#and this is a slowburn so decidedly NOT short

[postalninja]

You have Skyrim mentioned as a fandom of yours in your blog description, but I actually don't know your stance on it at all - who are the blorbos?? the ships, if any???? (And - get better soon!!)

Yesssss! I've written four fics for Skyrim (plus one long neglected WIP), which is why it's listed at all. I didn't play it when it first came out (open world games are hard for me - I tend to get overwhelmed) so it took a couple of years and two characters before I finally properly got into it. The sneaky Bosmer archer is the build that clicked for me - I got really good at killing things from a distance so I was having lots of fun with it. I ended up playing more than 300 hours with that character, which probably means that Skyrim is the single game that I've put the most time into. My partner has been an Elder Scrolls fan since the beginning of the series, but I couldn't get into Oblivion when I tried it, so Skyrim is my first and only Elder Scrolls experience. I still dearly love it, despite its jankiness and flaws! As for ships, it's kind of a funny story. When I was playing the game and looking around for a husband, the only character that I wanted was already married - big, burly Ulfberth War-Bear. Now, at the time this was decidedly not my type!! I've always liked long-haired pretty boys and emo villains, but there was something about him that intrigued me. And I started developing this fantasy in my head about him and my character getting together, how it would happen, the drama around the fact that he was married, etc. And a few years later when I started writing fanfic, I actually wrote it! To this day I think it's the most self-indulgent thing I've ever written, and I have a special fondness for it despite the fact that the pacing is off and that my writing has improved a lot since then. If nothing else, it has some excellent drama. I even incorporated Quintus Navale, the character I actually ending up marrying in the game, to make it even more dramatic! And then I wrote a spin-off about him and Adrienne (the spurned spouses!) which was a lot of fun. Later, I wrote my first novel-length fic about Rune from the Thieves Guild and his search for his parents. I spent a lot of time developing the plot, writing and re-writing the first draft, and it's still one of my favorite things I've written. It features Rune/Sapphire as a ship, but is a bit of a slowburn, with more focus on the plot.

And then I got inspired for an alternate version of events from that story, which is the neglected WIP that I mentioned. I created an OC for Rune's mother who I really grew attached to, and I wanted to explore how things would have turned out had she made different choices. I have 45 pages written, but have been stuck for a long time with it, especially since I moved on to writing other longfic ideas. I'd still love to finish it one day. The most recent Skyrim fic I wrote is a short, funny idea I came up with for a fic exchange. It pits Arcadia and Farengar from Whiterun against each other, and I loved the result! One of the funnier things I've written, I think! ^_^ Goodness, I've blabbed on! Thanks for the ask and the well wishes! <3

[flowertot-s]

Wynne is definitely not dysfunctional? Sounds suspicious (pls tell us more about wynne)

oh my god. holy shit. buckle in I'm abt to go buck wild

here is all of the info on my horrible little woman, Wynne Lorelai <3

more info under da cut ;)

unfortunately I don't have any screenshots of her cause I play on xbox and todd hates me and wants me dead personally

Wynne is a high elf mage who specialises in destruction, conjuration, and restoration magic. She comes from a pretty well off noble family and is the eldest of 3 children with one sister (middle child) and one brother (youngest). Her mother died of a terminal illness when she was young and she never really got over it, and her father is the worst and most putrid little man in all of Tamriel.

To make a long story short; her youngest brother is set up to inherit the family's entire estate as well as a free ride into any college of his choosing with impressive research funding to boot. Her brother is a complete brat with no interest in academia, and Wynne wants this opportunity so badly. Her father convinced her that if she put in the work and showed dedication he would consider her as a candidate.

So after many long years of dedicating herself to the study of magic and working herself to the bone for a sliver of her father's approval, her younger sister learned that he never actually planned on giving her the inheritance or the funding either way; he just wanted to see how far she would go to prove herself. She trusts her sisters word, says "fuck this shit," and sets off to Skyrim with her main goal being the College of Winterhold so that she can hopefully continue to study unbothered. She didn't choose Skyrim for any specific reason, she just wanted to be as far from her family in the Summerset Isles as physically possible.

Jokes on her cause Uh Oh! now she's the chosen one and has to save the world from certain doom or some shit.

Some little facts:

- she would rather actually die than be forced to solve other people's problems for them. wynne is decidedly not a nice person and only helps people for her own benefit or because she thinks she might find an opportunity to learn and research.

- she hates being treated like a moron even though she frequently treats other people like idiots. it's why she never got along with delphine; their senses of entitlement and refusal to budge on their own beliefs and ideas really got in the way of their professional relationship. which means that after delphine suggests (see; practically orders her) to kill paarthurnax she downright refuses and they never speak again. she still sometimes does converse with Esbern, purely because they're both scholars and like to trade research.

- she hates feeling like people pity her for what she’s had to go through but she’s still a sensitive soul, she cries way more than she’d ever let on

- she has a soft spot for the greybeards and enjoys spending time in high hrothgar just because she can finally get some god damn peace and quiet, also paarthurnax is her pseudo dragon dad

- wynne is stubborn as all hell and is incredibly good at holding grudges. if u slighted her over a sweet roll ten years ago she WILL remember and WILL bring it up just to be petty.

- her main adventuring party consists of; Auri, Inigo, Lydia, Lucien, and Kaidan

- she gets along well enough with Auri (though they aren't especially close), Inigo is her silly goofy little guy who she mostly keeps around just for fun, she enjoys Lydia's company because she doesn't feel the need to fill in silences with pointless chit chat (plus she's like. SUPER strong), Lucien is her academic pal (and also probably her favourite) and she likes hanging around him because they can talk on the same level without having to dumb herself down, and Kaidan. oh Kaidan.

- she and Kaidan have a winding slowburn enemies to lovers arc which starts off as them not understanding each other like. AT ALL. their upbringings and backgrounds are so different that it's hard for them to see eye to eye on a lot of things, which results in more than a few arguments.

- Kaidan initially sees her as a spoiled and stuck up noble bitch with no regard for anything but her own pride, and Wynne sees him as a big stupid brooding man with no capacity to show any respect to anyone.

- BUT they do slowly start opening up to each other and confide in each other about a lot, one thing leads to another, then it's all "I could tear that armor right off your body." (real smooth, Kai)

- she talks like she's the smartest person in the room at all times (she probably is) and talks down to literally everyone who she perceives as beneath her which is like, basically everyone

- she becomes the arch mage of the College of Winterhold by sheer dumb luck and it's basically a HUGE "fuck you" to dear old dad

- the only reason she even bought into any of this dragonborn bullshit was the promise she’d be able to learn and expand her knowledge, but then she gets caught up in this whole civil war business and dragons and elder scrolls and she’s just ?????? how did i even end up here

- she hates having to help people who are too weak to defend herself but her moral compass (kaidan) insists that she helps where she can even when it pisses her off

- her hands and arms are incredibly scarred from the numerous years she spent trying to perfect her destruction magic, which is why she wears gloves and bandages 24/7

- she likes fucking around with potions and mostly tests them on Inigo (who is MORE than happy to be a guinea pig for his bestie)

- she's a complete asshole to everyone who she doesn't like which is like. 90% of people, and even if she likes you, the assholeishness is only dialed down a couple notches (especially if you're stupid)

[clefairymuke]

daydream | chapter one

next chapter

pairing: armin arlert x reader

themes: college/modern au, slowburn, friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, smut

tw: recreational drug use, drinking, explicit sexual content

word count: 1705

The clock was obnoxiously loud with its endless ticking as you struggled to answer yet another dreaded short response prompt, your eyes threatening to trail over to the paper next to yours. You cursed your professor in your head, wondering who had the audacity to dub them "short answer" when answering every nit-picking facet of the question required at least a page-long essay to respond to the prompt in its entirety. The pen would soon break through the paper with how aggressively you were pushing it down. Against your better judgement, you allowed yourself to glance at your friend's paper. All you were able to read was the scrawled cursive "Armin Arlert" at the top before it was pulled from the table and started its journey to the professor's desk. Armin shot you a side eye as he threw his bag over his shoulder, and you returned a feigned apologetic grin. You watched as he waltzed confidently to the front of the room. Everything was so easy for him.

You sighed as he laid his paper on Professor Hange's desk and left. You knew he'd be outside waiting on the bench by the sidewalk when you finally finished; it was looking like he would be there for at least an hour. You tried to focus. What exactly had you learned so far in Biology 220? As far as you knew, the answer was absolutely nothing. After another while of pretending to think while actually berating yourself internally for your lack of studying, you did what you do best: you wrote down 200 words of absolute bullshit and hoped for a passing grade. It had put you through a year and a half of school -- you hoped it wouldn't fail you now.

