#canon look what you’ve done /lh

[happenstobehere]

Am I allowed to say all of them for the fic tag /lh

Well I don't see any reason why not. Below the cut for obvious reasons /lh

What is your favorite line that you’ve written in a fic?

Harry paused, looking up at B’elanna with a serious expression. “It’s called Pokémon. And it’s a lot of fun. Not that you’d understand, Lieutenant Buzzkill.”

What is one canon thing that you wish you could change?

Everything bad to ever happen to best girls.

Out of the comments you’ve received on your fics, what are two or three of your favorites?

I honestly don't know if I have any specific favorites. I love when comments repeat back a line from the fic or when they're basically giving a ted talk on what they liked. big confidence booster (which i often need after posting)

(sorry for the cop out answer I literally cannot remember any)

What is your wildest headcanon?

Idek. Polyam bau maybe? I don't think I have any particularly outrageous headcanons.

What’s your ideal writing setup?

I'm assuming this means like how you like your surroundings to be while writing. It doesn't matter too too much to me, as long as I'm physically comfortable and can focus. I do tend to enjoy writing more on my laptop, either in bed or on the couch depending on whatever else I have going on. Whether I listen to music depends on what I'm writing. Music is usually closer to the beginning of the process to get me in the swing but it's usually turned off at some point towards the end.

Do you like to outline your fic first or create as you go?

I don't really ever outline unless I know it's going to be a multichap or require some sort of established timeline or world building. Sometimes I have ideas of events I want to happen so I'll note those down, but mostly kind of create as I go and see where things will fit, if at all.

Have a piece of a WIP you want to share?

“Can we keep her?” Raffi sighed. “Seven, honey, we talked about this.” Seven picked up the Eevee by her torso, her lower legs hanging freely as Seven moved closer to Raffi. She lifted the pokémon up to cover her face. “Eevee!” She chirped as if on cue. Lowering the pokémon and settling her below her chin, Seven did the best puppy dog eyes she could. “Pleeease?” 

Raffi stood and stared at Seven for a beat before bringing her hand up to her head, huffing lightly, “I need to learn how to say no to you.”

Is there a tag you like to search for when looking for fanfics to read?

Usually just tags for whatever ship I'm fixated on or the work tag.

Do you like to post fics on a schedule or at random?

glances at my ao3 page Well,

But actually, I don't like to schedule posting bc it kind of takes the fun out for the most part. I usually just post when the fic is done. I did attempt to keep myself on a schedule as I was actively writing a multichap, but I think I'd only do a posting schedule if it was for a multichap and the entire fic was finished.

What helps you focus when you write?

I honestly have no idea. I sometimes listen to music or use a timer to snap my brain into writing mode but it's hit or miss.

What is your favorite fic that you’ve written?

mmm maybe we'll get by (autistic seven my beloved) or this emily and clyde drabble where they playfight cause they're doofuses and I love them.

Do you write for yourself, for others, or both?

Both kinda. It's mostly for me to get the ideas out of my brain but also to process things sometimes. I do write as a gift sometimes but it's mostly for myself I'd say (not that that stops me from worrying about how many people are reading)

Why did you start writing fanfic?

Honestly, I think it was to cope/process things in my life. Writing has always been that for me in a way.

Which character is your favorite to write?

Seven of Nine. (who's surprised)

Which character is the toughest to write?

Raffi is hard for me to write in a way, I just worry I'm not doing her justice or writing her too ooc 😭

Do you write for multiple fandoms? If yes, what is your favorite fic of yours for each fandom?

Sure do. For Star Trek: probably and all the stars aligned.

For Criminal Minds: my divine love (soulmate au my beloved)

How often do you read your own fics?

Rarely only bc I cringe looking back at most of my writing. I always have the urge to go back and try to rewrite but I resist.

Do you want to write something outside of fanfiction? If so, what about?

I have written a couple of short film scripts actually. I think I'd like to write about stuff people don't often talk about like mental health and neurodivergency and stuff like that. I don't think I have a particularly unique or special perspective or anything but still something I'd maybe like to do at some point.

If a movie or show were based on your fic, which fic would you choose and who would you fancast?

Oh I haven't thought about this. Maybe whole again just bc with so many characters and backstories it could become pretty dynamic as a tv show. I have no clue who I'd fancast in anything.

What inspires you and your writing?

Canon (duh), personal experiences, my friends and their headcanons.

Do you research for your fics?

Most of the time I look up something for the fic, but I rarely ever research for fics unless the character needs to be saying something they researched (cough cough spencer) or there's elements of my own world building that I want to be close-ish to canon.

What fics do you prefer on a scale of canon compliant to wildly original?

Somewhere between the two. I prefer when they're at least close to being in character but idc if they fuck around with what did or didn't happen.

Do you often write about a relationship or focus on an individual?

I write about relationships relatively often but it's not so much about the relationships as it is about these individual people and how their shit is affecting the relationship if that makes sense. At least that's more the mental process I have.

Have you included any sexy scenes in your fics? If yes, do you find them easy or difficult to write?

No <3 best I can do is a cut away. I've never written anything explicit bc I don't want to embarrass myself 😭

Is it easier to write angst or fluff?

Angst tbh. I usually have to get myself into a certain mindset to write pure fluff.

What sort of endings do you prefer to write: ambiguous, bad, happily ever after, etc.?

I don't totally have a preference but I think I usually leave them sort of ambiguous.

How many WIPs do you currently have?

Four I think lmao. They're collecting dust in my google drive I'm afraid.

Does anyone beta read or edit your fics?

Nope, I sometimes send parts to besties and/or ask for writing advice but I don't think I've ever have my fics beta'd.

Is there a fanfic or fanfic writer you recommend?

PepperSpicedLatte. Always. I have some recs in my bookmarks on ao3.

What led to your interest in the fandom?

points at Raine

Are non-fandom friends aware that you write fanfic?

Only the ones who also write fic.

What is the most impactful lesson you’ve learned about writing?

Somebody will read it, even if you think it's absolute dogshit. There is someone else in the world who will both read and enjoy it.

Do you like writing short fics or long fics?

It doesn't matter to me but they usually end up being on the relatively shorter side (1k-3k).

Do you have a writing milestone you’re working towards?

Nope.

Any advice for writers working through burnout or writer’s block?

I'm the one who needs the advice tbh... I can't help with that I'm afraid.

Would you ever want to write something canon if you got the opportunity?

Maybe but I feel like it would be really overwhelming and nervewracking.

Is there a favorite trope you like to write?

Hurt/comfort and established relationship. Also mutual pining.

If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?

Oh hmm maybe run your hands through my hair bc Seven doting on Raffi is >>>>>

[fbfh]

rocks at your window pt. 4 - ricky bowen x reader

disclaimer: this series contains smut and chapter by chapter warnings, so as with all nsfw works, ricky is aged up to 18+!! ricky and reader are 18 and in their senior year

additionally, we're working towards a ricky x therapy plot so he's going to start expressing some symptoms of mental illness and bpd starting in this chapter but I promise he does get therapy eventually and has a good support system (he gets worse before he gets better yk) and obviously i'm not a professional and this is for entertainment so while I have done my research pls take this with a grain of salt!! or several!! /lh

!! contains some spoilers for season 1 of hsmtmts, and previous chapters of this fic !!

wc: 11k I know

genre: smut, slice of life/coming of age, one sided pining, fluff

pairing: ricky bowen x (afab she/her) reader

warnings: NOT PROOF READ AT ALL, more facebook messanger texts we'll politely pretend aren't facebook messanger, protecting carlos and seb during hoco (+ one use of the word homophobia), you're the dolly levi of the friend group, a LOT of hello dolly references??, TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF, ricky's falling HARD, antagonist!nina, one sided rina angst (like BIG gina angst), big red is ricky's temporary therapist, ricky has bpd, ricky kind of splits on gina??, ricky has anxiety too, dr phil and big red and natalie's emotional support hamster are the only consistant things in anyone's life, drama/general messiness, oral (m + f recieving), sneaky quiet late night don't wake up the parents sex, making out, ricky thinks you smell so good he has to bang you right now, "stay quiet or I stop", switch!ricky, switch!reader, calling ricky a good boy, praise kink, giggly sex, waking up the morning after to an empty bed but not at all on bad terms (and no ghosting)

summary: ricky works up the guts to ask you to homecoming. if you can navigate all the drama, maybe he'll get to rearrange yours after dancing together all night.

song recs: old friend - mitski, 10 minutes ago - cinderella (1997), dancing - hello dolly (1969), in love on valentine's day - paul sandrone, daniel farrant, james knight (spotify link bc it's literally not on youtube??? tracking down this song was a nightmare /lh), you turned the tables on me - billie holiday, born to be brave - nico iaciancio cover (bc that's what I think the original sounds like in canon), soulmate who wasn't meant to be - jess benko, perfume - new hope club

a/n: could I have split this up?? yes but I'm not going to. also congrats 2 me bc I'm officially in the 10k one shot girlie club!! this is the longest thing i've ever written and my eyes are burning. ricky has bpd, I knew from the moment I saw this motherfucker I was like "yup bpd and mommy issues" and I was RIGHT why is no one talking about this also go watch crazy ex girlfriend

EDIT: I FORGOT TO ADD THE LINK TO THE VAMPIRE DIARIES VIDEO YOU REFERENCE IN THE BEGINNING (obvious spoilers for vampire diaries lol)

tags: @yesv01 @afidiofobia @aliyahsutherland @hopefullhearts @afidiofobia @aliyahsutherland @matiere-detoiles @ifilwtmfc @uselesssapphickitten @nxstalgicnxbxdy @ggclarissa

There’s no reason to be nervous. Ricky has literally no reason to be nervous. You’ve been together practically 24/7 since… all this began. He ducks his head down and his eyes land on the smooth counter top of the booth you’re sitting in. Heat rushes to his cheeks as it so often does around you, as he remembers all the time you’ve spent together. He tries to pay as much attention as he can to your summary of the video essay on vampire diaries you’d watched while doing homework last night, even though his thoughts are racing, and all centered on you. On asking you something really important - but also like, totally not a big deal or whatever.

“So apparently they just regularly bring characters back from the dead,” you inform him with a laugh, and take a sip of your coffee. He didn’t think people could look particularly cute while sipping something until he met you… until he got close with you. 

“Yeah, that’s pretty crazy,” he agrees, hoping he sounds normal. You glance up at him to make sure he’s okay. You can tell he seems a little distracted, and he knows he has to ask you. It’s now or never. 

“So…” he begins.

“Yeah?” you lean forward, already invested in what he has to say. God, he loves that. He loves the way you care, really care about what he has to say. He lets out a small, breathy laugh, that you mirror when you hear his.

“So, homecoming is soon,” he smiles, and is pretty sure you know where he’s going with this. Your eyes widen in moderate surprise.

“It is? Already?” you ask, pulling out your phone to check your very messy calendar. “Jesus, I thought we still had a few more weeks…” you muse, and Ricky smiles. God, how can you make everything - even being a little scatterbrained sometimes - so fucking cute? 

You look back up from your phone, snapping him back to attention. His breath is shallow.

“So…” he says again, and rubs the palms of his hands up and down his jeans. Why is he so nervous? He has no reason to be nervous. You’re silent, waiting for him to continue in a way that feels patient, encouraging even, instead of critical like it would be from someone else. 

“...Do you want to go? To homecoming?” 

His heart is in his throat.

“Like, together?” You take another sip. He’s so choked up, so worried you’ll say no. He nods. You smile. 

“Hell yeah,” you lean back and pull out your phone to text your mom, who is currently at a PTA meeting, about dress shopping this weekend, biting your lip as you type. Relief turns to elation as you discuss plans, coordinate rides with your friends, and get a plan together. He bounces his leg, getting really excited for all this. He’s never been one for school dances, but with you… it’s a whole different story. He can’t stop looking at you. 

