I was sad... was sad 'nd lonely after B-b-blood Ridge, couldn't find anythin' else. But 'm not s-sad now."

"What's Blood Ridge?" Summer frowned, "Actually it doesn't matter right now, you need to sober up."

"Get him some water," Morty interjected. "I'll clean up the glass. I also know where he keeps all his hangover serums and stuff, but he told me not to let you into any of his drug stashes."

"Fair enough." Summer shrugged, leaving to get Rick some much needed water.

While she was gone, Morty felt along the wall until he found the small hidden panel under Rick's desk. He fished out the light blue vial of fluid for hangovers, the red one he'd forced Rick to make that would sober him up and a green one that basically equivalated to getting your stomach pumped if you took it, just in case he'd taken more than just alcohol.

He shut the panel securely and placed the three coloured vials on Rick's work bench, grabbing a purple tube-like gadget from a shelf. He pressed a button on the back of it and typed in "Broken Glass" on a small hologram keyboard that emerged, then pressed that first button again. A blue ray shot out, scanning the garage, and the pieces of smashed bottle disappeared in a matter of seconds.

Morty looked over at Rick, who was still lying on the floor, but now he was tracing his fingers along a crack in the cold ground, his expression so solemn he almost looked sober.

"Rick?" Morty asked hesitantly.

"I miss her." He said flatly. "I miss her s-so much."

His words were still a little slurred but his tone had lost all the previous levity.

"I tried to save her, Morty, I t-t-tried, but I couldn't bring her back. And no one could ever replace her." A rough sob escaped his throat. Morty felt frozen. "I'm a crappy fuckin'– piece of shit father but I didn't want to be. I was gonna fuckin' give– give up everything for them, and I would've been happy. I would've been so happy as long as I had them, but he fuckin' took that from me! I nnever even got a chance."

Rick was crying, he was crying so hard that his tears stained the concrete dark grey and snot ran down his face sideways. He was shaking like a leaf and gasping for air.

Morty crouched down next to him, fists clenching and unclenching, unsure if he should hug Rick, or if that would make it worse. What else could he do?

"Oh– oh shit, Rick, I–"

"My little girl, my baby." Rick continued between sobs. "She meant everything to me. S-so yeah, I would be better f-for her if I could, but she's gone. There's no point."

Rick's sudden fit of violent sobs was calming down, replaced by a look that Morty could only describe as pure hoplessness and defeat washing over his features.

"'S no point in anything."

Shit, this was bad. Rick didn't admit defeat, and he certainly didn't talk so openly about his feelings like this.

"Aw jeez, Rick, come on don't– don't– don't say that. we killed Rick Prime, remember?" Morty said, wringing his hands anxiously.

"Yeah, I remember." Rick said, tone now devoid of emotion. "I remember killin' him with my bare hands, watchin' the life drain out of his eyes as his blood dripped down my fists. And I remember nothing changing. W-w-what d'ya do when you achieve your life long goal and nothin's better? It didn't bring them back, it didn't– didn't give me closure or give me a reason to live. I still can't sleep, petrified he's in the fucking house, comin' for my new family, that he'll kill all of you to teach me that t-that's what happens when I-I care about people."

Rick wiped his face with his lab coat sleeve, rubbing away the snot, drool and dried tears while Morty just kneeled next to him, frozen and unsure what to say.

"Rick..." he started but then Summer stepped through the doorway and Rick's demeanour instantly changed.

"Summerfest!" he called out and Morty watched, a little shocked, as Rick's whole face changed in the blink of an eye, going back to the cheerful, goofy expression he'd been wearing when he and Summer first came in. It didn't look artificial to Morty at all, even now that he knew it was. How could Rick just switch it on and off just like that?

"I brought water and coffee." Was all Summer said, placing two mugs on the workbench. "And a cereal bar."

The second statement sounded a little more unsure and Morty could've sworn he saw Rick's jaw clench for a second.

"Gimmie coffee." Rick said, making grabby hands, still lying on the floor.

"Water first." Summer replied, handing him the larger of the two mugs.

Rick pouted a little but as soon as the mug was in his hands he drank thirstily, finishing the whole thing in one go.

"You want more?" Summer asked, taking the mug, but he just shook his head quietly.

"Okay," Morty cleared his throat when his voice came out a little shaky. "drink this."

He handed Rick the red 'get sober' vial and Rick chugged it obediently, making a face. "Tastes like– like shit." He offered.

While he seemed a little calmer after the water and serum, his eyes were still unfocused and his voice sounded thick, like his tongue didn't fit in his mouth properly, hints of his accent were slipping through too.

"Did you- are you on drugs r-right now?" Morty asked, reaching for the green vial of serum.

"Maybe." Rick mumbled. His eyelids were starting to droop a little and he curled up more comfortably on the floor.

"Hey, Rick, don't go to sleep okay? What did you take?" Summer asked, crouching down next to him, shaking him a little. He groaned. "Come on, we just have to make sure you're not overdosing and then you can sleep. Maybe not on the floor."

"'M not overdosing." Rick grumbled.

"What did you take?"

"I dunno. Just some random alien drugs I found i-in my pocket." He said dismissively with a burp. "Actually one of 'em was probably adderall. Look at me bein' all responsible an-and takin' my meds n' shit."

He of course immediately showed his 'responsibilty' by gagging and then throwing up on the floor.

Morty winced, reaching for the purple device again while Summer tried to coax him into drinking the green liquid, frowning deeply.

Finally Rick gave in, sipping from the small vial, and almost instantly his eyes began to clear up a little bit.

"Why'd I make these work so well?" He groaned. Then, "My head is killing me, I want coffee."

Summer passed him the second mug and he gestured toward the hangover serum, which Morty promptly passed to him and Rick poured it in his coffee.

He gulped down half the coffee and sighed, wiping his mouth with his already rather dirty sleeve. "Fuck, that's better."

He downed the rest of it and placed the mug on the ground, getting to his feet shakily. He swayed and nearly fell, leaning onto the wall to steady himself as the dizzy spell passed, and then stretched, his back cracking loudly.

He took a few wobbly steps towards the door but Summer blocked the way.

"Fuck– fuck off Summer I gotta– I'm gonna go take a nap."

"Could you maybe eat something first?" She asked firmly, holding up the cereal bar.

"No."

Rick tried to sidestep her but she blocked the way again.

"Summer, don't fucking piss me off right now, I'm serious."

She stood her ground. "Just eat the cereal bar, grandpa Rick. Please."

"Summer, for fuck's sake, I said no!"

"Grandpa," She sighed, the arm holding the bar dropping defeatedly back down to her side. "Do you have an eating disorder?"

The garage was deathly quiet for a second.

"Wha-What?! I'm not a teenage girl in a f-f-f– goddamn netflix drama, Summer." Rick snarled. "What the fuck kinda question is that?"

He gestured wildly, taking another step forwards, which quickly seemed to be the wrong option as a sudden wave of dizziness hit him hard, making him almost loose his balance. He blindly tried to grab onto the back of his chair somewhere behind him, but missed and fell on his ass.

"Rick!" Morty and Summer both rushed to his side, Morty's eyes beginning to well up a little from all the stress of the day.

"I'm fine, don't– don't fucking touch me." He said, shaking Summer's hand off his shoulder, which caused another wave of nausea to hit.