It made sense for Armin to do well. After all, he was a biology major on the premed track. You, on the other hand, chose English on the form last minute in order to take the least amount of science and math possible. Learning that general education required sequences instead of singular courses had smacked you in the mouth. You erased the last word and fixed your handwriting three times before you finally decided you were finished, taking the paper up front to join Armin's and relishing in the sunlight hitting your face as you left the building.

"How'd you do?" Armin asked sweetly, perched on the nearest of many walkway-side benches along the campus. You saw a coffee in his hand. As you got closer, you noticed one for you sitting next to him. You smiled.

"I honestly think I did fucking awful. I haven't retained anything from Hange's class at all. She's not even a bad teacher -- I think it just isn't for me," you answered, taking a seat and lifting the coffee to your lips. It was your favorite.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his head. He'd had a haircut only the day before; he always toyed with the prickly hair on the back of his neck for the first few days after one. You wondered if he'd ever get used to having his hair shorter. "I've offered to help you, you know. I always say I'll start studying with you, and you always say we will. Then I end up studying while you lay there on your phone halfway listening."

"Well, midterms are over now. Maybe I'll let you teach me a thing or two before finals. What's important is that spring break starts now." For a moment you could see yourself and Armin laid out on the beach, sun soaking into your skin with the soft crashing of waves present only a few yards away; that was the definition of heaven. You saw Armin grin as he started to pull his bag over his shoulder in preparation for your walk to his dorm. A common misconception about your friend was that he was a stick in the mud; however, this was decidedly the furthest thing from the truth. Although he was perfect academically -- 4.0 GPA, active in student organizations, one of the way-too-happy people that shows the freshmen around campus each year -- he knew how to have a good time. Perhaps it was years of corruption from you and your other friends (Eren and Jean, in particular), but outside of a god-awful science class, he was easily your favorite person to be around.

The two of you walked side by side across campus, chatting idly about the party you both planned to attend that night and the long drive that awaited you come morning. It was the perfect weather out, a sunny and comfortable 70 degrees. Armin was dressed in an old-looking T-shirt advertising some bedroom pop artist you were unfamiliar with, making it more than noticeable how much he had filled out since he bought it. Khaki shorts hung a few inches above his knees. You had to look up at him when you spoke, quite the contrast to the many years your friendship spanned before. His eyes, though, were still the same blue, and that was unlikely to change.

When you arrived at his building, you trudged up the stairs behind him, grateful you would soon be able to sit down. Walking everywhere was not your favorite activity, but the campus was quite small, and driving would be overkill. You waltzed into the room as you did nearly every day, throwing a hand up to greet Eren. He had his arm thrown lazily around a girl you didn't recognize, his half-up half-down hair falling in his face as he nodded back at you with a smile, eyes half-open and glossy red.

You practically threw yourself into Armin's bed, which was neatly made aside from the plush blue blanket that laid across the yellow duvet. You were quickly underneath it, making short work toward comfort as you nuzzled into a pillow. Armin took the time to put his things away and change into loose-fitting charcoal sweatpants before taking a seat at your side, fiddling with a time-passing puzzle game on his phone.

"I think we should just stay in instead of going to the party and taking that trip. I'm pretty comfortable, and I have plenty of sleep to catch up on," you told him, the joke barely present in your voice. He chuckled, leaning back across your legs onto the wall behind him.

"You're required to come to the party," Eren called over to you, taking his lips away from the nameless girl's neck. "We promised Jean. And you're required to come on the trip, because we can't afford the Airbnb without your charitable contribution."

"Besides," Armin chimed in, looking over at you, "you were lucky your request off got approved. Think of the poor souls that are stuck behind the register at Barnes and Noble this week. They wouldn't want you to use their vacation in vain."

"When you put it that way. . ." you laughed, checking the time on your phone. "What time did Jean tell us to come?"

"Nine," Armin responded quickly, switching from his game to Twitter. It was only 4:06, according to the white numbers above the picture of you and Armin at your high school graduation. You had quite a bit of time to kill.

"Want to watch a movie?" you asked the blond boy at your side. You were already holding the Xbox controller before he could reply. You got on Disney+, arguably your favorite part of being in Armin's dorm, then tossed the controller toward him to choose. He chose, as he always did, some superhero movie that you would pretend to hate and secretly love. He looked over at you and grinned wide, pressing play.

As the opening sequence rolled, you figured it wasn't the worst way to waste time.

---

The party was lame in the best way. Of course, no one outside of the typical circle had shown -- Connie and Sasha, Marco, the current girl hanging from Eren's hip (Ellie, maybe?), Ymir and Historia, and Eren's sister, Mikasa. Or, at least, he called her his sister. She was adopted -- and desperately in love with him -- and you wished he would avoid calling her that for the sake of saving face. Watching her sit angrily next to him while he toyed with the girl's hair was almost as awkward as the way Jean sat next to Mikasa, beer in his hand and flirting without shame. Connie, Sasha, and Ymir spent nearly the entire party trying to convince Historia and Marco to try smoking on Connie's new bong. Between all of these preoccupied people, you and Armin were left sharing a recliner, passing a blunt back and forth and discussing the plans for tomorrow.

Jean's apartment was trashed in the way a 19-year-old boy's would typically be, soda and beer cans lining the tables and clearly visible dust on his furniture. If you squinted, you'd see he was using his U.S. History textbook as a rolling tray. Professor Erwin would be disappointed.

Your thoughts had begun to become fuzzier and fuzzier. You could tell Armin was feeling the same by the way he giggled uncontrollably at a stupid joke Connie made across the room, causing you to chuckle. He was pretty when he laughed, white teeth poking past his lips as his clear blue eyes squinted into almost nothing. It didn't help that they were already half-closed, pink and red lining his blue irises. You and Armin were social smokers, and drinkers, and what came with that was the unfortunate fact that you were both very lightweight.

You listened absentmindedly to the soft R&B Jean was playing, obnoxiously enough, from Pandora on his TV. Every time an ad played, you died a little inside. You found yourself thanking those that didn't come tonight. Eventually, when you were all in some way intoxicated, you all gathered to watch a movie. You had never heard of it, but Jean and Eren were big fans, which meant it was likely some action film with a bit of plot if you squinted at it.

Before the title screen, you had your head laid on Armin's shoulder, gently drifting to sleep.

This was peace.

[bbugyu]

hi can i request a wonwoo friends to lovers!!

abso-fuckin-tutely! since you were a lil vague, i asked my friendly neighborhood wonwoorideul for a prompt and she shouted out the song nothing by bruno major (aka one of the sweetest songs on wonwoo's spotify playlist)!

nothing + jeon wonwoo

moving in with your best friend was the best idea you ever had, even if he claimed it was his.

wc.3707 | fluff, angst, roommates/friends to lovers au, gn reader, like one swear and it barely counts bc it was hoshi, slowburn pining, wonwoo sees you and his mind is full of poetry, happy ending! (jp ver.)

thank you so much for my very first request! i tried to post this quickly, so i’m sorry if it’s not as polished as my other pieces. i was so impatient to get this out hahah. i love me some domestic wonwoo

*

wonwoo wasn't just your roommate, to be perfectly frank. the lanky guy had wormed his way into your close circle when you had worked part time together at a grocery store fresh out of high school, and when you both decided you needed to be closer to the big city, it just made sense to go together. you had never lived alone before, and your mother had said she would feel better if you had someone she knew around, someone to take care of you for her, even though you insisted you would be fine. she tried to get you to move in with your auntie, and while eating her food would be a definite plus, you absolutely despised the idea of living under the same roof as your chaotic cousin. so, when wonwoo mentioned wanting to get out of your podunk village, you excitedly told him you wanted to move to seoul.

"okay," he had said, looking at you over his comic book as he lounged on your family's couch. "let's go, then."

two months later, his dad was helping the two of you move into a tiny two bedroom apartment in a neighborhood of seoul that housed mostly old married couples, but you liked that it was a little more quiet than downtown. it felt more like home, but busy enough to give you your fill of the city. you could walk down the street to a cafe every morning on your way to the station, headed to your shitty temp desk job that you had just to pay bills. wonwoo was able to transfer to the main seoul office of his existing job as a software engineer, and was even able to work from home most days. you were forever jealous that he could hop onto remote meetings wearing a tie and button up over a pair of sweats. on days that he had to go into the office, though, he would walk with you and point out shops that you had yet to visit in your few months of living in the city.

