#opened the Interlude doc for the first time in months and was like
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Sorry I only ever work on Interlude when I'm sad 😫
#textpost#My dog isn't doing too well (>15 years old + blind + diabetic)....#I had to hand-feed him water and then gently coax him back into his bed because he seems kind of confused#Then after I went back to my bedroom I put on a Queen record and#opened the Interlude doc for the first time in months and was like#'I am detecting a pattern here'#Guess at least if the Interlude updates are spaced out you know I'm doing alright LMAO
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ᥫ᭡; You Could Be Mine Tonight; Interlude I
— Chigiri Hyōma
ᨳ Synop. In the city of romance, you're feeling anything but that when you find yourself face to face with a cruel stranger.
໋𓈒 Details. 18+ minors dni, gn!afab!reader, chigiri puts the go in egoist, first meetings, author self insert, selfship lore heavy, reader is italian-american living in italy, set in verona, some italian dialogue, first meetings; run time. 1.4k
(՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞) Director's Note. hihi loves, this is a cheeky repost of a fic i wrote that is my selfship lore with chigiri <3 i've been cooking up part two in the docs so enjoy <3
The fair city of Verona fed the romantic daydreamer that crawled into the deep recesses of your chest as a child. In spite of spending your last six months settling in, you couldn’t fathom ever tiring of waltzing through the old, cobbled streets and imagining the lives led by those living over five hundred years ago in the middle ages. Idling wonder if they too ran their fingertips across the smooth, rosy marbled walls. Or, if they gazed upon the stars while resting in the Piazza dei Signori as you did when your red wine tinged evenings drew to a close.
You supposed the reality of those living all those years ago were far more bleak than proposed by the Middle English romances you studied during your undergraduate. Still, it didn’t mean you couldn’t imagine a display of courtly love spilling over the aged edge of Juliet’s balcony; a gallant knight who was far more romantic than the whiny Romeo, and a demure lady who was more akin to a blossomed flower than a person. With the sky, a most remarkable shade of blue– far more dazzling than anything you’d seen back home– and the scent of sweet flowers carried on the breeze, it was difficult not to lose your thoughts within a fairytale-like dream.
A rich waft of freshly brewed espresso rouses you from your thoughts, bringing you back to the small café you’ve made into your home for the afternoon. Sparing a glance back to your laptop where your latest novel sits open, you sigh before snapping it shut. As romantic as Verona was, your fantasies failed to inspire an ending to the chapter you’ve spent the last month working on. You blamed the lack of direction on your recent move, halfway across the world from North America to Europe but in the droll truth you suspected your lack of romantic experience was beginning to impede upon your ability to write a romance novel. Shoving your things into your bag, you offered a wave to the barista before clearing out.
The next building over was calling your name.
It was a small, family owned bookstore that had been passed down at least six generations and resided between two restaurants. The current owner, Signor Fiorentino seemed perpetually miffed by the constant racket amassed by the staff when on break but was always amenable when offered fresh biscotti. Which was precisely why you picked up an extra one at the café in case you decided to head over.
The small bell above the door rings as it opens, announcing your presence, “Ciao signore!” You greet, shuffling through the cramped rows of shelving.
A smile tugs at your lips as you reach the small checkout counter where he sits. Signor Fiorentino is perched upon a well worn stool, thumbing through a copy of today's newspaper.
“Buonasera Signorina,” he grins at the sight of you, his smile growing wider when he takes notice of the biscotti in your hand, “Is that for me?”
You hold your hand out in response, passing it over to him, “You know it is,” you say, resting your elbows on the counter, “So, have you gotten anything new in stock?”
Your hopeful tone dwindles when Fiorentino narrows his eyes at you.
“Buttering me up with sweets are you?”
“What! No!” You frown, “But … I was wondering if you’d heard back about that custom bound copy of Romeo and Juliet?”
The expression he wears tells you he hasn’t. With a sigh, he shakes his head, “The seller says it's on their backlog and they’ll get back to me soon.”
You wear your emotions on your face as if it were your favourite sweater, never one to masterfully disguise the disappointment you felt. It was your greatest flaw that loved to rear its ugly head at the most inopportune moments. Like now. The corners of your mouth dipped into a petulant frown, your bottom lip jutting out. You became a mirror image to the kindergarteners you taught English to. They were cuter than you when they did it.
“Cara mia do not stress!”
Sometimes, he speaks to you as if he were your family. You allow him to far more often than you should. He reminded you of your nonno, you supposed that you reminded him of his children and grandchildren who had long since immigrated to North America. Reaching over the small counter, he rests a weathered, spotty hand onto your forearm.
“I’m not,” you mutter with a small sigh, “I’m just frustrated.”
He gives your arm a sympathetic squeeze.
“I know.”
Returning his smile, you turn to the dozens of book lined shelves in search of something to satiate the burn of disappointment you wished to mask. Your fingers graze against the lip of the dust covered shelves as you pass through them, floating around the shop as though you were a spectre rather than a customer. You settle in front of the stack of mediaeval literature. Pursing your lips, you tilt your head to get a better view of the title, Amorosa Visione. A long, narrative poem. It wasn’t exactly your first pick, you much preferred Middle English romances but you needed to branch out every once in a while. Pulling the book off the shelf, you took a step backwards as you skimmed the blurb printed on the back.
Another step backward causes you to bump into another person.
So engrossed in your reading, you hadn’t noticed they joined you in the aisle. Dipping your head down in apology, you offer them a smile.