"Please eat this." Summer said nervously, voice shaking as she pushed the cereal bar into his left hand, his right one gripping at his hair.

"Summer, I promise you if I eat that shit right now I'm gonna throw the fuck up."

"Please?" Morty pouted, eyes big and teary.

All it took was one look at him, and with only a brief moment of hesitation Rick snatched the cereal bar from Summer, muttering angrily under his breath.

Morty only caught "Me cago en la puta." and "Maldito cabrón." which he more or less understood, more familiar with swear words than any other words in the Spanish language.

Rick peeled away the wrapper slowly with unsteady hands and took a small bite.

Morty and Summer watched in silence, not wanting to discourage him by saying the wrong thing—which with Rick could be anything—as Rick uncomfortably ate the cereal bar.

"There you fucking go." He said weakly, Throwing the now empty wrapper at Summer, but missing as it was too light to travel more than a couple centimetres, landing somewhere by his feet.

"Thank you." Summer almost whispered.

They sat in silence for a while, Morty sniffling and rubbing at his eyes and Summer shuffling a bit closer to him for both of their comfort.

Rick was sitting with his knees losely bent and his head braced in his hands, trying to overcome another hit of nausea.

He wouldn't exactly say he tried super hard to keep the cereal bar down, but it wasn't deliberate when he vomited it down the front of his shirt.

"Oh! Aw jeez..." Morty winced.

"I did warn you."

"In our defense, you had every reason to be lying to us."

"Fuck you, Summer." It sounded weak even to his own ears.

She sighed softly.

"Morty, get his shirt off. Do you have pijamas or do you sleep in jeans and a lab coat?"

"Jeans an-and a lab coat."

"...I was joking, but okay." Summer said, flipping the switch that opened Rick's garage closet and grabbing one of his sets of identical outfits.

Rick squirmed, making noises of complaint as Morty tried to take off his current shirt.

"Rick– stay still, you have vomit on your clothes."

"I'm not fucking two years old, Morty." He scowled. "I can change by myself."

Rick tried to sit up but wobbled and then slumped back against the wall, needing more time to recover. Morty reached for his shirt again and this time Rick let him pull it carefully up over his head without resisting. Morty took the new set of clothes from where Summer had left them on the floor next to him.

Summer wasn't looking but Morty still shielded Rick's body from sight with his own, pointedly not mentioning the raised scars and jagged, angry, red cuts littering his arms which he had already suspected would be there.

Rick shifted uncomfortably, seeming relieved when Morty didn't want to talk about it.

"Okay." Morty said, helping Rick pull on his clean lab coat too.

"I'm going to bed." Rick grumbled, not waiting for him to continue, just getting up slowly.

He felt weak and shaky and his brittle old bones weren't exactly helping out. Despite his thousands of cybernetic implants he was still human, much to his dismay, and he couldn't treat his body as badly as he did when he was 30. Not that that ever seemed to stop him, managing to still maintain the same shitty habits he'd had for years at the ripe age of 67.

He stumbled through the dining room, Morty and Summer trailing after him, not discouraged by the glare he sent their way.

As soon as he reached his room, he slumped onto his bed with a groan.

"R-rick?"

"Fuck off, Morty." He snapped into his pillow, a little muffled by it.

Morty hesitated, exchanging a glance with Summer, who shrugged.

"...Ookay, Rick. Uh, see– see you at dinner, today? maybe?'

"Don't count on it."

Summer frowned, Starting to say something, but Rick interrupted, "I'm gonna apply my room's Lock Protocols in ten seconds, so i-if you're still in here, I'm not letting you out until I'm done sleeping. A-a-and if you're standing in the doorway, you're gonna get fucking squashed in the doors."

"Whatever, Rick, fuck you too." Summer huffed, pulling Morty out of the doorway with her.

"Room, activate Sensory Protocol 2. And t-tell Summer to go fuck herself."

"Sensory Protocol 2 activated." Came the mechanical voice and a heavy metal door snapped shut. "Go fuck yourself, Summer."

Summer scoffed. "Dick." Followed by a sigh. "What are we gonna do?"

"I-I don't know." Morty admitted. "There's not much we can do if Rick won't accept help. And he won't."

"So what? We just give up on him?" Summer asked accusingly, putting her hands on her hips.

"No, Summer, J-jeez. I just– We're gonna have to get creative."

"Fuck."

---

thats it thats the end i didnt know how tf to end this but my goal wasnt to rewrite like the bible idfk it was just to put rick through shit and put completely unfair expectations on summer and mortys shoulders so that they could ALL suffer in this fic !! :3 also this is so mf long i sincerely apologise if u read all that

[lucy-the-cat]

I know I just did a to do list a couple days ago but I've decided to really evaluate my writing priorities in order of how much I want to do them bc I get so many ideas that I get excited over and then get sad I didn't complete. There's a lot of scope creep and scattered focus with me, but I think I've got a solid list of the order of which I genuinely want to do things (overplanned to hell and back but I think writing it helps me lol)

first draft of Daughter of Zeus - I really wanna get traditionally published someday, and I've been dragging my feet on getting originals done, so the goal is to get this one done by the end of the year at all costs

Newblood Queen book one - I know this one is less popular than some of my other works, like God's Cursed, but it's my most creatively fulfilling one, maybe because there's so many moving parts that the challenge speaks to me. Also I just love the character relations lol

Tumblr asks - not really writing but the questions you guys have been asking have gotten more intense and require more detail and attention so I'm putting them on the list, you won't have to wait until the previous two are finished to hear back obvi but they're gonna take a backseat to making progress on them at least

B day presents for my friends - I love you guys, you deserve it

Hera poetry collection (If Only Gold Could Stay) - poetry collections rarely sell but I really wanna do this one

Blood of the Covenant - the plot is so intricate I'm scared to get it wrong

new Lover's Curse draft - shouldn't take long, just gotta neaten up the Iris/Irisare plotline, and maybe streamline some character actions/motivations and thematic implications

Newblood Queen Novellas - less motivation than main NQ, more of a challenge, but fleshing out the world and characters gives me joy

Lethe - original work about the river Styx nymph choosing to drink the Lethe to reincarnate as a mortal . . . I don't know the plot but I like the concept, real Circe by Madeline Miller vibes I think

Daughter of Zeus second draft - I wanna let it sit before I dive back in, generally good practice

Solar Eclipse - I'm sorry this is so low on the list considering it's technically for a gift exchange, I just . . . need to work out more plot

Mareven Week - should be quick to finish, I just need focus

first draft of original work whose premise I won't reveal yet

revise Hera collection if it needs it

Lethe second draft

any aesthetics - I like them a lot, I'll do a little here and there and whatnot

anything smut - Having trouble with it atm sorry

personally binding my own finished fanfictions to keep for myself (vanity projects but. I want them)

Second draft of unnamed original

God's Cursed - Sorry this is so low, I really like it and it's semi-easy to write but other things are just floating above it

new Red Ruse draft - I think the middle is a mess but I think I can fix her (no really I can)

Glass Houses (Newblood Queen book two) - I will finish this series if it kills me

Jon POV(s) - I really love writing his POV, second only to Maven

Red School Redux - simple, short, get it off my chest

Miscellaneous oneshots - these are tricky bc my ideas are so scattershot and can spiral quickly, trying to finish longfics and originals first lol

Lady Haven - Disgrace this is so low on the list, I just don't know where to take it

Taylor Swift Collections - idk why I committed to them but what I have of them kinda slaps ngl, just . . . scope creep

secret project I will not name (fanfic tho)

Stay in the Light - I love them but there's so much to write gah

Scrapped Open Novella Contest idea from two years ago - reread it recently, it kinda slaps

The Groans of Our Bones - gotta work out the kinks . . .