"since when are you a flowers kinda guy?" you asked, gaze following his finger to the florist shop he pointed out.

he shrugged, adjusting his backpack straps over the blazer he wore. "might be nice for the apartment."

you eyed him. despite knowing him for years, sometimes he still surprised you.

on days that he didn't ride the subway with you, you would come home to find him sitting on the couch, swinging around a digital new york city from a web on the tv. you noticed the potted plant on the kitchen counter when you dropped your keys off in their designated tray. they were red, with tight round petals. you thought they almost looked like roses, but you knew that wasn't right. peonies? begonias? you didn't know enough about flowers to recognize them, but you figured he went to the florist in your neighborhood while you were at work.

he paused his game after landing on a roof somewhere. "how was your day?"

"good," you said, pulling off your light jacket and standing by the couch. "what's with the flowers?"

wonwoo looked around you to the yellow ceramic and red blooms, both colors that suited the other few colorful items in your minimalistic (mostly from having only lived there a few short months) white kitchen. "camellias. i thought they looked nice."

you nodded, thinking that he had more to say, but decided not to press. "have you eaten?"

he stretched on the couch, hands falling to the back of his beanie clad head as he let out a strangled noise. "do i ever eat without you?"

that made you smile. "any thoughts on dinner?"

wonwoo shook his head, settling back into the couch. "what do you feel like?"

"i'm craving pizza."

wonwoo pushed his glasses up his nose and adjusted to fish his phone out of the pocket of his favorite track pants. "go take a shower, i'll order."

you grinned. "you are such a good roommate."

"correction, i'm the best roommate. oh, also," he pointed towards the fridge in the kitchen. "soonyoung came by with side dishes from your aunt."

"oh, thank god," you said, walking over to wash your hands quickly and check the haul. "i was worried we were gonna have to buy kimchi this week. he wasn't annoying, was he?"

wonwoo shook his head, chuckling at the way you talked about your cousin as he tapped through menus on his phone. "he was fine. complained that you weren't here."

"doesn't he have a job?" you opened a plastic container and popped a sweet braised potato into your mouth. your voice was muffled as you chewed. "he knows i get off at five. if he wants to see me he should come when he knows i'll be home."

the small smile on wonwoo's face never left as you rambled about soonyoung, then your fantastic chef of an aunt, and then the new guy that sat at the desk next to you that microwaved fish for lunch. seriously, who microwaves fish? in an office?

wonwoo commiserated with you, then told you to hurry and go wash up, because he had just submitted the pizza order, to which you responded "okay, okay, i'm going. i'll be back in a minute."

after a steam filled shower, you left the bathroom while toweling your damp hair, sporting a plain black v-neck with your, similar to wonwoo's, favorite track pants.

wonwoo looked up and laughed, tugging on the hem of his shirt. "we match."

you eyed one of the several black muscle tanks wonwoo sports regularly and giggled, pulling at the stripes down your pants. "we do. you want wine?"

"hell yeah. friday night, baby."

you laughed, returning to the bathroom to hang your towel before making your way to the kitchen, pulling a couple of stemless wine glasses out of your cabinet. they were the only glasses in the apartment because, as wonwoo had said, your priorities are notoriously bad. but, you reminded him, they worked just fine with water too, so you convinced him that buying real glasses could wait until you were both slightly less busy. you grabbed the bottle of red wine off the counter and looked at the seal. "wonwoo."

"yeah?" he paused his game and looked at you over the small kitchen cart that acted as an island. you held up the wine.

"new bottle."

he sighed dramatically. "what would you do without me?"

you grinned happily as you got the wine opener out of a drawer, holding it out for him. he snatched the bottle and opener from your hands and made a face, but began twisting the corkscrew into the cork nonetheless. you planted your elbow on the wood topped cart and watched him as he tugged out the cork, decidedly ignoring the fact that he was wearing a sleeveless shirt and he definitely looked like he had taken a trip to the gym today. 

"you pour, i always miss."

you laughed, pulling at the shrapnel of the seal that wonwoo always refused to cut away before removing the cork. "maybe if you didn't make the neck such a mess it wouldn't go everywhere when we pour it."

"unnecessary step," he retorted, watching you as you poured the wine into the two glasses. he took the one closest to him as you finished. "cheers."

"cheers," you repeated, clinking your glass against his and taking a gulp. you let out a noise of approval. "happy friday."

wonwoo was smiling as he took a sip. "happy friday."

"where's the pizza?"

"uh," he patted his empty pockets, then put down his wine glass to retrieve his phone from the couch. "down the street."

wonwoo had to shove his feet into a pair of slides to meet the delivery person at the entrance of your building, and when he returned, you were giggling into your glass at your sns feed. the wine hit maybe a little too hard, but you hadn't eaten in too long for you to have almost polished off a glass already.

wonwoo gestured for you to join him on the couch, so you grabbed the bottle of wine and tucked it under your arm, carrying the two glasses over to where he was shutting off his game.

you ate merrily, and then you talked. about nothing and everything all at the same time. this happened more often than you ever thought it would, but a week into living in the city, wonwoo had come home from hanging out with some old friends to you crying on the couch with a show on that was far too comical to be the source of your tears. that night, he stayed up with you until the sun was peeking up over the buildings, listening to your worries and struggles. he shared his own fears. you were a blubbering mess. he kept sniffling his nose, acting like the tears welling up in his eyes weren't there when you laughed, despite yourself. wonwoo and you had always been close, or as close as past coworkers that had the same friend circle could be, but this was different. you couldn't remember the last time you had cried like that in front of anyone, much less someone who wasn't your mother.

when you woke up on the couch past noon, your sunday to a late start, your arms were wrapped around wonwoo's torso as he slept, one hand tucked behind his head and the other on your back. his face was inches from yours. your cheeks were pink and you suddenly felt hot, trying as gently as you could to escape without waking him. he stirred, but only to readjust as you snuck away.

he said nothing about the cuddling when he woke to the sound of you closing the front door, and you smiled as you held out the iced americano you got him at the cafe down the street. he squinted at you and scratched his head, taking the drink and sipping it before even testing his voice.

"thanks."

he looked at you, eyebrows furrowed. "what? you bought coffee. thank you."

you sat next to him and swirling the straw in your own drink. "no, i mean for staying up with me. sorry i was a mess."

there was a pause, and your heart almost stopped when he put an arm over your shoulder. "you weren't. and i'll stay up with you whenever you want."

wonwoo sipped at his drink again, giving you a light squeeze when a tear fell down your cheek.

living together meant you saw a side of him you had never seen before. the little things he did throughout his day, when he wasn't even particularly conscious that you were in the same room as him. he always bit at his thumb when he was working, and he had a habit of leaving the milk carton open in the fridge. he always made you smile when he emerged from his room with his headphones loud enough for you to hear them from across the room, and he cluelessly bobbed his head to whatever he was listening to while he refilled a water bottle, waving and smiling before he returned to his room. when your mom asked you how living with wonwoo was, you told her he was great. clean, respectful, and quiet. that you had never been closer. that he made you feel safer so far from home. you didn't, however, tell her that you discovered that he liked running home from the gym at 2 pm on the weekends, laying out on the floor with his shirt over his head before he convinced himself to take a shower.

you had always thought wonwoo was cute. how could you not? he was a handsome guy, but you had accepted your place as a friend to him and happily let it progress no further. but, now that you spent your afternoons off arguing with him on whether or not showering was even worth the trouble, you couldn't help but stare at him. watching his toned chest rise and fall as you thought about how he had admitted his crippling fear of failure to you at three in the morning when your face was puffier than a padded jacket.

you never noticed, but wonwoo watched you closer than he did anything in his life. that night, when he found you crying, he felt his heart clench as you told him all your insecurities. when he had pulled you into his chest and held you tight as you questioned whether moving so far from home was a mistake, he patted your hair and told you that it was going to be fine. you had him, afterall. he had you. the two of you could make it out here. and if you still wanted to go home when the lease was up in six months, he would be there to help you move back.

he didn't stop holding you until your breathing settled, your shoulders stopped shaking. he leaned back into the couch, bringing you with him, and you didn't protest when he ran his hand up and down your back, coaxing you to sleep.

since then, every time you spoke to him, he couldn't help but stare at you intently. he watched your eyes light up while you talked about something you loved. he watched you scrunch your nose as you talked about your new desk neighbor. he watched your lips push into a pout when he said he should go get some work done. he wondered if anyone else noticed the way you sucked on your teeth while you thought up a witty comeback, or the way you carded your fingers through your still wet hair. or the way your eyes creased into a laugh, your hand coming up to block your open mouth. or the way you chewed on your red wine stained lip while he tried to form a sentence in response, when all he wanted to do was put those lips on his.

wonwoo had been stewing with these feelings far longer than he thought bearable, but stuffed it down in fear that he might lose you altogether. he didn't want to lose you altogether. he had gone on a walk halfway through his workday at home, feeling antsy for no particular reason, though if he thought about it long enough he would have realised it was because you had said something about feeling lonely lately that morning. he saw the florist he had pointed out the week before, and his feet brought him through the door.