They scoff, looking you up and down.
“I’m sorry,” you apologise, hoping they spoke English, “I didn’t see you there.”
His expression only worsens, “Yeah, right like I’m supposed to believe that,” he snips in English, flicking a strand of bright red hair from his eyes.
He turns toward you, standing with their arms crossed over his chest. His sunglasses slip down his nose as he peers at you. You blink in shock, face warming at the sight of him. He was pretty, unfairly so. With long, pretty lashes that frame sharp magenta eyes which cut right through you with his glare. Shaking your head, you remind yourself that he was a jerk who was irrationally annoyed over you accidentally bumping into him.
“I … I don’t understand what you mean,” you frown, “It was an accident, I promise I wouldn’t bump into a stranger on purpose.”
“You don’t recognise me?” The man asks, pushing his sunglasses further up the bridge of his nose with his middle finger.
You shift uncomfortably under his gaze. He seems to pick you apart with his clipped words and harsh stare as if he were given hours to scrutinise each miniscule part of you rather than a few measly minutes.
“Am I supposed to?” You cock your head to the side, “Are you an influencer or something?”
You give him a once over, taking in his attire. He was dressed fairly casually but still looked rather put together. The accent that shrouded his words told you that he too wasn’t from Verona, but nothing in the way he carried himself struck any ounce of familiarity. The arrogance and accusation that lingered in his narrowed gaze seemed to align with your view of celebrities and micro influencers.
Disgust flashes in his eyes,“No, I’m a professional soccer player,” he explains, “Manshine City, ever heard of it?”
“Okay …”
“I thought all Italians were huge soccer fans,” he says with a shrug of his shoulders.
You stifle an eye roll,“That’s a kinda a misconception like how not all Canadians are obsessed with hockey and say “aboot”” your comment doesn’t elicit a laugh like you hoped it would, instead he gives you a strange look, “Besides, even if it wasn’t we tend to be pretty nationalistic.”
“Right.”
A lull passes between the two of you before he speaks again.
“I apologise,” he says, almost begrudgingly, “For assuming you were some desperate fan.”
Biting back a snarky remark, you laughed to yourself. Were all athletes this full of themselves?
“No apology needed.”
He purses his lips before nodding his head.
“Just uh, don’t give the shop owner the same attitude unless you want to be chased out of here with a broom.”
The corners of his lips quirk up into the smallest of smiles, “I’ll try to keep that in mind.”
Tucking your book beneath your arm, you slink out of the aisle with a relieved sigh. You hoped, whatever other soccer players that may have been crawling about this fair city were certainly less egotistical than him.
© All content belongs to butchizuku. You are not allowed to modify, translate, redistribute, or plagiarize in anyway. Do not recommend outside of tumblr (tiktok, wattpad, twitter etc).
#chigiri hyoma x reader#bllk x reader#chigiri x reader#bluelock x reader#bllk x you#chigiri x you#chigiri hyoma#yumeship#yumeshipping#you could be mine tonight
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hiii i have 2 go to work soon have 2.3k words of nhw rand losing his mind over the simurgh copy/pasted from my google docs <3 (this is literally a tiny fraction of the entire nhw bitb interlude there's going to be so much. more. im normal)
August 20, 1997
“Rand.”
Rand doesn’t even look behind him, keeping his focus entirely on his bulletin board. “What?”
“Dude, I think you’re losing it.”
“I’m not losing anything, you don’t know shit, Kian.”
“You’ve barely left your room in five days,” says another voice–Becky, of fucking course. “Come on, you’re–this isn’t good. You’re driving yourself crazy.”
Rand scoffs, wincing as his head throbs with pain. “It has not been five fucking days, I would know if I’ve been in here for five god damn days.”
“You didn’t even come out for taco night!” Kian whines. “We had to taco it up without you, dude, you didn’t even eat the taco we brought you!”
“Look, I’m fucking busy, man, just–let me work.” He tries to throw another question into the recesses of his mind and inhales sharply when all he gets in response is a flash of pain. God dammit. He reaches for his desk for some ibuprofen. His hands do not shake, shut up.
“What are you even trying to figure out?” Becky asks, heaving a sigh.
“I–” Rand struggles to open his bottle of painkillers. His hands are clammy, slipping on the lid. “Fuck. I’m just–I’m trying to–fuck.”
“Dude,” Kian says, and his voice is softer, like he’s fucking fragile. “Is this about the Simurgh?”
The bottle slips out of Rand’s hands and clatters to the floor. He curses and bends down to pick it up. His back flairs with pain as he bends down and he hisses through his teeth. He braces his hand on his desk, waiting for the pain in his lower back to fade. “No.”
“Bullshit,” Becky scoffs. “You haven’t stopped thinking about the Simurgh for two fucking months, have you?”
He scoops up his pill bottle and straightens, grimacing at the pain. “Shut up.”
“You’re not a ticking time bomb, Tim,” Becky sighs. “If you were, you would have done something by now. Everyone in Lausanne has been losing their minds already.”
“You think I haven’t?” Rand whirls around to look at her. Even the motion of it makes his head hurt, his vision blurry. He looks away to fumble with his ibuprofen. He’s out of weed, he needs something to wrangle this bitch of a headache, and Becky and Kian and a stupid migraine are not going to distract him from getting to the bottom of this.
“Well, you’re not killing people and committing fuckin’ atrocities, man!” Becky says, stepping forward into the room. “You weren’t affected like the people in Lausanne! You’re fine!”
“We don’t know that!”