If I plan any more someone's probably gonna shoot me soooooo

(I just like tossing updates into the void lol)

[lixenn]

General update

Since I realised it's been ages since I did some kind of progress report on my projects I'd thought I should make a post about the current state of affairs to keep you guys updated properly.

I know this is probably super old news rn but I'm currently in a very low creative mood (I don't really wanna call it an art/writers block? I just tend to have phases in my life where I pretty much don't write or draw anything and I'm in one such phase rn), so I haven't touched my WIPs in ages. I do miss writing a lot but I'm not at the point where I want to force myself to write, so I'm just playing a waiting game at the moment.

So for writing projects:

I'm still stuck on chapter 6 of Causality which ngl is frustrating even after I managed to get over the initial block I had in the writing by switching POVs. I know need to figure out how to handle the different POV which I might take a while? But also might not, I'm too much of a mood writer OTL I would say the chapter is about 70 % done so I just need to finish the draft and edit but again actually finishing it is the struggle, so I'm asking for patience on this 😔

Now the Guide... I was debating doing something special for the one year anniversary on Thursday (which is wild it's been a year TT one year ago I just started working on my thesis and I was delirously happy because I finally found fandom friends) but since I have a job interview on that day which means I will be stressed out of my mind the entire time this is not gonna happen OTL I still have one very vague idea for a Guide chapter in the back of my mind but except for one rule I don't really have that much to base it on so this will require more time and probably a brainstorm session in discord dms. I might - and this is a very big might - share a future scene of Causality that's not super spoiler heavy as a compromise but this kinda depends on if I'm willing to get over my relucatance of sharing sequel stuff. It would fit for White Day cause it's romance... I will think about it lol

Now the work on the wiki is pretty much on hold because after I got the handle on the initial set up I kinda just need to get over myself and write all the entries which... is a lot of work that I'm too low on spoons for at the moment. I'm honestly considering updating Chief's character profile with the new/corrected info that I have in his wiki page because at this point it's going to take me ages until I get the wiki live and the outdated info is nagging at me. It probably wouldn't be too much effort to do but yeah... Maybe you guys could tell me if you are interested in that? Or if you are fine waiting cause at this point I don't mind either way.

Art stuff:

So I currently have two(?) art challenge asks in my inbox still and they will be my priority unless I get a comm but I'm also asking for patience on those 😔 I promise I haven't forgotten, art is just hard too atm so everything takes longer OTL

Otherwise I don't have any active art WIPs but I have two new OC designs sketched that I want to transfer into digital art, so that I can comfortably throw them into the wild. Also I do want to make ref sheets for my main OCs but that shits hard when your art style is all over the place and you don't know how to draw most stuff without finding specific refs. A problem for future Lix I suppose ^^'

General life stuff (aka what am I doing with my time):

I'm pretty much reading fanfic 24/7 and have been doing for weeks. This is a very common state of affairs when I'm trying to cope with stress and don't have energy for creating things, so it's nothing new. I'm pretty sure I can credit my low creative energy on being kinda depressed/anxious/stressed/lonely about my life situation which can mostly be summed up with: hanging in limbo. I'm someone who benefits from structure in my life and since I don't have either work or lectures I'm at loose ends and it's slowly but surely dragging me down. I don't mind the free time but I also feel anxious and uncertain about my future which always sucks. I can't long term plan for shit rn because I have no clue where I will be in a month and that's so fucking annoying TT Also I feel the constant pressure of needing to find a job sooner rather than later and it's a drag, my guys. Theoretically I know that my worth is not depended on what I can bring to society but my heart can't really fully except it especially since I do need the income eventually, I don't wanna bum off my parents for another few months.

So yeah...

I might go rebloge some more ask games just to get some kind of writing done even if it's just answering questions, it's better than nothing and I miss interacting with you folks. Also, I don't want all of my actual posts be me complaining about my current state of affairs because that's just depressing lmao

Anyways! Gold stars to anyone who actually read this massive post that totally got out of hand ⭐ Keep being awesome my dudes!

[recurring-polynya]

Writing/Art Update 4.16.2024

I know I said I wasn't going to do these for a bit, but I felt like doing one. It's not good news, mostly I just want to complain because I'm very frustrated. I *want* to write, but my brain is just very, very empty and I hate it. I've been working on my ChadIshi story for what feels like a million years. It's not even very good. It's about 1500 words at the moment. I write about 3 sentences per day on it. I have no idea how to end it. All that being said, I would like to *finish* it, rather than just let it sit in my WIPs for 3 years, but I'm also worried that I am just sort of letting it drag on because I don't know what to write after that, either.

Candidate #1 is my Rukia-and-Renji-dirtbag-teens-in-Inuzuri fic, which I love to death and I *hope* that if I work on it, I might be able to make some progress on it. It's 11k words already (some are trash, I'm sure) but it's Most of a Fanfic and it might be kind cool to publish it after Damage History.

I've also been trying to brainstorm the next two parts of Heart is a Muscle. My plan had been for the next part to be an epistolary fanfic where Rukia and Byakuya have to go on a mission together and Renji gets left home with his still-healing arm. However, right at the beginning of Damage History, there's mention of Rukia and Renji going to some dreadful seafood festival at the train museum in East Rukongai. I was originally going to put that in as an epilogue, but then there was something else I wanted to do for the epilogue, and I told myself that it would be kinda fun to have a little short chapter about Rukia and Renji Having a Nice One, For a Change. The problem is, I don't know how to write that. I've spent the last two weeks trying to brainstorm ideas and my brain keeps going "maybe they could solve a murder mystery?" Don't get me wrong, the only thing that is keeping me from turning this into a murder mystery is the lurking Byakuya and Rukia Solve a Murder Mystery that the next one is gonna be (it's probably not actually going to be a murder mystery, but that's the vibe). I just want to write some cute little short hijinks thing and I am too dumb to come up with anything! I even read an entire Wodehouse book, trying to spur the old noggin to churning out a fruity idea or two, but the ideas were not forthcoming, not even a rummy one.

The other option is that I know I am supposed to get back to a little in love eventually, and I was kind of putting it off, because I didn't want it to get caught in my annual summer doldrums, but maybe I should just go for it.

Anyway! I wish I had ideas!! I have no ideas!!

(also, it's is very hard for me to write when I am on a Posting Schedule, I am very aware of this, and I am pretending like it's not true even tho I know this is probably the main issue)

In other news, I drew a Rukia and I was proud of it, please go look at it for me, thank you in advance.

[wisteria-empress]

My dear living adventure to escape (sabigiyu and other ship fanfic)

FIRST CHAPTER

My dear-for me or for you?