"hi!" he looked up from the colorful display by the door to the person behind the counter and smiled politely. "did you need help finding something?"

"um," wonwoo blinked and looked around for a moment, then moved towards the counter. "i need a gift, i think."

the florist's eyebrows quirked curiously. "you think?"

he nodded, eyes flicking down to the nametag on his chest. he wondered if he was a foreigner with his three character name, but didn't mention it. "yeah. housewarming. for my, uh-" wonwoo paused, catching himself not knowing how to describe his relationship to you. roommate? wannabe lover? he bit his cheek. "my friend."

joshua nodded slowly, watching wonwoo's eyes as he worked his way through the sentence. "just friend?"

wonwoo stared at a flower arrangement to his right. "something like that."

"got it." joshua walked around the counter and gestured for wonwoo to follow him deeper into the store. "since it's a housewarming, how about a potted plant? something to brighten up the space for a long time. they'll think about you every time they see it."

wonwoo nodded, not saying anything about how funny he thought it was that he said he was getting his own roommate a housewarming gift. "that sounds nice."

"now, i'm not gonna claim to know you," the florist started, putting up his hands to exaggerate his words, they kept moving as he pushed and pulled pots, looking for one in particular. "you've said, like, maybe a full sentence to me, but those were some complex emotions when you called them a friend, so i'm gonna assume i know the situation. i think you should get camellias. specifically red ones."

wonwoo looked at the sunshine yellow pot in the soft featured man's hands. the petals of the flower were round and delicate, and he thought about how you said the color yellow made you happy. "why's that?"

"i think you should look up the meaning when you give them this," joshua said, and for some reason, wonwoo trusted him.

he came back to the apartment thinking about how he might have just gotten scammed into buying the potted flowers in his hands, only to find soonyoung about to hit the buzzer to call your unit, a far too large cooler bag sitting on the bench by the entrance of your building.

"is y/n around?" soonyoung asked, trailing behind wonwoo as they walked up the stairs, struggling slightly with the overpacked bag. "they didn't respond to my kakao."

"they're at work," he replied, flipping his keys over in his hands to find the one for your front door. "they'll be home around six."

"ah, shit," soonyoung laughed. "i always forget you guys have adult jobs. i would kill for a monday through friday."

wonwoo almost laughed, but left the smile on his face. "weekends are kind of overrated, anyways."

the shorter hoisted the bag of dishes onto the kitchen cart while wonwoo closed the door. "who're the flowers for?"

wonwoo stared at the pot in his arm as if it was the first time he had seen it. "oh, uh. just the place."

"for y/n?"

he looked at soonyoung, who had his chin in his palms, elbows planted on the counter as he smiled. he knew he was right when wonwoo didn't respond.

"i think they'll like them," he said, unzipping the top of the bag and starting to unload his mother's packaged dishes for his cousin. "they like the color yellow."

wonwoo just said "i know," before he opened the fridge and started rearranging things to fit the new food.

according to soonyoung, wonwoo was painfully obvious. when he had come by a couple weeks prior, you were arguing with him about some ridiculous childhood memory at your grandparents' home, and while soonyoung laughed, he noticed the smile on wonwoo's face when he watched you. he also noticed the way he instinctively put a hand on your back when you sighed about your newest temp gig, and soonyoung pulled on his ear as he looked at the ceiling, leaning against the kitchen cart much like he was today as he told wonwoo about how oblivious his cousin must be.

you pulled your knees to your chest as you sipped at your wine, the pizza box almost completely polished off by the two of you sitting on the floor in front of your couch. you stare at the pot of flowers.

"they're pretty," you said finally.

you too, wonwoo thought.

"camellias, right?" you turned back to him. "i like them."

i like you, wonwoo thought. "i went to that place down the street. the guy working was nice."

you nodded, sipping again. "any reason in particular?"

"i-" wonwoo paused, staring at his glass. he finished the last gulp in it and put it on the floor next to the pizza box. "you said something about being down recently," he said, folding his fingers together as he leaned back against the couch. "i wanted to get you something, i guess."

you watched his fingers as they pushed his glasses up his nose again, and your heart fluttered at the idea of wonwoo thinking about you when you weren't around. "really? that's so nice," you pouted, shoving his knee.

he laughed, pulling his knee onto the couch to face you. "the guy there - the florist, i guess? his name was joshua. he seemed to really know flowers." he knitted his brows together when he realized he was procrastinating on saying what he was nervous to. he put his arm on the back of the couch, rubbing his eye with the heel of his palm before continuing. "he said i should look up what they mean when i give them to you. red ones, specifically."

you perked up, heart racing. "what they mean? they have meaning?"

"y-yeah, i guess so," wonwoo said, then cleared his throat. 

"hey google!" you looked over to where the device sat by your tv. "what to red camellias mean?"

wonwoo stared at your profile as you watched the device think before its automated voice piped up.

"camellia flowers are available in white, pink, and red, with each color having its own unique symbolism."

you looked over to him, excitedly putting your glass to your lips as the voice continued.

"pink camellias symbolize a longing for someone, and is given to people who are missed."

wonwoo swallowed hard, fingers fidgeting against his temple.

"red camellias symbolize love, passion, and a deep desire."

your eyes widened slightly as the device shut off, glass still to your lips and eyes still on wonwoo's. he stared back at you, and you wondered if he meant it. but he never claimed that he didn't feel those things for you.

before you could think, you clumsily put your glass on the floor and moved. you didn't stop moving until your lips were on wonwoo's, pushing him back into the arm of the couch as you practically crawled into his lap.

his hands found your hips and he helped you settle into him, your fingers tracing his jawline as it worked against yours. you sighed into his lips as his hand slid up under your shirt, placed gently on the small of your back. pulling you into him. when you paused for a moment, you thought about waking up to this exact same view, that day after you had cried all night. but this time, his other hand pulled your jaw back to kiss him again, and you happily complied.

[kloxbian]

You’re my Little Secret Chapter Two

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category: F/F

Fandoms: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan

Relationship: Clarke Griffin/Lexa

Characters: Clarke Griffin, Lexa (The 100), Octavia Blake, Bellamy Blake, Anya (The 100), Mountain Men (The 100)

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe, Forbidden Love, Secret Relationship, Grounder Clarke Griffin, Sort Of, Opposite of slowburn, More tags to be added

Language: English

Words:11603

Chapters (as of 1/28/2020): 5/?

Previous Chapter: “You’re too loud.” Clarke froze, almost dreading looking behind her. The voice was unfamiliar, one she hadn’t heard from the delinquents, but then again, there were a hundred of them. She likely hadn’t met them all. She decidedly ignored whoever thought they could do a better job. She heard a snort of laughter. “You’re too heavy on your feet. Your breath is too loud. You’re unaware of where you’re placing your feet.”

“Alright, would you stop-” Clarke turned around and felt all the breath rush from her body as her eyes met with a familiar pair of jade orbs.

Clarke’s heart stuttered to a stop as she stared at the girl in front of her.

This couldn’t be real. It was impossible. No one could have survived the radiation. Clarke stepped back, shaking her head. “That’s it. I’m insane.”

She heard the girl laugh lightly. “You are not insane, Skaigada. I am quite real.”

Clarke watched her warily. “How? How could people survive? The amount of radiation left after the missiles was lethal. No one should be able to live out here.”

The girl tilted her head curiously. “You live out here, do you not?”

“I-yes, but- have you lived outside your whole life?” “I have. And so have my parents and their parents before them.”

Clarke’s head was swimming with this new information. They weren’t the only people left? They could have survived on the ground for the last few generations? Also, the fact that they now shared a forest with a group of unknowns. “Do your people live around here?”

The girl narrowed her eyes. “Sha. Your Skai ship fell on our territory.”

Clarke held her hands up. “We’re really sorry about that. Truly. We didn’t choose to land here. Hell, we didn’t even know people lived down here. We thought we were the last people alive.”

“‘Down here?’ You did not live ‘down here’ before?”

Clarke shook her head. “No. We lived in space.” At the other girl’s visible confusion, Clarke amended her statement. “Up there. In the sky.”

“Impossible.”

