#jfc the angst possibilities

[suttttton]

Dreamweaver has SO MUCH good stuff I am so so excited to finish it and share it with y’all hhhhh,,,,,,, 8 days left

[freelancearsonist]

Whole

Steve Harrington x fem!Reader

Rated MA for the most long-winded poetic smut i've ever written jfc 🤦‍♀️ slow burn fluff with a couple sprinkles of angst for flavor, reader uses fem pronouns and is described as having female parts, it's dirty y'all but at least they use protection

7,470 Words

A/N: you all know my mo by now i disappear for a year and then come back and lay down some god damned PORN. this fic is no exception to the rule. @shakespeareanwannabe requested this back in july and she literally just asked for a cute moment between steve and dustin, sorry you got 6k words more than you bargained for 😂 but also thank you for betaing and the constant validation you're the best ily 🖤

Steve’s not sure how it even worked.

He can still remember the look on Robin’s face when you agreed, how she was speechless for almost ten minutes because she couldn’t process what had just happened.

Steve’s reaction was about the same as hers, in all honesty. He’s gotten so used to striking out that asking people out has become something of a game to him. He knows he’ll get a no, and he knows Robin will laugh her ass off at him. But what can he say? He likes putting a smile on his best friend’s face.

Needless to say, you’ve shaken him. In the best possible way. Because your answer was three letters instead of two.

And now, he's a little bit in over his head.

Or, to be more accurate, a lot in over his head.

It seems like it’s been ages since he’s gone on a date, even though it’s only been a few months at most. He feels lost, like he’s completely unlearned everything he ever knew about girls.

He hates it, despises it with every fiber of his own being, but he also knows it’s true; he needs advice. And although he’ll never admit it to the little shithead’s face, there’s no one better he can think of going to than his very own protege. Who better to remind him of his own prowess than the person who learned everything they know from him?

One look at Dustin’s smug little face and Steve almost regrets it. Almost.

“Just can’t stay away, can you?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve rolls his eyes and gives the younger boy a little shove, camouflaging it with an affectionate pat on the back. “This is strictly business, Henderson.”

“Oh, is it now?” The younger boy’s voice takes on a smug tone as he folds his fingers together and leans back in his chair. “Well then, why don’t you have a seat? Step into my office.”

Steve rolls his eyes and slides into the booth, shooting a smile and a “thank you” to the kind waitress who delivers two milkshakes to their table.

Dustin takes his time and makes a meal of unwrapping his straw, feeding off of Steve’s clear impatience Steve’s fingers tap against the table, reminding himself that patience is necessary when you come to someone for a favor. It’s just that it’s Dustin, and Dustin knows exactly how to get under the older boy’s skin in the most annoying-yet-oddly-endearing fashion.

“So…” Dustin finally says after a lengthy sip of strawberry milkshake. “What brings you so humbly to me?”

“I’ve got a date.”

And Dustin, the little bastard–he laughs. A deep, rumbling belly laugh, so pure and unfiltered that the three other occupied tables in the diner pause their conversations to get a look at the boy clutching his sides.

Steve’s a little embarrassed by the attention, but even more embarrassed that Dustin’s reaction is so genuine. The fact that the idea of him having a date is so laughable is a bit of a punch to the gut. It hasn’t really been that long, has it?

When Dustin’s laughter finally dies down he realizes Steve’s face is completely serious, and it makes him giggle even more.

“Wait, you’re actually serious? Who on earth did you manage to pull?”

Steve’s nearly bashful as he says your name, and even more bashful when Dustin’s jaw visibly drops.

“No fucking way. I’d believe anyone else, but her? She’s like… hotter than Phoebe Cates. There’s no way you wouldn’t strike out with her.”

Steve’s immediately on the defensive. Is it really so hard to believe that he, former king of Hawkins High, could pull the most gorgeous girl in town?

But that’s just it. There’s really no one like you, not in his eyes. He’s admired you since freshman year and never once even tried with you because he knew he wasn’t worthy. You were always in the background–a beautiful, kind, smart, funny girl just out of his reach. Part of the reason he even asked you out was because he was so sure he would strike out. In the end, losing his confidence was exactly what he needed to pull the girl of his dreams.

And that’s why there’s so much riding on this. You’ve always been his biggest “what if”, the girl he wonders about when thinking that maybe not trying has been holding him back. And apparently, it has.

“Look, I don’t even know how it happened, okay? But she said yes, and… and I really don’t want to blow it.”

“Well duh. You’ll have to leave town if you blow it with her, you know that, right? If she doesn’t think you’re worth it, no one else in this town ever will again.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of!” Steve groans, slouching down so far in the booth that Dustin can just barely see his poor, overwhelmed face.

“Steve, listen…” Dustin’s voice takes on an almost fatherly quality, an omniscient tone that gives off the illusion of great hidden knowledge. He gets like this sometimes, and Steve’s not always sure that it is just an illusion. “Don’t let this go to your head, but you’re, like, one of the coolest guys I know. If she doesn’t like you… that’s her problem, not yours. Okay?”

Steve straightens in his seat, a little shocked to hear such kind words from a friend that he’s used to being mercilessly teased by.

“No, no, no, it’s going to your head. I take it all back. Forget I said anything.” Dustin’s hearty giggle makes Steve smile as he sets a wad of bills on the table and slides out of the booth.

“You’re not so bad Henderson, you know that?” He gives the younger boy’s full head of curls an affectionate ruffle. “Thanks, kid. I’ll radio later.”

Not that Steve didn’t have total faith in his young protege, but it’s still a relief that the pep talk turned out to be exactly what he needed to hear. Dustin’s right, after all. Steve’s worked hard to become the man he’s always wanted to be. He may not be dripping charisma or sex appeal the way he used to, but he’s much more comfortable in his own skin. That’s what counts, right?

And you really are his dream girl. The opportunity to take you out tonight, even if it ends up being your first and only date together, is an honor. He’s much less focused now on all the ways he could screw up, hyper-fixated on putting the effort in to make this the best night of your life.

That effort comes out in the carefully selected suit jacket he dons over his white button-up, the extra spritz of cologne, the careful touch-up shave to vanquish his five o’clock shadow, the extra ten minutes using the perfect amount of product in his hair so that it stays in place yet is still soft to the touch.

By the time he gets to Enzo’s (half an hour early, mind), he’s practically vibrating with nerves and anticipation. He’s never been much of an overthinker, but he sure is tonight. Is this place too much for the first date? Would you rather do something lowkey, like catch a movie or go for a walk in the park? He has to remind himself a couple of times that you agreed to this, that you wouldn’t have said yes if you weren’t interested in the arrangement.

To say he’s prepared for this is putting it lightly. He’s run through every possible scenario in his mind, gone over conversation starters and questions he wants to ask you over and over again until he knows exactly how he wants to phrase each thing.

And still, nothing could prepare him for when you walk through the door.

He has to physically restrain his jaw from dropping because in the moment he sees you, every well-planned thought and all etiquette is flushed down the proverbial pipes. You’re nothing short of breathtaking in a dress that hugs all the right curves and shows just enough cleavage to have him imagining what else there might be to see. Your hair is pinned back out of your face, eyes framed by just the slightest bit of makeup to make the color of your irises pop. He swears he’s never seen a shade quite like them. It’s like you move in slow motion as you approach him–he sees the entrance of the smoking hot love interest in every romantic comedy, complete with smoke and fireworks, as you move towards the table.

And then some sense of decorum returns to his addled brain, and he quickly shoots up so he can pull out your chair for you like a proper gentleman. He catches just the slightest whiff of your perfume, and he’s a goner. He’s ready to sign his life away to you, to yank his own heart out of his chest to offer to your careful hands.

He has to give his head a shake to compose himself before he goes any further off the deep end. No one’s ever thoroughly shaken him the way you have, and it’s been a matter of thirty seconds. It’s almost intimidating, the effect you have on him.

“You look… incredible,” he fumbles as he takes his seat across from you. “I mean, you always do, but… wow.”

The shy giggle you emit tugs at a heartstring he didn’t even know he had.

“Thank you,” you tell him with a genuine smile. “You clean up very well yourself.”

“I do like to put in some effort every once in a while.” He flashes the most charming smile he can muster, and just like that he’s back. His resolve to impress you is reinforced tenfold. You’ve shaken him, and it’s such an unfamiliar feeling that he’s practically bumbling. He wants to shake you just as badly.

The food’s delicious, and the conversation’s even better. He has a track record for taking out a more–for lack of a better term–bimbo-y type, and that’s definitely not you. You’re smart, you’re witty, but you don’t make him feel like an idiot. He’s so taken with you that he doesn’t even notice that three hours have passed until he looks around the room and notices that every table is now empty and bussed.

The waiter delivers the check, and Steve notices you gnawing on your lip.

“What’s on your mind?” He asks, trying not to be too prying.

“I don’t want this to be over yet.”

Steve smiles. He’s got you; hook, line, and sinker. He’s never been so sure of anything, and that surprises him. He’s used to dates who are easy to read and even easier to take home, and those aren’t the impressions you’ve been giving him. To know that you’re feeling exactly what he’s feeling is a huge confidence boost.

“I don’t either.”

Your hand is so small compared to his. That’s all he can think about as he strolls next to you, his fingers intertwined with yours. He’s always considered hand-holding to be child’s play, it’s never excited him before the way it does in this moment with you.

It’s pitch black in the park and he can hear the overlapping chirping of summer cicadas and grasshoppers, the perfect background noise now that the conversation has died down. It’s less about getting to know each other at this point and more just basking in each other’s presence, prolonging the inevitable because neither one of you can bear to call it a night when it’s been such a good few hours.

You’re shocked, to say the very least. Steve certainly has a reputation, and it’s not for being a romantic. Yet everything tonight has flown in the face of all the rumors you’ve been hearing since junior high. You figured he’d be a fun fling, and probably only one night at that–you’d made your peace with the idea. To find that he’s kind, considerate, funny, and can match your intellect and quick wit… it’s a very pleasant surprise. And that’s what has you out well past a decent hour, giddy over simply holding his hand like you’re a damned school girl all over again.

“I should probably let you go home,” Steve sighs wistfully. He hates to be the one to bring it up, but you’re on your fifth lap around the park and about to circle back to where your car is parked so now seems the best time.

You’re chewing your lip again, a thoughtful habit that makes his heart pound just a little bit harder.

Here’s the thing: you’re really not the bold type. You act confident, sure, but in practice it’s a lot more difficult for you. So no one’s more surprised than you are when you say, “You could come home with me. If you want.”

Steve’s definitely shocked, too. Less shocked at your proposition and more at the fact that he’s tempted to decline. Because no matter how much he’s been running through the back of his mind what you might look like under that gorgeous dress, he doesn’t want this to end there. For the first time in his life, he wants to find more meaning than sex out of a relationship. He doesn’t want to take you home and never see you again. He wants to take you out again, and again, and again, and again after that. He sees a future, for once, that doesn’t look dim and hopeless. That fact alone scares the shit out of him.

He realizes he’s waited way too long to reply and fumbles for an answer. “Of course I want to. I’d be an idiot not to. But…”

You chew that cursed bottom lip of yours again, and Steve has to focus on the obvious cue you’re giving him rather than the fact that he wants to be the next set of teeth around that lip.