Author note

🦖I am not sane while writing this shit load story and there will not be steady update time i will update when I feel like it and maybe write during school who knows if i don't update I got hit by a car or some shit why you may ask CAUSE I ACTUALLY STARTING TO WRITE FANFICS ITS A DEATH TRAP ALL ON ITS OWN🐒 also you'll get weird ass emoji from time to time and English is not my first language so there will be some spelling errors I won't see until punish

No one's pov:

There sitting in the garden two darling children one a prince and one more beautiful then ever ,one admiring the flowers and one admiring the more beautiful then ever.

"look how pretty these flowers look"

"Not as pretty as you😘"

"Sabito I feel like your lying to me"

" Giyu I would never"

"You said that exact same me when you locked me in a room with you"following that sentence came a slap in the face by giyu to Sabito 

"HEY Well this time I'm not lying to you"

"Sure you aren't "

Over an hour past of the just arguing about random shit until it was 6:30 

"Giy-" Sabito got cut when one of the maids called out to them

"Giyu ,Tsutako is looking for you also Sabito your mother wants you for something I'm not too sure make sure you go to her before 8"

"Giyu listen"

"I don't wanna speak to you"

As Giyu starts to stands up and starts to walk away from Sabito 

"Hey Giyu your not mad at me right?" He asked pulling on his arm

"what do you think? I'm going inside now you should too" giyu said with a cold tone 

(Inside of the palace)

"You called for me nee-San?"

"Yeah Giyu I didn't want you to stay out that late and also we have to prepare dinner for everyone else today remember today is our turn."

"Oh yeah I forgot"

"Well we better start now you know how impatient Sabito is besides the sooner we're Done the sooner I might be able to get paid and we can go somewhere "

"Yeah..."

"Well giyu what did you do today?"

"Nothing much really the only thing that really happened was that I got into a argument with Sabito"

"Well you know how he is"

"Yeah I guess"

"Also makomo was looking for you earlier you should see what she needs"

After Both tsutako and Giyu were done making dinner they both set the table and went back to the server's quarter 

(Sabito pov)

"Hey giyu your not mad at me right?"i asked while pulling on his arm

"Well what do you think,I'm going inside and you should too"he responded to me a cold tone and slapping my hand so I would stop pulling on his arm,that was quite rude to me and to be honest I'm the prince

AND HE SLAP ME IN THE FACE and he was probably right about who's I should go inside ,I stood up from the garden's marble benches i should probably get going since the maid did say my mom need me

I was walking by the flowers giyu was looking at earlier 

"I guess these are as pretty as giyu but giyu is definitely still prettier 

I said to myself i also did anything a responsible 15 yo with a pretty boy crush and pick some of the flowers and took them inside 

(the flowers are azalea for anyone wondering and I chose these flowers for their meaning [their Chinese meaning] I had to relook the meaning a few time ) 

I placed the flowers inside a vase in my room and went to knock on my mothers office 

"This is such a drag" I mumbled beneath my breath the fact mom's office was on the other side of the palace was gonna irritating the living fuck out of me I got to her office and knocked on her door

"who is it?" She asked

"Sabito" I replied 

"Sabito come in" she responded

"So mom what did you need me for?"i asked as I was looking around the room of stacked books files and a map on the wall I saw my father and he gave me a glance and my eyes met with a women that looked slightly older then me and she looked okay I guess I thought to myself before my mom interrupted my thinking

"Sabito meet lady kizana(yes I choose a yandere simulator name cause I wanted their personality to be the same)

"Hello Sabito"she gave me a smile as well as bowing her head

"Hello lady kizana"I did the same thing

"Sabito you and lady kizana will be marring eachother in guarante of our kingdom status,economy,and safety 

"WHAT?!?! YOUR KIDDING ME RIGHT WHY DO I HAVE TO DO IT IM ONLY 16??!?" I shouted and questioned her 

"Sabito I married your father for this kigdom safety and guarantee of of both status and economy,also your will also be marring her younger brother

(No one pov)

"hey nee-San" giyu asked

"what is it giyu?" She responded

"how's you and your fiancé doing?" He questioned 

"Pretty well why?" She replied to his question 

"nothing really I haven't seen him around lately" 

"he's probably busy Giyu don't worry about it"

They were chatting until a knock on their door "WHO IS IT?"giyu asked

"ITS SABITO" "GO AWAY" "I JUST WANNA SPEAK TO YOU" "WELL I DONT CARE FOR IT" he banged on the door ,still didn't open this was about the time when Sabito was about to knockdown the door when giyu opened the door and Sabito falles face first into the ground

"I'm okay"-sabito

"Yeah but you don't look like it"-giyu

"HEY"

"Ha loser"

"Hey but you finally opened the door"

Giyu being flustered stopped talking and gave sabito a stern look a slapped him

"Anyways Sabito why are you here?" Tsutako asked

"I just wanna talk to giyu about something"

"Alright"

Sabito was dragging giyu out to his room when half way there giyu stopped him 

"Look Sabito what do you want?"

"My mom spoke to me about something I wanted to talk to you about it"

"Well what was it?"

"That's what I was planning to tell you but you made me fall on my face"

"Yeah I'm not sorry."

"Why are you mean giyu😢 anyways my mom told me something when I was in her office earlier and I want to tell you"

(In Sabito room)

"So what did your mom tell you?"

"Well my mom want me to get married to some bitch to raise the kingdom status but I don't wanna so I'm planning to run away soon and I already try to talk them out of it but there was little succession and when I run away I want you to come with me" sabito said he grasped giyu hand 

"Why do you want me to come with you?" It looked giyu by surprise running away with sabito

"Cause I need someone who won't tell anyone and besides I'm your only friend besides from tsutako" he told that in confidence and I think we both know her getting punched sooner of later

"HEY YOU DONT KNOW THAT"

"Yes I do you only hang out at two places the palace property and once or twice maybe visit your grandma"

"Well dang your really spying on me"

"But still do you wanna run away with me?"

"But what will I tell nee-San?"

"Just say you'll be on a trip with me for a month or so"

"How do you plan on escaping anyways?"

"Easy figure out the guards schedule,they patrol the property and have a 30 minute break and that's when they switch I plan on going from the garden to the woods then we just run till we get to a traveler in or wisteria house"

"Okay and how do you suppose we pay for any of that?"

"We take my sister's money duh 😒"

"That miku look alike bitch?"🦕

"No the other one and I got some birthday money from my grandma anyways that should be enough besides it's like 8 million yen"

"Sabito 8 million yen can barley get you a house in some places"

"WELL ILL FIGURE IT OUT"

"You'll probably just sell me when you run out of money😭"

" I'm not that bad giyu😿"

"If that's all you wanted to talk about I'll think about it but if I do agree when are we leaving?"

"Probably tomorrow night the sooner the better really"

(Little did they know someone was at the door listening to their little conversation)

"Well good night Sabito"

"Good night giyu"

Giyu opens the door seeing sabito older sister at the door

"Where the hell do you and Sabito think your going?"

"I'm not sure what you're  talking about"

"Look I'm not dumb and I don't want my brother to marry a ugly bitch and either way if I don't help you guys you'll end up getting caught so I'll help you guys also the telling 'tsutako you'll be going on a trip for a month' is dumb just tell her the actual truth she might actually help you"

"wait you were listening to our conversation?"