“So, what color is your dress going to be? You know, so I can get a tie to match.” A light, happy chuckle dances across the table and you hum in consideration, glancing down at the scone in your hand, your favorite flavor that’s become somewhat of a signature with you and Ricky.

“Peach.” 

You both giggle.

“Perfect.” he smiles. You’re going to look so pretty in a peach dress. At homecoming. With him. A burst of kinetic energy waves through him at the thought. The atmosphere is nice, comfortable. It always is with you. You finish the bite of pastry in your mouth.

“You know,” you start, “maybe you should go suit shopping with your dad. It might be nice to have a guy’s day together.” 

His mom has been gone for a few weeks now, and he told you how badly his dad is struggling. He means well, it’s just… been hard on him. It might be nice, he thinks, really nice to go out and spend some time with his dad, have some fun. He doesn’t remember the last time they had a day like that together. He’d really like that, if his dad wanted to.

“Yeah,” he agrees, wondering when a good time to bring it up will be, “that would be nice.” 

Around the time you’re ready to head home, your phone lights up with a text from your mom, informing you everything at the PTA meeting went great, and she’ll fill you in on the details at home, and you thank her, informing her there’s a hazelnut coffee coming her way. 

It’s Friday night, and you have less than 24 hours to homecoming. You’re not sure how you were able to find a dress you actually like in the right color on such short notice, but somehow you managed. You and Ricky have been texting all day, filling each other in on how last minute shopping had been going for each of you. He was shocked at how well today went with his dad. He was bracing himself for the worst for a lot of the afternoon, but the day progressed and nothing bad happened. They even got dinner afterwards. 

Now, you’re sitting at your desk, finishing some homework while you facetime each other and fill him in on the whole cast’s plan to be there for Carlos and Seb tomorrow night. 

“And, like,” you continue rambling as you wrap up your science worksheet, “it’s so ridiculous that that’s even necessary, you know? Out of all the living things in the world, humans are the only ones who thought to make up homophobia.” 

“Right? Worst idea ever,” he muses. 

“Exactly!” you exclaim in agreement, looking up at your phone. You mutter something about how stupid people can be, eyes moving down and skimming your paper, double checking your answers one last time. Ricky watches you do this. Your desk light casts a warm glow over you, and he can see some of your posters on the opposite wall from  where you have your phone propped up. He knows exactly which ones they are, too. He has every detail of your room - and of you - memorized by now.

He’s supposed to be finishing his english homework, that’s the whole point of facetiming each other this late, to keep each other company while you work. Instead his papers lay discarded on his desk as he watches you, a look of fondness dusting his face. You tap your pencil against each question on your worksheet, eyebrows scrunched, mouthing the answers to yourself as you go. Occasionally you’ll stop, turning to your book to check a chart or vocabulary word, then erase your answer and select a different one. 

“And that’s why we proofread,” you mutter to yourself, and Ricky giggles. You look back up at him, smiling, then back at your paper for one last once over. 

“Okay, I’m just about done,” you say, putting your homework in your bag to turn in later, with a satisfactory sigh. Ricky glances at the time. It’s getting late already. He’s torn between wanting to make sure you get enough sleep, and wanting to talk to you all night. He watches you rub your eyes, suppressing a yawn. 

“We should probably go to bed now,” it’s more of a question, but you agree anyway. You pick up your phone and walk into your bathroom, grabbing your toothbrush as you say your drawn out good nights. 

Ricky thought he was nervous asking you to homecoming? Turns out that’s nothing compared where he is now, waiting for you in your foyer. Somehow your house had become the unofficial get ready spot for the girls and Carlos, and meet up place for everyone else. So that’s where Ricky finds himself, barely unable to socialize or talk with his friends, all his thoughts preoccupied with you. He hasn’t seen you all day; you and the girls have been getting ready together, and he’s been trying to teach Big Red to dance all day. 

Ashlyn comes down first. Her bubbly presence immediately eases some of the tension in the atmosphere from Ricky and EJ having to wait together in such close quarters. She waits with them for the others while they finish getting ready. It doesn’t slip past Ricky how nervous Big Red suddenly gets when she comes down the staircase. 

Natalie is next - almost. Half way down the stairs, a snap resonates off the walls, and she freezes. She looks down at her left shoe, the heel of which has completely snapped off.

“Oh my god,” she mutters, and walks carefully back up to your room. A minute later, presumably after she informs you about her wardrobe malfunction, Ricky hears your voice, faint and bouncing off the stairwell. 

“It’s okay, that’s the risk you take with stilettos,” you say, trying to calm her justified panic. He hears you say something about how Margot Robbie broke a heel at an award show a few years ago as your bedroom door closes again. 

The door opens, and Carlos appears at the landing. His face falls slightly as he realizes Seb isn’t here yet.

“It’s okay, he’s probably going to meet up with us at school.” Ricky comforts. 

“Yeah,” he agrees with a laugh at his own nervousness, “yeah, you’re probably right.”  Carlos takes a deep breath, and Ricky notices the swirly, metallic red pattern on his suit. 

“You look great, man,” He says, hoping to take Carlos’s mind off the unexpected radio silence from Seb. The comment is appreciated, but seems to catch him off guard. 

“Thanks,” he replies, “dude,” he punctuates with a friendly - very awkward - punch to Ricky’s arm. It’s more of a nudge, but he appreciates the sense of comradery nonetheless. 

Footsteps echo down the stairs, and Ricky looks up, stomach twisting in anticipation. Natalie emmerges, much more carefully this time. She greets everyone, then starts talking to Ashlyn about the shoe incident. Ricky is trying really, really hard not to look like he’s waiting for you, but it feels almost impossible to focus on anything else. 

Finally, several painfully long minutes later, he hears the click of high heels approaching the steps. He walks to the bottom of the stairs, heart thumping as you round the corner, and all the breath is pulled from his lungs at the sight of you. You descend the stairs, hair and dress flowing and bouncing with every step, glowing under the chandelier light. Your dress, mid length and flouncy, a peachy champagne that compliments your hair and skin tone perfectly, shimmers subtly when you move, glistening like starlight. 

Your makeup is understated and glowy, bringing out every beautiful feature you have - which is all of them. Your hair is perfect, glossy and voluminous. Your earrings look like little pink silk flowers, and there are matching, larger silk flowers on the side of your heels. Your nails are manicured a soft peachy pink, with little sparkling accents. You even smell like peaches, he realizes, subconsciously taking a step closer to the bottom of the stairs as you get closer. You seem to descend in slow motion as Ricky takes in every detail.

Your expression mirrors his the moment you see him. You did not expect him to look that good in a suit. It couldn’t fit better, the cut and seams of the dark fabric perfectly accentuating his physique. His tie matches your dress, the same shade of peach, and you bite back a smile. The expression on his face can only be described as a breathless wow, and it’s something you'll never forget. Your cheeks are warm and suddenly it all feels real. You find yourself very excited to have fun at homecoming with him tonight. 

You finally float down to the bottom of the stairs, stopping in front of him. It’s quiet for a moment, as you take each other in, face to face. You’re both struggling to find the words, thrown off guard by the energy in the air, by each other. Behind you, Ashlyn claps awkwardly.

“Alright, everyone ready to go?” 

You and Ricky both giggle at the same time, and his chest warms at how in sync you are. 

“Yeah,” You confirm, smiling over at Ashlyn and grabbing Ricky’s arm in a way that makes his heart palpitate, “let’s go.”

Standing with you on the dance floor, his hand on your waist as you attempt to teach him how to waltz, Ricky is so thankful for homecoming, for an opportunity to be close to you like this. 

“I told you,” he laughs, enamored with your optimistic determination, “I can’t dance.” 

“Yes,” you smile, “you can. You just haven’t had the right teacher.” His cheeks flush at your words, the feeling of your hands on his, and he’s hit with the sudden memory of the last time your lips were on his neck. 

“I think you’re probably right about that…” he mutters under his breath. You bite back a smile, adjusting the position of his hand on your waist. You step closer, and his heart beats faster. He watches your face closely as you explain the basics of a waltz, a box step. 

“Like in ‘Dancing’ from Hello Dolly.” you smile, eyes widening at the blank look on his face. “Oh my god, it’s a musical classic! Carol Channing played Dolly in the original broadway cast in ‘64, then Barbra Streisand in the film adaptation in ‘69.” 

“Wow,” he smiles. He loves when you talk about theatre and Broadway, loves the way your eyes light up. “They’re like, really famous, right?” You let out a light hearted scoff.

“Broadway legends.” You smile, “The movie was directed by Gene Kelly, too, it’s amazing. We should watch it this weekend, if you want to,” you look up at him, eyes glittering under the soft twinkling lights. 

“Yeah,” Ricky laughs, “definitely.” 

After a moment, you remember why you brought Hello Dolly up in the first place. 

“Right,” you say, memory jogged, “there’s a song called ‘Dancing’ where Dolly is teaching Cornelius and Barnaby how to dance so they can impress these girls who work at a ladies hat shop-” 

“Cornelius and Barnaby?” he asks with a laugh. 

“It takes place in 1890!” you say, jokingly defensive. 

“Right,” he agrees, “so a… ladies hat shop…?” 

“Totally era appropriate.” 

You’re both giggling, trying not to be too loud. You lean your head forward, resting it on his shoulder. The sound of your laughter, the feeling of your head resting against him brings back that warm feeling he always gets around you. It takes you a moment to regain your composure. It’s been like this all night, the conversation flowing like a river, always making each other laugh over something or other. 

“So,” you begin, once again ready to dance with him, “put your hand on her waist and stand.” You recite, moving his hand from your back to your waist and adjusting your posture. 

“With her right-” you hesitate, making sure you have the correct hand, then continue, “in your left hand. And…” You step back with your left foot, motioning for him to follow, then back and out with your right, then together. 

“One… two… three…” 

You repeat the steps.

“One… two… three…”

And again.

“One… two… three…” 

You look up at him, your smile blinding.

“Look, you’re dancing!” 

He looks up at you, excited, disbelieving that he got it so quickly.

“Wait, that’s it?” he asks quietly.

“Yeah,” you nod, “see? I told you you can dance.” You start to move again, and he follows, hesitant but slowly getting the hang of it. After a second, he says your name, voice quiet and still watching the ground. 

“Can you keep singing? It’s making it a lot easier…” he chuckles, hoping you can’t tell how much he loves hearing your voice. 

So you do. You sing quietly, just enough for him to hear, about dancing and how it’s the perfect excuse to hold someone you like close to you, as you waltz carefully around the room. An electric, intimate feeling ties you together as you weave through the room. It's like something clicked, he thinks, because it makes sense. This, dancing, makes sense. He’s pulled from his epiphany by your melodic voice. 

"We should do Hello Dolly, it would be so fun!" You giggle.

"Yeah?" He asks, smile mirroring yours, "Who would you play?" You let out a light hearted huff, considering. 

"I would love to play Dolly," you admit. You had always hoped to portray the classic role, dreaming of being able to follow in the footsteps of other iconic actresses like Carol Channing and Barbra Streisand. You barely get the sentence out when Ricky nods, agreeing. 

"You would make an amazing Dolly." You laugh, cheeks warm, flattered by his response. 

"Who do you think I should be?" He asks, that playful energy flowing comfortably between you as he raises his arm, spinning you around. 

"Well," you begin with a laugh, "if you played Cornelius we’d get to waltz together. But if you played Horace and I played Dolly we'd get married at the end." 

His heart squeezes at your words, imagination already taking off like a wild horse. Again, your melodic voice pulls him back down to earth. 