He stops in his tracks, gently pulling on your hand to face him so he can take your other hand in his free one. “It’s not a bad but. I mean, I’m going to go home kicking myself for saying no because I really honestly do want to… well, y’know. But… I want to do this right with you. I want to take you out again. I want to get to know you and see where this goes. I can’t… I don’t want this to end tonight.”

He’s eternally grateful for how dark it is as he feels a flush consume his face. He can’t remember a time he’s been so honest and open, especially on a first date; but the look on your face tells him he’s done something right.

“Okay,” you tell him, squeezing his hands in yours. “You… honestly have no clue how nice it is to hear that.”

“Of course,” he continues, “if you just want me for my body, no hard feelings.”

You laugh at that, genuinely laugh, and Steve thinks it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

“No,” you reassure him. “No, I… I wanna see where this goes, too.”

You’re stopped only a few paces from your car, and Steve knows with a twist of his gut that this is the end of the night. It makes his gut turn with disappointment, but also with anticipation of when he’ll see you next. Already, his mind is flooding with ideas of where he can take you and what you’ll do together.

You drop one of his hands so you can walk but keep a tight grip on the other until you get to your driver’s side door, hesitating outside because you’re still not ready for this to be over. It takes every ounce of restraint he has not to kiss you, unsure of if that would be moving too fast.

Thankfully, you make the call yourself. Leaning up on your toes, hands against his chest for balance, you press your lips against his and he has to summon every mite of strength not to moan. No one’s ever tasted so sweet, molded against him so perfectly. His hands drift from your shoulders down your arms, coming to rest on your waist as he pulls you just a little bit closer. It’s a fight of will not to overstep, to break off the kiss before it can become too heated. His mind is spinning by the time you break away. He’s aching for more, and he hopes you are too. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Steve.”

Your sweet voice replays in his mind all night, long after you’ve gotten into your car and driven away, long after he’s returned to his own vehicle and pulled the radio out from under the driver’s seat to check in with Dustin, long after he arrives home and soaks in a cold shower for longer than he probably should. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get your voice out of his head, and he couldn’t be any less upset about it.

He practically counts down the minutes until he sees you again. This time, he has a little less restraint. He greets you with a kiss–a sweet peck and a hand on your waist that leaves you aching for even more.

It’s a movie this time, a chance to enjoy each other’s company on a night you’re both too tired from working to engage in heavy conversation and getting to know each other further.

It starts with sharing popcorn, then holding hands, then somewhere along the way the film is completely forgotten in favor of your lips meeting his. His breath grows heavy as his hands hold your face, committing you to memory while resisting the urge to explore further. Your hands, meanwhile, are firmly on his thighs, gripping tightly to keep yourself steady as you do everything you can to keep yourself from crawling into his lap.

He whispers your name, and your grip on him tightens.

“W-we shouldn’t…” he murmurs, then gives up on the futile attempt at finishing his sentence so that he can pull you even deeper into the kiss as his tongue sweeps across your bottom lip.

It takes everything in him not to moan when your lips eagerly part to accept him.

Needless to say, once the credits start rolling you’re both more than a little hot under the collar.

“Let me buy you dinner,” Steve suggests as he woefully unwinds himself from you. Declining doesn’t even flicker through your mind as a possibility.

It’s not Enzo’s this time, but it doesn’t have to be. He could set a soggy peanut butter and jelly sandwich in front of you at this point and you’d still thank him for it. This time around, you’re not really as interested in the cuisine as you are just simply getting through this meal to what’s next. Because what’s next is all you’ve been thinking about since you walked through the doors the night of that very first date and saw Steve Harrington wearing a blazer for you. It’s a level of effort he’s definitely not known for–in fact, he’s built a reputation for putting in so little effort that it nearly made your jaw drop to see him trying. And it certainly made your heart skip a beat.

But then again, the Steve before you carelessly wolfing down his bacon cheeseburger seems very different from the Steve you knew in high school, even if you didn’t know that iteration as intimately as this one. That one was cool, collected, snarky and pompous and maddeningly desirable.

This Steve, your Steve, is nearly an exact foil. Much less cocky, a little less confident but more self-assured in the ways that actually hold meaning, less worried about what the people around him are observing of him than what you’re observing of him. He seems happier, more carefree, more eager to please others than simply himself. He’s grown so much in such a short amount of time, and you feel proud just for having the honor to witness it. Significantly more proud to be on the receiving end of his affections now that they hold the kind of value you’ve always wished they would.

He looks up and notices you staring at him while lost in thought, a small smile spreading across his lips as your eyes quickly dart away.

“What’s on your mind?” He questions as he licks a stray bit of ketchup from his thumb.

“Just… happy I’m here. With you.” It brings heat to your cheeks to admit it, but you don’t want him to go unappreciated in this moment.

It’s the right thing to say, because his smile grows even wider. “I’m happy too,” he admits. “I… I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while. Could never work up the courage, I guess.”

“Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington was intimidated by me?” You say it with a mock gasp, but your shock is more genuine than you give off. Never in a million years would you have thought that he, the man who could have whoever he wanted, would be worried over you saying no to him. It’s almost comical, especially considering the way you practically threw yourself at him on your first date. Of course then, you had no clue how much he’d developed as a person. You’re almost ashamed of your behavior now, as if you might’ve inadvertently been taking advantage of the new and improved Steve who isn’t just into you for a hookup.

He shrugs, nearly bashful at your teasing. “Never figured I was good enough for you. So I didn’t bother to try.”

You’re genuinely curious now, leaning in a little closer and brushing your fingers against his hand resting atop the diner counter. “What made you change your mind?”

“Honestly? I was so sure you’d say no that I asked just to give Robin a chuckle. She loves watching me get shot down.”

That makes you frown, and he’s quick to backtrack. “I wanted to! I just… I’ve had a bad track record lately. And you’re… you’re you. You’re the last person I should be worthy of.”

His eyes are quick to avert from your gaze, bottom lip tugged between his teeth as he contemplates whether he’s said too much.

“Steve…” you properly grab his hand now in the hopes that it’ll bring his eyes back to you, and it works. “You’re the only person I’ve deemed worthy in a long time, honestly.”

Steve Harrington is scaldingly warm. It’s one of many sensations forcing your mind into overdrive as he lays you delicately across the backseat of his beemer, one hand cushioning the back of your head while simultaneously deepening the already heated kiss and the other balancing his weight to lean over you in the cramped space without completely crushing you.

Your fingers tangle themselves into his soft brown locks, tugging ever-so-slightly as his tongue slips between your parted lips. He’s an eager explorer and you’re more than happy to let him take the lead, to show you all the skill you’ve heard so many whispers about.

You let out an involuntary moan as he wedges himself even closer to you, his body heat soaking through all the layers of clothing between the two of you and warming you all the way to your very bones.

You’re practically aching, ready to beg, and he knows it the second you wrap your legs around his waist in an attempt to get him even closer. If there’s one thing Steve Harrington’s good at, it’s assessing your needs. He pulls away just the slightest bit to adjust his position so he can get closer, wedging a knee between your legs to press right against your core, and it makes you jolt back against the car door at the same time his head hits the roof just a bit too hard.

You both pause for a moment, the reality of your situation hitting you simultaneously, and then you’re laughing. It’s light and edged with unresolved want, but it’s enough to fracture the tension of the moment.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Shouldn’t have gotten so carried away. This isn’t how I want to do this.”

“No?”

“No. You deserve way better than this old beater,” he chuckles, then leans down to kiss you. This kiss is lighter, no longer edged with tension and lust. He kisses you just to kiss you–there’s no end goal to it this time.

“What could be better than a BMW?” You tease lightly, trying to reassure him that you’re less disappointed than you really feel.

“You know. Something romantic. A proper bed, rose petals, maybe a few candles…”

“I don’t need all that,” you try to tell him.

“I think I do,” he admits. And that’s enough to pull you back, to remind you that you need to be patient and grateful that he values you so much as to want to do this whole thing properly. That his affection is something to be cherished, not taken for granted.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean to be pushy.”

“Please don’t apologize.” He hesitates to untangle himself from you, even though he knows he needs to. “I want this just as bad. I just… I need it to be right.”

“As long as I have you, it’ll be right,” you reassure. “I hope you know that.”

He presses his lips to yours again, a slow and passionate kiss that he hopes communicates every bit of adoration he feels for you in this moment.