“It’s not!” Clarke huffed in frustration. “It’s- you know what, this doesn’t matter right now. Would you happen to know the best route to get to that mountain over there?”

The girl looked to where Clarke was pointing and stepped back, her hand resting on the hilt of- a sword? “Why do you wish to know? Do you hope to go there? Is that where your people come from?”

“What? No. No, we didn’t come from there. But we think it has resources and want to get there so we’ll have somewhere to survive. We don’t know how to survive out here.”

The girl smiled a bit. “I’ve noticed. I do hope you know that people already inhabit that mountain.”

“They do?” Clarke perked up. “Is it your people? Will they help us?”

The girl practically growled, her hand clenching the hilt of her sword. “Those ripas are not my people!”

“Woah. Calm down. I didn’t mean to offend you.” Clarke looked back at the mountain with a new interest. “You don’t seem to like the people who live there.”

“The maunon are murderers who steal our people and turn them into monsters before sending them back to kill those they once loved.”

Clarke was taken aback. “What? How?”

“We do not know. No one has ever returned from being a ripa.”

Clarke didn’t know how to follow what had turned to a much darker conversation. She glanced at the mountain again, trying to imagine the people inside.

She looked back at the girl. She had her head held confidently and seemed perfectly at ease in the forest, something Clarke could not admit to. She had her head tilted slightly as she watched Clarke.

“Are you the leader of your tribe?” Clarke started a bit, surprised at suddenly being spoken to.

“Not necessarily. I’m trying, but no one wants to listen.”

The girl snorted in amusement. “I noticed. They do not seem to care about their inevitable death.”

“Exactly,” Clarke muttered under her breath before she realized exactly what had been said. “Wait, how would you know that?”

“I have been watching you, Klark kom Skaikru,” she said, moving slowly closer. “You would be a much better leader than the other boy. Bellomi, I believe.”

“Yes.” Clarke shifted nervously, not entirely comfortable with this unknown girl in front of her. “Exactly how much do you know? About us?”

“As much as I need to. You do not know how to survive. You are no threat to us, not as long as you stay the way you are.” She raised her chin up, looking down her nose at Clarke. “You could change that, though. If you were to take charge.”

Clarke was getting confused. “You sound like you want me to take charge.”

“I do.”

“Why? If we would become a threat, then why?”

“Because I have now met you.” Her eyes glistened with interest as she scanned Clarke up and down. “I would not have shown myself to you if I didn’t have a purpose.”

“And what would that purpose be?”

“To ally my tribe with yours.”

-

“What?” Clarke sighed heavily, rubbing her temples. This was getting to be too much. “Why? What could we do for you?”

“In all truthfulness, not much.” The girl looked to the mountain, a frown forming on her face. “But you could do much for others, others who, with your tek, could become an even greater force. I do not want our enemies to get ahold of your tek.”

“We don’t have much of it. What could it do for your enemies?”

“I have seen the one you call Bellomi using his ‘gun,’” she said, the word sounding awkward on her tongue. “In the wrong hands, it could be a weapon of massacre.”

Clarke realized that this girl didn’t know the gun was out of shots, but she didn’t bother correcting her. If these people became hostile, they’d need the leverage. “Okay. Then how do you want to work this ‘allies’ thing?”

“For now, all we need it a mutual agreement to not provoke the other side. I would recommend keeping this from your people for a time until everything is figured out.”

“Wait a minute,” Clarke said. “How would that benefit us?”

The girl cocked her head as she thought. “I suppose I could help provide you with food.”

“Okay. And what do you mean keep it from my people? Why would I keep a whole population hidden from them?”

“Your people are unorganized, unprepared for political moves such as other nations. They would act rashly, especially Bellomi. I fear they would try and attack us. If that were to happen, I would be unable to prevent my people from retaliating.”

Clarke considered. “Okay. Just for now.”

“Very good. Before we part,” the girl reached into her pack and pulled out the rabbit Clarke had failed to catch, a bloody wound on its back boasting its death. “Have this. An act of goodwill, say.”

“Thanks, I guess.” Clarke took the rabbit and weighed it in her hands before she noticed the other girl slipping away. “Hold on.”

She paused. “Yes?”

“I never got your name.” At the girl’s odd look, Clarke elaborated. “You know my name. Shouldn’t you return the favor?”

A beat of silence passed between them and Clarke worried she had overstepped some unseen boundary before the girl answered. “Leksa.” She was gone ere Clarke could say another word.

-

“Lexa.” The name was an unfamiliar one, short and simple, but Clarke liked it in that aspect. She had the rabbit tucked under an arm as she walked back and went over what had just happened.

People. There were whole tribes of people out there, not just surviving, but dealing in politics and other things that Clarke had never thought she’d have to be a part of, not on the ground. And though she hated having to deal with this alone, she knew she couldn’t tell anyone. Not even Octavia. They weren’t ready to hear this, especially not Bellamy’s followers. Octavia, Finn, sure, they’d deal with it fine, but Clarke didn’t trust them. Not yet. Not with something so big.

She got back to camp and the first thing she saw was people crowded around the fire, cheering on something she couldn’t see. Her fellow survivalists were away from the action, seemingly disagreeing with whatever was going on. Clarke went straight to them.

“Clarke! Thank god you’re back,” Octavia said, running up to her. “Bellamy and Murphy are removing everyone’s wristbands.”

“What?” She set the rabbit down on a bin, ignoring Jasper’s exclamation of joy at the prospect of fresh meat and marched over to the fire, pushing through the crowd. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Murphy looked up from whoever’s wristband he was trying to pop off. “What does it look like, Princess? We’re freeing ourselves from the bastards that sent us down here.”

“They’ll think you’re dead.”

“That’s the point,” Murphy deadpanned, pushing down hard on the piece of metal wedged beneath the wristband. It cracked open, and the crowd cheered.

Clarke scowled, pushing over to where Bellamy stood behind Murphy. “Why are you letting him do this?”

“Because, Princess,” he said, rolling his eyes, “We don’t want them coming down here after us. They say they’ll pardon us from our crimes, well, they’re lying. We like being free of their rules, free of all rules. Down here, we can do whatever the hell we want, whenever the hell we want!”

The delinquents roared in agreement, throwing out slurs toward the Ark, toward the chancellor, the council, her mother. Herself. Clarke scowled and, realizing she couldn’t stop this, pushed her way back out of the crowd.

Jasper was still poking and prodding at the rabbit but Monty turned to her, as well as Octavia, Wells, and Finn. “So?”

“It’s pointless,” Clarke said, looking back at the criminals. “They won’t stop.”

Octavia scoffed. “Guess we’ll be splitting this catch up ourselves.”

“It’s a good catch,” Monty said. Jasper nodded in agreement.

They started their own small fire, and Monty did his best to skin the meat before they strung it up over the fire. The smell alone drew over some of the delinquents, but Octavia kept them back. “You got your wristband? No? Then back the fuck up!”

They happily split the meat among the six of them, not nearly enough to sate them but it was the best food they’d in weeks, better than any of the beat that had ever been produced on the Ark. It was their first taste of actual meat and, though it was a little overcooked, it was the best Clarke had ever eaten.

Bellamy wasn’t very happy. “Clarke!” She sighed heavily and heard Octavia mutter ‘here we go again.’ “You got meat?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Or share any of it?”

“I am sharing it,” she said blatantly. “And I didn’t tell you because you don’t seem to care much about whether you survive or not, so why bother?”

“Clarke-”

Octavia interrupted him. “Bellamy, why don’t you stop being an ass for two seconds and you catch your own food.”

Bellamy stood there scowling for a moment before he turned and called a couple of the boys to him, slipping off into the forest.

Clarke felt someone slide in beside her. “So, Princess, how’d you manage to catch this? I didn’t think you were the type to go hunting.”

Clarke raised an eyebrow at Finn, but seeing everyone else looking at her she answered. “Snuck up on it and stabbed it in the back.” Or, that was what she tried to do. Lexa was the one who’d done it.

Finn whistled. “Shit, Princess, that’s harsh.”

“Are you complaining?”

“No,” he said through his bite of rabbit meat.

Clarke turned back to her own food. “Thought so.”

She caught a glimpse of movement in the bushes and could feel a grin tugging at her lips when Lexa appeared. She hovered in the shadows, scanning the camp, and offered Clarke a smirk when she noticed her watching. Clarke grinned back as discreetly as she could before Lexa slipped back into the foliage.

“Clarke?” She focused back on the people around her, waving it off as nothing.

This would be a hell of a secret to keep.

Chapters 1-5 up on ao3 here.