“Have you asked?”
“It never gives me an answer!” Rand’s voice breaks, cracking on the last word, and he would be fucking embarrassed about it if his head didn’t hurt like a motherfucker. “I ask so often, I keep fucking asking if I’m affected by the Simurgh, if I’m going to do something insane because of her, and it never gives me a yes or no! It just stays quiet! It’s the Simurgh, she’s–she’s fucking blocking my powers, she doesn’t want me to know what I’m going to do, she’s going to make me–she’s going to–”
“Rand, dude.” Kian steps forward, holding out a hand, reaching for him, as if to–fucking grab him or something, and Rand steps back and bumps into his bulletin board, the blunt ends of the tacks digging into his back through his shirt.
“I’m trying to make sure I’m not a fucking danger to you!”
“You’re not,” Kian insists, jaw set. “Dude, come on, just–let’s go eat dinner or something, you shouldn’t be taking painkillers on an empty stomach–”
“Says fucking you,” Rand snaps, and he stops before he can say anything else. Kian never told any of them about the amount of drugs he used to do back in L.A., or his shitty habits with food–Rand figured that out on his own, he can’t let Kian know he knows, he shouldn’t have been poking into Kian’s past in the first place but he was fucking curious back then, sue him–
“Rand,” Becky says, arms crossed, a low buzzing coming from her throat. “You need to get out of the house. You need to get out of this room.”
“I need to know what the Simurgh did to me!” he argues, and something tightens in his throat, almost like he’s about to fucking cry, but he’s not–he can’t do that, not here, not in front of anyone, if he does that then–then that’ll be it, that would have to be it, he’ll snap and he’ll do something crazy and hurt someone like the Simurgh wants him to–
The front door opens and he hears Rolan’s footsteps. “I’m home,” Rolan’s voice calls, a gentle buzzing layered underneath it.
Becky turns to yell out the door, her own buzzing growing louder in response to Rolan’s presence. “We’re in Rand’s room!”
Fuck, fuck, fuck, Rolan’s gonna have some shit to say about all this, Rand needs to–he’s got to–fuck, he doesn’t even know, his head fucking hurts and–his stomach roils. When did he last eat? This morning, right? He had–fuck.
Footsteps reach his door and he drops his pill bottle again. Dammit. He leans down to pick it up and his back flares with pain again–not his powers, the stupid fucking injury he got from Officer Dudes that never healed right, agony lancing up his spine and into his skull, pounding on his brain from the inside like something wants out. His legs nearly buckle under him, but he braces his hand against the wall to keep himself upright. He fucking hurts, god dammit, he’s been standing for too long, he needs to–
“Rand?” Rolan’s voice says. His voice isn’t soft like Kian’s; it’s firm, annoyed, almost angry, and Rand latches onto it like a lifeline. He doesn’t need to be treated like a fragile glass thing like Kian’s so insistent on doing–Rolan knows Rand, he knows how to whip him into shape, if Rand has a good argument maybe–maybe he’ll feel better and avoid whatever the Simurgh is pushing him to do.
“He’s been like this all fucking day,” Becky says.
“You don’t need to talk about me like I’m not here!” Rand tries to yell, turning to face his bulletin board again, but it comes out as more of a groan as he straightens, his entire spine cracking.
“Timothy, what the fuck are you doing?” Rolan asks.
“Don’t Timothy me, I’m trying to figure out what the Simurgh is going to make me do! You guys shouldn’t be here, I could–” His head pounds and he grimaces. “Fuck, go away. Let me figure this out.”
Footsteps shuffle in the room as Becky and Kian supposedly step aside to let Rolan through. “Tim, you’re losing it.”
“No shit! That’s why I–I need to figure out why, I need to know what the Simurgh is going to make me do-”
“She’s not going to make you do anything, because you weren’t–” Rolan groans in frustration, buzzing louder. “You weren’t exposed to the Simurgh for that long! None of us were! Just because you’re a little more paranoid than most people–”
“A little?”
“That doesn’t mean you’re going to go off the rails! You’re fucking fine, Rand!”
“How are you so sure? I keep asking, but it never answers!”
“Becuase if you’re not fine, the PRT is going to fucking kill you!”
Rand opens his mouth to fire back, but then the sentence sinks in and he pauses. “Huh?”
Rolan starts clicking, distressed. Rand turns to look at him finally, and he realizes Rolan’s not in one of his lawyer suits. He’s in his cape getup, his scarf unwrapped and hanging loose around his shoulders. Rand thought he was at work. Isn’t it a weekday? What–what day is it?
“I… I was just in a meeting with the Protectorate,” Rolan says, his voice quieter. “They’re discussing what to do with us and The Greats since we were in Lausanne when the Simurgh showed up. There’s a PRT squad leader who’s suggesting…” He sighs and runs a hand down his face. “Fuck, they think Lausanne should be bombed. Everyone in the city limits, rounded up and executed. The PRT is still working to reverse whatever the Simurgh did to them, but they’re not having any luck so far. Every PRT director shut down the execution idea, including Hearthrow, but if nothing can be done about the residents of Lausanne in about a year, they’re going to bring that option back on the table. It’s… not a definite thing, but… it might happen.”
Rand stares at Rolan. Kian and Becky also stare at him, but he doesn’t–he can’t even process the looks on their faces.