“It’ll be perfect. I swear,” he vows. You’ve never believed anything more whole-heartedly than you do this promise. 

~~~

“Wait, you’re telling me that you literally had her under you and you stopped?” Robin’s halfway through chewing a mouthful of popcorn and the absolute carnage inside her agape mouth makes Steve give her a light shove.

“It’s not polite to talk with your mouth full, y’know.”

“It’s not polite to blue-ball either!” She shoots back in utter disbelief.

“How do you think I felt? I was this close,” he holds his thumb and index finger barely millimeters apart, “to sealing the deal.”

She just shakes her head. “You, Steve Harrington, are a genuine, bonafide idiot.”

She’s not telling him anything he doesn’t know. It’s been three days since the aborted fling in the backseat of his car, and he’s barely thought of anything else. Especially since you’ve been away from home both of the past nights when he’s called. He’s starting to worry you’ve gotten the wrong impression, that he’s not interested or that he’s toying with you. It’s the exact opposite. He wants nothing more than to know you in the most intimate way he can know you. But he needs it to be flawless. He needs it to be well thought-out and precisely planned, the most romantic event in the history of copulation. He won’t settle for anything less, not with you. You deserve perfection, and he won’t give you anything less.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he tries to explain. “I want to more than anything. But if you’re gonna go to town on a goddess, you need to do some worshiping, y’know? I don’t feel like I’ve done enough.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you hear this admission. You weren’t sure what to expect–worried that maybe visiting him at work was an overstep–but hearing him call you a goddess certainly wasn’t on your radar.

“You’ve done more than enough, Steve.”

The sound of your voice makes Steve jump and whirl around, oblivious to Robin’s sly smirk and mumbled excuse of needing to attend to something in the back room.

“H-hey!” He squeaks, then clears his throat in an attempt to get his tone back to its normal octave. “What… what’re you doing here?”

“Oh, just came to pick up a tape,” you tease. “But mostly I came to see you.”

“Me?” He takes a moment to ground himself, loosening his too-tight grip on the counter. “I mean… I tried to call you last night. And the night before?”

Your brow furrows. “Really? I didn’t get your message.”

Because he didn’t leave one. He clears his throat and says, “I just figured you were busy.”

“Oh, well, I volunteer at the animal shelter on Wednesdays, and last night was my friend’s 21st birthday. I’m sorry I missed you, though.”

He can tell that you’re really remorseful, and it makes his heart squeeze in his chest a little bit. He plays it off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “No, it’s fine, it’s… are you free tonight?”

You giggle at the abrupt redirect, but he’s played directly into your hand.

“Yeah, actually. I was hoping maybe you could help me pick out something for us to watch tonight? If you’re free too, that is.”

His dark eyes blink slowly, wondering if you’re aware of the implication behind your completely innocent words. You. Him. A movie. Alone. It’s enough to make his head spin. 

“I’ve never been freer.”

Conveniently, you’ve come in close enough to the end of his shift that by the time you’re done combing through Family Video’s vast selection for the perfect film to use as background noise, Steve’s ready to clock out. And since you walked over after finishing your own shift at the local dollar store up the street, it works out perfectly that he can give you a ride straight to his place.

You only glance in the backseat once, but it’s enough to get your mind churning. Remembering the feeling of him, of what could’ve been. Anticipating what will be.

“Parents home?” You ask as he pulls into his driveway and parks, trying to sound casual and utterly failing.

“Nope,” he answers easily. “Took a detour to Cabo on their way home from Hawaii.”

“Sounds glamorous. You opted out?”

“I’d rather be here in Hawkins with you than on a beach alone anyday.”

He must know the effect his words have on you. Surely he can hear the way your heart picks up pace as he looks at you with those dark, affectionate eyes.

“So… this is home.” He waves a hand around the entrance hall like it’s a shabby nightmare, not the grandest house you’ve ever been in.

“I’m starting to understand why they used to call you King Steve.”

He’s almost embarrassed at the mention of that old high school nickname. “Trust me, this isn’t why.”

“Well, a palace does befit you,” you tell him with a smirk.

“Stop, you’re gonna make me blush.” The wink he shoots you makes your gut erupt with butterflies, a sensation that would normally make you a little uncomfortable. With Steve, you’d take the butterflies all day long.

He gives you a cursory and oversimplified tour of the ground floor before leading you upstairs, and suddenly he’s sheepish. It’s been a few moons since he shared his room with a girl, so the nerves are justified. But that’s too simple an explanation. You’re not a girl. You’re his dream, his muse, his–to re-quote himself–goddess. No one he’s ever cared about more has stood where you’re standing, and it terrifies him.

He hides it well, though, busying himself with making a comfortable nest for you in his bed before setting up the television set on the dresser against the far wall. If ever there was a time to regain his confidence, it’s now. He curses whatever god there is that he feels like a fumbling virgin in this moment when nothing is even happening, when just the anticipation is enough to make his hands tremble.

There’s no more stalling once you’re comfortable and the tape is set to play. His heart pounds to the steady and frantic rhythm of one of those heavy rock songs Dustin listens to now as he sits next to you, hands itching to take a hold of you but also eager not to move too fast.

Almost as if you can sense his hesitation, you reach over and take his hand. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

And so he does, and the second his lips slot to yours all the worry and anxiety is gone. He’s Steve Harrington, and he knows what he’s doing. You’re you, and he’s wanted this for so long. After years of being lost, he deserves to finally find the love he’s been looking for. He’s never been so sure of anything as he is, in this moment of initial clarity, that he’s in love with you.

He can’t say it, not yet. He’s sure it’s too soon, and the last thing he wants is to scare you off. But he’s determined to prove it to you, and the only way besides words is action.

He can handle action.

There’s no more restraint or hesitation behind his touch. This is it, this is what you’ve both been waiting for. There’s no way in hell he’s not going to deliver now. He’s desperate for you, and it shows in the heavy way his hands drag along your curves whilst committing you to memory; the way his tongue languidly swipes across your bottom lip; the way he shifts effortlessly to hover over you even while deepening the kiss.

He’s overwhelming every single sense of yours in such a sudden fashion, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. Especially not when his hips meet yours in a deliciously slow grind and you finally get your first little taste of what’s to come.

He keens at the little breathless whimpers that leave your mouth, reading every single signal you provide him with and accommodating each. Moaning? He continues what he’s doing, intensifying if deemed necessary. Whining? He adds something, because he knows it’s hard to use your words when you’re wanting so badly. Squirming? He pays attention to the direction of your movement and pulls away or presses closer depending on necessity. It’s down to science for him; he only really cared about extracurriculars in school anyway, and this was certainly his favorite.

But then he comes to his senses–while he doesn’t pull away completely, he needs to clear his mind and he does so by letting up a bit, allowing the kiss to become languid and the heat to extinguish a bit. It only makes you whine more, and Steve curses his damned formula. You shouldn’t be part of an equation. You’re everything he’s ever wanted, and every aspect of your relationship so far has been a new experience for him. He needs this particular activity to be different too. No formulas or calculations. Just you and him and whatever happens naturally.

Clearly you can hear the cogs in his mind turning. You pull away with a concerned look on your face and ask, “what’s on your mind?”

Now’s not the time to hide anything from you, he reasons with himself. He wants to be authentic with you, and part of that means telling the truth, even if it’s not something particularly comfortable.

“I’m… falling into a routine. And I don’t want to,” he admits. He sighs and leans back, one hand dragging through his shaggy and disheveled hair, sure that he’s going to ruin the mood if he carries on like this. But he refuses to back away from the truth now. “This… it’s always been like…. Like a series of checkpoints. Boxes to check, y’know? Kiss you, take your clothes off, make you come, fuck you, say goodnight. And I don’t want… I can’t let it be like that with you. I need this to be… real. Not just some list to cross shit off of. I don’t–”

Steve takes a long, shaky breath before he can ramble on anymore. Never has someone so thoroughly gotten under his skin. He’s never felt so insecure, so unsure. It’s terrifying. The most terrifying part of it all, though, is that he likes it. He loves the feeling of the unfamiliarity, of doing this right. In a way, it’s almost like he’s doing all of this for the first time all over again. You’re his first date, first kiss, first time. All because he’s changed so drastically, because he’s not even remotely the same person he was just a year or two ago.

Your hands are so gentle as you cup his face, tenderly forcing his eyes to meet yours.

“Steve… we don’t have to do this, not if you’re not ready. I want to be with you, not just for this, but for everything. Everything that comes with you… that’s what I want. There’s no pressure. I would wait a hundred years for you to be ready so long as I could still have you.”

Steve’s breath shakes a little as he comprehends the gravity of your words. There’s nothing he can say that can properly convey the gratitude he holds for your words, so he says nothing at all.

In his silence, you continue. “You’re more than a body, you know that, right? You’re funny, and kind, and smart. Yes, smart, don’t look at me like that. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted to be close to. I just… I want to spend time with you. I want to watch stupid movies and eat diner food until we get sick and laugh at your stupid jokes… and maybe make love with you, sure, but that’s pretty low on the list as long as I just get to be with you.”

He doesn’t notice the tears until it’s too late–by the time you’re wiping them from the apples of his cheeks it’s far too late to take them back or hide them. With anyone else, he would be angry; at himself, for allowing himself to be so vulnerable. For allowing himself to be so emotional. With you, though… with you, his emotions make him feel strong. 

For the first time since you walked into his life, he’s not scared of losing you.

“I love you,” he tells you. His voice is firm, as fierce as the kiss he presses to your mouth, as powerful as the waves of emotion vibrating through his very soul. “I love you so much.”

He barely gives you a chance to reply, as keen as he is on physically proving his love to you through myriad passionate kisses that leave you breathless. But when you finally get the chance to use your voice after a barrage of kisses that start to trail down your neck, you whisper, “I love you too.”

Four words, and they’re all he needs to quell every worry or fear he’s had over doing this relationship properly with you. Why should he have to worry, after all, when he’s already succeeded? 

“I love you,” he whispers as he trails down your neck and to your chest, leaving tender love bites on the tops of your breasts once he’s properly liberated you from your shirt.

“I love you,” he mumbles through sucking a mark a few inches north of your navel.

“I love you,” he murmurs when his lips meet your waistband. His fingers make quick work of your pants as he scatters kisses over your stomach, unable to part his mouth from your skin for even a moment.

“I love you,” he affirms as his mouth meets your hot and waiting core.

There’s no more checklist. Because this isn’t simply sex, as it always has been for him in the past. This is love-making: the kind of sappy shit they talk about in all those Hallmark movies that he rolls his eyes at the sight of. It’s like losing his virginity all over again.

He understands the old adage of “the other half” now. You’ve ripped him to shreds and sewed him back together with strands of yourself. The end result is better than the original ever could’ve even dreamed to be. He’s sure he couldn’t possibly live without you now, that losing you would be like ripping out fresh and unhealed stitches.

You’re not sure how long he camps out between your trembling thighs, but it’s long enough for you to lose count of the number of times he pulls you apart–first with his languid tongue; then his long, curved fingers; then a combination of the two. It’s like he loses himself completely in your pleasure, not a single thought in his head except what he can do to bring you to the edge again, and again, and again.

You’re trembling with oversensitivity by the time his own needs overtakes his desperation to unravel you. So out of it that you feel drunk, like Steve’s laced you with absolute bliss so pure you can barely stand it.

You’re hardly present enough to appreciate the adonis before you when he finally undoes his own jeans, and that’s a damned shame because he’s so damned pretty. Long and thick, flushed at the girthy tip from his hitherto unacknowledged arousal. His lean thighs are pure muscle, and the dark thatch of hair that trails south from his navel makes your mouth water. He’s everything you dreamed he’d be and so much more.