"But playing Irene would be fun too…" you sigh, twirling in his arms again, your dress glittering under the soft lights. Your hands return to their previous position resting on his shoulder and your waist, free hands clasped together, and you begin to move in tandem. You twirl and float around the room, feeling the music wrap around you like a warm blanket in autumn. 

In that beautiful moment between the two of you, he doesn’t just understand dancing, he realizes, he loves it. Like, a lot. He loves this, being close to you. He loves the connection between you, and he wants to keep dancing with you all night. 

He giggles, twirling you around in his arms again. On your way around, you see Carlos behind you at your table holding up his phone, a smile on his face. You’re glad he seems okay; Seb still hasn’t shown up and everyone’s been worried about both of them. A split second later, you’re back in Ricky’s arms, and your heart soars at the smile on his face. You’d been hoping dancing together at homecoming might help him in rehearsals. Based on how well he’s doing - and how much fun he seems to be having - you can tell your hunch was correct. 

After a few more songs, you begin to make your way back to your table. Ricky’s hand settles on your back, guiding you through the crowd. Two more people are seated there than when you left, and your eyes widen. 

“Oh my god.” you say quietly, “Gina and EJ came together?” 

Ricky glances up, gaze almost immediately turning back to you as you get closer.

“Oh, they did? I didn’t notice.” 

Fighting to maintain her poker face, Gina’s stomach drops at his words. Her eyes dart between you and Ricky, the way he’s looking at you. She grips her clutch tighter. This is really, really bad for her. Gina barely had a plan for making Ricky jealous and freaked out so he’d quit the show to begin with. She definitely did not plan on you waltzing into the picture - literally - and stealing away all of his attention. He can’t get jealous if all of his focus is on you. A sinking feeling begins to invade the pit of her stomach. 

Ricky’s phone buzzes with a text from his dad. 

“Hey,” he says, showing you the screen, “which shirt do you like better?” 

He’s been filling you in on his dad’s hot date he has tonight, and you’re both very relieved to see that he’s doing okay, putting himself out there. You look at the pictures, and consider.

“Hmm… the second one.” you conclude. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought too,” he agrees easily. He loves how you always seem to be on the same page. 

“Wow,” comes EJ’s voice from across the table. He sounds really stiff. “I had no idea you were each other’s dates to homecoming.” He states, sharing a quick look with Gina he hopes no one notices. 

“Yeah, we are,” Ricky smiles, “we’re each other’s dates.” He doesn’t think it would be too far fetched to say you’re… dating. 

“Yep, partners in crime.” You smile, showing off your plastic ring. Ricky holds up his, kept on a chain, sitting right over his heart. 

“Aw,” Carlos says, an almost bittersweet undercurrent to his voice, “you guys are so cute.” He gestures for you to lean closer to each other. “Let me get a pic for my story!” 

Ricky does not need to be told twice. He throws his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your cheek as you hold his arm and giggle. It’s the perfect shot, the sincerity of the fun you’re having evident in the photo. 

Gina runs her tongue over her teeth. She really does not like that. 

Across town, sitting at a table in a shitty karaoke spot, Nina scrolls through instagram while Kourtney rants about the bitch who criticized her costume suggestions. Something about a lime green sweater? She’s not really paying attention, she’s too distracted by the hideous dress that Gina’s wearing. And the fact that she went to hoco with Nina’s ex boyfriend. 

“Look at this,” she says, showing Kourtney her phone. “She looks like she’s wearing a bedazzled tablecloth.” Kourtney looks at her phone, disapproval written all over her face. 

“And,” Nina says, gearing up to point out the obvious jab at her, “she’s with EJ.”

Kourtney knows where this is going. Before Nini can go off about how obviously Gina has it out for her, she takes a sip of her drink. 

“Is there anything on their stories?”

She taps EJ’s story and it’s just a boomerang of the food. 

“No, just-” Carlos’s story plays next and Nina almost pukes. Right there on her screen is Ricky, kissing your cheek, leaning into you like a cat. You’re in an unfortunately gorgeous dress, grinning so sincerely, your nose effortlessly scrunched. Next is a video of you two dancing. Like, really, properly dancing. She can’t believe you got him to dance - he doesn’t even dance in rehearsal when he’s supposed to! She watches the two of you ballroom dancing around the gym, breath speeding up slightly at the realization that he’s actually good. The sick pit forming in her stomach grows as she rewatches the video again. She wants to know why, after all the practice, all the failed attempts and his reluctance, why it works when you do it? Why isn’t she good enough? She dwells in the feeling for a few minutes. She scrolls through a few more hoco posts before finding one that has your account tagged. It’s private. 

“Kourt,” she says, showing her her phone, “you need to follow her.” 

“Why?” Kourtney asks.

“So I can see what’s on her instagram.” Nina says. She can’t let you know she’s lurking, so the obvious solution is to lurk through Kourtney’s account. Kourtney sighs. She requests to follow you. 

A few feet away from your table, Ashlyn gives you a look, gesturing subtly to Carlos, then to the hallway. Seb still isn’t here. 

“Hey,” you say quietly to Ricky, “I’ll be right back.” you smile, eyes flicking over to Ashlyn and Carlos. 

“Yeah, sure,” he says, watching you leave with them to give Carlos a pep talk. A soft smile kisses the corners of Ricky’s mouth, watching you in utter adoration. He lets out a small sigh, gaze lingering on where you stood even after you’re out of sight. 

Gina watches him watch you, his dark auburn hair glowing in the warm twinkle lights strung up throughout the gym. His eyes seem to sparkle with joy when he finally tears his gaze away, staring absentmindedly at the table. 

“EJ,” she says, “could you get me some punch, babe?” 

“Uh,” he says, clearly unused to the term of endearment, “sure… babe.” He heads over to the drinks, the tension between them thinly veiled. This seems to snap Ricky out of whatever his train of thought was, and he scoots closer to Gina. She watches him lean closer to her and begin speaking in a low, almost strangely intimate tone of voice. 

"Hey, you know EJ went through Nini’s phone before they broke up, right?” 

She raises her eyebrows. 

“Just… you know, be a little careful around him.” 

“I can take care of myself, Ricky.” She states incredulously.

“Yeah, of course you can.” he says, head tilted to the side with a little smile, like it should be obvious, “You’re so talented and ambitious, and - honestly, way too good for him.” He mutters the last part, but she definitely hears it. 

“You’re way too cool to get your heart broken by a guy who plays water polo.” He says, drawing a reflexive laugh out of her. 

“Just… take care of yourself.” he concludes, locking eyes with her before moving back to his seat. It’s only for a moment, but long enough for her to commit the color to memory.

“Right.” she says, working harder than she usually has to to keep her expression neutral. 

Later, between dances, you and Ricky catch your breath at the snack table. You take a sip of your drink, eyes landing on Gina and EJ, who are very obviously arguing. You nudge Ricky, motioning over to them.

“What are they saying? Wrong answers only.” 

He considers, then begins to narrate in his best EJ impression. 

“Ugh, Gina! Stop moving! I haven’t posted on instagram in 35 seconds and blurry so doesn’t fit my theme.”

You try to stifle the loud, beautiful laugh that brings warmth to his cheeks and a smile to his lips as your eyes lock, sharing a look so close he never wants to look away. 

“I said wrong answers only…” you say through muffled giggles. He stares at you, fixated. He’s blinded by your warmth, your beauty, and he can’t look away from you. His attention is snapped back to where it had been when you gasp dramatically, shock written all over your face. He follows your gaze to EJ, who’s dripping with punch, and Gina, who’s storming away from him.

“...Oh my god.” you say, already dissolving into laughter again, Ricky following suit. 

Soon you’re dancing again, pressed up against each other, swaying gently to the oldies playing softly over the speakers. Ricky can feel your body heat, smell your shampoo, and the way it mixes with your sweet peachy perfume. You smell so good, he thinks he could probably get high off you alone. His hand rests firmly on your back, holding you close to him, and his fingertips brush over the exposed skin peeking out over the straps of your dress. He traces your shoulder blades, your spine, feeling how close together your hearts are beating. One of your arms is wrapped around him, your head resting on his shoulder. Both your free hands are intertwined, and he loves the feeling of your fingers intertwining with his. He’s steeped in a hazy sort of ecstasy, spurred further on by your warm little breaths tickling his neck. 

He lets out a soft sigh, more content than he’s probably ever been. He feels you smile against his blazer when he traces the outline of the back of your dress. You hum softly to the music, singing along to a few of the words. He’s not surprised that you know this song, of course you would know a song this pretty and romantic. He hopes he’ll remember to ask you the name of it later. Dancing, he realizes, isn’t just fun - it’s amazing. He loves dancing. He loves dancing with you. After a few moments, he realizes there’s not many people on the dance floor. He doesn’t get why so many guys don’t like slow dancing; when you really love someone, isn’t any reason to hold them close to you a good one? He thinks it is. His heart flutters when you let out a breathy sigh against his skin.

You adjust your head on Ricky’s shoulder, watching Carlos across the room. He looks so… melancholic. You should go check on him. And Gina. And probably EJ. Christ, tonight has been a lot. You adjust your head again, facing towards him. 

“We should check on Gina,” you say reluctantly, murmuring into his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. He loves when you do that, loves how you know when people are hurting and what to do about it. But right now, he really, really does not want to let go of you for anyone or anything. Maybe it’s selfish, he thinks, maybe it’s selfish for wanting you all to himself like this, but he just can’t bring himself to let go of you yet. Maybe he deserves to be a little selfish sometimes. Maybe he should just give himself permission to do whatever makes him feel better. He holds you tighter, face burying into your neck. 

“After this song,” he breathes, eyes fluttering closed in your embrace. You nod gently.

“Okay,” you agree, voice so low he can barely hear it. 

Eventually the final piano chords sound, and he holds you tight as the last few, painfully bittersweet notes reverberate through the room. The song ends, and he lets go of you slower and more reluctantly than he’s done anything. 

You sigh, tracing your hands on his shoulders, slowly coming out of that cozy trance like state you’ve been in together.

“Okay,” you start, “let’s split up. I’ll check on Carlos, you can check on Gina, and I’ll have Ashlyn check on EJ cause they’re cousins.” 

He agrees, hit with a sudden wave of nerves about the confrontation. You can sense his hesitation.

“What should I say?” he asks, with a chuckle. He’d told you about how he warned Gina about EJ earlier in the evening, which you had agreed was totally the right move. He told you how she seemed irritable after the interaction, and wondered if he’d done anything wrong, if he could have handled it better. “I don’t think so”, you had said with a sad shrug, “some people just refuse to acknowledge the person they’re dating is kind of shitty.” 

You’re right, he realized, now ready to approach this with more compassion and less confrontation. You think for a second, then reply.

“You can apologize if what you said before came off wrong, that you didn’t mean anything bad by it.” 

“Okay,” he nods.

“And try to relate to her - you’re new to theatre, she’s new to east high, you gotta stick together, you know?”

“Right.” 

You send him a thumbs up as you part ways, looking for Carlos. After chatting with Carlos, he left to get some water. You see Ricky approaching you through the crowd, and stand up from your table, meeting him halfway.

“How’d it go?” you ask. He seems hesitant.

“She asked for a ride home.” Your eyes go wide with understanding. He knew you’d get what’s going on, you always know just what to do. 

“Oh, dude, the last thing she probably wants right now is to get in a car with EJ.” Ricky thinks that’s the last thing anyone would want. “If you want you can give her a ride, then come back and we can keep dancing.” He smiles, and agrees. Any plan that ends with dancing with you more sounds like a good plan to him. You quickly fill him in on how things are going with the Carlos/Seb situation in spite of its anticlimactic nature - no one can get a hold of Seb, and Carlos is really, really regretting this whole thing. You and Ashlyn are going to try and hype him up and turn the night around for him so it’s not a totally horrible memory to look back on, and Ricky agrees that’s a good plan. 