"Well yeah I wouldn't want my dumbass of a brother to be caught trying to sneak away if you want I can set y'all up with a travelers inn or something like that" 

"That would be nice thank you Makomo"

"Don't worry about it just go to sleep and it's best if y'all leave tomorrow night I can probably set the up the inn by that time I'll just give y'all the address on a piece of paper also that miku look alike bitch doesn't have any more money left she spent it all when she was hanging out with some friends In Another kingdom she didn't have much to start with either

"Alright really thanks Makomo"

Author note

HA LOSERS I FINISHED THE FIRST CHAPTER AND IT ONLY TOOK A HOUR TO FINISH

Don't think your gonna get a chapter 2-5 until January 15th New York time

START TIME:2:21 am

FINISH TIME: 3:30 am

(Final word count:1741)

[rextasywrites]

Hamstring - a Zack Fair fanfic!

Recent reports had showed that Wutai was preparing for an attack, upping up on various weapons and there were whispers about newly developed robots for a counterattack. Bigger, stronger, smelling the mako-enhanced SOLDIERs from a mile away.

Too bad that Zack had the tendency to forget to shower.

Warnings: mention of injury, Zack and Angeal becoming friends, Zack being stupid

This fanfic is a birthday present for my friend @crylin ! Happy late Birthday dear, have a good one! <3

Also big thanks to my buddies in the server who always hype me and my writing up, including but not limited to @ryvian @prismaticpichu @dyradoodles @winter-doggo and so many more <3

*

The concept of a God, or several Gods, was unknown to Zack. But in this very moment, if he had faith in any of the things people called ‘religion’, he would have thanked whatever deity he were to believe in.

Zack and his 2nd class buddies had been sent out on a spy mission near Wutai. Recent reports had showed that Wutai was preparing for an attack, upping up on various weapons and there were whispers about newly developed robots for a counterattack. Bigger, stronger, smelling the mako-enhanced SOLDIERs from a mile away.

Too bad that Zack had the tendency to forget to shower.

“Hey Zack! Are you not gonna go to bed now?”, Kunsel asked Zack, who was putting his shoes on. “You are on morning duty.”

“Yeah no, I want to look around a little bit. Get used to the surrounding area. Besides, the food was terrible, maybe I can find some berries. Gotta be tastier than the slop we just got. What even was that…?”

“Angeal said it was some kind of nutrient filled mash with pieces of Hedgehog Pie.”

“More like Hedgehog Vomit!”

“Zack!”, Kunsel laughed and threw one of his towels, which he was holding, at his friend. Zack caught it mid-air and chucked it right back, laughing just as much as Kunsel did.

“I won’t be gone for too long, don’t worry!”, and without another second to spare, Zack ran off towards the nearest forrest.

Angeal, who had been watching the whole situation, sighed as he put his Buster Sword on his back, knowing he’d have to rescue this dumbass 2nd class SOLDIER sooner or later. From what he had heard about Fair, Angeal thought it would probably sooner than later, and took off after the young man.

*

“Oh, no no no no!”, Zack cried out. In his berry haze, the SOLDIER hadn’t realized that Wutaian soldiers were on his trail, ready to attack any ugly Shinra SOLDIER dude on sight. Zack was cornered up by a cliff, his only way out would have been a high jump down into a roaring river. While he could potentially survive the jump, the strong current could be his end. And Zack wasn’t ready to die! He had people he loved at home and still hadn’t tried the cool takeaway place in Sector 4, the one Kunsel always told him about!

With his enhanced abilities, Zack managed to take down two of the Wutaian soldiers. The fight seemed to go well for him, until one soldier managed to land a massive hit on Zack’s right leg, right on the hamstring. A loud bang was heard and before Zack’s brain could receive the information about pain in the leg, it gave in, making Zack land face-first in a puddle of mud and blood of the fallen soldiers.

That’s it, that’s his end, he thought as the Wutaian soldiers stalked up to him, sinister grins on their faces. “Should we kill him?” “No no, let's take him back home.” “Yeah, I heard the General has developed a great new torture method!” “The one with the water and the wax?” “Fuck yes.”

The next few seconds felt like hours. Zack later described the appearance of Angeal in a flash. By the time the Wutaian soldiers could turn around, their guts were spilling out of their bodies, the weak attempts to keep their stomachs and bowels in place with their hands fruitless. They dropped dead before they could have taken another breath.

“Zack Fair! Are you insane?!”

*

Angeal had dragged Zack back to camp, right into the med tent. Zack’s right leg’s hamstring was cut right through, requiring surgery. Zack was flown back to Midgar, Kunsel in tow as his ‘emotional support SOLDIER’. Angeal approved Kunsel’s earlier departure, instead requesting some 3rd class SOLDIERs to get flown in for field training. The 3rds were excited and Kunsel was glad he got to support his friend. *

A few weeks later, Zack was walking on crutches. The fact that he was unable to do squats (he had a cast so high up his leg, he could nearly rest his butt on it) and no running around… Zack hadn’t felt this bad since a bad flu knocked him out for 6 weeks when he was just 7 years old.

The days felt long. Kunsel had gone shopping on the plate and got Zack some games to play. Board games, card games, and with some money thrown together from both Zack and Kunsel, he even got a gaming system for both of them to play on.

One lonely afternoon, Kunsel was scheduled for combat training sim the whole day, Zack couldn’t do much else but play SOLDIER Kart. The TV in front of him felt lame, and Zack felt as if he had played through every single track thrice by now. There was only so much fun he could have had with this game. Even after a while, shooting Commander Rhapsodos with ‘turtle shells’ and throwing bananas at him became boring. He even made his own character in the character creation menu, but playing as Sephiroth sure was fun too.

“Do you have any idea how hard it was to get Sephiroth to agree to this game?”, Angeal had entered the room without Zack noticing. Zack paused the game and placed his controller down, focusing completely on the 1st class SOLDIER.

“Tell me!”, Zack laugh, and Angeal sat down next to him on the bed.

“Sephiroth had no interest in any kind of ‘video game’, no matter how funny or silly it was. PR told us to agree to this game, and since Genesis and I are ‘always around Sephiroth’, as they said, we should try to change his mind.”, Angeal started to tell the tale, “So Genesis and I took him into the arcade down in Sector 2 one night after bedtime. To make sure no one would recognize us, we put Sephiroth in a wig and a hoodie, Genesis wore a face full of make up and I wore a beanie pulled so far down, I was barely able to see. We got him to play all of these silly arcade games…”, Angeal laughed at the memory.

“Sephiroth was blown away by the games and by how much fun it was to play with us. He won a big prize that night, don’t know what game. But one of the owners challenged us to some game and the prize was free pizza for a year at the arcade’s restaurant. Sephiroth, of course, kicked the owner’s ass, and we got free pizza for a year.”

Zack listened, his eyes growing bigger with every word spilling from Angeal’s mouth.

“We were just ranked up to 1st, young men with an appetite to rival monsters. We nearly made them go out of business with the amount of pizzas we ate! Whenever we came back from a mission, we would eat until they had no dough left!”, Angeal couldn’t help but laugh even more at the memory. But the knowledge, that Sephiroth hadn’t eaten pizza, or even knew of pizza, before this event, was something he’d keep for himself.