“They didn’t mention anything about you specifically in the meeting,” Rolan says, still clicking, “but since we were all in Lausanne, they want to subject all of us, including The Greats, to some psychological evaluations. Just to see if we’re stable. And–and if we’re not, I don’t–I don’t know if they’re going to quarantine us in with Lausanne. They didn’t say. I couldn’t say no, if I did they would think that I’m–compromised, somehow, probably. That I’m saying no because the Simurgh wants me to, or some shit.”
Rand’s stomach roils. They want to–bomb Lausanne. If they can’t fix what the Simurgh did to those people, they’re going to kill them. If Rand is compromised, they’re going to kill him.
He opens his mouth to say something, anything, he’s not–sure what yet, but something rises in his throat and he chokes. His hand comes up to block his mouth.
He’s gonna throw up.
He beelines for the door, shoving past Rolan, who lets out a “hey!”—annoyed maybe, incredulous, surprised, but Rand doesn’t fucking care. He stumbles into the bathroom and collapses on the floor in front of the toilet, his back seizing with pain, head pounding, his stomach turning, and his throat stings as bile touches the back of it.
He heaves. Nothing but bile splatters into the bowl. When did he last eat? He doesn’t fucking–that doesn’t matter, the Protectorate is going to fucking kill him, they’re going to–round him up with the rest of the Simurgh’s victims and gun him down like a rabid animal–
“Rand, Tim, hey.” There’s the clanking of armor next to him and a loud buzzing, and a body presses itself to his side, arms around his shoulders, holding him tight, and he’s not sure if it’s supposed to be a hug or a restraint but he doesn’t fucking care, it’s–tight and it’s grounding and it’s there and he reaches up to grip Rolan’s arms and keep them right where they are as he coughs and gags.
Someone else’s hands come to hold his hair back–Becky, from the scratching of her long nails on his neck. He hears voices–Becky and Kian, talking to each other, and then Kian leaves for the kitchen. Becky buzzes something to Rolan, who clicks back at her, and then she quickly winds Rand’s hair into a twist and sticks a clip in it before she leaves the bathroom.
He doesn’t know what they’re doing, but he doesn’t care. It doesn’t matter. He’s a liability, he’s a danger to the rest of them, he’s going to do something horrible and crazy and he should probably be put down but he doesn’t want to be and that’s what fucking scares him. His stomach clenches and he heaves into the bowl as Rolan holds him, buzzing like crazy, loud and insistent in Rand’s ears.
He swallows back a mouthful of bile. Eugh. He lets out a pathetic hack like a cat with a hairball or some shit. His eyes sting. Tears. He sniffles.
“Fuck,” he croaks. His breath hitches. He’s not crying. Fuck you.
“You’re not like the people in Lausanne,” Rolan mutters. His head is tucked against Rand’s shoulder. His chest vibrates against Rand’s side. “You’re not. None of us are.”
“Then why am I acting like this?” Rand rasps. His throat hurts.
“Because–you’re always fucking parnaoid, man. Of course you’re worried about this shit.”
“But–it never gives me a–an answer when I ask about it.”
“Maybe… it’s the wording? You’re asking if you’ll do something insane because of the Simurgh, and maybe you will, but not in the way you mean? Maybe you’ll do something because you’re paranoid about being one of her victims, not because you are one of her victims.”
Rand huffs a little. His breath tastes like puke. “Yeah, you’d know about wording, wouldn’t you.”
Rolan lets out a tiny exhale, akin to a snort. “I am a lawyer.”
Rand lets out a deep, shuddering breath. “Fuck, man.”
“I don’t think there’s any way to know if you’re–if you’re like the people in Lausanne. But even if you are, even if–even if you’re a danger, I’m not going to let the PRT round you up with everyone else and put you down. I’d… I’d rather let the world catch on fire than lose you again.”
Rand’s stomach flips at that. He almost thinks he might throw up again. The thought is–terrifying. Being controlled by an Endbringer, being made to hurt and kill and destroy, and knowing that Rolan would hold his hand and do it all with him if it came down to it.
He doesn’t want that for him, for either of them, but… he’d prefer that to dying and leaving Rolan behind.
Rand nods slowly. He grimaces and spits into the toilet bowl. Gross. A tear slips down his face. He reaches up and wipes it away.
Footsteps approach the bathroom. “I warmed up some leftover lasagna,” Kian’s voice says softly. “Come out and eat when you’re ready, dude.”
A gentle buzzing enters the room a second after. “I covered your bulletin board,” Becky says. “You’re sleeping in Rolan’s room tonight.”
Rand hates when they have to do this. When they have to baby him because he’s gone off the deep end.
Whatever. It’s–whatever.
#this is literally oneshot length in itself and it's like. not even a tenth of the full interlude#im REALLY normal about nhw bitb. as u can see#new haven wards
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Lexi's Monthly Edit

July 29th - August 31st, 2024
In case you missed them, here's a handy-dandy list of what I posted within the last month. This time we have 9 headcanon/ficlet (links only) and 8 fics (links with blurbs from each) below the cut. Enjoy!

ice cream headcanons
returning late headcanons
intimacy headcanon for Fools Rush In (mature) Steve Rogers x lab tech!reader
extra hotel bed headcanons
early autumn decorating headcanons
Pregnancy/Children headcanon for Sun, Salt, and Shield Steve Rogers x deep sea mermaid!reader
faking it in bed headcanons (mature)
favorite sex position headcanons (mature)
invisible!reader noticed by Steve
The Stoop for The Root of All Ransom Ransom Drysdale x rich!reader
"It's okay to be nervous, honey--" "I'm not nervous," he barks. "--because there's a lot going on right now. I get it--" "I was just thinking--" he rips the pinky ring off his hand and shows you the chunky gold emblem "--I'd have to get this little piece of shit resized, for f**k's sake, not that I wouldn't want to wear a g*ddamn wedding ring! What the f**k, woman?"