“I’ll be back really soon so I can help you guys out,” he says, hoping to extend the conversation a little, to stand close to you and talk confidentially with you just a little more. You smile, looking relieved at his support, and it makes his heart flutter. You touch his arm, sending him a knowing look.

“We need all the help we can get, so thank you.” you state with a chuckle. He tries not to be obvious, but he knows he can’t hide his flushed cheeks and dilated pupils. He hopes you don’t notice. 

You really didn’t expect to be the glue holding everyone together tonight, but you love your friends, so you’re not complaining. After a lengthy conversation with Carlos about how amazing he is regardless of who he is or isn’t seeing, and that there will be so many guys throwing themselves at him after high school, you finally get him out of his funk a little. You were about to go dance together and have a good time, because he shouldn’t let anything ruin his homecoming, when Natalie scurried over to you holding the side of her dress. 

“It snagged on the back of a chair and my whole leg is out, Angelina Jolie style.” She says in a rush, clearly getting more freaked out. You and Carlos share a look.

“It’s okay,” you say gently, “I have a sewing kit in my bag and I can have you fixed up in two minutes flat.” You look over at Carlos again, making sure he’ll be okay. He confirms silently, nudging you two towards the doors. 

“You go fix this wardrobe malfunction,” he says, already trying to pull out of the funk he’d been stuck in all night, “I’m going to warm up the dance floor. When you get back, get ready to dance your heart out.” 

He’s not all the way there, but he’s trying. You both agree, and you send him one last encouraging look before moving carefully to the hallway, trying not to let Natalie’s dress rip any more than it already is. You look back one last time as you pass through the doors, and finally, Carlos is out on the dance floor. You smile, excited to dance with him once you get back.

“God, I wish I had my hamster right now…” Natalie mutters, and you know if she needs her emotional support hamster, it’s pretty bad. 

A few minutes later, you have your sewing kit and Natalie’s dress is back to its former glory. She has on a fresh coat of lip gloss, just finished showing you pictures of her hamster, and is ready to head back out. You stay behind to touch up your makeup a little, telling her you’ll be right behind her.  As you’re walking back out, someone turns the corner at the other end of the hallway. You freeze in place, eyes growing wide as they land on none other than Seb. He smiles nervously, raising a hand to wave at you. Before he can, you let out a shocked squeak, scurrying back into the gym. His heart sinks. He hopes you don’t hate him, and he’s really worried Carlos is going to. 

When you enter, you see Carlos dancing his heart out. You don’t have time to be relieved, weaving your way through the crowd to Mr. Mazzara. You slam your hands on the table, avoiding the sound and light equipment he’s managing. 

“Mr. Mazzara!” He looks up at you, startled, as you begin to explain in a rush. He looks at you, a pleading puppy dog look written on your face, and sighs. 

“I suppose that’s fine…” he says, making a few adjustments to the switch board in front of him. 

“Thank you!” you say quietly, before running onto the dance floor. Carlos is finally in his element. He dances beautifully to the music, free and expressive. Right when the beat drops, a circle of spotlights go up. One lands on him, the other lands across the room on Seb, and they lock eyes in a moment that can only be described as magical. Ashlyn looks at the scene, straight out of a movie, then over to you. You high five her. 

“Nice!” she whispers. You can see it between them, the energy, the chemistry, the electricity. You look at Ashlyn, nodding toward your table. You both sit down, giving them some time to talk and catch up. You try to be subtle as you watch them talk, not close enough to eavesdrop, but watching their expressions, gaging how it's going. They're smiling, then they're laughing, and soon they're dancing together. It's going well, you think. You can't wait for Carlos to fill you in later. 

Sitting in Gina's driveway, a surprisingly more comfortable energy in the air than either of them had expected, Ricky tries to think of how to say what he wants to say. 

"Not quite the evil mansion with wrought-iron and gargoyles you were picturing?" She asks, a hopeful playfulness to her voice. She almost sounds nervous. 

"What? No…" he says. The comment takes him by surprise, snapping him back to attention. "...Well maybe some gargoyles." His joking tone and comforting energy has her giggling. She doesn't remember the last time she giggled. She feels his eyes on her, and tries not to look over at him. She does anyway. 

"You're not that bad, you know." He muses. She tries to control her breathing. She doesn't say anything. 

"Also," he continues, looking back over at the windshield, "I should thank you for that night at the skatepark, keeping me in the show. It means a lot, it's… a really big deal to me." He looks up and left at the top of the car window, mind already wandering about how if he had quit, he never would have gotten close to you like this, never would have fallen in… your arms the way he had that night. He can't imagine you not being in his life, and he has Gina to thank in part for that. He feels a sense of gratitude blooming for her. They talk a little more, and the feeling grows; Gina really is not that bad. He can feel a friendly bond growing between them, a sense of comradery. 

"So… now is probably a good time to ask about the whole drink thing," he starts with a chuckle. She ducks her head, equal parts embarrassed at her actions, and that he saw her at such a low moment. She lets out a sigh. The gesture reminds him of something you might do. He thinks you two would be good friends. He’s already imagining what you’ll say when he fills you in on all this, he’s excited to get your opinion. 

“...My mom moves around a lot for work. Like, a lot…” 

Once she starts, she can’t stop, and it’s not long before she’s unintentionally spilled her guts and her life story to him. She wishes she could stop talking, but it’s like she totally lost her filter with him. She’s always been so reserved, so calculated, and now she doesn’t even have time to think before the words are already spilling out. It’s a new feeling, being so candid with someone, and an unsettling one. 

She risks a glance over at Ricky, who’s just… listening to her. Taking in what she says. That somehow makes her more nervous than if he’d just ignored her or told her to shut up already. She wishes someone would tell her to shut up, she wishes she could. She finally gets to the end of her never ending stream of consciousness, and she’s stunned as they sit in the silence, Ricky really absorbing her words, her feelings. He reaches over and grabs her hand, giving it an encouraging squeeze before letting go - a mannerism he picked up from you. Heat floods her chest, prickly and almost painful, hyper aware of where his skin just touched hers.

“You know, you-” She’ll never know what he was going to say, his words are cut short by the porch lights flashing through the windshield. Gina’s stomach sinks. She doesn’t want to go inside yet. She doesn’t want this moment to be over, but she has to listen to her mom. She reaches for the door, then hesitates. She turns back to Ricky, desperate to try one more time, to put herself out there, to plant some roots. 

“I meant what I said at the skate park… about you having your own style.” 

He smiles, looking down with a breathy chuckle. His leg is bouncing slightly, he can’t wait to get back to school and dance with you more, spend the rest of this magical night with you. 

“Thank you, that’s-” He’s cut off again, this time by the kiss Gina presses to his cheek. She’s out of the car and inside before he can look at her face. She holds her coat tight around her against the chilly rain beginning to drizzle down, and a second later, the front door closes and she’s inside.He lets out another chuckle, different this time. ‘That was weird.’ He thinks. He barely has the thought before his stomach drops, a sick, cold fear clutching him. What if you find out Gina kissed him? What if you find out and you hate him, what if he breaks your heart into a million pieces without trying? Or worse, what if you lose interest in him because you think he likes Gina? He can feel himself panicking at the idea, unable to stop the onslaught of all too real feeling anxieties wracking his mind, creating a pit in his stomach as he peels out of the driveway and makes his way back to school. 

No, no, that’s not going to happen. He’s not going to lose you because he’s not able to express how much he cares about you. He’s not going to let that happen. Trying to hold this panic at bay, he pulls out his phone as he walks through the parking lot towards the school again. How to show someone you love them. He types the words into google, skimming article titles, reddit threads, quora responses, until he finds himself at the gym doors. He sees you across the room, dancing in a group with Carlos, Ashlyn, Natalie, and Seb. ‘Oh, Seb’s here. That’s good,’ he thinks, a momentary relief that at least one or two fires had been put out tonight. He spots Big Red on the opposite side of the room, and makes his way over to him carefully, trying not to be seen by you. He can’t be around you until he figures this out, he can’t hurt you like this. 

Ricky approaches Big Red with an intense energy he has trouble reading, before Ricky starts to speak. 

“Dude,” he says, voice intense and hushed, “Gina kissed me on the cheek.” 

“That’s great!” 

“No, it’s not!” Ricky says, clearly very frazzled. Okay, that’s where this is going. 

“That’s awful!” Red course corrects as Ricky fills him in on the car ride with Gina. As he tells Red everything that happened, Ricky finds himself kind of hating Gina right now. Why would she do this to him, why would she put him in this position? Does she hate him or something? He thinks she must, there’s no other reason for her to sabotage his relationship with you like this. She must hate him if she’s trying to ruin the most important thing in his life. 

“Listen, I really, really like her…” his eyes keep flicking over to you, gaze magnetized by your presence, “like, a lot. How can I make sure I don’t fuck this up? Because I can not fuck up with her.”

“Woah, man,” Red starts, trying to help Ricky ground himself a little, “chill out. In all fairness, cheek kisses can be platonic.” 

“Right,” Ricky nods, starting to feel assured, and Red continues. 

“So, if Gina wants to date you when you’re… kind of seeing someone, she has to make that more clear to you.”

“Right.” Ricky states, agreeing. He really hopes she doesn’t. 

“I think you’re okay,” Red says, sensing his energy changing already, “just make sure she knows how much you like her. Make it really, objectively obvious.” 

Yeah. He just has to make it obvious. 

“Yeah, you’re right,” he says to Red, his eyes locked on you as you laugh at something Carlos says, making his stomach twist and tingle, “I just have to make sure she knows how much… I like her.” 

Red watches him make his way over to you, a spring in his step and a plan in his mind. Thank god for Dr. Phil, Red thinks, or else there’s no way he’d be able to help his friends navigate all their drama. He chuckles at the thought, watching Ashlyn fix the strap of your dress. 

Ricky checks his phone one more time on the way over, looking over a chart of love languages one more time. He’s not sure what your love language is, so he’ll just have to try all of them and see what you seem to like best. Gift giving and acts of service aren’t really options right now, so tonight he’ll focus on words of affirmation, physical touch, and quality time. If he has to drown you in all five love languages at once to make sure you know how he feels about you, he will. 

“Hey,” he starts, watching your reaction nervously, scared you somehow already hate him. You turn around at the sound of his voice, eyes lighting up. 

“Hey!” you smile, “You’re back!” you grab his arm, pulling him in closer to the group. 

“Seb’s here,” you say, and he smiles, relieved at your reaction. 

“Hey, man,” he smiles. 

“Fill me in later,” you say quietly, referring to giving Gina a ride, and he nods, a little bit ready to forget the whole thing. 

Now that all the drama, wardrobe malfunctions, and late entrances are out of the way, you and what remains of your friends spend the rest of the night like you intended; dancing, laughing, and taking great pictures together. Later on into the night, everyone’s just about had their fill of fun and the party starts winding down. You split up, most of your friends piling into the Salt Lake slices delivery van so Red can drop them off. After some more hugs and laughs, you finally part ways, climbing into the passenger seat of his orange Volkswagen Beetle. 

His heart is thumping as you grab his hand and squeeze it a little once you’re on your way back to his house, causing a fresh wave of heat to rise to his face, and god he's nervous right now. His mind is still screaming at him that you're going to hate him, that he has to prove his feelings to you. He lets out a small little laugh at the gesture. 