“Steve…” You don’t know what else you can possibly say. All you can do is vainly hope that one whine of his name can convey all of the heat, frustration, tension, and above all longing, swirling through your head in the moment.

He breaks from his lustful reverie for a moment to smile as he leans in for another heated kiss; you think it’s safe to say you’ve gotten your point across.

He slows from his mania for a few moments, lips tender as they explore against yours once more. These kisses are languid, slow, yet no less heated. Even now, he’s trying to prove his love to you. As if you could somehow not believe him after everything that’s happened, every small moment you’ve spent with him witnessing how hard he’s trying for you.

Somewhere in between kisses he manages to wrestle a condom out of his nightstand, miraculously without ever breaking from your lips.

Now is where you cut in, finally fading out of your over-pleasured fugue and back to reality. You take the little foil packet from his hands and tear it open, eager for this small chance to finally get a hand or two on him.

He lets out the most gorgeous noise you’ve ever heard as you roll the rubber down his length; a deep, earthy, diaphragmatic moan just from the simple touch of your hand. You want to touch him even more, to wrest out more of those sounds from him; to see what other undiscovered responses you can pull from him as you pleasure him. But you know that now, he needs to set the pace. He believes he has something to prove, and you’re more than happy to let him prove it. There will be plenty of other opportunities to have him completely at your mercy, anyway.

There’s no way to describe the feeling as he slides into you. It’s more than bliss, more than euphoria, more than earth-shattering toe-curling mind-altering pleasure. It’s nothing more than feeling whole. Of never knowing you were missing a part of yourself until it’s suddenly returned to you. Of never knowing what home felt like until this exact moment.

Maybe it’s overdramatic. Maybe it’s outlandish and outrageous and a million other adjectives to feel something so overpowering and overwhelming from such a seemingly simple physical act. But in this moment, you know you’ve never felt anything as right as being connected to Steve in this way.

His lips hardly leave yours while he rolls his hips against you, easily finding the perfect angle to make your breath hitch and your hands scrabble for purpose.

It admittedly doesn’t last long, but it doesn’t have to. Once you start to tighten and pulse around him, he’s a goner–deep purposeful thrusts turning to hard, arrhythmic plunges in desperate search of release.

You’re still shaking from your high when he slowly pulls out of you. He keeps you close, arms linked around your waist and dragging you to lay on his chest as he flops back against the pillows. 

You’re not sure how long you lay like that, with Steve whispering sweet nothings into your hair and pressing absentminded kisses to your face. All you can really focus on is one all-consuming, life-changing fact.

“I love you, Steve Harrington.”

“I love you too,” he whispers back. He kisses you again, just a simple peck on your lips, and you know that he’s telling the truth. It’s an eternal truth: one that can’t be changed or altered in any way. Steve Harrington loves you with every fibre of his being, and he will for the rest of his life–even if you’re both blissfully unaware of it for now.

THE END

Want to see more from me in the future? Follow @freelancearsonist-updates and turn on post notifications to be notified when I post new fics!

Want to support me? Please consider donating to or commissioning me through my Ko-Fi, I would really appreciate it! 💕​

[lightlycareless]

Hi! As a Naoya fan, I really appreciate what you do for us and girl, I just love your works <33

So, Eh, I don't know how to say this... Can you write a fic about him where he has been married to a woman chosen for him by his clan but after so many years, he can't forget y/n? I mean, it's so cliché Ik, but I just can't get it out of my mind. It's like he really loved her and would've even eloped with her but at the end, it was y/n who asked him to go back to his clan since she knew that it was Naoya's fate to be the clan head. So, eventually y/n leaves and Naoya marries his wife and he gets to be the head of Zenin clan and later on, he kinds wishes his wife would give birth to a daughter so he could name her after y/n. Or maybe she does and while everyone expects him to torment the poor wife, he would silently pick up the baby and hug his daughter as if he wishes she was her baby?

so yeah, that's it, thank you anyway.

Hello!!!!!!!!

Omg thank you so much I'm soooo glad you like my work 🥹❤️

HNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGH this ask has been on my mind since it first popped up jfc you know how to torture me.

I have been working on a small fic too with a similar topic, it's not going to be that long as my other work but I think you'll find it enjoyable too hehe. ... if I ever get back to it. heheheh.

ajkghasjgha anyways, let's get right into it.

warnings: angst. mentions/implications of death and unaliving someone :s. naoya is really cruel when referring to his unborn child.

Happy reading!

“If we ever have a daughter, I would like her to be named Naomi”

Is the first thought that crosses Naoya’s mind upon learning that his wife is expecting a daughter.

But beyond that, there is no excitement. No glee in his eye upon learning he’s to become a father in just a matter of months, his seed finally taking root after many dutiful attempts.

“Why?”

“Because it’s a cute name. And I always thought it was adorable how your family named the children after their parents. You are no exception, Naoya.”

He should be happy, right? Glad that his efforts ultimately paid off.

“That’s not too cheesy, is it?”

“…I think I’ll be happy just to have a family with you, regardless of what the baby is named.”

That he was to have the cherished family he always dreamt of having with the love of his life, after so many years of solitude…

Except he wasn’t.

Because his wife, the one carrying his child, wasn’t you.

…

…

…

Ever since he lost you, for a lack of better words, nothing has been the same.

“A daughter… of all the possibilities. Let’s just hope she’s strong.” His father would say, disappointed by the announcement. Naoya remains quiet, uninterested to respond but still deep in thought.

“Do you think they’ll look like you?”

“I hope not.”

“Gee, why not? I know I haven’t seen pictures of you as a baby, but I’m sure you were a cute one!”

Because I want them to look like you.

The sole purpose of his futile life was gone. And with it, any semblance of concern. Care for all that happened around him, or anyone for that matter.

Including his supposed partner, the woman the Zen’in assigned him to marry and continue their legacy. Even when she stood before him, seeking comfort, or at least encouragement after seeing the doctor, to Naoya… she was simply not there.

“Naoya-sama.” She’d call to him once in the privacy of their room, right after the doctor had left. The woman named Taeko, had always been… loyal, meek, submissive. Never one to retort or do anything that wasn’t to please him.

Yet, as much as she had fooled his family, Naoya was still able to see right through her.

Taeko didn’t care about him; no, not at all. The only thing she truly she cared about was the heir. The money that came along with his title, the financial security this meant for her…

More so now that she was pregnant; dictating that even when divorced, she would never have to work a day in her life.

Perhaps if he hadn’t discovered what love was, then maybe he would’ve struggled to discover her true intentions. Unfortunately for them, he had met you, with whom he learned what it was to be happy for once in his life… a teaching that will forever live on within him, naturally making this marriage almost impossible to coexist with.

As well as painful, remembering that this is all he had left of you, besides memories.

Naoya keeps quiet even when his wife calls for him yet again, not bothering to lift his gaze from whatever it was that took his attention, nor requesting her to proceed.

She takes his silence as her cue to continue.

“I know having a daughter wasn’t in the plans, but…” Taeko said, stepping closer to him. Just a few inches away from touching him… “I am still excited to welcome this new stage in our life.”

Of course she is. Her future is firmly set, regardless of his family’s ideals and the baby’s gender.

“I was actually thinking of naming the child after you, to follow your clan’s tradi—”

“You will not do such thing.” Naoya scowls, swiftly turning around and pushing her away, the burning look of his enraged eyes reveals she’s reopened a painful wound she’ll perhaps never comprehend.

Nor care to do so, believing instead that his anger came from her supposed failure to bring a male heir onto the Zen’in clan; and not because of the privilege—no, the right she’s stripping away from you.

Because you are the only one that deserved to be the mother of his children, the one to name them, love them, raise them…

Not this poor excuse of a leech.

“I heard you were having a child… congratulations, Naoya.” Ranta begins, partially unsure on how to approach the future father, or to do so at all… eventually settling to go through with it anyway. An announcement like this must make anyone happy, right? “Although I never expected your first child to be a girl! I mean… I always thought you’d have a bo—”

“This isn’t what I want, and you know that.” Naoya coldly cuts through Ranta’s words, making him flinch. “So, spare me the theatrics.”

Ranta swallows, he is amongst the few, if not the only, who knows the truth, the depths of his relationship with you:

Or your supposed fate.

And how angry he got when he knew the truth… or what he suspected, anyways.

Your disappearance wasn’t a simple coincidence, a misfortune of fate.

It was a necessity for the Zen’in’s plans; you quickly became nothing less than a hindrance once Naoya announced his intentions of marrying you.

They couldn’t permit a woman of your background to become Lady of the House. An unruly, opinionated girl that went against every single one of their beliefs. Nor could they allow you to free Naoya from their grasp.

And so, they did what was necessary. Get rid of their obstacle, call it a simple disappearance, cold feet as others assured, and let everything fall back into place.

Leaving Naoya behind with his cruel family, yet again.

But they’d never admit it. They would just say that your family decided to search for better opportunities elsewhere, you tagging along.

Yet, the body of an unidentified woman found in the middle of a forest near your home would indicate—

“—What are you going to do?” Ranta asks.

“There’s nothing for me to do.” Naoya frowns. “The only person I ever loved, the one person I should’ve never let go… is gone, and now, I’m stuck in this nightmare, alongside a woman that wants nothing from me but my money. Just like everyone always is.”

Ranta wishes to deny his accusations, but he couldn’t bring himself to lie to his grieving friend. It would insult him, and you.

“…But…”

“But what?” Naoya retorted.

“…Well, you should at least… consider the baby. They—they shouldn’t be held accountable for what their mother has—”

“Don’t even dare call that thing my child.” He coldly declares. “It may have my name, but that thing is not mine. What assurance do I have that it is? She could’ve easily bedded anyone to get the job done!”

“Naoya! You— you shouldn’t say that!”

“Can you prove the contrary?”

“No—but it’s not right to make these assumptions either!”

“Then what do you suggest, dear friend of mine?”

“I… I think you—"

Have to let her go.

It becomes clear to Ranta how gravely he had underestimated the wound your absence had inflicted on Naoya’s heart—but perhaps he never wanted to admit such thing, for it would only remind his friend of what he once had and now lost forever.

But no matter how much he wished to act the fool, there was no hiding his heightened destructive tendencies, his aggravating isolation, which he already did with people he didn’t like, rising tensions between members alike, forcing them to steer clear of Naoya if they wished to live another day; or pester his father about the misbehavior of his son, forcing him to burden his wife with duties of cheering him up, or something if she wished to stay at the estate—

All for naught, for she had effectively ceased to exist the moment she announced her pregnancy. For the following 9 months, Naoya wouldn’t look her in the eye, even when sleeping in the same bed. Not that there were many opportunities to do so, for he eventually confined himself to whatever other room was available, officially dictating their marriage as unsalvageable.

Some took it as a reflection of his disappointment, a rightful reaction to have towards a female successor.

But Ranta knew better. Those close to him knew the truth.

He was openly reproaching his wife for having taken your place.

So naturally, he wasn’t there when Taeko went into labor. He wasn’t attentive to her calls, desperate pleads of companionship and support—he simply walked past her cries as she gave birth to his child and headed straight into the training grounds, just what he had exuberantly done these past few months to distract himself.

Yet, as much as he wished to run away from his reality, he wouldn’t be able to escape his duties, forced by relatives alike to go and meet the mother of his daughter to officially recognize her. Regardless of the brewing animosity between the two, if there were no other suitable candidates, this baby was still to be the future of the Zen’in, and thus, necessary to name.