Jake's home! (mature) Jake Jensen x girlfriend!reader
The plastic shower curtain and its castors are yanked aside, and you squeal in delight, hopping over the lip of the tub—fully-clothed,—throwing your arms around his neck. One of his feet slips under the weight. “Hey, babe,” he says into your shoulder of still-dry cotton. You pull back and smile. At least, he’s fairly certain you’re smiling. You’re blurry, and he’s a bit blind without his glasses.
Let Me See You (mature) skinny!1940s!Steve Rogers x reader
"But he wasn't good to you," Steve soothes and wraps his hand around yours, "and he wasn't good for you." All you do is shrug and hide your face. Tears falls to the fabric below your eyes and seep through in dark patches. He scoots forward and lifts your chin with a gentle nudge. When your puffy red eyes meet his, he's struck by how lucky he feels to see you like this. It's odd to think someone who knew you more and for so much longer couldn't feel infinitely more attached and protective. You're so vulnerable, so open, so... "You're beautiful." Steve's tongue swipes over his dry lips. "You're so beautiful."
Safety Captain, Chapter One (no-powers AU) lifeguard!Steve Rogers x vacationer!reader
“Everyone’s okay,” he rushes, rubbing your back, warm and slick against your wet skin. “You don’t have to talk yet. Take it easy.” You still feel compelled to explain. “The—they were teasing him—“ you point to the chubbier kid in your group, the poor thing cowering by your lounge chair headquarters for the morning “—and I tried to stop them.” “I know, shhh, I saw. Just breathe slowly.” “Don’t like bullies,” you cough out anyway. The lifeguard at your side grins from ear to ear.
Interlude: A Special Visit for Hideout touch-starved!Nomad Steve Rogers x motel employee!reader
You’re teasing him, but it is fun to see the huge man kneeling at your bedside squirm. His blush is crimson in the candlelight. You poke his burly shoulder. “You were checkin’ me out…” “It’s not like that,” he whispers. “Anyway, make a wish, birthday girl.” Steve pushes the cupcake higher in your hold, encouraging you with a wry smile. Your breath is swift and precise, your desire so clear at the forefront of your mind that picking a wish—another wish, since he’s already here—takes no time at all.
Big Pharma, sex pollen (mature) Steve Rogers x doctor!reader
Bag tossed to the floor, you unbutton your pants and shimmy out of everything from shoes to panties, letting the longer tail of your dress shirt barely cover your modesty. Steve looks dumbfounded. It’s bad enough he has to run to you for a handy every few hours, but this? “Doc, no,” he breaths. “I understand the procedure,” you say calmly, echoing his harrowing consent from that first night he needed you. Steve’s brow furrows in strain. “We shouldn’t…” ‘We’ are way past ‘shouldn’t,’ buddy. “Can’t ask you to…“ but he also knows time’s a wasting.
To Tire Is Human Steve Rogers x reader
Steve eats his whole meal--entree and dessert--with his non-dominant hand just so he can hold yours. He had one of your days. He spent the drive home listing all the things he needed to do in his head, more energy for each tick, more time for sitting still, more of him to give... ...and then he got to enjoy a lovely dinner with you. You spent your energy on him, on you both. You spent energy specifically to spend time with him, and Steve could cry but he won't. He keeps smiling, making happy, pleased noises with each delicious bite.
For Show, reluctant marriage of convenience (mature) Ransom Drysdale x soulmate!reader
A pillow shifts. No, not a pillow; it’s your back, and when you shift again, Ran sees one of the plush throw blankets slink farther down your bare skin. It’s the largest swath of your body he’s ever seen. You lay with your arms folded, peering out the windows behind the couch, and you still haven’t fucking noticed him. He huffs before realizing he isn’t listening to the faint TV anymore, but when he ticks his head, he sees your TV isn’t on either. “”I think of nothing but you as I fall asleep at night”—” Ran hears a woman’s voice fake a deeper tone before switching to normal “—Javier says, pulling her soft curves into his hard body—”
[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]
#ro's bi-weekly edit#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers fluff#steve rogers smut#steve rogers x reader#ransom drysdale x reader#ransom drysdale fanfiction#ransom drysdale fluff#ransom drysdale smut#jake jensen smut#jake jensen x reader#jake jensen fanfiction
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hella got through chapter 6 everyone cheer!
i don't know how to respond to this coherently so i'm just going to scroll down and let the word vomit happen:
the choice of emoji reacts to some of these . . . i'm surprised hella hasn't killed you guys. keeping gin away from this mess is the last thing on my mind, unfortunately *stares at the BEAST tag*
ARRGHHHFGHHH IM SO GLAD YOU GUYS LIKE SSKK. they're such a breath of fresh air, and writing them comes so easily to me. while i like writing skk ( fucked up as they are--even at this point in the story ) and the fast-paced nature of their relationship, this is romance writing work coming from the guy whose only other fic had a first kiss at uhhh...160k words.
yesenina did serve too hard. i imagine her as similair to the others, but with a Rita Hayworth-like air of ambition about her, and that's a serve. and it's what gets her killed.