“Well,” you start, tired from the night, but thriving off the energy between you, “that could have gone way worse…” 

“Yeah,” he laughs, nodding in agreement. You talk for the whole drive back to his place. You’d planned on staying over tonight since Ricky was driving and you figured it would be late, plus your mom’s car is at the mechanic so she’s using yours until some time tomorrow. You exchange sleepy chuckles as he parks. He checks his phone one more time as you leave the car, opening an article of women submitting stories about how they knew a guy loved them in a new tab. He sees a text from his dad - the date went well, he hopes Ricky and you had a good time at homecoming, and he’s going to bed so try to keep the noise down when you get back. 

“My dad’s asleep,” he says softly, unlocking the door. He guides you inside, hand resting low on your back, and closes the door quietly behind him. Walking quietly from his foyer to his room shouldn’t have been a problem, but standing in the darkness with Ricky, you both suddenly find it hard not to start giggling. Hushing each other, you quickly sneak up the stairs past Mr. Bowen’s room, down the hall to Ricky’s room. He barely closes the door and flicks the lock closed before dissolving into giggles. You kick off your heels, glad to finally take them off, and grab a makeup wipe from your bag. He digs through his clothes for a second before handing you a big t-shirt to sleep in. 

“Thanks,” you say, throwing away the makeup wipes. He gazes at you, watching you transition from formal and made up to casual and comfortable, your beauty unwavering. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen anyone as pretty as you before. You watch him take off his jacket and tie, and undo the first button or two of his shirt. The action sends butterflies to your stomach and heat to your core. You glance away. You stand up, seeing if you can reach the zipper of your dress. Before you can ask, you feel Ricky behind you. 

“Need some help with that?” He asks, closer to your ear than you’d expected and resting his hands on your waist. You both chuckle.

“Yeah,” you state, voice low and soft. He moves slowly, unzipping the back of your dress, careful not to snag the delicate fabric. You feel the bodice loosen around you, the end of the zipper stopping at the small of your back. He doesn’t move away. You can feel his breath fan over your shoulder, hand still resting on your waist. 

His face is so close to yours, and he mutters your name softly before pressing a kiss to your jawline, then another and another. He moves down, burying his face in your neck as he continues to press hot, open mouthed kisses against your skin. He breathes in your perfume, peachy and sweet and intoxicating. He nips at your neck causing you to gasp, his hands moving below the draping fabric and directly onto your warm skin. You sigh at the contact. He pulls you closer to him, holding you tight as he sucks on your neck. Your dress is slipping off your shoulders, barely on at all anymore, as he begins to feel you up, touching you and caressing you so tenderly. 

“Ricky,” you sigh. Your voice sounds so pretty when you’re like this. 

“God, I-” he breathes, barely catching the words before they’re out. He lets out a nervous laugh, causing you to giggle in his grasp. He shushes you through his own laughter, his hands never ceasing the way they rome over your body. 

"We have to be quiet," he says, turning you around in his arms, pressing himself up against you, trying so, so hard not to kiss you yet. 

"I can be quiet…" you state, a jokingly incredulous tone in your voice. You stare each other down, and he tries not to break first, tries not to smile or laugh, but god, it’s impossible not to smile when he looks at you. Before he can crack, before he loses all composure and bares his soul for you, places his heart eternally in your hands to do as you please with, he pivots. 

"Yeah?" He asks, and you feel the energy change, growing electric between you. "Is that a challenge?"

His tone is dangerous and he watches your eyes get wide. A second later he has you pinned against his mattress, pressing playful nips and kisses against your skin as muffled giggles and sighs escape your pretty mouth. His hands move down, grabbing your exposed skin as he kisses you harder and harder, riling the both of you up. You tear off the little remaining clothes either of you has on and he begins to roll his hips against you, grinding his hot, throbbing member against your heat. You let out a breathy moan, louder than before, as he continues to rock his hips against yours. 

“That wasn’t very quiet,” he murmurs into your ear between kisses to your cheek and jawline. Your chest vibrates against his, and a wave of relief washes through him. You don’t hate him. He loves that feeling he gets when he makes you laugh, he wants to make you do it again. 

“I can stay quiet,” you insist, already swept away by his touch, distracted by the warm kisses and bites he’s planting on your neck and chest. You’re even more distracted by the feeling of his fingers making their way down, brushing against your clit as they come into contact with the arousal dripping down your folds. He smiles, realizing if he can get you this turned on, this touchy, you must like him. He pushes his fingers in, finally met again with the cathartic feeling of your cushy, bumpy walls squeezing and folding around him. Arousal gushes, dripping down his fingers as he begins to stimulate the tight, sensitive muscles stretching around his fingers. He dwells on the feeling for a moment, maybe two, before you’re moaning again. It makes him laugh. 

“I sure hope you can,” he says, another dangerously playful look on his face, “cause if you get too loud…” He watches you for a split second, hanging on his words, anticipation written across your face, “I’m gonna stop.” 

Your stomach flip flops, exploding with butterflies at his words. Before you can look at his face, before you can gauge how serious he is about following through on his threat, his lips are on yours again. He kisses you, mouth open, tongue already prodding into your mouth. You’re lucky, you think, that he’s unintentionally muffling your noises with his mouth. You’re really lucky, because he quickly finds your g-spot, and there are a couple moans you couldn’t hold back if your life depended on it.

Every sigh, every gasp, every beautiful heart pounding moan Ricky elicits from you sends a fresh wave of relief and reassurance through him. You don’t hate him, and you’re not going to. You could never when he’s this good, this devoted to you. It’s impossible for him not to be when you’re so good to him. You’re so responsive to his touch, you’re totally on the same wavelength. 

You must know what he’s telling you through his actions, through the way he looks at you, the words he’s had to bite back from spilling out more than once. You wouldn’t be dripping down his fingers and moaning into his mouth and grabbing at him like this, you wouldn’t be in his bed if you didn’t feel the way he does about you - or even something close to it. He’ll happily take whatever you want to give him. Of course he wants it all, he wants to completely take over your heart, but just a little bit will keep him happy until he can.

“Right there,” you whine against his lips, “fuck, just like that… feels so good…” you mutter. 

‘See?’ he thinks, ‘You don’t say stuff like that if you don’t like someone a lot, much less moan it…’ 

It’s working. His plan to not lose you is working, he just has to make you cum so hard you can’t think straight, as many times as possible. And he’s going to, because there’s no way he can risk losing you. So he brings up his thumb, rubbing it over your clit as he curls his fingers against your gummy walls. It’s euphoric and overwhelming, and you barely have time to tug his hair before you’re cumming and pulsing around his fingers. 

You squeeze and clamp tight around him, and he can’t resist anymore. He needs his tongue inside you, he needs to taste you, feel you squeeze his tongue and cream into his mouth. So he pulls away, already missing the feeling of your mouths against each other, and gazes at you, breath fanning across your cheeks, eyes locked. He takes you in, thumb caressing your cheek while the other continues to fondle your clit. After a moment he’s able to break his gaze away, and he moves down, pushing your legs open. You heart thumps in your chest in anticipation as he begins to lick and suck on your heat, tongue flicking into your drippy hole. 

As soon as he gets a taste, he wants more. He stretches out his tongue, going to town on your cunt. Every sigh and tug of his hair, every attempt to muffle your moans makes him more eager to have you gush your sweet sticky cum all over him. This time he has some experience, and he’s making the most of it. He finds those spots inside you that make your eyes roll back, switching between them, bumping his nose against your clit, drawing stifled moan after stifled moan from you. One slips out, for real this time, and he pauses. It takes all his willpower; your scent is intoxicating and your taste is addictive, but the look on your face when you realize he’s standing by what he said is totally worth it. 

“I told you,” he murmurs against your core, the vibrations and tone of his voice sending electricity through you, “we have to be quiet…” Your hand is clamped over your mouth, and you nod. Your timing couldn’t be better, because you don’t have time to finish the gesture before he dives back in. After that, it doesn’t take much to send you over the edge. 

You give him everything he’s wanted all night, squeezing and gushing all over him while he laps up everything, holding down your hips while he shoves his tongue deeper inside you. It’s always surprising how far inside you he’s able to get it. You whine and moan, choking out praise as he already begins building up another high. He’s throbbing, desperate for anything you’ll give him, and he wants to make you say more shit like that. He wants to be good for you. 

“Oh god- fuck, Ricky!” you choke out in a whisper, one hand tangled in his hair, the other clamped over your mouth. You’re already close again, he can feel it. He knew this would work. He knew he could prove to you how much you mean to him. He doubles his efforts, squeezing your thighs and grinding his face against your pussy, still dripping from the last times he made you cum. His eyes are half lidded and locked on you, watching your face, the way you squirm below his touch, the way your tits bounce with every movement. You’re not sure how long it is until he has you absolutely gushing and convulsing around his tongue again, but every moment is filled with ecstasy. 

“Fuck you’re good at that…” you murmur, hand now playing with his hair instead of pulling it. “You’re one of the good ones, huh?” 

You probably could have knocked him out with a feather. Your words reverberate in his mind, and his cheeks flush. One of the good ones. Yeah. 

He’s throbbing harder than before, almost painfully turned on. He climbs back up over you, but before he can reach into his nightstand for a condom, you flip him over, straddling him. You look down at him with those beautiful eyes that hold every star in the night sky, biting your lip in that endearing way of yours. Your hands are warm on his shoulders, and he’s stunned at the suddenness of your action, and really eager to see where you’re going with this. He could watch you like this for hours, freezing this moment in time forever, eternally content with you, the way you touch him and look at him. You lean down closer to him, breath tickling his cheeks. 

“My turn.” 

You smile, the words coming out in a hushed giggle. Before he can blink, you’re grabbing his rock hard cock, squeezing it in your hands and teasing the tip as you spread around the precum already dripping down the side. He watches you, eyes wide and excited as you open your mouth, wrapping your lips around him. Your mouth is velvety soft, warm and wet, and he has to try not to cum on the spot. You pump the base of his cock, taking more of him in your mouth, and he tries not to buck his hips. He tries so hard not to move at all, tries to be good for you while you work your magic on him. He lets out a long, low moan. Suddenly you freeze, popping your lips off with a small wet noise as you look up at him. 

“Stay quiet or I stop…” you tease, throwing his own conditions back at him. He nods, panting at your words. “Good boy.” You murmur under your breath, but he definitely hears. Good boy. He can feel the oxytocin flooding his brain, and you barely get your lips around him and start bobbing your head before he feels it.

“I’m close,” he chokes out, and you look up at him. He watches a smirk appear at the corners of your eyes before you drag your tongue along the bottom of his cock. It’s more than enough, and he watches in utter awe as he shoots his load into your mouth, and you swallow all of it. The sight is enough to have him throbbing again. He bites back more moans, desperate for you to keep going, for you to call him a good boy again. You bob your head along his length, tongue dragging along the vein on the underside of his cock. 

One hand comes down to fondle his balls, and a choked moan slips out. He never knew he could feel this good. He never knew one person could make him like this. You continue to lick and suck, squeeze and pump and rub, and soon he’s fighting another orgasm, hoping to bask in the feeling of your mouth around him for just a little longer. His prayers are in vain, he realizes, as he shoots another load of sticky, salty cum into your mouth. You have no trouble taking this one either. You continue to suck and lick, riding out the last of his high, before finally releasing him with a soft pop. 

Thoroughly fucked out, he watches you climb up next to him, awestruck. You grab a blanket, pulling it over the both of you, and moving his face to press a few more kisses to his lips. Your tastes mingle as your tongues connect, and Ricky doesn’t think he’s ever tasted something that delicious. He wants more of it. It’s only when you eventually pull away that your eyes land on the clock behind him. 

“Christ, it’s late,” you murmur. You blink heavily, Ricky mirroring the action, and you trace your thumb over his cheek, just looking at him a little longer. You tug the blanket up a little higher, snuggling up next to him. He holds you close on instinct, still trying to process everything that happened tonight in spite of how exhausted he is. It hits him suddenly, and he struggles to stay awake so he can appreciate the kiss you press to his jaw, the warm feeling of your hand on his chest.