Naoya doesn’t bother to wonder on who’d the child would look like the most, still, he knows he’ll hate it even more if she ends up a carbon copy of her mother—would it even matter if she took more after him instead?

Nonetheless, curiosity manages to get the best of him when entering the room where his wife and child awaited, walking past the midwives and straight to his so-called partner, leaning close to the small bundle wrapped in a white blanket, making up his mind in effectively cutting her out of his life if she ends up looking like Taeko.

But when he begins to get a glimpse of her small face…

The most unexpected happens.

As if the child knew her father was near, she slowly opens her eyes, revealing a golden gaze that reinstates her relationship to him—followed by a small patch of his black hair on top of her head, the shape of his eyes…

But most importantly, the words you once confided to him during the intimacy of the night.

“I want them to have your eyes. Your nose. Your hair. Your smile. I want the world to see all the things I love from you through our children.”

As well as your burning desire to have children that looked just like him, even when he hoped otherwise.

He doesn’t know what it was. Certainly not the excitement of having a life permanently intertwined with a woman he didn’t love; but something about your memory, how much you desired this moment, the innocence that engulfed such child, one that he only thought possible through you, his features shown through her, and how vulnerable she felt once in his arms…

Naoya found it unnecessary to wonder what kind of reaction you would have, still, he liked to imagine the brightness in your face, the love in your eyes, the grin on your lips: to be overjoyed to finally have a family with him, eagerly waiting to live out the future that waited for the three.

If this is the way you’d continue to live on, then he’d honor such memory; one last insult to the family that had continuously hurt him over and over again, through merits they would never wipe away, no matter how much they’d try—

“The name, for the child.” The midwife asks, moving closer to Naoya.

Under his own conditions.

“Y/N— Y/N Zen’in.” Naoya declares, softly looking down onto the child. “That will be her name.”

“Wh—What!?” The mother gasps, quickly understanding the implications behind his selection, followed by a futile attempt to make him reconsider, stop him from removing her existence!

But he had long erased her from his consideration, declaring that she was to have no relationship with the child, opting to raise her himself, his sole successor; Taeko would have whatever she needed to live a comfortable life, but that was it.

Naoya would give his daughter all that she needed to strive as a sorcerer, or whatever else she’d decide to pursue.

He’d swore to love her and raise her, protect her from the cruelties of this world, do all in his power to make her happy… but most importantly:

Treat her as if she had been yours.

Essentially, dunno if I managed to convey that, yes; you were killed. an act that scared your family away and left Naoya without knowing what ever happened.

Also, I'm debating whether to write a small epilogue hehe. I have written a bit extra after this but decided to cut it out.

AND OF COURSE the name... originally I was going to name his wife Kayako but I've decided to take advantage of the animosity we feel against the name Taeko and there you have it :))) 🖕 bye Taeko.

Ngl this was sad for me to write; I always hated/enjoyed the topic of Naoya marrying off someone else because of reasons, though it was clear he always longed for you and viceversa. Or not. I just like angst 😭 and fortunately, this isn't the last time we're going to see something like this :) I do have something I'm working on, I just gotta connect the dots. I intend it to be quite short anyways.

Anyhow, thank you so much for sending in this ask!!! 😭 it was such a treat to torture myself with.

Take care, and hope to see you soon!!! ❤️❤️

[wwaheoh]

"Celebrity Worship" Robin x gnReader, SFW(?), Angst

a/n: contains blood, stabbing, and themes of possesiveness. jfc it was so hard to find a png pic of robin and not a webp pic its like the new fake transparent shit

Dating a celebrity was hard. Worrying about the paparazzi, time restraints, not being able to go out in public without security, overprotective brothers- though that could just be this specific case, rabid fans, the list goes on. Knowing this, you still accepted Robin’s feelings. It was great, she was the most wonderful person, spending time with her was never dull, and you accepted all of her. The problem was, everyone else.

You would be with her on a walk from a nice dinner when a news reporter would exclaim, “Robin!”, leading the vultures known as paparazzi to immediately circle in from out of the woodwork. Flashes of lights and yells blinding overriding your senses.

Days where you were at your shared home, you’d see fans of Robin loitering around. All for the sake of seeing their precious idol.

On social media, people would talk about how they wished for you two to break up or that you’d somehow die. Stating how you weren’t enough for the superstar and how you were undeserving. Even going so far as to send death threats in your comments or private messages. You always blocked them and tried to pay it no heed. Never telling Robin about what happened, knowing she’d take it strongly.

She loved you, and you her.

-

Robin was hosting an event, a new expansion of the Clockie amusement park opening up and she was there to present its grand opening- as well as go on some rides and get some exclusive merch. You were behind the scenes, standing farther away and watching her do her thing.

Steps unheard behind you, a sharp pain ringing through your lower abdomen as someone shouted at you, spit landing on your face as they screeched at you. “You don’t deserve her!” Warmth trickled down as they pushed you down to the ground, another sharp pain bloomed before they were tackled by security.

You lay there, as blood trickled out of you into the puddle forming underneath. You could hear Robin screaming, having abandoned the stage and run over to your side, crying for medical support.

“No, no, please don’t leave me!”

The darkness called as your eyelids grew heavy, seeing Robin being pulled back by paramedics.

-

Several days in the ICU, the sterile smell, heart monitor, and a sobbing Robin by your bedside were your companions. There were times where Robin would have to leave, commitments already signed off on and statements to give to the press. Surgery was required but had gone off without a hitch, Robin made sure you’d gotten the best treatment possible.

There was the question of how the fan had passed security and been able to attack you. With this being a known issue, you’d think they’d have been on high alert…

One day, Robin came, with you having asked her to come so you could discuss something with her. Today was your final day, only a few more check-ups and you’d be free to go.

She arrived, a few minutes earlier than planned. The bright- if tired smile, on her face.

Setting her bag down, she walked over to your bedside. “Today’s the day you’re going to be discharged! I’m so happy you’re okay.” There was a pause, expecting you to respond. When you didn’t, she continued, “Did you want to go out and eat? I could make reservations!”

“Robin.”

“Mhm?”

“I think we should take a break…”

“H-huh? What do you mean?”

“From us… we should take a break from us.”

Over the days you spent thinking while in admittance, you realized that you weren’t cut to date a celebrity. Robin wasn’t the issue, she was kind, beautiful, inside and out. Someone who worked hard for what she wanted, genuine, with a fire in her soul. But to date a celebrity would be to be put under a microscope, millions of people wanted to be in your position, and some were crazy enough to think that they did the right thing by attacking you, both over the internet and… in person.

“You- you don’t mean that!”

Robin’s voice rose, tears streaming across her face as she moved closer.

You already regretted this. But you couldn’t do this, not with having been attacked for the sole reason of dating someone. Not right now at least.

“Please!”

You wanted to hug her, but the phantom pain in your abdomen rang throughout your body.

“Please…”

“Only for a couple months… it’s not you. Just.. I need to… recuperate.”

Robin didn’t want to keep you, but she also didn’t want you to leave. But the dove with freedom, in her eyes, was better than the dove locked in a cage.

With a hoarse voice, “Oh- okay. Just… call me, when you’re ready. I love you…”

She stood up, every step was as if she were wearing lead boots. She didn’t want to keep you but she also didn’t want you to leave. The free dove was better than being caged. She wanted you to be free, but she also wanted you to be with her. Sunday had always talked about how caging a bird was better, better to be alive than dead, no matter the cost. His words all those years ago echoed in her mind as she made her way to the door.

“I love you too.”

Your voice broke through her spiral.

Only a couple months, and you’d be back. You survived, you just needed some time.

She looked back at you, nodding with a soft smile before leaving.

[the-moon-files]

Waaaa, I LOVE your writing for Linked Universe! >w< I've never thought about the trope of humans as space orcs, but I love it now djfngd- If you don't mind me asking, is there anything that the reader might be weak to (comedic or otherwise)? Or is he basically indestructible/immune to a lot of things?

sorry for late reply!! ;-; thank u sm for saying that abt my writing, and yess yesss my humans v hylians au agenda is spreading lets gooo!!!

(bro u know ur desperate for gifs when ur making ur own atp jfc 💀)

Sun: Guide!Reader, Masc Male Reader (he/him)

Orbit: LONG AS HELL Headcanons-ish, Humans are not hylians AU

Stars: Classic Chain of Links, not specific

Comets & Meteors: CWs: mild cussing, typical Loz violence, weight is mentioned as a weakness/detriment,

& TWs: Possible weight trigger, reader is described as heavy and weight has a negative impact on environment, but in a way thats meant to convey they "weigh more" bc theyre human in comparison to hylians/hylian built things ( for ex: hylians are hollow boned compared to humans).

Please stop reading at line "alright thats all for sleeping for rn, i could keep going but i wanna get to weight issue a little bit even tho ive got less for it" if you want to avoid explicit details of this.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

☆

so I could see this being both crack and angst fuel tbh

ive talked abt this somewhat on other posts/asks, but figured i could really get into all the potential weaknesses over here since ive gotten a lot of ideas abt it!

so a quick list of things ive thought of that could be weaknesses, both based on like, if this were a “video game to real world” format for us, coming from earth, and other junk ill explain

in no particular order, some weakness ideas ive had (or other anons tbh!):

weight, much heavier than Links/avg hylian (sink to bottom when swimming/cant ride their horses/cant be carried out when hurt/sick/etc.)

slow healing when u do get injured, compared to quick healing hylians who can just eat food to get better quicker

magic absorption (too much juice, body not accustomed, get sick, like eating too much magic food/using too much of magic tools/weapons)

or magic negation (cant get healed by magic, for ex: if a dragon is all magic, then u cant ride it, or if food is magical u cant eat it)

easy to get sick (new environment/ppl/area/etc.)

fall damage (tho greater height) is still applicable

hylians dont have the same pack-bonding/affection/social needs as humans, like how Wild + most Links could do their whole adventure by themselves, rarely talking to anyone, if you’ve ever seen the survival show “Alone”, one of the first things that get them to quit isnt the terrain/little food (tho thats usually next), its the fact they get lonely and miss their spouses/family/friends, sad af, youd have to assault the links for attention and hope ur not annoying the fuck outta them all the time 😭😭

stamina, ur stuck w/whatever u had before getting whisked away (for example: u just have to hope ur immune to guardian beams bc u may not be able to outrun one 💀, or just bc u can swim against the tide doesnt mean u can do so for very long, depending on ur stamnia)

not rlly a weakness, but u having a different perception of what’s “too little” clothing compared to the medieval time period hylians lmao

needing more sleep than hylians, from how in game they either outright dont need sleep, can go with only a few hours and fight Ganon, or other nonsense around sleeping, ACTUALLY also hylians being able to sleep anywhere in any position, whereas u need a good 8-9 hours every night to function normally (u cant rlly take shifts at night w/o getting fucked) and u also need a half-decent sleeping bag/not hardass ground to sleep on w/o getting morning dew soaking u thru (ive been on many misadventures camping, so i could rlly get into it when it comes to wilderness camping yall, like im not high maintenance but there are def some bare minimum things u need to function in the wild, trust me guys, its a thing/pet peeve of mine to get into how a 10 person constant camping trip would acc function 💀)

if you’ve got any other ideas, pls comment them or shoot an ask my way! these were all i could think of for rn

so im just gonna pick the ones ive expanded the least on in other posts, like the sleeping thing, weight thing, and im abt to do another ask (🥺<33) abt the human culture v hylian thing so thatll do for now

SO to continue the rlly long sleep weakness (srry)

to my credit, ive been tent camping pretty frequent in past couple years, with either my sibling, or sib and a friend, in the ruralness of our homestate (we’re in southern part of US)

like as a quick rundown of my creditable-ness, bc im sure ur like “moon. nobody cares what u have to say, ur prob chronically online bro” nah, dude, read this bs:

