i’m so glad you have started writing fanfics for romance club! i love your writing and i think you are super talented but i kind of stopped being as excited for litg recently, so it’s such a joy to see you in the rc community 🤍🤍do you have any fave lis/stories so far?
Hiya!!! Thank you so so much, this means a lot!!
I can't promise I'll be writing much RC, I've played a couple of things and HS/HS2 is the only one that's really floored me so far. I started Kali but I wasn't super into the story (though that scene at the wedding with Killian OOF)
That said, I am down so bad for Lucifer it's not even funny. I started out thinking I was gonna be so hot for Dino but the girls encouraged me to stick with Luci and I would murder everyone in the world if he smiled at me like I am BROKEN over him. He is beloved he is bae he is husband he is babygirl and I will forever be thinking about him.
aaaahhhh
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hi, it is. almost 5 in the morning. but i should let you all know i now have a nsfw art blog!!! i wanna start drawing more nsfw art, and i wanted my own sideblog for it
so!!! 18+ mutuals, if you are interested, please send an ask or a dm and i'll send you a link
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Beep. Beep. Beep.
Piers watches the total on the screen tick, tick, tick up with each item the cashier scans. He wishes the supermarket had self checkout for moments like this, when the cashier is done and gives him his total, when he digs in his wallet and then in his coat pockets and is still about ¥300 short.
“Uh...” He swallows, placing the pool of bills and coins on the counter between them. The lady - a tallish young woman probably a few years older than him, maybe 18 - raises an eyebrow and pops her gum at him.
“You’re a bit short, luv.”
“I know, I...” He looks, does quick math, thinks about what they can afford to lose. None of it really, but that’s not an option. Behind them, someone sighs. It makes the heavy, choking embarrassment pooling in his stomach cinch tighter.
Milk? No, Marnie needs it. Her oatmeal is a must. So’s the dish soap - he’s been watering down what they had for too long now... Dammit, he shouldn’t have picked up his medicine earlier this week, stupid shit was ¥1300. He could’ve gone without...
“I need to put these back, sorry-” he says, sliding a few items forward. She turns and grabs the intercom mic on her stand. No, no-
“I need a manager on seven for item return,” she says, loud an clear, ringing across the store. The two people in line behind him both make noises of annoyance and pull their carts to a different register.
He wants to just leave it all and run out of the door. Marnie, still sitting in the cart, watches quietly.
“Returns?” the manager, an older, balding man in a button-up. He walks up and starts ringing the items off, glancing up at Piers. Then he glances up again for a moment longer, and then his eyes slide between him, Marnie, the items, and the pile of crumpled bills and loose change on the till. He coughs, and picks up one of the returns to inspect it.
“Actually I think some of your stuff is on sale, lad. Sorry, we’ve been a little behind today on updatin’ the system with this week’s sales.” He says, smiling as he rescans the items, tapping on the screen. The total ticks down, and he ends up with about ¥500 back. Both he and the cashier look at him in confusion.
“That’s not-” she starts, but he waves his hand, still smiling.
“No, no! That’s my fault, I’ve been behind this morning-”
“Uh..” he murmurs, slowly reaching out and taking the change, shoving it back in his wallet. The woman looks at them both for a moment and then shrugs and starts helping him put his items back in the cart. The man hands him his receipt and Piers stares at it for a long moment, then looks back at the man.
“...thank you.”
“Not a problem, lad. Have a good one.” He waves at Marnie, and she shyly buries her face in his jacket. He walks out, quickly loads the groceries into the basket of his bicycle and Marnie into his chest carrier. She’s getting big for it - he’ll have to figure out something else soon.
He keeps it together at least until they get back to the flat, and he can slump down on the kitchen floor and put his head in his hands.
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