First chapter on Tumblr here, third chapter here. 

[trebletwenty]

Fanfiction Commissions

Hey, I’m Treble and I’m opening up fanfic commissions!

I do mainly Transformers, and I have also done Yugioh and Hetalia in the past. You can still ask me about other fandoms.

The rules:

$10 per 1000 words

$15 per 1000 words of nsfw 

I need a $10 deposit to start working and then the rest on completion

This goes up to a $20 deposit if you have a particular deadline in mind

I will apply rush fees if the deadline is very short

I am open to being paid in installments

I WILL write your rarepair

I MAY write your OC - but we need to talk about them

Won’t do:

non-con

incest

underage

RPF

I also reserve the right to refuse other ships and prompts that aren’t listed here. Please ask me about anything to check.

Message me!

Examples of my work under the cut:

My writing: 

His most loyal - tfp Megasound valentines day commission for @wrathematics

“ Beautiful,” Soundwave said as Megatron came to join him.

“Decidedly so,” Megatron murmured. He was not looking at the stars. 

Soundwave reached out for his hand and they watched the vastness of space spin on without giving them the slightest bit of notice. It made Soundwave feel small, but in a way that was calming, rather than stifling. Stars felt nothing for the affairs of mortal mechanisms. He had always looked upon them with a sense of awe - here is something mighty, here is a force of nature. In some ways it was rather like how he thought of Megatron, but in other ways it just didn’t compare. After all, the stars could not hold his hand. The Neighbour - Scorponok/Flame slowburn for @scorpflame 

The ceiling was, as ever, grey. It was a very particular shade of grey, as selected by Autobot High Command, designed by a team of scientists to be calming; gently soothing the processor and promoting quiet reflection on all your life’s wrongs. Supposedly it stimulated a certain line of code in your motivator. Flame had met Prowl once, entirely by chance, and formed an opinion of the mech that he’d carried with him through every suicide run, seemingly pointless mission and rejected research proposal, and that was that he was a smug glitch who’d clearly deleted any line of empathy code he’d ever had years ago, and as such he highly doubted whether the colour of the ceiling was meant to promote anything other than the urge to stick his head against one of Fortress Maximus’s famed leg guns and tell him that what he did at Simanzi wasn’t really that impressive. 

  Winning Hearts and Minds (and Spikes) - the pin up propaganda epic “I’m not sure why Prime still gives you a chair,” Ironhide mused, “seeing as you never fragging sit in it.”

“Freedom is the right of all sentient beings, Ironhide,” Jazz replied, very seriously. “That’s a direct quote from the mech himself. That means it’s my right to sit in my chair or not sit in my chair as I please.”

Ironhide nodded. “That checks out,” he said, “just as it’s my right to smack your aft when it’s in my face.”

Jazz frowned. “That’s not what it means at all, actually.”

“Smacking Jazz’s aft is the right of all sentient beings,” Ironhide said. “That’s what you said, right? It checks out.” Be Mean to Me - rodiclash. NSFW (so no preview)

[ramheavenandhell]

Rick and Morty Forever and One Hundred Years – Chapter 1: A Bad Influence?

AN: Long title is not only long, but also unoriginal… So, I know that I actually have a lot of other stuff that I should be working on right now, but my muse was like "I wanna do this now!"… Bad muse! Bad! -_- Warnings: Rick/Morty, slowburn; none major warnings for this chapter though Summary: High school AU in which Rick and Morty are not related, but classmates in the same grade. Rick is the super popular kid in school. Morty is the kid that no one wants anything to do with. So how did they end up becoming friends? And is it actually a good or a bad thing that they are? However, the most important question is, could they maybe be more?

Rick and Morty Forever and One Hundred Years – Chapter 1: A Bad Influence? "Beth, I'm telling you that he is a bad influence on our son." Jerry started one of their arguments again. His wife only sighed. "Morty's grades were already bad before he started to spend time with Rick, Jerry. The only influence that I can see is that Morty finally has a friend. You should be happy for him." The brunet still looked unconvinced even if Beth did have a point. "Maybe you're right." He finally resigned with a sigh. The house telephone started to ring and Beth went to answer it. "Of course, I'm right. I'm an intelligent woman. You should know that by now." Jerry actually scoffed at that statement while his wife was too busy to answer the phone to notice it. "Hello Mrs. Smith. Principal Vagina here. The name is real." It chimed from the other end of the line. "I need to talk to you about Morty. Do you have a moment to come by?" Beth looked a little shocked at what she heard, but agreed to come over to the school in half an hour nonetheless.

"I'm glad that you could come on such a short notice." The principal greeted both parents as they entered his office and took a seat. "Sorry that I actually used my private mobile phone to call you, but there is something wrong with the line of the school phone today." "So what did you need to talk about? Is our son in trouble?" Beth didn't have the patience to deal with the old man beating around the bush. Principal Vagina got the hint and decided to shoot straight to the topic. "Morty had been attending a total of 10 lessons within the entire last month and he also had been absent without excuse the months prior to that. On top of that, his grades had dropped so low that he's going to fail all of his classes." "What? Why are you only informing us now about this?!" Beth was furious. What kind of school was this? You would think if her son was absent without excuses from school this often that they would have called them sooner. "I did. Didn't you get the messages that I left with Morty's grandfather?" Now both Smiths looked confused. "What grandfather?" Beth asked. Even Jerry finally got a word in. "I'm sure that you don't have the number from my parents. And why would you even call them? They live in Michigan." "No, I mean his other grandfather. He always answered when I called your home since I couldn't reach you over your mobile phones no matter when I tried." The principal explained. "We don't have anyone living like that with us and there were also no missed calls on our phones. Or did you have any on yours, Jerry?" The brunet shook his head, currently as confused as his wife. "That is weird." Mr. Vagina said. "I could have sworn that I got the right number and this man did introduce himself as Morty's grandfather. Doctor Richard Smith." "Richard? Isn't that the name of Morty's friend…?" Beth instantly realized. "Hah! I knew it! He's ruining our son!" Jerry instantly jumped up at that. "Wait. Why am I celebrating?" Jean Vagina cleared his throat before he continued. "Well, it is true that Morty's friend Rick is as equally absent without excuse." "Then shouldn't you have called his parents as well?" Beth asked. "Yeah. Where are they?" Jerry also asked and looked around. "Well, I have informed his parents, but that's about it. Unlike Morty, he isn't in danger of failing. In fact, he is at the top of all of his classes." "How is that even possible?!" Jerry called foul play. "The kid is a genius." Beth and the principal replied simultaneously. Everyone knew that already and Jerry should really know that, too, by now. There was a long silence in the office in which the adults looked at each other questioningly as if mentally debating what to do now. Eventually Beth sighed. "We will talk with Morty about this and see to it that he won't skip classes anymore and pick up on his grades. Thank you for informing us."

It was already evening when Morty came home. He quickly rushed upstairs to discard his backpack that he had left to school with this morning and then dashed back down to join his family at the dinner table since they were about to eat. "Morty, we need to talk after dinner." His mother declared while she put the food on the table. "Um…okay." The boy mumbled, having a bad feeling and suddenly losing his appetite. If his mom wanted to have a talk with him, it could only mean that he was in trouble. Something, which had happened decidedly more often since he had become friends with Rick… The meal was spent mostly in silence, only the scraping if cutlery on porcelain and the noise of Summer occasionally tapping away on her smartphone could be heard. Morty pushed his peas from one side of the plate to the other, the awkward atmosphere threating to squish him in his chair. It was just weird that not even his chatty father tried to start one of his boring or embarrassing conversations like usual, though he did occasionally open his mouth as if there was something on his mind only to close it two seconds later again. After dinner was finally over, Morty felt like his parents were about to declare his death sentence. They were taking this whole thing to the parlor and as he made his way towards the sofa, he felt like he was walking towards the executioner's block. Okay, maybe he was exaggerating, but this felt serious enough that it might as well be the case. Besides, he had stuff to do. "Can we just get this over with quickly?" he asked, refusing to actually sit down. "Rick is waiting for me. Tonight is a meteor shower that we wanted to watch and it only occurs once every 300 hundred years." "Well, that's too bad. Looks like your little friend Rick will have to watch it alone." Jerry began with his arms crossed over his chest. Morty's eyes widened. "What?" In disbelieve he looked at his mother, who looked like she was actually agreeing with his father for once. "I'm sorry, Morty. I know that you like to spend time with your little friend and that you always do your little science things together, but we got a call from your school today and they told us that you've been skipping classes and are failing the grade. So, you're grounded now and won't be seeing Rick for a while." She stated sternly. Oh, crap! As soon as his mom mentioned the call from school, Morty knew that he had messed up. "For how long are we speaking here?" He asked reluctantly. "You're grounded until you're not in danger of failing your classes anymore." That was just great! Not only was he grounded for an undetermined amount of time now, but he also wouldn't be able to see Rick tonight. His best friend was going to be so pissed if he didn't show up. "Um…can I still go and meet with Rick now and we start the confinement to my room tomorrow?" he asked hopefully. "No. It's starting now. We want you to go to your room and do your homework now, Morty." Beth wouldn't let herself be swayed. Morty sighed in defeat and slunk up to his room. If it had been his father, he might have had a chance to plead his way out of this somehow, but if his mother was the one who said it, then there was no way to get out of it. When he entered his room, he didn't bother flipping on the lights and just fell on his bed. Even if he had been told to do his homework, he was rather busy sulking now. Before he could even think how he was going to explain all of this to Rick, his phone suddenly started to beep and vibrate, signaling that he received a message. You coming or what? It read. Can't. Morty typed quickly back.