U can skip this if u just trust me, this is just a mildly entertaining lore dump of mine for proof i know anything at all abt tent camping:

for ref, ive: slept all night in a hammock w/a sheet bc the air mattress deflated/was sleeping on the ground otherwise which is borderline impossible to do even when exhausted ive found out, a lightning storm rolled in, i just kept sleeping, had to pack up tent in middle of the night bc it slowly got flooded bc rain got into tent, had to park on a random overgrown country road (no GPS) to car-camp for the night bc no campsite was found, have had to constantly put up tent in complete darkness bc its very hard to get my sibling and me to a campsite when theres still daylight for some reason?? lol, began to worry for hypothermia when we camped near mountains bc it got too cold to tent camp, had to intensely cuddle for warmth w/friend in truck bed, while sib was inside the car and still couldnt get warm, and it was so cold even then that it kept waking us up until we left at like 4-5am bc it got light enough for us to see to drive away 💀

ANYWAY, now that ive gotten my obligatory “i touch grass” out of the way,

(and also i def plan to use these experiences as future fic scenes, so easter egg if u read this then my fics later lmao)

sleeping is literally the first issue u gotta deal w/in going constant camping w/these guys lmao

and u bet ur ass they all find it kinda funny that u need such specific sleeping stuff when ur nigh indestructible the rest of the time

but its honest to god not even that much, it just is for hylians

so they can just sleep on rocks, flat ground, tree roots, u name it these crazy elves can do it, esp since the Links r adventurers so im sure theyre better at it than normal hylians

they dont need a tent, they barely need sleeping bags, bc the cold hard ground is legit their home 💀

the only reason they have padding at all is bc theyre more sensitive to temperature than u, so theyre more bundled up on breezy nights/for morning dew chill time

(which u found to ur horror they just dont put anything down but like a sheet when its warm weather, mostly for keeping dirt off them)

meanwhile ur like?? get a tent??? we have Wild’s slate to store it we dont even have to carry it????

and bc theyre made for hylians, the tents just like a ceiling w/poles 💀

ur out here like, “bro this would keep u more warm if there were yknow, walls. and a floor.”

which u then have to force the combined skills of Legend, Wild and Four to help u make a real tent

Legend has absolutely taken to calling you Sleeping Beauty/Princey bc of this, and the fact that u have to layer like 2 sleeping bags to not feel rocks on ur back (bc they only need it for warmth not cushioning, its thinner than human made ones)

u also have to force Time + Wars to acknowledge that u guys needs to put the tent on flat ground, and cant just sprawl out over a bunch of tree roots goddamit-

when u first learn what the watch schedule is, it sounds like actual hell.

each shift is like 4 hours, and everyone is awake and ready to go at like 5 or 6 am (the 6am is for teh Links that “sleep in” 💀)

and thats putting them at going to sleep at like 11 or midnight, bc hylians need way less sleep than ur human ass,

which the poor said hylians also find out the hard way when they go to wake the single human man on their team up, and u just outright cuss them out, hit the nearest link, rain hell on them + seem like ur drunk to them?? then just go back to sleep???

and theyre all like “wtf just happened to our guide, he’s usually so nice??”

only to realize after u all have a sit down abt the sleeping differences issues, after what theyre calling “The Sleeping Guide Incident” 💀

hylians snap awake only a few minutes after being awake (like how in SS/Oot/Botw etc u can be a little sleepy but game mechanics let u get up pretty quick)

and u need more sleep, so they just adjust and know now u need whatever u can get tbh, so ur not allowed to go on night shifts,

along w/being allowed to ride on Epona + get piggy back sleep on a Link if they rlly need to move and u havent gotten all ur required sleep yet

(tho u do try and compensate by going to sleep earlier)

(they would never tell u but, they lowkey fight/rock paper scissors who gets to carry u in the morning, Wind is the ref lol)

also hylians can sleep like a rock thru most anything, along w/this adventure which easily keeps u tired so ur ready to knock out every night,

this is why its important for someone to take watch, bc i think unless they outright get hit by a monster/shaken by another hylian, most links dont get up when sleeping no matter what

which makes sense, if theyre going to sleep so little, they prob need as much uninterrupted sleep as possible,

but just bc they can sleep thru lynel stomping doesnt mean u can, which is another adjustement they make when they choose a place to sleep at night, making sure its not a loud spot or smth, and bc u now have to sleep earlier to keep up w/their early ass times,

when the Links are all chilling around camp, they make sure to keep pretty quiet so u can sleep well <3

alright thats all for sleeping for rn, i could keep going but i wanna get to weight issue a little bit even tho ive got less for it

i mentioned it in other posts that hylians are lighter than humans, but i mostly focused on it going one way if that makes sense? like now im taking it in the way of like Humans are heavier than hylians, if that makes more sense??

u cant ride horses, at least not for very long lmao

same goes for loftwings, if u can even get on for any amount of time, bc they presumably have hollow bones so theyd be even more sensitive to ur weight than horses

omg when it comes to puzzles, and theres like weights involved, u absolutely get used as an additional weight, both bad and good tbh

bc im familiar w/botw im using it as a base, but like how shrines need a metal box or two to put on buttons to weigh them down, but it gets tricky, or u dont have one right away, Wild just uses you 💀

like u need some exact amount of metal things for this one scale puzzle, and instead u just, sit on it to sink it all the way down so the Link on the other side can reach the platform LMAO

omg the amount of battles that could just be won bc u used ur body weight against a monster lol

THE SCENE OF U AND A HINOX SQUARING UP TO LIKE SUMO WRESTLE AND U WIN W/UR WEIGHT LMAOO

just run at a lynel, dodging arrows, and just like, successfully full-body tackle it bc it feels like it has the same weight as a large dog, like a husky or smth 💀

u act like a bomb when u throw urself off cliffs bc u dont get fall damage easy, so u can manage like a ten-story building drop u found out w/o a scratch, but u cause a crater around u bc of ur impact lmao

Wild/Wind/Rulie/Legend are all having the time of their lives having u cannonball into the ground next to monster camps bc ur just a human bomb atp

kno this was less weakness focused but heres one more rough weakness of it,

u all have to be VERY careful around bridges or thin strips of land, or like crossing tree branches, etc. w/you bc ur weight may make it not possible cross w/o ridiculously being this single human person bringing an entire bridge down 💀

think the only way u could fix this glaring issue is if u outright jumped across, which even tho ur basically superpowered bc ur so strong here so youd have to fuck up pretty bad to not make it,

poor boys get worried sick anyway and try to avoid bridges if they can, they only trust ones that are like stone built up from the ground to carry you

this also sucks when its like a rope bridge across like a huge gap or like a small valley or smth, bc not only do u not have a landing spot in the immediate area, but now u have to reroute until u can find a spot that lets u basically jump across the gap lmao

on one hand, the Chain r still anxious letting u go alone to sometimes find that different route, but also if anyone went w/u youd just have to piggyback them while doing that, and its not like theyd be that helpful besides moral support maybe lmao

but u dont mind that and none of them can stand being seperated from u w/o knowing at least one Link is w/u, so u usually go ahead and piggyback Wind or Four (one of the lightest) find a route and leap ur way to the other side lol

u also found out the hard way that ur weight affects hylian made buildings, bc they can be made out of not as dense/strong woods, like especially things like floors/beds/chairs/etc stuff that would be made to take hylian weight

the absolute insanity the first time u guys went to an inn, and u crushed both the steps leading into the inn, a barstool, a chair, and later that night ur bedframe just from gently laying on it 💀

the innkeeper realized and re-arranged so u guys were on first floor so u wouldnt have to go up steps, and was luckily very understanding abt u being a different weightier race (Time and you still tipped him rupees to help pay for damage 😭)

u had to literally go back outside to sleep bc u were worried if u slept on the floor it slowly break overnight LMAO

but Wind/Wild/Four/Rulie/Twi were all sweet enough to come w/you to sleep outside too lol (they were more nature inclined anyway, even tho u insisted they take advantage of the beds)

this was also absolutely hilarious for the others to wake up to in the morning, bc Time/Wars/Sky/Legend had already gone to bed,

so they just walk out the inn, all confused why the innkeeper just pointed outside when they asked where the others went, and they jsut open the front door (w/still broken steps bc u had to exit 💀)

to see u guys camped out on the lawn ASHFDFL

☆

😃. well that got out of hand, and its getting late for me so I may have 10x the amount of spelling/grammar mistakes more than usual, and it may have completely lost the plot in some points so-!

i hope that was smth for u to at least chew on anon, and sorry i overdid it jfccc

have a great rest of ur week anon, and tysm for the ask!! :D

comments/commentary in tags/feeback at all keep me alive, so pls leave one w/whatever u think!!

Peace out,

🌙

[a-5-m-0-d-3-u-5]

Compartmentalizing here because if it's in a note on my phone, it's gone and I wanna share my ideas

Zombie apocalypse scenario because that's how I got fuckin neck deep in this cod stuff to begin with and there aren't enough for male/gn readers or aren't super depressing (angst is fun but I'm a hurt comfort man)

Posting that price one shot I already wrote

Fulfilling a request (technically two but they're very similar so I may lump them into one? TBD)

Got a ghost thing I've got kinda scribbled out in a doc

Polyam ghoap where one if them is kidnapped instead of you (I know I said Johnny in my little blurb but also the antsy possibilities of ghost being napped instead is making me go wild)

More polyam stuff in general cuz four pretty boys all snuggling me and each other? Yeah

That price x loyal dog fic I wanna write. May very possibly make it a hybrid au thing cuz I see a lot of those but I make absolutely no promises on that exact detail happening lol

Also no promises but I do wanna continue my castlevania fic at some point. It's one of the most fun things I've ever written and I miss it

Edit: also royal au stuff too because ugh prince x knight forbidden/hidden love type stuff absolutely destroys me

I think that's it jfc writing brainworms really just go hog wild when you allow yourself to indulge huh

[ripplestitchskein]

Sorry for yet another, “Listen guys, it could be so much worse, my fandom related trauma has made me appreciate scraps. My personal bar is literally on the floor” posts but I am genuinely happy with the MHA ending. I get why people are not though. Audiences want finality. They want commitment. They want closure and resolution.

But considering the genre of MHA, the common tropes of the medium, the cultural and capitalistic concerns at play… MHA did a lot. Shonen Jump was never going to go for a canonically queer ship in their biggest property my guys, they just weren’t. So bearing that in mind, that it was never going to be explicit, your alternatives are ambiguity, punishment by the narrative via permanent character death, or canon surprise heterosexuality ala Naruto.

I’m gonna take ambiguous “fic can make this better” endings over permanent character death or like a Deathly Hallows epilogue any day. I’m certainly going to take it over “Yeah they were hella gay the whole time but here is the wife they barely had any interaction with and their 2.5 children that prove they fucked at least once.” Like yeah obviously explicit canon scenes are always gonna be better and more satisfying but the absence of them in any one direction, the ambiguity that is left to individual interpretation, especially in this genre of manga, is honestly a huge win for me personally. That HK went out of his way to not canonize Izuku/Ochako and to highlight Bakugou’s contribution especially and have him be the hand that brings Deku back to being a hero speaks very loudly. HK is not unaware of the popularity of the ship and a creator who has thier hands tied by thier distributor making the decision to not explicitly kill it IS a win. He could have very easily done the “I assure you this fruity little gremlin is straight. Look at his girlfriend! She has huge tits! Yes he sure does love women! Yessiree, ignore all the homoerotic subtext and the like yearning and weird focus on hands, and like being willing to literally die for his also very straight counterpart.”

The move when a content distributor wants to squash a ship is doubling down not “What if we left it kinda vague but heavily implied it?”

And it is such a good ambiguity. Enough detail to world build but not to preclude headcanons. And the fic possibilities jfc.

Like, the angst potential of Izuku thinking he got left behind because Bakugou and everyone else was working to make his dreams a reality will launch a thousand fics. Bakugou working tirelessly to make that dream a reality? Keeping himself away from Izuku to raise himself in the ranks and financially to buy this dream, no distractions but missing his partner. You can feast for years on an 8 year jump with patchy communication. and what comes after, the awkward relearning each other and catching up, the will they won’t they now that they are working together again. Omg.