“So PR got the deal for the game and we got free pizza for a year. Win-win for everyone”., Angeal smiled, but then his face changed.

“So, Zack, about the incident in Wutai…”, Zack went pale at the words. Oh no, he’d get kicked out of SOLDIER now! He’d have to move back home to Gongaga and live in his parent’s basement and work as a hunter or farmer! Oh no!

“I saw what you did to the two guys before they cut you down. You have potential. A potential I’d like to see grow. Are you interested in becoming my student?"

[moonnue]

20 Questions ♥

Thank you @anisaanisa for tagging me! ♥ I've been meaning to do these tag games but I'm always busy-- I'm actually free at the moment! And it's cool that it's a fanfic quiz, since I've just gotten into posting my stuff hahaha

How many works do you have on AO3?

Only 6 so far! I've got lots in the works but I don't like sharing 'till I'm done :3c

What’s your total AO3 words count?

29,294

What fandoms do you write for?

I've written for InuYasha, Portal, and for the little Toothfairy fandom but as far as what I've posted I'm currently, and very obviously, into Baldur's Gate 3. Other fandoms I've written for are Toilet-Bound Hanako-Kun, Jujutsu Kaisen, and Spice and Wolf

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Hands On A C(l)ock (441) Portrait of a Vampire (366) Shower Break (337) Cheeky Little Pup (73) Erotica of a Vampire (51)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I don't orz. I first posted to Ao3 in 2020 and then walked away so when I came back to post the next part I was like !!! oh shit!!! people left comments LOL I felt embarrassed for just letting them sit there and now I'm kind of stuck. Plus, I feel weird going to everyone and just saying "thank you!" I REALLY APPRECIATE IT I'M JUST…….. AH!

What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Not posted but it's going to be the KagKik fic I'm writing :3c Otherwise I don't like angst oops

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably Shower Break, I guess? or Cheeky Little Pup? Idk, I'm even looking at my WIPs but I'm not sure how some of them are gonna end yet!

Do you get hate on fics?

Technically I experienced my first recently when I had a person try to accuse me of stealing their fic and then went on to try and drag my name through the mud. That was exciting! (sarcasm)

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

it's………. it's my main thing. oops. i write second person f/o x reader fic cuz i'm cringe and free <3

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

SOOO NOT WRITTEN! YET! But I do have a ton in mind. I think the craziest one I'd ever want to write if I got the balls to do it would be an RSK x Madoka Magica fic cuz I just think. It would be fucking funny. Given RSK are real people so I'm like ehhh maybe not. Otherwise I think the only other one is an InuYasha x Labyrinth crossover but that ain't too wild. It's been done before!

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of! Also, I can't help but find it strange, the idea of stealing fic. Do people actually do this lol

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope!

Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Technically? Friend of mine write together from time to time, but again, nothing posted.

What’s your all-time favourite ship?

You x Your Favorite Character

What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I have a story started that's about Naraku getting isekai'd into another world where he's the hero of it. I think it's pretty funny but getting myself to start it has been a little tough.

What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm really good at capturing character voices. I also think I'm good at describing emotions.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I think my sentences could stand for a bit more of a unique structure. I don't like writing place descriptions very much, I'm very character focused.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Sure…? Why not! Do it!

First fandom you wrote for?

InuYasha <3

Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

Care For A Wet Dog, oddly enough, even though it's unfinished. I don't know, there's something about it that I really like. It's older and I think I kind of miss how my writing used to be? Then again whether anyone else sees a difference, I wouldn't know.

not tagging anyone just cuz i...... i don't know who to tag! uh! i dont want to bother anyone lol! so if you see this and wanna do it please do! and tag me in it because if i inspired you to do it i would love to read it! (and maybe keep you in mind for any future tags? maybe? hm? *nudge nudge*)

[carter-carpet-writes]

Coffee On The Horizon World Building Pt. 2: Customers

Okies!! We're back with some more world building!!

The entirety of this story started because, if you read this Info post you'd already know, of a FF (Frantic Fanfic) round in which I wrote the beginning bit of Cat meeting their favorite Hermit, Cubfan135. Then with the bit that my other friends added, and of course this taking play in a coffee shop. I had the brilliant idea of: What if we were the ones that were running the shop? So I started writing out notes and notes for different things about this shop. Wrote out all of the workers, the regular customers, and the less frequent customers. Then I began consulting with my friends with the pages of notes that I had written. They proceeded to help me come up with themes, the main one, and then others that we can have throughout the years that this takes place.

From there, we decided we wanted this start around the end of HC-8. And writing had already begun. Anyway, a lot of this has already been said, as for what this part is actually about. In the process of writing this post, more world building and lore has been brought into the works. Guess I'll get into that for another post! (Guys, there's gonna be angst.)

For frequent customers, I've got listed:

Luka - member of the discord

Nellie (who ends up working and is Quill's little sister, she's not on payroll XD)

Viktor - member of the discord

Sun - member of the discord

Gem - goes with life series peoples (eventually), and with Soup Group (eventually), and also may show up with GIGGS every once in a while

Cub - Usually goes to pick up others' orders, or order for them, Convex/Con Corp.

Impulse - There with Boatem, Soup Group, GIGGS, ZITS (mostly open mic night), JITS, Life Series, Stabby Stabby crew(?) etc.

Scar - Mostly goes for the pastries, Boatem, Buttercups, Life Series, Convex/Con Corp., PoePoe etc.

Skizz - Goes for coffee as well as open mic night GIGGS, Solo, ZITS, JITS, Life Series, PoePoe, Stabby Stabby crew(?), etc.

Scott - Drags Jimmy along with him, Empires members, Life Series, solo, friends

Lizzie - Always brings Joel along, joins Scott, other Empires members, Life Series

Jimmy/Timmy - Goes with Evo, Empires, Life Series, many other people

Joel - He pretends to hate it, but everyone knows he likes going

Sausage - Empires, friends, and etc. (doesn't know much about him)

Shelby/Shubble - Probably same as Sausage (doesn't know much about her)

Joey - Either goes solo or with Sausage or other Empires members

Katherine - Same as Shelby and Sausage (doesn't know much about her)

Pixlriffs - Could see solo, but also with Empires crew, and HC Recap (doesn't know much about him)

Grian - Usually goes with friends, hardly solo, Evo, Life Series, Boatem, Buttercups, GIGGS etc.

Less frequent Customers:

Tango - Life Series, occasional JITS, Stabby Stabby Crew (?), Jimmy etc.

Ren - Doc during HC-9, False

False - Ren

Xisuma - Solo usually, occasionally with Ex

Bdubs - Mostly open mic nights

Etho - Makes sure Bdubs is behaving and stuff (as well as enjoying the time himself)

Pearl - Evo, Life Series, Soup Group, etc.