Chuuya Yuan history coming in SOON. actually. Next chapter. seeing hella lose it over Chuuya's internal monologue here has been absolutely hilarious and kind of rewarding. I Knew All That because I'm the author ( duh ) so i never really grasped how strange the shift to Chuuya's thoughts about the relationship would be. I mean there's snippets of it, like the diner scene, but you're right, it's fanfic and so that is a lot easier to sweep under the rug.
ACAB. I considered putting a line from Doc Riedenschneider in The Asphalt Jungle ( 1950 ) "Experience has taught me to never trust a policeman. Just when you think one's alright, he turns legit." in a divider chapter between part I and part II, but I thought was too on the nose following 7 ( and a bit pretentious considering this is just ao3 fanfic and not a published work or anything ) so i grabbed myself by the metaphorical monkey backpack and didn't. Mafia Nepo Baby 😭 I love Hella HUGE WIN FOR ME. I was so nervous because i needed to balance Chuuya being observant but also quite literally *out of the loop.* He's not from the same world as Dazai--he's not involved with the murders or the politics or the mess going on yet. He comes across as oblivious at times because Dazai's POV is purposefully designed to make you see him that way. Dazai's so sure he's in control of what Chuuya knows that he doesn't realize he might have met his match.
ZSKK are uhm. yeah. all im gonna say there.
the "PARDON." IM CACKLING
argh. the switch up with this chapter...why the hell am i getting nostalgic for something i wrote less than two months ago ( ican't believe i've been grinding through this fic so fast jesus ).
i love unhealthy dynamics, truly. this fic was really a test to see if i could write soukoku making each other worse. which is a pretty stark contrast to my other stuff.
HELLA. OH MY GOD. that bit about their careers . . . i can't believe she noticed that. Chuuya started the fic genuinely ambitious, wanting the spotlight, wanting to defy expectations set upon him by his looks, his race, and his past. Dazai's a cop, sworn to uphold the law, but he doesn't feel like a good person. He can't ( interlude chapter . . . stares out the window ), but he can use everything about who he is to give Chuuya the life he wants. like a guardian ange--*gets taken out by a sniper chapter 8 style* Their original goals aren't gone, per se, they've simply been reoriented.
can't wait for chapter 7
i know it'll make Hella want to hunt me down for sport, so i'll sleep with both eyes open for the forseeable future.
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Hey, y'all! It's that time of the month again~~ Time for a monthly update!!
I want to start this off with checking in on you guys. How's everyone doing? The year just started but it just feels like time is moving so fast already. I hope that this year will be much kinder to us all than it has been 🙏🏿🙏🏿 last year really tried to knock my dome top off, but I'm still here, so thats something. Let's all do our best, and kick or at least bruise the universes ass!
Clerical Updates
I have some changes that I'm planning for the Itch.io page, guys 👏🏿👏🏿👏🏿First thing first, I want to change the game's title screen. I had initially made it in Canva with the aid of a friend from work, but as I continue to work through the game, I feel like there could be a much more fitting image. However, your girl isn't a graphic designer, so I want to commission someone to make a header or some shit.
Then I want to add a game starting page into the actual demo. I’ve looked at some examples from other IF writers who have made one, but I think my code is wrong (as it usually is), so I’m pacing back and forth trying to figure out exactly how and what I’m doing wrong. stay tuned for the shenanigans, cause I bet its something super simple 🙃🙃
I've been slowing down in writing. I typically write in my Google docs app on my phone, it's easier than opening my laptop, but the app has been having hella issues. I think it's because of the document size, so it's been significantly slowing down my writing time. I've been looking into alternative apps, so if anyone has recommendations, let me know.
Game Progress
I am officially at 60k+ words!!
To be well (Alex’s Route): 49%
Search and Destroy (Mark's Route): <1%
Interlude (Intermission): 4%
So far, I have three big scenes left to write in Alex’s route.
North Wing. Nuff said.
Convergent: not to be confused with divergence
Isekai? Isekai.
Once I've written those scenes out, the rest will be smooth sailing. I just have ends to tie up and scenes to flesh out before I can finally push it into editing. I might do some of the fleshing out during editing to make it easier on myself (and to give myself a break), but I am just trying to go with the flow.
Once I push the game into editing, I'll take a break before I start on Mark's route. I'm still dealing with fatigue from Miss Rona despite having the same progress I had before I got sick but it just feels... weird. Like your girl is trapped in a slumber or something and I can't get out, but now I'm being anecdotal.
Back onto topic.
I want to talk about Mark's route for a moment. Because it truly is the bane of my existence, and I'm DREADING having to write it. I have three possible ways of how I want to deal with it:
Write the damn thing out, and stop bitching. Not ideal
Don't write it and be great 😤😤😤 most ideal
Release Alex's route once done with editing and worry about Mark at a later date. also not ideal cause then I have to come back to it! 🥴🤧😭
So, the last option is something I'm looking at real disrespectfully. Partially because I'm probably going to have to rewrite some of the subplots because when I plotted the outline for the entire episode, I had a precise idea of what was to occur. But Alex's route completely shifted from what was supposed to be there into something that I don't even recognize. Which isn't a bad thing, just… an inconvenience 🥴🥴
Therefore a lot of things that were supposed to happen just didn't. Which, again, isn't a bad thing. It just means that I need to reign the plot in again. I could finesse a lot of the content to make it flow, BUT that will take me some time.
So, in short... I still don't know what I'm gonna do!! 😭😭 but I probably will end up writing Mark's route cause I don't want to end up shorting you guys on content just cause I'm feeling lazy.