I’m just saying the “And everyone did a cool thing related to their character arcs but the specifics of their interpersonal relationships is up to you to fill in, The End” finale is loads better than the alternatives imo and really suited the story overall.

[fancyfade]

Also sorry i got bit with the "be a bitch " bug tonight

But anyway I feel batman era dick is often softened way too much in fandom in general with interactions with damian, especially in comparison to how fandom treats damians parents, ESPECIALLY especially in comparison to how fandom treats talia

But like. For a general damians parents thing I know I've seen a Fanwork that was trying to compare mean old Bruce ignoring or putting pressure on an injured dick to good dick being present and comforting to an injured damian... when the latter is LITERALLY not true for dick bats its like he makes sure damian isn't dying then fucks off on whatever mission. Or to resurrect a zombie Bruce.

Or like. You're reading damian fanfic and suddenly talia is portrayed as EVEN WORSE THAN IN CANON and damian got like physically beaten for punishment or we in the league or subject to extremely painful training rituals just so dick can comfort damian.

Like jfc guys let damian have positive interactions with his parents. You want to grab the worst writing for Bruce as possible to maximize batboy angst? Fine but at least let him have positive interactions with talia

[taldigi]

How many Felixes are there in the Lady Bug universe?! What is the difference between Felix Agreste from Lady Bug PV and Felix Sphinx? did they have different characters and personalities? How are they different and how are they similar? Was Felix always a morally gray character (anti-hero/anti-villain) or is there still a version where he was an antagonist, sociopath or Marinette's arch rival?

LOl ok slow down.

Maybe in mini-menace there might have been a rivalry. Chat is only present in one cover, and another cover where he is implied to be hunting ladybug via the black cat and ladybug.

However, My favorite idea is that chat noir may be the detective investigating Ladybug for her vigilantism and/or involvement in the gang involved in the murder of her parents.

Since then, Chat noir was always designed to be her partner.

even if that "partnership" is less than ideal on Marinette's (Or Nathan, as I like to call this version of Chat) part. This dynamic was phased out pretty quickly, about the end of the QK phase of development.

There is no "Felix Agreste" the PV "Felix" is actually Adrien Nanty. (Felix Nanty, if you want to stick the felix name.) His father was actually a hotel baron (think chloe's dad sans the mayorship) and his mother was present and doting, especially due to his disability. (That whole narrative is really ableist and deserves its own breakdown) And he's actually quite sweet, as depicted in a ton of the bibles as thinking fondly of Marinette and turning to her for advice quite frequently. He's also depicted as wanting to be a doctor, so he funnels all his free time into studying. (Which is most likely what he was doing in the library during PV)

Not to say that his name was never "Felix", because it was. But by the time PV rolled around, his name had been changed to Adrien.

Felix Sphinx is the idea that If Adrien -> Gabriel, than Felix -> Richard. And Richard Sphinx -> Felix Sphinx. He's an interesting villain who fills that shitty father role way better than Gabriel. (who was actually really pompous and silly in his first incarnation after they phased out Richard)

How many Felixes are there in the Lady Bug universe?

One at a time. Be it Nathan, Adrien, or Felix himself. The character went through tons of development. Felix Fathom is not a "Felix" because he is not Chat Noir. He is a new character, original to the series like Kagami and Luka.

What is the difference between Felix Agreste from Lady Bug PV and Felix Sphinx?

Agreste's dad is Gabriel, Sphinx' Dad is Richard Sphinx. PV Felix' parents are not shown, but it is most likely he is Adrien Nanty, who's parents are alive, not evil, and own a hotel. However, since the identity of Papillon is kept a mystery in all media (including Canon for a time) it is possible that pv Felix is Sphinx. But the characters are similar enough that it could be interchangeable. Who knows.

did they have different characters and personalities? How are they different and how are they similar?

Yes. But not in the way you think. Nanty and Sphinx liked Marinette. Nathan found her annoying. Adrien did not have an opinion on her for a long time- (esp if we are to base it all on episode 1/introducing the characters, Adrien was indifferent and distant)

Was Felix always a morally gray character (anti-hero/anti-villain) or is there still a version where he was an antagonist, sociopath or Marinette's arch rival?

Err... Morally grey, maybe in QK stuff and canon. Where he aims for ladybugs affection instead of being a hero. Antagonist maybe in Mini Menace. But sociopath? Canon maybe. Adrien frequently throws tantrums and threatens people, is viciously jealous, and has threatened and blackmailed plagg at least three times (remember kuro neko where feeling left out > his relationship with Plagg) but, again, PV era Felix/Adrien isn't an asshole or a jerk. He just has teenage angst and suffers from the twilight sparkle disease of "stop studying, make some friends, and touch grass" jfc.

Look, I know people are super ride or die on "cursed ring needs a kiss" stuff but there is more evidence to the contrary. The artbook is a great resource, but it was made by another company, and the curse is never mentioned anywhere else. I don't doubt that there was a phase where they did consider it, but it vanished so quickly that it was mentioned only once and then disappeared. Yet nobody uses other details like.. him wanting to be a doctor... Or his boxing... Or him being super into art... Or even his love of BMX. Yeah.

Anyway. Hope this helps.

[just-a-carrot]

Something that will always stick with me is just how hard Arc 1 ending + it’s cutscene fucking hit on the first time experience. Like jfc. It’s so fucking good. The soundtrack mixed with the scenario of absolute hopelessness. Only having just made it out of a near death experience into practically certain, and painful death, while just trying to find help for your slowly dying friend who you blame yourself for not having helped fast enough. And the absolutely brutal cutscene mixed with the hauntingly horrifying soundtrack really emphasises the absolute pain and horror in Bucks’ blind rage. I can only imagine the absolute despair that Iggy felt realising that he basically left Genzou to slowly die there by the creek, with false hope of a promise to find help.

I guess that’s wherein lies my question. What DID become of Genzou in that first Arc? I think that’s the only arc where his end is left uncertain. If I’m feeling particularly inspired I might just try my best at making a cool little dual-POV fic/rewrite(ig in Iggy’s case, since we do get his inner monolgue at the end of Arc 1, so I guess I would just be rewriting it with a focus on Genzou rather than, well, yeah) called „Dying thoughts” or something like that but no promises >_<

this is such a horrifically angsty question...

tbh i had not really thought specifically about what happens to genzou after iggy leaves. in my head it was just like "well it's obvious he's going to die soon" and so it mostly just left it at that. but dang would that make for a heartwrenching thing to explore. like we know that everything gets reset when iggy dies. but there's a good chunk of time between when iggy leaves and when he dies, and certainly genzou is still going to be conscious for at least most of that, so i can only imagine everything going on in his head during this time...

there's also the fact that arc 1 is somewhat unique in that the way that "iggy dies" is by erasing himself. so i've always wondered if like, for instance, the characters that are still alive when this happens, do they experience anything strange before the reset finally kicks in and the timeline loops as a result of that? it's a really interesting thing to think about...

none of these are things i have answers to and probably never will, as to me they're much more enjoyable to leave open for people to come up with their own thoughts and interpretations for what happens hahaha. but it's really heartwrenching to think about and has the possibility for a lot of angst sob...

i feel like there are a lot of open-ended questions left behind by all the arcs, all of which would be super interesting to explore from different characters' perspectives...

[johnslittlespoon]

HI I'M ALIVE i swear this is a pattern at this point, i post a new fic/chapter and disappear for a phat day (or two) lmaoo i literally get The Fear and i have to avoid notifs/comments for a bit <33

that being said, wept reading the comments on TAS, i'm so so thankful y'all are vibing with it because i was NERVOUS about posting my first ever modern au and i wanted to make sure it still felt true to the characters but everyone's been so unbelievably kind i'm so wahhahhhh :')) i appreciate the sweet words SO so much, it's so reassuring and so motivating <33

so motivating actually that i'm already halfway done ch2... whoops? litch rally buzzing with how excited i am to write, i don't think i've ever experienced this which sounds strange but like. okay hold i can already tell i'm gonna go on a tangent so let me cut myself off with a read more lmaoo

idk, does anyone else ever sometimes feel like even though obviously we all write fic for enjoyment because we do it for free, sometimes it feels like a chore? not in the sense that i feel obligated to write, but just that even though i feel passionately about what i want to write, it's just hard to get my brain into gear (adhd aside) even when i really want to. i'm just thinking out loudddd now but my concerta just kicked in so it's inevitable LOL word vomit and thought processing is apparently a necessary part of my writing process smh

writing yad(iym) has honestly been so helpful with this because one of the biggest things that i struggle with when writing is that i have a super vivid imagination and can picture exactly what i want to portray/convey, but sometimes i don't know how to get there, but with the dog coded fic i have the timeline of the actual show to follow, so it takes a lot of pressure off in that sense! it's sorta like filling in the gaps because i have something base level to work with.

but 99% of the time when writing, i don't have that, so i end up avoiding my docs often because i feel stuck in terms of progressing the storyline, and my writing process drags on so longgg. i'm finding too now that i'm writing my first (and second oops) actual long fic that oneshots are actually more difficult for me to finish for some reason despite most of mine being shorter than a singular chapter in my fics, which is funny because i was so terrified of commitment starting a chaptered fic but i've ended up being more consistent.

anyway point is, i adore writing yad(iym) and it's been the most fun experience i've had fic writing, but now that i've sorted out the world building aspects for tough and sweet, everything is just flowing and instead of having to sit myself down at my desk and kinda just force myself into the zone, i cannot drag myself out of my docs?? and i've never had that happen but i'm definitely trying to take advantage of it while it lasts and get as much written as possible!

i think it also helps that it's so lighthearted compared to the angst of yadiym (tho i've got some angst planned for tas too lol sry) so i don't have to think as much about the weight behind certain dialogue, or carefully plan out the progression of the relationship dynamic the way the time period/setting of yadiym requires. it's a nice breather from the constraints of the mota–verse (as much as it's still my favourite thing to read/write with these boys), but i also enjoy getting to sink back into that doc when i want something deeper than the little biker boys.

i'm still very much working away on yadiym tho to be clear!! i was scared to start tas before i finished it in case i hyperfixated on tas and my updates got slow on yadiym, but it's genuinely helped me find a balance because i'm always working on one if i'm not working on the other <3 i'm about half done ch6 too for yadiym (how many times can i type that in one post jfc), i'm just at an internal emotions heavy part which i Hate. writing lmaooo give me dialogue or smut and i can type away for hrs but introspection?? internal conflict? hell

ok that's all my fic related rambling thank uuuu/apologies if u sat thru all of that LOL lmk if your writing process/mindset is similar or not bc i'm always curious about how other people's brains work with this stuff!! also how does one get over feeling obnoxious about rambling on their own acc like. this is my acc. i could post 100 times a day if i wanted. i need to Relax good god

[anto-pops]

I've been thinking for a long time about what Mc's and Seb's boggarts could be.

I think or my Mc's boggart is herself. Only evil and power-obsessed. With her old magic she inflicts pain on others and enjoys it. Boggart-MC taunts MC that she is weak and not enough, that she is to blame for Fig's death (and that she couldn't save Sebastian in time fom getting lost in the dark arts.)

Seb's boggart might be Anne, MC (and Ominis), writhing on the floor and screaming in pain while he can't do anything.

Oh and Omini's boggart is probably how he hurts others like he was forced to do as a kid :(

What do you think about it? That would really interest me. I wouldn't mind if you wrote a fic about it either. (but you don't have to.)