Cleo - Pastries (doesn't know much about them), and with Joehills usually

Fwhip - Empires folks, etc. (Doesn't know much about him)

Joehills - Solo or with Cleo, usually just for the pastries

Martyn - Goes with Evo, Life Series, maybe with Netty, but otherwise not sure (Don't know enough about him)

BigB - Similar to Martyn except, just Evo and Life Series

Mumbo - Buttercups, Life Series, but probably not often other than that

Stress - I really don't know her at all, but I figured she'd show up once an' awhile

xB - Once a month or something like that

Zedaph - ZITS, maybe HC memebers, not sure (doesn't know him all that well, at all)

Mochi - Member of the discord

MisterJoker - JITS, Stabby Stabby crew (?), (Doesn't know enough about him)

I will tell you now, I don't know hardly anything about a LOT of these people, so if anyone has any tips or notes that you don't mind sharing with me, please feel free to message me privately here, Discord (if you have me friended), in replies, or reblogs. There will be other people included, not many, most probably are just friends that make random appearances or something like that!

Okay, probably last bit for this post, I might do another one with running bits, or something, I dunno. But here are our favorite Hermits/Non-Hermits!

Carter/Carpet: Grian, Impulse, Scar, Scott.

Quill: Xisuma (ft. Evil X), Joel

Cat: Cub, Mumbo, Scar

Fox: Etho, Pearl, PeteZahHut, Grian, Hbomb94, False, Ren

Melon: Mogswamp, ZombieCleo, Joehills, Grian

Nine: Scar, Grian

Nyx: Cub, Wels

Viole: Grian

Nellie: Lizzie

Micah: Grian, Gem, Pearl

Enen: Skizzleman, Charlie Slimecicle

Bri: Xisuma

Arc: Impulse

The reason for this, I don't need to explain, but I wanna. Hehehehe. This is because 1) I was curious. 2) May explain certain behaviors that might change around them (not everyone tho). 3) Because I have plans for birthday presents for my friends (mostly in the story but honestly.... You guys didn't see this).

[sanmisui]

Venting and rambling about writing:

Maybe my fanfic would be better off without all those smutty implications that I’m adding.

Seriously,,,,, the story would work either way. It’s just my stupid brain not understanding that it ain’t necessary for a fanfic to have these things. But also everything sort of sucks. My writing is painfully mid. The story is long and it’s been dragging me down and I have no idea what I’m doing anymore,,,, ughhh.

I have lotsa drafts,,,, but nothing fits into the current story. So I will make more stories once the current one is done,,,, but I know that the ending will suck. My brain is bad.

Nothing really matters, I’m just writing nonsense. I’m gonna take it out and just end the day and write something else n get back to the mid section later.

My writing isn’t linear. I start somewhere n add a break n go to the next section and then I go back to fill the blanks and connect the plots together.

Sometimes I need to shove things back or take them out entirely. That’s just how the creative progress works,,,, it is what it is,,,,

I wish somebody would give me clearer instructions on what to add and what to leave out. I mean,,,, who the fuck wants to read about washing the dishes? On multiple occasions?? It adds some minor detail and it makes the story longer… ooooooh the story is so goddamn long I think it’s almost at 100k words???? How did I even do that? It’s been 6 months. Is that good or bad? I don’t read that many stories. Or only short ones. But they get everything done and sorted easy peasy,,,,, my story is filled with convoluted garbage and it’s just a retelling of the goddamn anime for the most of it,,,, with a few extras and boiiiii is it boring? I’m bored. Not sure if that’s just me cuz I know what my brain is cooking up and boi did it add too much sugar to the alphabet soup,,,, who the fuck adds sugar to their soup anyways?????

I avoid conflict. But I need conflict. I gotta write about the goddamn conflict. How do I write? Hell, I haven’t got a clue as to what I’m even doing with this story. It’s an x Reader Story, there won’t be that many people craving for it’s conclusion… I think I hate the story cuz I put too much of myself into the personality of the mc. Yeahhh maybe that is it?

I also suck at writing the dude who we r romancing. Maybe it’s all just too much of a mess?

But I still need to finish it!!!! I can’t just drop it? It’s almost done! Just… uh… a few more chapters?

Maybe 2 or 3? I could end it rather quickly if I end it on a sour note. Would people hate me for that? Probably. It might be for the best. I am not really vibing with this story anymore. I already ruined it for myself. N I put too much pressure on my mushy brain. It’s gonna be over soon… hopefully. Maybe I’d be more hyped about it, if people gave me better feedback? There isn’t much of a reason for me to keep writing. But I would hate for it to end without a proper ending. So I’ll write an ending and get it done and then I will start with something new.

Maybe I’m merely sad cuz I didn’t get as much interaction as I would’ve liked? My confidence is frail. If people don’t give me input on how things are for them, I’ll assume that they hate everything that I came up with. But once it’s done and released, it’d be blasphemous to go back and rewrite it…

Heck the story doesn’t even have a proper title. It pops up when u search for the character… which is bad!! Cuz the story is rated M but there don’t seem to be any hindrances for accessing it??? It’s just up on Google and anyone can click on it??? If you search for it on quotev, u gotta turn on adult content to see it but what’s the point if Google smacks it right in your face???

It prolly doesn’t fall under mature content… I haven’t written a whole lot of heehoo stuff cuz I’m too much of a coward. Godddd I should’ve put it on ao3 instead… but it’s too late for that and also… I like quotev. U can add pictures lolol. It’s more befitting of a beginner such as myself. But I should’ve tagged it better? Honestly, I’ve never written a serious story before. No idea what to tag outside of the characters. Hell. I don’t even know where the story is going or what’s going to happen next, cuz I write as I think and I think as I go and I’m not doing a whole lot of planning ahead.

I’m rambling so goddamn much on this post here cuz I don’t have any friends or confidants. No way of asking for directions. It’s always just me talking to myself for hours and my mental health is shredded like discarded papers.

Ughhhhhhhhh. I hate being creative. I think I’ll get something to drink and then I’ll just lay here for a bit.

[hellfireclubmember]

Pretty Girl

a/n: Okay, I haven't written a legit fanfic in years so I'm so nervous publishing this. Any feedback would be appreciated. Also I was thinking of making a part 2, lmk if any one would like me to

warnings: none, just fluff, maybe annoying mutual pining. also probably a few mistakes. I didn't thoroughly proof read this

word count: 1.9k

summary: Dustin can't stop talking about the sub he got to fill in for Lucas, making Steve want to smash his head into a wall. That is, of course, until he sees you.

PART 2 HERE PART 3 HERE

disclaimer: reader is 18 and a senior in high school

Steve was losing his mind. He loved Dustin Henderson as if he were his little brother, but he might just strangle him at this very moment. First, he would not stop talking about Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson and now he won’t shut up about the substitute they had to bring into their little nerd club to play their little nerd game.

“… she’s just so cool! She had no idea how to play, Mike and I gave her a quick lesson before the session and then she goes and lands a crit hit on the most powerful dark wizard of all time!” Dustin was so impressed he couldn’t see that Steve wasn’t even really paying attention anymore, choosing to stack the new releases in alphabetical order instead. “She’s so pretty too” Dustin sighed “and nice.”

“Is Dustin still talking about that girl he forced to play Dungeons and Dragons?” In walked Robin from the back room. She sat down behind the counter. “Hasn’t stopped.” Were the first words Steve had said in the last twelve minutes.

“I did not force her!”