Why? I'm grounded. Why that? School called today and my parents found out that I was skipping. That can't be! Unless Vag called from something else than the school line. I only made the jammer and the call divert for that line. My bad. Morty sighed. That was no surprise. For being a genius that could come up with the craziest inventions, Rick actually messed up a lot…even when he would always claim that it almost never happens. Just sneak out then. Morty blinked at the screen. Rick couldn't really mean that. What? Sneak out so that we can meet up. How am I supposed to do that? You know that my bedroom is on the second floor! I can't just jump out the window like that! Get a little creative, Morty. The boy curled his lips and then looked around the room. The whole idea sounded insane to begin with. If his parents found out that he just snuck out of the house, they would totally flip out. Aside from that, he didn't think that he had anything inside his room that would help him with the task. Or had he? What should I do? Tie my bedsheets and clothes together and climb out of the window? At least that's what they did in the movies, right? No. Forget that. Your mom buys cheap off brand stuff. That's going to rip as soon as you put your foot out the window. Aside from that you suck at tying. Remember two weeks ago? You can't even tie your own shoelaces. Morty's brow furled. He knew what event Rick was referring to. Two weeks ago, his shoelace was untied and he hadn't noticed, which resulted in him tripping over it and bashing his head against the lockers. That accident left a deep, bleeding cut on his head, but the only thing that Rick had done was laugh his head off at him, instead of asking if he was okay or helping him. It was one of those moments where he wondered why he was even friends with the jerk. So, he had gone to the infirmary on his own. However, after his stiches were done, Rick was there and actually walked him home. So, he wasn't really such a bad guy after all even if he sometimes was acting like a bully. Morty rubbed with his finger absentmindedly over his temple. It didn't hurt anymore, but there was no doubt that it would leave a permanent – albeit faint – scar behind. Another beep ripped him out of the memory. Just stay put. I'll come over and pick you up. Morty let the hand that was holding the phone fall to his side. He had no doubt that Rick would bring another crazy invention with which he would get him out of the house undetected. Maybe it would be something like an invincibility cloak? Or he finally completed the modification on his motorbike so that he could actually fly with it and would just hover in front of Morty's window, asking him to get on? The possibilities were always endless when Rick was involved. As he laid on his bed and waited for his friend to show up, he wondered once more why Rick was even bothering with him. Morty had actually always been an unpopular kid. He was socially awkward – since as far as he can remember back – and tended to stutter when he got nervous or excited, which always happened when he interacted with someone. People thought that he was retarded because of that and how could he blame them when even his own parents told him that he had some kind of mental disability. The boy never had had any friends and used to be holed up inside his room, reading sci-fi books or watching movies on his laptop. Rick was the complete opposite of him. He was one of the most popular guys in their school, always the center of every party, love interest of countless girls and also feared by many who had been witness of his uncontrollable anger. Luckily, Morty had never been on the receiving end of that, but apparently, his bullies had been. Which was also the reason why Morty's bullies had been backing off ever since Rick became friends with him. Meaning that they at least left him alone as long as Rick was around. Frankly, he hadn't been to school that often lately so he had been avoiding the usual guys like Frank and Brad for quite a while in general. However, it wasn't like Rick had put a stamp on Morty to declare to all of the school bullies that he was off limits now. In fact, Rick kept telling him that he needed to stand up to guys like that or he would only get constantly pushed around in the future as well. Still, being friends with Rick helped him even though the whole fact still made no sense to Morty. Why bother being friends with a loner like him if Rick could be friends with anyone that he wanted? However, aside from the shy brunet, the only people that Rick was close to was a calm and tall boy, who went by the name Brandon Parsons. Rick nicknamed him B.P. though, probably because he thought that name was too boring or something. Morty thought that it did fit the dark-haired teen who had a really obnoxious way of talking. Rick's other best friend was a short, ginger boy whose name was Sammy, but everyone called him Squanchy because he had a weird speech impediment that caused him to say the word "squanch" randomly in his sentences. Now that Morty thought about it, maybe Rick actually preferred to hang out with weirdos who had speech problems instead of popular cliques. At least the brunet also fell into that category with his stutters – though he did improve and not stutter as much around Rick anymore other than when they were in a critical situation, which did happen more often than he liked. Rick himself was quite an eccentric one and had a stutter, but somehow no one was bothered by it – or they just didn't really notice because Rick somehow managed to speak normally around other people most of the time. Morty didn't really know the story behind how Rick became such close friends with B.P. and Squanchy. The story how he and Morty got to know each other was a weird one though. Basically, Morty had started out as an errand boy for Rick. With the reputation that the blue haired genius had, Morty had been scared of him – more than he had ever been scared of any of his other bullies – and so he had just followed with whatever requests Rick came up. The first time was probably even only a coincidence as their science teacher had asked Rick to carry some stuff from the preparation room to the classroom and Rick had looked around and his eyes just landed on Morty. He had briskly told the brunet to do it since he couldn't be bothered and Morty, scared that the other boy would hurt him if he disobeyed, had hurried to complete the task without any complaints. The equipment had been pretty heavy and Morty wasn't really the strongest guy – not like Rick, who looked like he must be working out even though Morty had never seen him doing that once even up to today – but it was still better than having his bones broken or something equally painful like that. The times after that, however, Rick had been deliberately approaching him and giving him tasks like standing in line for him to buy his lunch or other mostly mundane tasks. While it was nothing that Morty couldn't do, he had felt very miserable and bullied by Rick in that time, since he just came back and constantly asked for more and more, starting to take up every bit of free time that Morty had in school – and sometimes even after school. Morty felt like their relationship had started to change when Rick involved him more in his private life. One day, he had just asked the brunet if he was good at keeping secrets. Morty had been so scared at the question and the face that Rick had made that he had been close to wetting his pants. For a moment, he had wondered if the other wanted to make him an accomplice to a crime that he had planned like robbing a bank – or even worse, help murdering someone. Still, too scared of being the one that would end up being murdered, he agreed nonetheless. Imagine his surprise when Rick had led him to a garage park and had shown him what was inside the garage that he had rented. While it was a known fact that Rick had only top grades despite barely paying attention in class – or most often not even attending – he didn't come off as a nerd. However, what was inside the garage was something that could only be described as nerdy. There was an old car that was in the midst of either being repaired or converted and several gadgets were stacked on the shelves and workbench while almost every bit of free space on the wall was plastered with blueprints. Morty loved it. While he wasn't doing all that great in school, he really loved science and everything sci-fi. And this, what Rick had here inside the garage, was like all the books that he had read and all the movies that he had watched coming to life. …well, at least many of these strange inventions looked like they came straight out of a sci-fi novel. Ever since Rick had introduced him to his nerdy hobby, Morty had been promoted from a simple errand boy at school to his personal assistant. Apparently, this was a side of Rick that rarely anyone else go to see of him. And knowing this made Morty feel special. Special in a way that no one else had ever made him feel… His mobile suddenly beeped again and ripped him out of the past. I'm here. Morty swung himself out of his bed and went to his window, opening it. Indeed, Rick stood in the backyard, but he didn't seem to have any sort of invention with him that would help him getting down. This was just confusing and the brunet was about to say something, when the other suddenly threw something small on the ground. The "thing" inflated rapidly and proved to be some kind of airbed. Morty got the feeling that it wasn't actually something of Rick's creation but seemed more likely to be something that he had just picked up along the way. And he doubted its safety. Yet Rick motioned towards the mattress and then tapped on his wrist, indicating his impatience. "I-I-I'm not going to jump on that!" "Shh!!" Rick put his pointer finger in front of his lips, signaling Morty to lower his voice. Then he replied in a whisper-shout, "Keep it down, will ya? Not much point to this if your parents hear you." Morty bit his lip. Of course, he knew that the other was right, but that still didn't mean that he would jump on that small unsafe inflated thing and risk breaking his bones. It wouldn't be the first time that he had broken legs thanks to Rick… "I'm not going to jump on that!" He repeated also in a whispered shout now. "Don't be such a chicken, Morty!" Rick looked a little pissed off, but then he sighed and said, "I'll catch you if you gonna miss. Promise." Morty couldn't believe that he was really reconsidering it now. Just because of what Rick had said. Promised. He trusted Rick even though he knew that it was a bad idea. It was insane. But he trusted him. With a sigh, he gave up and nodded. However, before he found heart – and the guts – to really jump down, he remembered something. "Hold on a second!" He ran to his closet and pulled out a bunch of his clothes, which he then threw on his bed and stuffed under the blanket. Normally, his parents never bothered checking on him. If anything, it was something that only his dad did and that usually when he was really bored – much to Morty's dismay. However, knowing his luck, his parents would actually decide to check up on him tonight when he was out, so he needed a decoy. Critically he looked at the construction that he had built. The lump didn't really look like it could fool anyone into believing that he was laying under the covers and sleeping. But it always worked in the movies, right? So, Morty could only pray that this would work, too – or better yet, that no one would bother coming into his room while he was absent. Morty returned to the window and climbed on the sill. His heart was stuck in his throat as he looked down again. Somehow, it looked higher than it should be. However, there was no time to stall anymore for him because Rick look so impatient that he was sure, he would climb up there and throw Morty out of the window without any concern for his safety or health if he kept waiting even a second longer. Taking one last deep breath, Morty jumped down. The air-filled mattress cushioned most of the impact from his fall, but right after his landing he rolled off. "Ouch." He commented and rubbed one of his legs even though it only hurt a little. "Took you long enough." Rick seethed. Without waiting for an explanation, he went over to the air mattress and lifted it up. "C'mon. Help me with this." Morty got up and together they carried the airbed through the backyard and tried to stuff it behind the small toolshed in order to hide it from sight. It made the brunet actually wonder why Rick didn't just threw it away now, but figured that he was planning something for it later. Then they wandered around the house, crouching low underneath the windows to stay undetected. As they got to the front, they continued down the street for a bit and Morty was tempted to ask if they would be walking when Rick's motorcycle came into view. Obviously, he didn't park it right in front of the Smith house. He might as well could have run around the house with a megaphone, shouting that they're crapping all over Morty's grounding. They both climbed on the vehicle and put on their helmets, but like always when they did this, Morty felt nervous. Rick didn't actually had a license to drive a motorcycle (or any kind of motorized vehicle in fact) and he also wasn't old enough to do it. However, Morty knew that he had a fake license and id, which was why Rick wasn't worried at all. Luckily, Rick seemed to know what he was doing – like most of the time – and hadn't gotten them into any accidents. Yet. Morty wrapped his arms tightly around Rick's middle as the motor came to life. While his grip wasn't as cramped and vice-like as the first time that Rick gave him a lift, he was still a little scared to fall off. And knowing the other, the spiky-haired boy would probably not even stop and come back to pick him up again. …At least it seemed likely that Rick would just continue to drive off without Morty. As they drove through the city, the streets were mostly empty since it was already pretty late. Eventually, they left the outskirts behind.