He tries so hard to stay awake, to look at you for a little while, because no amount of time with you feels like enough. He refuses to acknowledge the heavy way he blinks and squeezes his eyes, trying to force them to focus on you, but he can feel himself losing the fight against the deep sleep he’s about to slip into. This night was a success, he thinks. He did a good job.

Late morning sunlight streams through his window, finally dragging Ricky back into the waking world. He looks over, missing your presence, and finds his bed empty. As he rolls over, he’s struck by the sweet, intoxicating scent of your peachy perfume. It’s all over his pillow, his sheets, his blankets. His whole room smells faintly of your scent. He buries his nose in the pillow where you’d slept, breathing it in, taking him right back to last night. 

Eventually, he checks his phone. It’s later than he’d expected, but he’s greeted with a text from you, bringing an immediate, even bigger smile to his face. 

He sighs, lovestruck. He doesn’t want to get out of bed, doesn’t want the scent of your perfume to fade. He just wants to bask in it. 

[dump-o-whump]

Red Market — 3.5: Hanahaki Disease

this is not canon :) (also @augustwritingchallenge)

content: begging, death wish, immortal/healing whumpee, sadistic whumper, no-holds-barred beatdown, punches, interrogation (kinda?), implied stockholm syndrome, hanahaki (obviously /lh), vomit, fever whump, use of ‘owner’ ‘master’ and ‘sir’, bbu, pet whump

•

Leo had been sick all week. He hated it. His new owner did, too — he wouldn’t stop complaining about how he hated giving Leo recovery time. Leo, on the other hand, couldn’t stop thinking about Master. He would have given him recovery time and been happy about it. He would have given him whatever he wanted. God, Leo would kill to be with him again. He missed it more than anything.

Just as he thought this, he felt himself start to throw up, and leant over the rusting bucket his new owner had given him. He shut his eyes and winced.

Tried to think of Master. Not the new one — that would only make it worse — but his old one. The kind one. The one who would stroke his hair after he’d hurt him, hold him close, and love him. Master.

When he was done, he collapsed, limbs weak and shaky. It wasn’t until he strongly smelt flowers that he got up again. To his dismay, he smelt it coming from the bucket. He looked inside hesitantly.

He saw what he smelt. Roses, daffodils, peonies, daisies, foxgloves — flowers. Their petals littered the floor around him and the bucket. He felt a tingle in his throat and coughed up more, holding them with a shaking hand. Tears of fear and denial welled in his eyes.

“S-Sir,” Leo muttered, crawling to the door of his cell, “Something… s-something is wrong.”

His new master immediately appeared, as if he was waiting by the door. He knelt down and stuck a hand through the bars to harshly grab Leo’s face. Leo instinctively jerked away. “Yeah, it is.”

“I know. I-I’m sorry. But… there’s… there’s something wrong. I’ve b-been throwing up flo…” He choked out a sob on the word, “s-something else, Sir.”

“‘Something else’?” His owner looked perplexed. He thought for a second, before saying, “Move.”

It made Leo even more sick to his stomach, but he did as the man asked, shuffling away from the door as he opened it. His master stepped into the room and made a beeline for the bucket.

“This smells like shit. You’re gonna be cleaning this up when you’re done being sick.”

“Yes, Sir.” Leo replied, eyes half-lidded.

There was a silence for a few seconds. A few peaceful, blissful seconds, in which Leo fell asleep sitting up in his exhaustion.

Those few seconds did not last long.

“I cannot believe you.” His new owner hissed, turning to Leo at neck-breaking speed. He strode over to him with a rose in his hand and a glare on his face.

“Yes, S- what?” Leo locked eyes with him hesitantly.

“Who the fuck is this about?” He crushed the rose between his fingers and threw the remainder of it at Leo, who flinched away with a pathetic whimper that he immediately regretted. “Who? Come on, go on, you defiant little shit! Tell me who you’ve got this little crush on! This is why you’re so sick? Fucking hell!”

“N-No, Sir, I’m sorry! I-I’m sorry, I d-didn’t mean to, I didn’t… it’s not my fault!”

“I don’t give a shit who’s fault it is!” He grabbed Leo by the throat and squeezed. Leo struggled desperately as he felt the air drain from his lungs. He clawed desperately at his new master’s hands, wordlessly begging for release. “You think I’ve never seen hanahaki before? You don’t think I know? I know everything about you! You haven’t got a chance.”

Leo hardly knew what Sir was talking about. He could feel his eyes closing, his brain slowly stopping its panic, everything being covered in a dull blanket of calm. Sir’s voice was draining out in the background of his exhaustion.

“Wake the fuck up!”

He suddenly snapped back to life as Sir dropped him to the ground, undoing his grip and leaving him a desperate gasping heap on the cold ground. Everything went black for a second, and it faded back into Sir- his new master hitting him.

He felt like his head was being bashed around his skull. His new master was giving him uppercut after uppercut. Unimaginable pain sparked through his jaw. He bit down on his tongue in his half-consciousness and sent it flying out of his mouth. There was a white-hot shock of pain in his mouth as that happened, sharp as a knife. He managed a sob.

“Are you ready to fucking tell me?”

Yes, Leo wanted to scream, Yes! It’s my old master, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please fucking stop-

But he couldn’t. Sir punched him in the gut and sent him doubling over, spewing flower petals and vomit across the room. It hurt. He let out hoarded and choked sobs with every hit too his chest. He had been winded so much he couldn’t breathe, so he hyperventilated desperately between the broken sobs.

Sir dropped him and started to kick. One foot stomped on his lungs, the other kicked in his head. All Leo could do was pray he would die when Sir was finished. The thought shocked him, but he didn’t care.

Please, kill me. I want to die. I want to fucking die.

Sir finally, finally let up.

Leo couldn’t even think for a few seconds. He panted and cried and shook, entire body convulsing in agony. His body healed supernaturally, sure, but the sun didn’t. It was agony. Everything hurt. He couldn’t do this.

“Who is it?” Sir practically snarled. “Tell me or it’s time for round two.”

“…o-old master,” Leo whispered despite his tongue. “S… stop,” he added, uselessly.

“I knew it.” Sir said. He didn’t sound surprised. He paused for a second to look over Leo with a condescending glare, before turning on his heels and leaving the room. “I’ll fucking kill you.” He promised as he slammed the door.

Please do.

Leo didn’t know what to do with himself. After a pause, he lay down on the scratchy blanket and curled into the foetus position.

And he stayed like that. For seven hours.

He had stopped going to the bucket when he needed to throw up by now. For the first few hours he did, but now he didn’t feel the need. He just retched into his hand and threw the plants over his shoulder.

All he did was sob and shake and beg. He knew Sir wasn’t there and he didn’t care. He begged anyway. Begged for help, begged for death, begged for a way out.

Begged.

•

i kinda love this for some reason even though it was finished at 1:52am on the 12th and it’s almost certainly got some grammar mistakes or something nonsensical in it lmao

taglist: @whumpsday

[daggryet]

yes i agree!! the conversation with dream on the obsidian is so creepy but it gets overshadowed by all the techno vs tommy discourse!

very /lh but i’ll never forgive them for centering doomsday around c!tommy and c!technoblade’s conflict

1) it doesn’t make sense, as @/shrugofgod pointed out after transcribing the community house scene, c!technoblade felt betrayed by c!tommy but he also said that anarchy was about freedom to choose - and c!tommy had chosen, and c!technoblade respects him for it.

and now that lyssie has been so nice as to transcribe here’s that quote: “i had my plan to destroy the government, i explained my reasons, i’ve been like i’m destroying it because of a, b, c, they executed me, they betrayed me, you betrayed me— you know what, tommy? you’ve made a decision today that can’t be undone. and you know what? i respect you, tommy. you know, you’re free to make your own choices, wrong as they are. that’s what anarchy is about. It’s about freedom. to do what you want.”

and then he leaves. there’s nothing in this closing statement that should lead to more conflict between the two based on this “betrayal” - because c!tommy has already apologised earlier, several times - and this is the last of them “…technoblade, i know what i’ve done, and i hate me for it… i’m sorry.”

the conflict is over there! yes, they’re not best friends and c!technoblade feels betrayed, as he should - c!tommy switched sides and left c!technoblade alone in front of 30 people. but c!tommy had always said he’d never destroy l’manberg or hurt c!tubbo - and he sticks to this. and c!technoblade has acknowledged that he is allowed to make that decision, as that is what anarchy is about.

and c!technoblade’s definition of anarchy is the reason he’s doing this - making it about the conflict between c!tommy and c!technoblade undermines c!technoblade’s speeches about ideology and corruption because by focusing on c!tommy - it becomes not about anarchy, but revenge and punishment. narratively speaking, it only works against c!technoblade to focus on c!tommy, and not c!quackity and c!tubbo - the people in charge of his execution and c!phil’s house arrest.

there's also the matter of the quote "i'm a person!" where it's meant to show that c!tommy doesn't think of c!technoblade as a person, despite there never ever being a hint towards that in the previous streams. c!tommy was the one in the bedrock bros team up who actually asserted their friendship, while c!technoblade was the one who only acknowledged c!tommy's worth after he'd given into violence and tortured c!connor for information. c!technoblade describes seeing him as a tool but now that c!tommy is useful - he sees him as something close to a friend. even after c!tommy turns to c!tubbo, as i said above, c!tommy does his best to show his friendly and well meaning intentions to c!technoblade; and again, c!technoblade acknowledges c!tommy's right to do what he did.

making c!tommy c!technoblade's bad guy on doomsday does not make sense when the people who executed c!technoblade sans trial are right there

2.) it’d have continued from c!quackity and c!technoblade’s battle after the execution where c!technoblade took one of c!quackity's canon lives after he'd failed to take one of c!technoblade's. and - with absolutely no disrespect - cc!quackity is one of the best people on the server to improv speeches. just look at his conversation with c!dream after the bombing of mexican l’manberg: he’s so good. a lot of the reason why c!tommy’s lines during doomsday gets ignored is because they’re not the kind of iconic quotes that c!technoblade uses in his speeches; had the focus been on c!quackity instead, then there’d actually be an interesting conversation about power, about anarchy.

c!technoblade would have been challenged, instead of just shouting quote worthy one liners over the crater that in the context doesn't make sense with who he's shouting it at (c!tommy)

as i said, it also derails the entire premise of doomsday on c!technoblade’s behalf because if it’s not focused at the group that came to his house, threatened him, held him to justice for his actions but without a trial, and then executed him - but is instead focused on the person he took in, who he knew was running from c!dream, and had multiple panic attacks in front of him, and then chose his home, a decision c!technoblade respected? it’s suddenly not anywhere near about anarchy anymore - and that may be intentional, but i doubt it as no one has ever acknowledged that.

3.) the fact that c!tommy facing off with his abuser, face to face, begging him to explain why he couldn’t just have punished c!tommy - is not the primary conflict for c!tommy’s character that day, is so icky to me.

yes, a lot of the pain that day came from seeing his home being destroyed, seeing “what’s left of wilbur, the Real wilbur” getting destroyed; but the pain for c!tommy is especially rooted in the fact that home, and returning home, was something he held onto throughout exile. it was somewhere he was forbidden from ever returning to; and that was because of c!dream.

doomsday being remembered for c!technoblade and c!tommy yelling at each other across the crater that once was l’manberg over a conflict that had already been...resolved; and not the fact that c!dream admitted to seeing c!tommy as his toy, that he destroyed l’manberg because he found it fun, and that c!tommy’s first statement to c!dream had been “you did this, not just to me, but to everyone. why couldn’t you just have done it to me?” - it doesn’t sit right with me.

it was also c!tommy giving c!dream the disc that even set off doomsday because c!dream had been waiting for that before he went after l’manberg. having the disc meant that there were only two things left that c!tommy was genuinely attached to: l'manberg and c!tubbo. he was the one to rope c!technoblade in with him, he was the one to declare the attack and the time, and he was the one to make the tnt cannons. and he did all that because c!tommy showed him that l’manberg was more important than the discs at that moment - and c!dream goes after what c!tommy values the most. to keep their game going, to make sure c!tommy is focused on their game as he says on the obsidian grid.