Dustin had found you sitting alone at the very back of the library whilst writing an essay for your English class. You were one of the maybe four students that were in there. Most of your peers excited for the basketball game that day after school. Dustin had realized he had seen you before and almost all the times he had seen you, you were alone. The boy figured asking you would be a win-win; this way you could maybe gain some more friends and he wouldn’t have to die. He rushed towards you, rambling about hellfire and getting his ass kicked by Eddie before he knew it you were agreeing to help. In all honesty, it wasn’t very easy for you to agree. Your stomach twisting at the thought of being in a room full of people you didn’t know but saying no to this boy somehow seemed worse; like killing a unicorn or something.

After agreeing, Mike and Dustin sat with you in the library and helped you create a character sheet, explaining the basics of DND in the short period of time before the session. You were never really expecting to have fun. In fact, you were fully expecting for your character to die immediately. When she didn’t you started to pay more attention. The excitement around you fueling your own. It was nice to be a part of something, surrounded by people that loved something so much made you feel warm and happy. You had never felt so at ease, comfortable doing something out of your comfort zone.

“Yeah? So, cornering (y/n) in the school library the way Steve does every female customer was the ethical thing to do?” Robin said.

“Dude! I don’t corner anyone.” Steve looked up indignantly from the VHS tapes at Robin.

Robin rolled her eyes and continued her scolding. “You know she was gonna say yes, she’s the nicest person I know. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her say the word no.”

Steve was listening to them argue about whether Dustin dragged you to the nerd meeting or not when he heard the door to the video store open. His eyes landed on you walking through the door. The prettiest girl he’s ever seen walking into the fluorescent lit store. Lips parted as you tried catching your breath from the bike ride there. Steve felt like he forgot how to act like a human being, not even being able to execute his usual greeting or offer a charming smile. He watched you look around the store. Pretty eyes scanning until they landed on something behind Steve. You raised your hand to give a small wave. A wave he almost returned had Dustin not spoken up.

“(y/n). hey!” Dustin said as he walked over to the front of the register, right beside Steve. He had his eyes fixed on you, stare unwavering as you made your way toward Dustin and himself. Your eyes flicked over to Steve, acknowledging him with the cutest smile he had ever seen. Steve was never this awestruck by something as simple as a smile but he wished he could tattoo your smile to the inside of his eyelids so he could never forget it.

“Hi (y/n).” Robin was the next person to greet you.

“Hi Robin, I didn’t know you worked here.” He finally heard you speak and Steve never thought a voice could be so sweet.

“You know me, never one to brag.” A small giggle escaped your lips and if he thought your voice was sweet your laugh was like cotton candy; soft and pillowy. He couldn’t help but want to make you laugh for the rest of his life. Robin watched Steve look at you with the dumbest look she’s ever seen on his face, which is saying a lot. She genuinely had to bite back a laugh. “You know the hair, right?” Robin nodded her head towards Steve. That was his queue he had to get rid of the heart eyes and turn on the charm. You looked up at him which is when it finally clicked. He recognized you from his time at Hawkins High. Remembered you walking the halls alone with your head down most of the time. He never thought too much about you back then, which right now he regretted greatly, distracted with his douchebag friends and his relationship with Nancy to ever really notice most people.

“Yeah, I remember Steve.” You nodded your head. “Hello.” The hint of another smile on your lips. He so desperately had to hold himself back from hugging you. He wanted to be close to you, to hold you. Steve really didn’t understand what had gotten over him. Sure, he had liked girls before but being this whipped so immediately was definitely new to him.

“Hi, sweetheart.” He tried licking moisture back onto his lips, but his mouth was dry. He leaned back onto the counter and smiled. Trying his best to be as smooth as possible. He didn’t want to look at Robin or Dustin, mostly because that meant having to look away from you but also because he knew the look on their faces right now would be one of disgust.

The skin on your face started feeling incredibly warm. You had never spoken to Steve when he was in school, to be fair you hadn’t spoken to many people but speaking to King Steve seemed an impossible task. He was like art at the museums you liked to frequent, beautiful but untouchable.  

Dustin removed his gaze from Steve whilst shaking his head and placed it back on you. “What are you doing here?” He asked. Right, you came here for something. What was that something? The brief interaction with Steve was enough to make you slightly lightheaded. You started nipping at the inside of cheek, rummaging through your head.

“Oh, I accidentally took your DND notebook yesterday. It said return if found and then your address was inside, which by the way I think is an awful idea. There are weird people out there, Dustin. You have to be more careful.” Steve and Dustin making eye contact, both thinking about the irony of telling Dustin to be safe. You reached for his notebook inside your messenger bag. “When I got to your house your mom said you might be here.” You took a few steps, offering him his journal. Now close enough to be able to smell Steve’s cologne, your gaze drifted for a second up to his face and he was looking down at you. The second your eyes met, he smiled, making you look away abruptly. He was making you way more nervous than usual. Your hands were getting clammy, and your breath was a little shaky. Steve Harrington was so beautiful. You always knew this but you had never had the honor of being this close to him.

“Dude, this is like the second time you’ve saved my life!” Dustin grabbed the notebook with a wide smile. You let out a small laugh. This kid’s smile was infectious, no matter the situation, if Dustin smiled you smiled. Those are the rules.

“Trying my best.” You closed your bag whilst taking a few steps back. Trying to make some distance between you and Steve, hoping to any God he couldn’t see your shaky hands. “Right. I’ll just get going then.” As the words left your mouth Steve started to panic. He can’t just let you leave. He had only said two words to you. His brain going on over drive trying to think of ways to get you to stay even a little longer. He looked outside at your bike and then at the dark clouds in the sky. It was definitely going to start raining soon.

“Wait!” He said this a little louder than anticipated. He cleared his throat as you turned your head to look at him. He smiled softly as he looks at your eyes again. He thinks he could look at your eyes all day. “You just got here; you should hang around with us. It’s for sure going to start raining soon. I can’t let a pretty girl get caught riding her bike in the rain.” Dustin snickered and Steve elbowed his shoulder immediately to get him to shut up. The taller boy watched as your eyes widened slightly at the use of the word pretty. You were so cute it was driving him crazy.

“Yeah, dingus is right. You should stay, besides tonight’s movie night. You can join us at Steve’s house. We’re gonna pig out on junk and watch horror movies. Steve is going to drive us all home after, he’s our trusty chauffeur.” Steve looked at Robin as she spoke, and he swears he could’ve planted a kiss on her forehead right then and there. Robin looked at him for a second with a small smirk on her face.

You fiddled with the strap of your bag as you thought about it. It would really suck to be caught in the rain, besides this could be fun right? You said yes to DND and that was fun. Doing things you wouldn’t normally do seemed to be working for you so why stop now? Of course, this had nothing to do with the way your heart raced when Steve looked at you or the way you really wanted to be in his presence longer or how pink and shiny his lips looked or how you wondered what his hand would feel like holding your hand.

“I would really like that.” You smiled at Robin and then turned to look at Steve. “If that’s okay with all of you.” This was directed more at Steve than it was to Dustin. There was a moment of silence as Steve stared at your pretty face, a smile adorning his features making him look like a lovesick puppy. It was Dustin’s turn to elbow the idiot to his left. That was enough to break the trance.

“Of course it’s okay with us. Right Dustin?” He glared at the boy that just assaulted him.

Dustin nodded his head. “It’d be an honor to have you at our movie night, (y/n).” Steve reached over to pat his younger friend on the shoulder.

“It’s set then.” He said, more excited for it to reach closing time than he has ever been.