After a while, Morty asked – shouting over the engine of the bike, "Isn't this far out enough already? How much longer are we going to drive?"

"Just wait, Morty."

Rick didn't pay him any more attention, his focus on the empty, gray street ahead.

Several minutes more in silence passed before Rick steered the vehicle to the side of the street and parked there, seemingly at random.

As both boys got off, Morty took a look at their surroundings. They were in the middle of some forest now.

"Wha-what are we doing here?" He asked confused.

Rick had told him that they would watch the meteor shower, but how were they supposed to see it from here, in the middle of the forest.

"Can't you just shut up for a while, Morty?" Rick replied gruffly. "You'll see."

While something in the brunet's gut told him that it would probably be a bad idea, he followed the boy in the blue t-shirt through a small and dark path that only seemed to lead deeper into the forest.

It was so dark that he barely could see anything in front of him and he occasionally stumbled over a protruding root or something other in the underwood.

Morty had no doubt that if he lost Rick here, he wouldn't be able to find his way back home again. He was completely disoriented and had no idea how the other was even able to navigate through this.

Wherever it was they were going, it was quite a hike though, Morty could tell.

It took quite another while of continually walking uphill until the thicket gave way to a clearing.

There were right at the top of a hill that provided a beautiful view of the fields down below. Morty was even able to faintly see the city lights in the distance from here.

That wasn't the only thing that was perfectly viewable here though.

When Morty looked up into the sky, he was amazed at the sight. It was a clear night and not a single cloud was to be seen.

The stars looked so bright and so close that Morty thought he would be able to touch them if he just reached out. He'd never been able to see this from home because of the light pollution.

It was truly a beautiful sight.

"Come over here, Morty." Rick called out to him and ripped him out of his wonderment.

The blue-haired boy had walked over to a telescope that he must have brought here earlier. Morty joined him and Rick took a look through it before making place for Morty to also take a look.

The sight through the telescope was certainly better from here than from home, too.

"This is the perfect spot for stargazing. I found it a few months ago. It's also super-secluded so we're the only ones here." Rick explained.

"This is really a great a spot, Rick." Morty agreed and turned his attention towards him again.

He wasn't sure if was just mistaking it in the darkness, but he thought that Rick looked embarrassed. "W-well, you're the f-fi-first one who I've brought to this place."

"Really?" The brunet was genuinely surprised. "You haven't even showed B.P. or Squanchy?"

"Nope. Just you, Morty."

That was unusual. Even if Morty knew that Rick didn't let just about anyone see his garage and inventions, he knew that at least Rick's closest friends had also gotten to see it.

If not even those two had been here before, then it was really something. Morty already felt so special that Rick had chosen him to assist him with his personal science projects and that he had invited him to spend his time with him and watch this event together tonight, but knowing that he was the first one that Rick took to this place was some next level shit.

It made Morty feel all warm and his heart was beating a little faster. He was sure that he was probably blushing now and only hoped that it was too dark for Rick to notice.

"It should start any minute now." The spiky-haired boy commented after he checked one of his three watches that he always wore on his arm.

As if on cue, the first shooting star rocketed through the sky. Soon more joined them.

Both boys sat down in the grass and watched the miraculous spectacle.

"Just soak—take it all in, Morty. This is a phenomenon that can only be witnessed every 300 years." Rick commented.

"Wow, Rick. It's amazing!"

Morty could feel Rick's hand suddenly land on his own and he briefly looked over the boy next to him. Rick still looked up into the sky as if he hadn't registered what he had just done and the brunet figured that it might have been unconsciously.

However, Morty did notice that the other looked strangely content right now. Something, which was actually rare for Rick.

Morty ripped himself away from the sight to look back into the sky again, too. The thought of the unusual gesture was soon forgotten even if he could still feel the other's warmth as he was once more mesmerized by the meteor shower.

After the event was over, they made their way back downhill and to the parked motorcycle again. The ride home was a silent one, much like before, but this time Morty felt strangely content as he leaned a little against Rick's back. For some odd reason, he didn't feel as nervous anymore as before. Though, he couldn't figure out why that was. However, as soon as they came to a stop in Morty's neighborhood the jitters were back again. He had almost completely forgotten that he was grounded and shouldn't even be out here right now. If his parents were going to find out that he had actually snuck out of the house there would be hell to pay… "Well, see ya tomorrow, Morty." Rick said after Morty got off. "Wait! Aren't you going to help me get back into my room?" "Nope." Rick replied unbothered. "Can't you do it own your own?" "How am I supposed to do that?" Morty asked back. The spiky-haired boy rolled with his eyes. "You just walk through the front door and up the stairs, duh." He didn't wait for any more retorts and just drove off. "Rick! Wait!" Morty's protests fell on deaf ears and he could only watch how the motorcycle rounded the corner and was out of sight again. Someone tell him again why he was friends with this asshole? With slumped shoulders, he made his way back to his house and not coming up with any better ideas, ventured in through the front door just as Rick had suggested. As soon as he stepped foot inside, the hallway lights flickered on. "And where have you been?" Morty found himself face to face with his angry parents. Needless to say that his decoy obviously hadn't worked and fooled them. Boy, he was in so much trouble now…

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11