"our story isn't over, l'manberg's story is over, but our story isn't. i don't think it'll ever be over."

so yes, this was an entire rant you didn’t ask for - and i’m sorry for that hahah - but it’s been building. i think that’s where my frustration with doomsday comes from; the central conflict was centered on the wrong people, and because of that it had the message of doomsday fall flat. and c!tommy facing his abuser was pretty much forgotten in the sea of discourse that arose after the event

[daisylore-au]

The Revival — Day One, Part Five

NOBODY VOTED FOR “say nothing” AS THEY SHOULD !! /lh

this choice is a very specific one — read carefully because you have to pick more than just 1 or 2 as a choice !! :D

Daisy glances back at the ghost that she’s become so close to over the past few months.

“I love you,” she tells him, sincerely, and watches his eyes widen in surprise, “don’t forget it, ‘kay?”

Dream stares at her, caught off guard. In the evening’s low light, he almost looks tearful.

“Okay,” he whispers, voice a little wobbly, “yeah, I won’t… Um, I won’t forget.”

“We all love you,” Daisy says, “but I do mostly. We’re a team.” She smiles at him, gap-toothed and with settled nerves after talking to him. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you,” Dream says, and then, “Daisy?”

When Daisy turns back, Dream is cross-legged under the tree, hands twining around the pale green hoodie Lissie and Jame made him a couple of months back. “I love you too,” he says, and then he disappears from sight, as he does every night.

Beaming, feeling more content than she had in days, Daisy runs home to her father, jumping into his arms and letting him spin her around with a tired laugh. He’s been looking a lot more tired these days.

Daisy wonders if Dream will look tired when he’s alive, too.

—————

“Dad?” Daisy asks, as she’s tucked into bed that night. “What happens when you lose a life?”

“Like, a canon one?” George wrinkles his brow, looking down at her and smoothing the blankets over her. “Why, did something happen?”

Daisy shakes her head. “Just wond’ring. Does it hurt?”

“I mean… I guess it depends how you die.” Leaning back against the wall, George shrugs. “Mine hurt, but only because it was a painful death. If it was a quick death, it probably wouldn’t hurt. You would just… Blink, and wake up in bed.”

A faint frown creases his expression.

“Are you sure nothing happened? You and the others haven’t done anything stupid, right?”

“Define stupid,” Daisy says wisely, but gives her father a smile, “nothing that stupid, don’t worry. I just wanted to know. Nobody really talks about things, so I wanted to know from you.”

When George looks unconvinced, she reaches up, gives him an extra tight hug when he steps forwards.

“I didn’t know you lost a life.”

“I don’t go around declaring it to everyone,” George says, amused. “Only Uncle Q knows. And Uncle Fundy, I think.”

He gives her a kiss on the forehead, and heads for the door.

“Goodnight, Daisy. Sleep well. If you need me—”

“—I know where you are,” Daisy finishes for him, a strange feeling overtaking her as she watches her father leave, “I’m meetin’ Helga for school early, by the way. We wanna talk about our presentation before class.”

“I’ll have breakfast ready for six then,” George tells her, “better get a good sleep. Love you.”

“Love you.”

Daisy lets him leave, curling up in bed. Despite her calm exterior, something in her feels feverish.

What happens when you lose a life?

…She supposes she’ll find out firsthand tomorrow.

—————

“Ready?” Angel asks her the next morning, as she arrives in the flower field. “Big day.”

“Big big day.” Daisy’s bit her nails down to the pad. “I could only eat half my toast.”

He offers her a bar of chocolate, which she accepts eagerly. “Good luck,” he tells her, hugging her brightly, “you’ve got this. You’re gonna do great, okay?”

Dream is there with the other kids when she heads deeper into the field, looking just as nervous as she feels. Despite this, he smiles at her.

Daisy smiles back, trying to hide her fear.

And then things are moving, her friends busily setting up for the ritual while Emmeline directs them while reading from the book. The sun has barely risen by the time they’re finished, and soon enough, Daisy is standing with Dream, while her friends hover around them, every single face looking uncertain and nervous.

Daisy takes a breath. “Is this… it?”

“I think so.” Dream swallows, shooting her a sideways smile. “Are you taking anyone with you?”

“Huh?”

“Well, you can take people with you.” Dream shrugs, glancing around. “As many as you want, really. Or you can just go yourself. You have to lead the whole thing, um, but if you want, you can take people with you. It might help.”

And it also might not. Daisy bites her lip, stressed. Does she take any of her friends with her? Does she dare risk it? And if so, who does she take?

SO HERE’S THE CHOICE !! you can pick to take up to three people along on this journey to the void with you, and for each person you take, you will unlock a ‘section’ of the story that is unique to them. you can pick three, you can pick none, you can pick one or two — it’s up to you. your choice to pick them or not affects the story, as does the kids you pick themselves, so be careful !! you have 15 minutes :))

1. TAKE SOMEBODY / SOME PEOPLE (specify who!).

2. TAKE NOBODY.

[lieonarch]

my darlin’ oc Chang He (he/him) and Quinn’s current timeline relationship can be described using the song ‘Down the river’ by the Crane Wives 

edit: it’s pretty long but it’s just me going thru the lyrics of the song and see the connections it has with my darlin’ oc plot that i made for them (it’s still in shambles but the main plot is similar to what we have for now in canon)

I've been wishing that you'd prove me wrong That you'd come clean and rue the damage done (This one’s Chang He thinking he’s bob the builder trying to fix quinn idk what my man’s thinking tbh)

'Cause ain't it easier to just move on? One door closing means another one (Chang He doubting if he could really ever be free of the shadow of quinn and the constant thoughts of thinking it may have been his fault that quinn became that way) Opens unto Some unsuspecting fool (this is meeting Sam, the unsuspecting fool /lh HUIHAEF)

Sure, you can forget about all the things you've done But what about the rest of us? (What about the rest of us?) High-tail it when it gets to be too much But what about the rest of us? (What about the rest of us?) (this entire part is about the shit quinn has done, most importantly about fred and bright)

You were never the one To suffer {Chang He realizing the problem is really Quinn and not himself, he starts accepting that it was not his (Chang He) mistake)

Too many people with Your name on top of their lists (could go both ways without context but to me this could mean that a lot of empowered ppl (as we know now) are looking for him)

Now, tell me, when you start again Where will you house your skeletons? Or will they stay behind? Your settlement in kind? (This is a part nearing the end of the song and i think is very appropriate to put a closure to an arc in which Chang He spends his days questioning if he had been the wrong one in the first place. You could say the line ‘when you start again’ implies more on the fear that Chang He still has if Quinn returns even stronger than he was last, he wants a sign and he wants to be more prepared for it. It’s a bunch of questions towards the last part, Chang He whilst settling into a new life with Sam and reconnecting with the pack also gives him a lot of anxiety. Things like ‘this is too good to be true’ or ‘will you take all of this away from me”)

WHY TF IS THIS SUDDENLY SO LONG?? anyway listen to the crane wives, they’re pretty bangerrrr

[littleoddwriter]

A Day in the Life... | TransMasc!Victor Zsasz x Roman Sionis | ZsaszMask

"hey!! could i have anything to do with transmasc (nonbinary) he/it/ zsasz? its a personal headcannon he uses he/it or maybe some sort of dog related neopronoun like dog/dogself or pup/pupself or something so understandable if not!!" anon

A/N: 1) I absolutely love that headcannon, amazing, show stopping, I actually fucking love it, thank you! Also, this is canon, now, thanks. /gen /lh 2) I actually tried to incorporate all those pronouns because, lbr, Victor is a disaster (doesn't mean everyone who uses multiple pronouns is a disaster, but also, it's not meant as insult, y'all are fucking amazing after all) and just absolutely would. So, I really hope that was okay and you like what came off it! I'm also quite unfamiliar with using and writing neopronouns, so it might be wrong sometimes, or make less sense, but,,, I tried my best. Thanks so much for this request, it's absolutely delightful!!

summary; Just a short Slice of Life kind of fic of ZsaszMask, where Zsasz uses the above mentioned neopronouns. So, Victor goes by he/him/his, it/its, dog/dogs/dogself, and pup/pups/pupself pronouns in this fic!

notes; Implied Murder; Scar Mention; Mention of Sex; Domestic Fluff kind of; Slice of Life; Neopronouns, so if any of y’all have a problem with that, you better fuck off, I don’t want you on my blog.

During breakfast, Zsasz told Roman about some gang that tried to expand on their territory and had converted some people Sionis owned to achieve it. Naturally, that upset its boss a lot, so to calm him down Victor got up and behind Roman's chair, laying pups hands on his shoulders and digging into the tense muscles there soothingly.

"They won't fucking get away with it. Isn't that so, Zsasz?" Roman rasped, his face still twisted with anger, but he wasn't about to explode, so that was alright.

"They won't, I'm already working on it," he replied.

"Good! Fuck, I want their stupid fucking heads on a platter and their faces pickled!"

"I can do that for you," Zsasz answered calmly, still massaging Roman's shoulders thoroughly.

A frustrated sigh tore itself from Roman, the anger bleeding out of him and his shoulders sagging. Victor promptly stopped kneading his progressively relaxing muscles slowly, easing up on them gradually before stopping completely.

"What else was there you needed to tell me? You weren't quite done, were you?"

"Well, Batman and his little birds have prevented our shipping from leaving the port. I'm already working on that, too. I promise, we'll get it back and then out there."

Roman grumbled something unintelligible that pup couldn't quite get, and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Always this fucking Batman. Fuck's sake! You've also got some good news for me, I'm sure. Right?" Roman looked up at its with a pleading look.

Victor bit dogs lips. "Sorry, Boss. Got nothing."

"Ah, fuck. Well, then we've got to make sure that today is successful nonetheless, 'kay?"

"Sure fucking thing, Boss!"

Roman grinned at his partner and grabbed the back of its neck, pulling dogs down to press a kiss to his lips.

"At least you've always got my back," Roman murmured against pups lips.

Victor grinned, kissing him once more in assurance.

Later that day, Zsasz did come back with some good news. It and some of Roman's men were able to retrieve a third of the shipping's load already. The rest would probably follow soon, too.

When pup told Sionis about this, he couldn't suppress his relief and kissed its in front of some of their staff carelessly. Victor smiled into the kiss fondly. None of the others dared to say a thing, of course. They knew they'd be dead the second a word left their stupid mouths.

"You're such a good little puppy for me, aren't you?" Roman whispered into dogs ear.

It shivered, nodding. Victor loved when Sionis acknowledged pups like that, praised him, called dogs a 'good little puppy'.

"Someone's earned dogself a treat, hm? What do you think?"

By now the other men were gone, and Victor couldn't suppress a shiver, even if it had wanted to. Fuck, Roman always knew exactly what to say to pups.

"Yeah, I think you're right, Boss," he rasped, its cock stirring already.

At night, Victor had acquired two new scars on its body and was also sexually sated on top of that. Dog was delighted to no end, Roman kept spoiling him even after so many years of being together.

Zsasz had to admit, that it had never thought to find an owner like Sionis. Someone who didn't question its choice in pronouns and identity, who just accepted it and went with all of that and indulged pups so much, so that he sometimes even felt sad about the pending freeing of dogs owner. Yet, so far it still had a lot of time with Roman that he would enjoy and use to its fullest potential. 

