been thinking about a little concept for the ‘a lesson in romantics’ au. this is definitely going to be placed somewhere in a future work. steve x reader fluff under the cut.
every tuesday at the bar you ordered the same drink. a cosmopolitan. steve always eyed the pretty pink color of the liqueur when you sipped it and he watched you let out a satisfying sigh. every tuesday. it seemed to really take the edge off without being harsh like his gross beer and awful whiskey on the rocks. but steve didn’t dare order one of his own. he was to scared of the judgment that would be casted on his character by the other guys in the bar.
he turned towards the dimly lit stage his best friend just performed on while twisting his wrist. watching the liquid in his cup flow with his movements. he took a quick drink of his beverage. when he tilted his head back to take the rest of it he was a shocked when he felt you tap his shoulder gently. you usually were bouncing up and down on your heels waiting to see eddie right after he got off stage.
steve wiped his mouth so wouldn’t spill on himself. when he turned to you and moved the glass he looked stonic. he tried to hide his liquor face. just wasn’t to good at it. he gave you his attention and raised in eyebrow.
“they made my drink to strong stevie..” you pouted. he smiled, “oh did they? i’m sorry. but hey! i’m sure you could just give it back and get a new one, yeah?” little did he know you had already tried. the lovely bartenders insisted that you take a new one on the house. now you had two of your favorite drinks, and one was undrinkable for you.
“i know you’ve always wanted to try it!!” you teased the pink glass in front of him, “you should take a sip!” steve practically pulled the candy like drink away from your hands and pursed his lips on the black straw. the sweet flavor was mixed with a tinge of liquor but it was so delicious compared to the bitter drinks he was used to. all the over the counter shit he drank was only because it was, ‘manly’ or ‘put some hair on his chest’.
josh, your favorite bartender, watched as you passed it off to him. he giggled to himself watching steve sucked the drink down at record speed. taking gulp after gulp to quench his flamboyant thirst. he took note of it. now every once in awhile the bartender secretly makes a cosmo just to strong for you. and every other tuesday you pass it off to steve. it was getting a little excessive and couldn’t be a coincidence, but steve allows it.
finally one day, eddie catches him with the pink icy drink in his hands. he smells the familiar scent of his girls favorite drink on steve’s tongue and he wonders why his best friend is baby sitting her drink. steve is finally able to loudly excuses the particular favoritism of the beverage with a lie. it seemed like he announced it to the entire bar with how loud he was, “no no no! you got it wrong! she’s just letting me finish it, was to strong for her. it’s the least i could do”.
steve loves the sweetness of the drink. he loves the sweetness of the little white lie that leaves his juice stained lips. and most of all he loves the sweetness of josh, who keeps steve’s secret safe with him.
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miss molly!!! my love, my life!
i haven’t been online in a bit and in an attempt to catch up was speed scrolling and skimmed “won’t write fan fiction anymore” and came to a screeching halt
i thought i was seeing a goodbye or deleting my account type post and my heart was immediately in my ass. after some profile stalking i gathered some context and i need to say that you do whatever you need to do for yourself, and absolutely no one else.
that being said, anyone that has read anything you’ve written knows you CLEARLY don’t support or agree with the person who just named YOUR characters. bc while she may have written them down first, every story you create you build them new from scratch for us to fall in love with all over again, and none of that love comes from what she did but from what we as a community have built in spite of her.
I will support and love whatever you decide to do from here. your wolfstar is without a doubt my favorite and your fics are so special to me, but if this is what you need to do for you i back you 1000% and will be first in line to read anything you publish next.
just wanted you to know that youve brought immense joy to my life so far and i will forever be grateful you share your art with the world<3
xoxo, ur biggest fan
FRIEND 😭😭😭😭😭😭
I sincerely got weepy reading this, you have no idea how much this means to me! It makes me sad that she effectively ruined our fandom by being such a hateful person, but if I'm being honest, I'm also sort of excited about having something that is MINE and not attached to her in any way (kinda fun to figure out new names lol)
That being said, I'm not sure what I will do with what I produce. I like the IDEA of trying to actually get something original published in print, but I don't really know how to go about doing that. I considered it with DYH, but it was easier (and less scary) to write it as Wolfstar for ao3.
I haven't looked into posting original fiction on AO3, it is evidently a thing, but would anyone even read it?? (except some of my friends, including you, my darling anon)
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I love the wording of this. any science news, especially relating to space (and webb) automatically sound like poetry to me and then when they're also written like that... oh how beautiful.
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“Psst! Old Geezer!”
“The fuck did you just call me–!” Dick Grayson was a lot of things–cop, detective, vigilante, handsome beyond mortal comprehension–but he wasn’t old! Twenty-three was not old! When he got his hands on that brat– “Oh, it’s you. You need to knock it off, kid.”
The kid in question had become something of a legend to the Central Bloodhaven Police Department. Detective O’Mallery had dubbed the kid “Stalky,” but Dick thought Lurky was a more accurate name; the kid lurked outside murder scenes, often showing up before the press… and sometimes, before the cops. Lurky was a short kid, easily half Dick’s height, and pale. He practically glowed, lighting up the alley Dick was guarding. He wore a black overcoat that swamped his tiny body, with the sleeves and hem cut to fit the child’s frame and a stiff gothic collar that reached his ears. Lurky’s black hair and blue eyes uncomfortably reminded Dick of—
“Nah, i don’t think i will,” the kid dismissed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “‘Sides, you can’t do anything to stop me.”
“I can arrest you,” Dick said, completely serious. “You’re interfering with a crime scene, again. I’d be well within my rights to do so.” The kid looked unimpressed.
“Okay, boomer.”
Dick resisted the urge to murder a child. Barely.
“Besides,” Lurky continued, “I just wanted to do my civic duty and inform you of the bloody knife three alleys over. Pretty sure it could help solve the crime scene there.” He gestured towards the apartment building behind Dick. “Andrew Grant-Williams, age 36, apartment 214. Right?”
“How the hell did you know that?”
“What, that thing with the knife? I looked for it, obviously.”
“No, about the suspect!” Dick glared at Lurky. “There’s no way you could have pinpointed who in the apartment died; did you steal a police radio!?” If he did, then Dick would actually have to arrest the kid.
“No, I didn’t steal a police radio. Yet.” Dick tried really hard to ignore that last part. He’d done far worse things as Robin, after all. “His wife told me.”
Andrew Grant’s wife, Patrisa, died four years ago in a mugging gone wrong. Before Dick could question Lurky further, Dick blinked and Lurky vanished just like Batman.
Even worse? Dick bothered checking the dumpster three alleys over and found, underneath a bag of kitchen scraps, a hunting knife, still bloody.
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I got tagged in a Last Line tag game by @carrythispictureforluck (thanks friend ❤️)
so. I guess. I will post a bit of the thing I'm working on. It's original fiction but.... Wolfstar adjacent lol
Not for the first time that evening – or that day, even – Rafael wondered if this was what it was like to be friends with Beckett Blakeley. He wondered why he had spent the last two years not laughing this hard over something that stupid. He wondered if Beckett’s other friends saw him the way Rafael had come to see him. He wondered if Beckett’s other friends were also just a little bit in love with him.
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