This episode has a LOT of variety in it. Like, I'm not even bullshitting. I'm aiming to make it so that you guys can replay it as often as you desire and still find new things you would have missed. (To make up for the fact that episode 2 probably won't be released until next year if we're being honest 🥴🥴)
The interlude isn't even something I'm thinking about at the moment. Partially because I'm trying to push through Episode 1, get done with Alex's Route and start on Mark's. A portion of it will still be in the update, but I'm debating if its going to be even smaller than what I intended it to be. Possibly? But again, I'm not so much of a planner as much as I am a 'go with the flow'er.
I'm hoping to drop pieces of the interlude this year until it's whole, instead of just writing the entire thing, cause I swear I'm not doing this shit again, lol 🤣🤣. Either way, I will keep you guys updated if anything changes.
I think that's it? If you guys have any questions, you know what to do. And if you need anything, let me know! I'm semi-available (not really) on the weekdays so I'll try to answer any asks as quickly as I can. But either way, love y'all 🤎🤎
#a trial of horror#if wip#twine game#interactive fiction#twine#interactive game#atoh#if game#if wips#horror if#horror games#cyoa
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Just realised you have 6 ongoing series 😯
Personally, I'm looking forward to more baking
If you guys haven't already, read Smite's Legendary Cookies
6? Daaaaaamn, I didn't even know myself, lol. Thanks as always for the ask, frisky! Also: wtf is that green thing, Chaewon???
Here is a short update how each series is doing:
Spaceship: Horizon
Bruh. I have my word doc for the next Interlude open for like 2 months but I am never happy when I open it. I'm not happy with what I have, I'm not happy with what I add and I'm not happy with my general idea. Maybe I should fully restart that interlude or skip it? but that seems impossible, so I'm stuck.
Please stay patient, all you S:H fans!
2. T[w]o find each other
Yeah, that bracket thingy was stolen from @midnightdancingsol, and the initial idea too. But after that, it was my crazy horny brain that kick started the first part and it was obvious for me that a second part was needed.
It's also obvious for me that there shall be a third part, but I have no great idea for a continuation/finale for Gaeul and Chaehyun's relationship/predicament, so it will take some time.
3. Classmating
Ah, yes. This series is very close to my heart, so I will only ever write when I feel confident in it and have some creative push. I am also willing to wait a long time for this day to come, which means it could take really, really long or it will pop in your feed in like two weeks.
I promise that Part 3 will be great either way!
4. L4 (Loathing Love)
Part 3 came out not so long ago, and I have some ideas for Part 4. IF I go with the current general direction, Part 4 will not be the Finale, meaning the series will continue beyond it.
As for right now, L4 is low on my priority list, so it will take quite some time for the next chapter!
5. Phone
Phone is unpredictable. If I have a BFH and can fit it into the setting, BOOM new fic in a day. If not, then Phone will be dead until I do a request for it or something. (This makes me realize that some requests are like 6 months old now, okay fuck sorry lol). I have two good idea for Phone in my draft box rn...
Maybe new Phone this month? Who knows...
6. Eleven to One
@sooyadelicacies asked me just a couple of hours ago, when we will collab again... man, work really been pulling me away, huh? Okay, fuck it! I will start a new collab on Eleven to One THIS week (if he is down) and then we'll see how it goes.
I can't get enough of Yujin recently, so this series is def not dead.
Those are all my active or not-so-active series'! Other one shots, quickes and stuff is my main focus rn and there is a LOT to come.
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WIP Ask Game of Shame
Tagged by @gosh-emperor who loves me and supports my stuff and nonsense even though most of the time we’re working out of totally different fandoms
Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Send me an ask with the title that most intrigues you and I’ll post a little snippet of it or tell you something about it. And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.
I’ve opted to only list fics with titles, as there are also another two dozen snippets and vague ideas that don’t have a name or extensive notation in my notes folders. If anyone would like to run with any of these ideas or inquire after the untitled works in my notes for possible adaptation, please feel free! All I ask is you tag my AO3 (also CuteAsAMuntin) when you post.