THIS IS AN EXCELLENT TAKE, I LOVE IT ! I halfway brainstormed something a little similar a while back and never wound up writing anything for it, but you might have convinced me to with this

I had a similar thought in regards to my MC since she ended up taking the power from the Repository. I like to imagine it corrupts her to some degree and the new version of herself scares the hell out of her. Mix that together with literally everything you've included and yeah, I agree MC would be seeing herself as her boggart, much to her horror.

Sebastian and Ominis' boggarts make perfect sense as well; Sebastian only ever wanted to protect the people he loves, so to be forced to sit back and watch them in agony is his own personal hell. I also read a super interesting and frankly kinda dark take on Soloman potentially being Sebastian's boggart. There was a lot of animosity between them leading up to his death, so I wonder what their home life was like or if Soloman was ever a particularly nice guardian to him at any point (I'm watering down my thoughts heavily with this)

Then I feel like there's a lot to think about in regards to Ominis. Like how would he experience his boggart when it came down to it? Would everyone else see a small, 8 or 9 year old version of Ominis casting the Cruciatus curse ? Would Ominis hear the screams of the Muggle he'd been forced to torture ringing in his ears ? Or maybe it wouldn't even be him- maybe it would be his father commanding him to use the curse, or the animated corpse of his Aunt Noctua whispering that he failed her and let her die alone.

So so many possibilities, I love the unbridled angst it brings with it. I think I'll explore this prompt a little more, you got the gears in my brain turning now. I need a cork board to connect all these ideas brewing jfc

[lightlycareless]

so assuming that y/n and naoya are like far into the marriage and are getting along well. Do they fight every so often or are they the type of couple who rarely fight? 🤔

Heya anon!!

No relationship can go on with a few arguments here and there, but it's always about how the problem is approached rather than the problem itself (of course, there are certain limits to that but let's just go with the general)

I would love to believe that Naoya and Y/N wouldn't argue that much, if ever, however, due to the nature of his clan and his duties, that might be impossible.

I don't know of this could be of any consolation, but most of the arguments would be for exterior causes. In other words, you and Naoya have a good relationship, unfortunately, some people are not that happy about it and they may try come in-between the two, to no avail.

When arguments for personal things do happen though, I think Naoya would distance himself immediately at the heat of the moment, leaving you high and dry. You'd also leave, not wanting to talk to him either.

But after a few minutes pass, maybe an hour or so, when both have cooled down, Naoya would be the first to approach you. He'd wrap his arms around you, and you'd remain there, silent, as if still angry with him but secretly enjoying his touch.

"Why are you here?" you ask, trying to appear as unaffected as possible.

"I missed my princess." he'd respond, resting his head on top of yours.

"... that's too bad." you murmur.

"I know; I wonder if she'll allow me to see her?" Naoya smiles, knowing well that you're not really angry with him.

"... what for?"

"I don't know, was thinking about getting something to eat." he begins. "And maybe, dessert."

He knows he's got you right where you want judging by the slightest tension of your shoulders.

"...depends on what we get." you say carefully.

"Whatever you want." he kisses the top of your head, you remain silent.

Naoya sighs.

"...I—I don't like arguing with you." he admits. "I don't like seeing you upset, less when it's because of me."

You turn around, looking up to him.

"Me neither." you frown, sadness in your voice. "It's... always supposed to be us versus the world, right? I don't... I don't want to be against you."

"I'll never be against you." Naoya reassures you. "No matter what happens, I'll always be by your side."

With watery and trembling lips, you pull Naoya into a tight embrace, keeping him there.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too." he wraps his arms around you, doing his best to not cry himself. "But don't worry your pretty little head about that anymore. Instead, think about what you want for dinner."

"Dinner... what, you think you can just buy my forgiveness with food?" you tease.

"And dessert too." he smirks, you pout.

"I guess... you make a compelling argument—can't argue with that."

"There's nothing to argue about, the sky's the limit when it comes to you" you blush, looking away before smiling.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

jfc I— :( agkakjgjakg

Thank you so much for sending in this ask!! Idk if you wanted more angst but, well, heheheh I just think that once Naoya finds his true love, a.k.a, you, he'll never, ever do things to hurt you (intentionally) and because you love him too, you'll never hurt him either :')

Take care!! And hope to see you soon 🥺❤️

[bornincaldecott]

X-Men '97 | Episodes 1 & 2

X-Men TAS has always had a special place in my heart. That, along with the Dark Phoenix Saga (granted it had been out for awhile by the time I was able to read it), was my introduction to comics. I love everything X-Men, but TAS is special. So, like a lot of people, I went into this feeling several types of ways. When the intro started, I got chills.

All-in-all, I really enjoyed the first two episodes. I'm not super crazy about the animation style (why are all the ladies wearing super thick eyeliner a la the Scene Era?), but it's fine.

Crop Top Gambit in the first five minutes? Incredible. I wasn't crazy about his new VA initially, but he grew on me pretty quickly.

I actually liked Scott's voice the best. I think his new VA did an incredible job channeling his original VA.

The writing was clunky at times, but I get why (like when Rogue is moping about her powers at the rave, or when Jean is explaining to Storm about the Phoenix). First, they're trying to capture the essence of TAS, 90's cringe and all (nailed it). Second, this show isn't necessarily meant to bring in new fans. It's a happy by-product, sure, but not the intent. That said, they still have to ensure that things make sense (as much as possible) to any X-Men newbies, which means we gotta endure some awkward exposition.

Also

ALSO

I fucking called Rogueneto. When the first trailer dropped, and we got the last clip of hunky Mags, I was like...oh, they're doing Rogueneto. And honestly? I'm here for it. Do I like the pairing? No, it's not my cuppa, but what I do like is the angst it presents for Romy. Rogueneto also helps set Rogue and Gambit up as a foil to Jean and Scott's established relationship, and then they're the mid-point between Jean and Scott and what I am guessing is going to be Jubilee and Roberto.

This broke my heart though. UGH. I know it'll be alright in the end because the show's already said Romy is their OTP but stiiillllll.

AND I CALLED MADELYN?! Okok we won't actually know until next week but ?!?!?!?!?!

I could go on and on about the first two episodes, but instead I'll highlight some of my favorite parts.

Storm turning the desert to glass. JFC. Even the sentinels were like "danger Will Robinson!" And the quiet piano sound during the scene? MY GOD. CHILLS.

"He's here!" / "Apocalypse?!" / "THE BABY!" & Wolvie got a convertible.

Mag's monologue in the sky. Fucking wow.

The sentinel fight. It was so cool seeing them fight as a team.

And not to end on a bummer note, but...they introduced Genosha...did a whole bit with Mags saving the Morlocks and sending them there...and with what Jean saw in Cerebro in the first episode...yeah...I think we're getting that story.

Anyway! Loved the first two episodes. Super jazzed for the rest.

Have one last Remy gif for the road.

ffs I want him to look at me like that.

[emsuemsu]

@hprecfest day 15: most recent bookmark

I don’t bookmark and I consider it my biggest flaw. Like I just slam everything down to ”marked for later”-list and hope for the best when trying to find something from there. It’s chaotic. I’ll go into 2024 with two resolutions: quit smoking and start to bookmark my shit. Here’s my two most recent reads worthy of a bookmark though, maybe I’ll start my bookmarking career with these:

Former Things Come to Mind 🩵 64,073 words, draco/harry

Harry Potter has had a headache for seven and a half years.

This is from this years @hd-erised, fresh from the oven just published yesterday, and let me tell you how I screamed and creamed reading those tags (omorashi???? jfc). I cried myself through this fic. It's incredibly raw and tender and loving and painful and the state this fic left me... a mess. An utter, complete mess. An absolute unit of a story that ruined me in the best way possible.

Nighthawks by @m0srael 🩵 13,555 words, draco/harry

"The more he’d thought about it–and he had thought about it–the less certain he’d become that Draco had really been there, glowing in the murky glass of the diner window next to Harry’s stunned reflection like some cruel mockery of the Mirror of Erised. The longer he’d lain in bed, awake and fully clothed, the more convinced he was that he’s having some sort of mental breakdown. The long days and even longer nights must finally be getting to him, just like Hermione said they would. Because the fact of the matter is that Draco Malfoy couldn’t have been in this diner, his diner. Draco is thousands of kilometers, and a whole lifetime, away." In which Harry and Draco frequent the same diner when they can't sleep. Except--Draco left the UK five years ago, right after he broke Harry's heart.

Oh how I love this story. Right up my alley with the longing, the angst, the feels, the lonely diner in the rain vibes, the flashbacks... everything in this fic is heaven sent. Break up-make up has my heart, and this is an A+ example of it.

[sugar-omi]

(swiftie asker) "he was the sweet lemonade you wanted for a summer but cove was the water you needed" OH OKAY. OH OKAY. YOU LITERALLY COULD'VE JUST TAKEN MY STILL BEATING HEART AND THROWN IT INTO A FOOD PROCESSOR AND IT WOULD'VE HURT LESS THAN THAT. WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK DUDE

the idea of baxter filling the "other woman" archetype is so bittersweet because he doesn't even show any hints that he's upset about it. he's just so very good at reassuring others that everything's fine, that the day is meant to be about them and that he's here to make their special day perfect. but who's going to be there for him? who's going to be more than just his summer love? who's going to realize they still love him in the fall?

reminds me of some of taylor's new music from ttpd ... fortnight (the first track) is such a baxter song because like . fleeting love? the one that got away? "thought of calling ya, but you won't pick up" referring to baxter ghosting mc for five years? "i took the miracle move-on drug; the effects were temporary" referring to baxter trying to make himself as temporary as possible so mc would forget about him easily - and it not working? "i love you, it's ruining my life"? "i touched you for only a fortnight"? "all of this to say, i hope you're okay - but you're the reason"? "and for a fortnight there, we were forever"???? i'm sorry but it's literally him.

ahhhh i don't mean to constantly send in walls of text but i've been a fan of yours for a long ass time and i'm so glad you like my silly little ideas!! i look up to you a lot as a writer so it makes me really happy that you're willing to entertain my thoughts haha

"who's going to realize they still love him in the fall" OH MY GOD.... just snatch my heart up n squeeze it omg...

that song is so him. i listened to it like 3 times and it's so HIM. also "i love you, it's ruining my life" is the best fucking way to describe how I FELT AFTER PLAYING BAXTER'S DLC. the pain, the way he delicately then cruelly rejects you when you ask for more.

that'd be exactly what he was trying to avoid. it's why he didn't go further with you in the cabin, and it's why he keeps up the appearance of someone put together and strong, mysterious and a whirlwind. so much so you can't put up with it for more than the summer.

gives you the glitter and flare of a summer fling, gives you fun and excitement but deprives you of the intimacy, dodges the sensitive questions...

but you're too kind. always reaching out for him, pulling him into your small world, and he's too much of a sucker. falls for your sweet smile, your insistence that he joins your friends or family for activities. falls for you insisting that you need him, that you like him...

jfc i cannot ramble again, if anything im the one yapping your ear off LMAO. please i can ramble about baxter for DAYS. i love him but this man is the perfect angst bank and i can drag on for ages...

and please don't worry about writing long messages, even if i take awhile to respond, i love reading em so much. i was actually looking forward to what you had to say about my last response lol <3

n plus you know much more about taylor swift than i do, and the songs n stuff better. i mean i do check the lyrics n associate em n associate songs n stuff but i love how enthusiastic you are, it's very refreshing to me 😊

and omg you're so kind... ngl i cried a bit LOL i've never had someone say they look up to me n i didn't expect that, that's very sweet and i'm glad i'm good enough to be inspiring, i'm very happy to hear that🥹🫶

n i'm more than happy to listen to everyones thoughts, i think everything yall have to say is worthwhile and it's like you pluck some things straight out of my brain too 😂 i wish i could spend all day answering yall's thoughts and stuff, i get excited seeing more asks even though i cannot respond quickly

so thank you for sharing your thoughts <3 i look forward to more, n don't be afraid to dm me!!! yall are too sweet, so feel free to ask me anything 🥰