[ceo-of-choco-bibi]

HCLW 107 SPOILERS

I've actually been so upset over the past few days because of the new chapters... nothing to worry about though it's not too serious.

I am making content, in terms of fics I got one more oneshot to add to my current chocotemp collection, a HnK au, and a new series of oneshots, more precisely about how I feel GRG would respond to the current event in the real world. In terms of art I have a few sketch graphs and one piece planned, but it might take a while to churn out.

(Check out my ao3 for my fics! https://archiveofourown.org/series/1811194)

For now I just really want to talk about them because they make me so sad and happy at the same time. Enjoy my rambling.

Giga 13th squad! They're all so cool, Giga's squad are really just Squad 1 Legendary characters team, the other fillers and Squad 13th. I immediately fall for any teleportation-related character, so Veganic is like (chef's kiss)! He is adorable I want to pick him up and put him in my fancy coat pocket.

MASTER SWORDSMAN ALWAYS GETS THE COOLEST PANELS! AS HE SHOULD! HE SLAYS ALL THE TIME UGH I

I hate the word goated but he really is he's the coolest and I hope he knows it! I feel embarrassed for talking to a fictional character but I wish he knows how much I love and cherish him

"There are times in life when you lose. If you're bound to lose, then just do the best you can! Then there will be a next time." I'm so devastated. How could you leave like this. How could you leave so happy when I'm dying over here.

"Give it to Choco Bibi and tell him it's my gift to congratulate him for becoming the second guild master of Grass Roots."

"How about we fight with our swords? It's been a while!"

"There should be a home for him to return to after he's done wandering. I'm going to start a new guild."

You don't understand. I don't have words for how painful this is. Just revel in the pain with me.

And here comes the backstory fluff (aka a sweetener to make the angst more bitter)

"How about we dance to draw attention?" "I think that'll make things worse." HELP ME

I CAN'T BELIEVE BIBI CANONICALLY HAS PRETTY BOY PRIVILEGE!!!! AS HE SHOULD???????

I'm actually never going to shut up about how Bibi never blushes in the presence of women. Like never. MSM and Drip Soup are always blushing when there's pretty women around but really Bibi has never shown attraction. When Pooh Upooh was naked? No. When Coco first entered the guild? No. Here, where a girl literally says she wants to go on a date with him? NO. This is actually my queer agenda, me and Sehun Kim had a talk and we agreed on making Bibi queer coded.

I would have never guessed that Drip Soup and Tempest were both affiliated with Giga for a short while? Guess I manifested my Giga!GRG but in a different way

I've never let go of the headcanon that Bibi is fucking terrible with feelings and is always angry, this just solidifies it more (really, every interaction Bibi has is just solidifying the theory that he's emotionally constipated)

I've also got the feeling that Bibi's super prideful in the sense that he would rather not express weakness (cry, express pain) in front of others (seen when he gets beaten by NM!Bibi the first time on) and that he channels everything into spite and anger instead. I kind of want to see this when he realises MSM is gone later on also. I want to see him get irrationally mad and blame someone (HCLW) before realising (or realising but still feeling lost and like he has to target someone) MSM wouldn't have wanted this. Armes wouldn't have wanted this. His friends are the only ones left.

It really comforts me to see that Master Swordsman is happy with his life right now. I'm kind of stuck between "oh he's happy because he's well off from the game, his work doesn't count" and "anything that you're happy with in life is worth it. You don't need an office job to be happy" though, but for real. I've never wanted a regular office job and I'd rather just do something simple and get by since nothing matters in the long run when I die. But at the same time, I feel like I can only say this because of how privileged I am to be me. It's hard being alive, sometimes. I'll pull through.

Tempest appearance! This time it solidifies my idea that Tempest finds his friends to be more important than himself, at least at this point of time. I expand a lot more in my new fic and I've written a bunch there already, so I'll save it for then (haha, shameless plug)

It's so bloody funny that they're all from the same school and that they're meeting up for a battle. What are you, YouTubers with beef?

TEMPEST BEING A GOODY TWO SHOES NERD? HIS HAIR IS KIND OF FLUFFY? (I die.) TEMPEST AND BIBI IRL INTERACTION? THEY KNOW EACH OTHER IRL BEFOREHAND? (I die again.) BIBI EATING POPCORN? (I die once more.)

Anyways Bibi with a sugar addiction I really do not need to elaborate on this.

They are such LOSERS who does irl fights I swear to god yall EMBARRASSING /lh

I MANIFESTED HEAVY ALCOHOL TOLERANCE BIBI YOU HAVE ME TO THANK FOR THIS!!!!!!! I REALLY DID!!!!!!!! (My linked headcanon was that Bibi's the group protector when they're out drinking. It's sort of true.)

I can't do this. This is a lot for my heart. To whoever looks at this, why? But also thank you for being here it means a lot to me.

MSM RICH

Bibi gets couch rights as he should! Also Bibi and Tempest airpod users while MSM and Soup earphone users?

Glasses and WFL came from nowhere but alright I still love them

The gifts thing. The gifts thing. I am so upset it's unbelievable.

The hat... the hat was given to Bibi by MSM... I want to see him have a breakdown now. I want to see him wear the hat forever on after this arc because it's something solid he has left. He's an art major irl, I want to see him recreate the hat or make art related to MSM.

"You might be grumpy on the outside, but I know you always think dear of me. I'm glad you don't know what I'm doing right now. If you did, you would've stopped me by any means."

It hurts so much.

"Life doesn't always go your way. And sometimes... you just want to run away from the life that turned out so differently. Some people say, the place you run off to is no paradise. They may be right, but those who ran away can still comfort each other there."

GRG IS LITERALLY FOUND FAMILY! THEY ARE LITERALLY-

I cannot do this anymore it's horrible my heart is shattering into a million pieces

"How did we end up like this? You went through enough to deserve a little happiness. Hardcore. Go back to your friends!"

He does deserve it. You deserve it. I hate this. Thank you. Sorry.

And Bibi still doesn't know. He'll be the last to know. "Did he go knowing I loved him? What were his last words? How do I go on? What do I do from now?"

I do want to see them reunite and remember. I do want to see them waddle in their hurt and pain, to heal together, to move on as a guild knowing this is what MSM would have wanted. It's so fascinating seeing someone grow and oh how much have the Grass Roots grown in the past 3 years. They've been close to my heart since forever and I really love them so much.

Final conclusion: I hope you've hurt as much as I do. I hope reading this has shown you something from my perspective that has made you hurt a little more. Talk to me and be my friend so we can hurt together.

On a more self note: Like I said, I'm writing stuff. I'm drawing stuff. It sucks to think sometimes that so few people will see it, but I know that I love what I'm doing. I may be prideful and want more people to love me, but I think I'm not selfish for wanting so. Reading this drains me. Reading this fills me with inspiration and joy and happiness and pain and anger and sadness.

I hope you don't find it just plain cringe that my emotions work like this. I hope that you reading this find comfort in knowing someone feels this way too. Thank you.

[aceoftrashies]

Ohh boy, finally finished the list- and, fair warning, it’s a mess ahsvHSV (feeling super delirious from classes rn, so my apologies,,)

Also! The typical, pretty blatant ‼️ spoiler warning ‼️ for anybody who hasn’t finished Julian, Lucio, and Asra’s routs,,

Possible scenes w/Julian

-VI, A Gift and a Curse; The “hidden garden” paid scene. Could probably, slightly, cross into Laying Low as well?

-VIII, Master Of Disguise; the typical “hold back or you’ll give away your identity” kind of thing??

-IX, Lost and Found- I mean the player literally sneezes there, so I don’t think it’d be too far-fetched,, idk

-XI, Pursuit of Knowledge; mainly in the memory paid scene- the one showing Julian when he first contracted the plague? Maybe??

-Legit any scenes during the Masquerade, because,, yknow,,, the feathered masquerade outfit,,

-XVI, Head Over Heels; the spell paid option,, maybe the MC went a little overboard with the “cool things down” option- you can probably use your imagination from there 👀

-XVIII, Dream Within a Dream; the “snowball fight paid option- that one’s pretty easy to imagine tbh, especially with the “make a sparkling snowball” option where,, y’know,,, it literally explodes into a cloud glitter upon impact shsHSVS

-XXI, Towards Tomorrow; the final paid scene in the upright ending, when the MC throws a dustcloth at his face ahsvHSVHSV

-XXI, After The End; any time after Julian’s reversed ending, where he and the MC travel out to find their friends again,, because,,, idk, there’s a whole new magic-stricken world out there, and I just really like the way they left it open ended/hinted at the possibility that things could get better & continue from there and fUCK, MAN,, I could write an essay on how much I love both endings, don’t even get me started,,, /pos

Possible scenes w/Lucio

-VI, Beyond the Veil; when Lucio’s appearance is returned to normal, it describes the transformation as a sort of whirlwind, sweeping up all the ash around him- you probably get where I’m going with this ahsvHSVSHV,,

-VII to VIII, The White Forest, to Old Ghosts; I know this bastard grew up in the South and is canonically pretty immune to the cold, but shh let me obsess in peace

-X, Rescue and Reckoning; that scene where the MC saves him from the snow after he’s been trapped there for an unspecified amount of time? Yep, absolutely clinging to that concept and running with it ahsvHSV

-XII, Vicious Cycles; the second paid option. Mainly when he gets stuck in a bush ahsvHHSVS

-XIII, A Very Long Shadow; just about any time after he gets his body, namely with the baking paid option?

-XIV, Night To Remember; mainly the scene where you have to hide him from Vulgoria ahsbJSB,,, I,, am a sucker for scenes like that ngl,,, Same thing goes for a similar scene in XV, Out of the Frying Pan,,

-XIX, Weight of the World (GOD I LOVE THAT CHAPTER NAME AAA,, man,,,) during the “what future do you want?” paid scene,, or just anywhere in the second half of the chapter, since they’re in a massive flower field,,

-XXI, The Road Goes On (AAA THAT TITLE AS WELL,,, god most of Lucio’s chapter titles just resonate with me, as cheesy as they are); during the second to last paid option in his upright ending. (Mainly based on that headcannon/technically cannon that Lucio absolutely cannot handle spice ahsvHSV,,)

Possible scenes w/Asra

-VI, The Other Side; the paid option where the apprentice can explore the oasis with Asra?

-VIII, The Low Road; if you’ve played through this one, then it,, probably speaks for itself,,,

-VIII, Away from it All; the baking scene !! Because I,, have zero self-control,,,

-IX, Shelter from the Storm; this one is also pretty self-explanatory,,

-XIV, Visions and Illusions; I know this is supposed to be focused on Asra but damn it Julian you prick- Y’know that scene where Julian is riding up on one of the masquerade floats, and the MC has the choice to prank him? If you’ve seen that scene I’m sure you know where I’m going with this ahsvHSVS,,

-XV, Faustian Bargain; the “light the incense” paid option 👀

-XXI, The Great Divide; the aforementioned moth scene in the reversed end, but extended, ig? I dunno man, I’m out of ideas,,

The endings themselves leave room for some general sf-scenes too, but that requires a little extra brainstorming, and quite frankly, I’ve gone so far with this hyperfixation that I’ve burnt myself out ahsvJSV,, /lh

-♠️

That's a pretty cool list! I haven't done all of those, so I don't know everything you're talking about, but I'll look into them to find out!

And the 'Stay In Bed' option you showed me, except that one is legit,,

[silvercrane14]

cloud anon has reminded me that i hc iwaizumi as mixed filipino-japanese !!! it's me projecting + from the way he acts u can tell he was raised by a filipino mother -w-

NO I LOVE FILO IWA SOOO TRUE