Scrivener Fics Folder:
The Witcher with the Mouth (Spideypool Witcher AU - witcher!Wade)
Wilson (Expensive Mistakes) (Spideypool song fic)
Caged-Up Animal pts. 4-14 & interludes 1-6 (Spideypool chastity plus poly)
The Sorrows of Young Wilson (Peter/Wade/Vanessa tropey a/b/o with nb/trans-secondary-gender Wade)
The New Sufferings of Young WWW (sequel to TSoYW)
Deterrent (Spideypool BDSM AU)
Google Docs Fics Folder:
Postlude: Inamorato (Spideypool, little epilogue to Aftermath)
Hung Like the Pelt of Some Prey (Teratober 2021 Collection)
What If… Venom Possessed Deadpool? (pre-Spideypool)
Mary Jane: Blue (MJ/Peter Parker)
Fics with extensive notes but no document of their own:
Spideypool:
What If… Venompool Fought Spider-Man
Chanukah (Baby Please Come Home) (Wade and Ellie have their first Chanukah with Peter)
The Scarlet Spider (Spideypool Witcher AU - witcher!Peter)
Dust to Dust (dæmon AU)
Nice Jewish Boyfriend (Wade tries to get circumcised for his conversion)
Spidey Meets Pool, Spidey Wants Pool, Spidey Loses Pool, Spidey Gets Pool (exactly what it sounds like)
Memento Mori (every Spider-Person since Peter has Deadpool)
Attack Dog (not a dog fic)
Don’t Ruin This (Peter was trapped in his own head by Doc Ock for months, and Wade never noticed)
Don’t Call It a Team-Up (being totally cool and chill about that crush)
Timelines (Wade gets knocked around the multiverse)
Spider-Man: Home to Roost (MCU!Spidey meets movie!Deadpool)
Free Wade (Free Guy AU - also a Peter/Gwen fic)
The Witcher:
A Matter of Degrees (Yenralt post Geralt being assaulted by Triss)
The Waters of Brokilon (Yenralt with some smut in my feelings)
Rip My Ribcage Open (Yenralt pegging)
A Witcher and a Sorceress Run into a Bard (Geryenskier)
Not My Immortal (Geryenskier inversion of the fandom trope of immortal!Jaskier)
Other:
What If Spider-Man Stayed in Boston? (Peter/Wade/Vanessa)
Dust to Dust: My Name Jeff (Gwenpool meets her dæmon, Jeff the Land Shark)
What If… Lady Deadpool Met Her Heartmate? (Wanda Wilson/Miguel O’Hara - alternate title: In Every Universe)
Festival of Lights (6-7 part series about celebrating various holidays that can be referred to as a “festival of lights” featuring Marvel characters)
What If… Peter and Mary Jane Had Stayed in Portland? (Peter/MJ - alternate title: Ask Your Local Ordained Rabbi)
Imprints (Peter/Wade/Vanessa a/b/o where Peter had a thing for Wade then he and Vanessa imprint on each other)
Hermione Granger and the Pegging of the Scion of Malfoy (Dramione)
Everything Looks Like a Nail (Wade/Weasel, semi follow-up to When All You Have Is a Hammer)
Check Hook (Spideydevil 1920s boxing AU)
It’s Practically Canon: or, How Not to Build a Superhero Polycule (poly Wade, serial monogamist Peter, and their partners)
Captain American Library Association (Stucky librarian AU)
They’re Only in the Southwest, and Other Stuff You Should Know (Runaways fic - Gert starts a podcast)
What If… Gwen Stacy Didn’t Die? (Gwen/Peter/MJ)
The Inherent Eroticism of Loyalty (original fiction about a forgotten deity regaining power)
I am absolutely not tagging FORTY-ONE people, but I will tag some folks whose work and/or blogs I enjoy because I am a NOSY FAN, and anyone else who would like to post this should feel free to consider themself tagged: @full-fledged-cumberbitch, @waterme-stories, @thekenwick, @jackironsides, @umbraastaff, @lazarusemma, @feminine-duck, @battlecries-dear, @herbgerblin, @copperbadge, @mikazure, @icannotreadcursive, @ruffboijuliaburnsides, @deputychairman, @natalieironside, @dandelionslute, @pillage-and-lute, @tsukiwolf42 , @fantasticstoryteller, @traincat, @dycefic, @beforejuko, @lovesbitca8, @themadkatter13, @mscaptainwinchester, @breedlejuice-writes, @gement, @cheermione, @li-izumi, @not-close-to-straight, @sordid-details-following, @lunastories, @dramamineontopofme, @wolfdrawer, @atemy, @albeenocookie, @dropthebeet-ao3, @serpentinhiding
#writing#stuff and nonsense#fanfic#ao3#the funny thing about this being 41 items is that Caged-Up Animal and Festival of Lights are series with almost 30 fics between them
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Realizing that almost a whole month has passed without me giving y'all an update 👀👀
I want to thank everyone so much for the support and love you guys are giving the game + me!!! Y'all are loved and appreciated 🤎🤎🤎
WHAT I'VE BEEN DOING
As y'all know, I released the update for ATOH at the end of June and have kinda sorta just been chilling since. I think I was/am dealing with a bout of writers' block cause every time I open my word doc, my mind goes blank 😅😅. Shit is detrimental to my health, honestly.
Right now, I have about 10k words written out, and both routes for episode one are plotted out, so all I need to do is actually type it out.
I'm replaying the game a bit to try and catch some inconsistencies and other issues with formatting in the game and making a list of what to fix or expand on for the next update.
I also received a NSFW drabble ask from M, so I'm gonna deliver on that, my friend. I'm just trying to beat back this damn block 😭
UPCOMING STUFF
Keep writing! I've got a lot of stuff to cover before I can release the next update, here's a very bare-bones list of what will be put in
Episode One (main content!)
Two routes (Search and Destroy, To Be Well)
Three game endings based on choices throughout the First Episode
Interlude
A lot of diverging paths and routes depending on choices made in game and during the carnival/fair 👀👀
Going Shopping! You're finally not broke?
Optional wet dreams anyone?
Beginning of Episode 2
Official intro to Jin/Faizan if you did not meet them at the fair
Yue poking his big head in? Its more likely than you think.
Based on this list, I probably won't be as active as I'd like? (I think). So if you send an ask and it never got answered, either the ask box ate it, OR I just forgot about it, so feel free to send another one lol.
And that's it!
Ooop, before I forget! I also have made a separate blog for the Naruto IF under @maboroshi-if! If you guys have any questions or even wanna chat about the upcoming game, you can send the asks over there! Right now, I don't have the introductory posts for the IF but once I do, it will be posted and pinned to the top so you guys can see it!
Ok, now I'm really done lol. Love ya 🤎🤎🤎
#a trial of horror#atoh#if wip#twine game#interactive fiction#bi-weekly update#twine wip#interactive game#posting this gave me anxiety and i dont even know why???#failing my own vibe check#smh
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