#still one of my favorite moments between them

[shaguro]

synposis: the story of how you met your sugar-daddy, nanami, at the cafe you work at. ♡ (the prequel to this drabble!)

ੈ✩‧₊˚ tags: sugar daddy nanami! (college student/barista reader x coo nanami), reader is fem, age gap (nanami is 30, reader is 24.), ceo gojo cameo at the start, flirty nd playful banter btwn reader nd nanami, anna is reader's coworker nd friend. nanami calls reader sweetheart once, nanami is just smitten with her as soon as he sees her. sweet fluff! as a whole, this is very light-hearted and unserious y'all. — w.c: 2.2k. ♡

angel's note: consider this my official comeback from my hiatus! thank you so much @preciousamethyst for beta-reading, love you downn. ♡

“you’re telling me out of the five blind-dates that i set up . . . you didn’t like any of them? not even a little bit?” satoru asks incredulously, the french-vanilla latte in his hand almost spilling on the table as he leans forward. “you’re too damn picky, nanamin! they all seemed like nice, respectable ladies to me.”

nanami sighs, looking up from his laptop with an annoyed expression on his face. “the last one didn’t have any teeth . . . and can you keep it down? i’m trying to focus and you’re making a scene, as usual.”

“oh, heh. my bad.”

nanami’s eyes linger on the white-haired man for a moment before focusing on the screen in front of him again. he’s not sure why satoru tagged along to this new cafe with him on his lunch break. (when he clearly stopped visiting his favorite one to avoid him.) it’s not like nanami could say no, anyway — satoru is his boss. his annoying and extremely invasive boss who always finds a way to be in his way and in his business.

it goes without saying that his dating life is certainly not off-limits.

unwrapping the chocolate eclair he just bought, satoru takes a bite of the puffy pastry, humming once the sugary goodness hits his tastebuds. “you were right, nanamin. this does taste amazing.“ he pauses between his words to lick chocolate off his bottom lip, then off his fingers. “maybe we need to try a different approach . . . dating apps! ever tried tinder or bumble—“

“no.” nanami slams his laptop closed, shooting all satoru’s incoming questions down. “i don’t need your help. let’s try ‘letting things happen naturally and staying out of my business’ for a change, yeah?”

“but i have everything planned out! it’ll take me two seconds to make your profile and i have the perfect bio for you — thirty year old trick looking for a pretty woman to spend all my money on — how’s that sound?”

“terrible.” nanami deadpans, placing his laptop into his briefcase. he lifts the sleeve of his shirt, checking the time on his breitling navitimer before standing from his seat. “you have fun with that. i’m getting my pastry to go, i’ll see you back at the office.”

satoru’s jaw is on the floor. “but, nanami—“

without another word, nanami leaves a whining gojo to make his way towards the line that was, thankfully, empty. the baristas don’t notice him, backs turned while they talk to each other by the back counter and nanami doesn’t mind — it gives him more time to decide on what pastry he wants anyway.

truly, he doesn’t understand the obsession surrounding his love life. while nanami is looking, he is by no means desperate. even he knew it was a bad idea to present yourself as a sugar daddy on a dating app, unless you’re an idiot or just lacking a single ounce of dignity.

both categories that satoru fits into, nanami thinks. 

kneeling slightly for a better view at the assorted desserts behind the crystalline-glass case, nanami’s unsure of which one to choose. this cafè’s selection is extensive, they offer much more than what he’s used to; tarts, cakes and pastries that he’s never even seen before. ultimately, he opts to keep it simple with one of his favorites: a fluffy cinnamon roll with extra vanilla glaze.

“girl, i’ve been working real hard and i still don’t have enough saved to pay tuition.” you murmur, scooping a handful of coffee grounds into the filter and shaking the brew funnel to level them. “i’m stressed out.”

nanami’s eyes flicker to where the two of you stand. while he’s never considered himself to be a nosy man, he finds his focus shifting from his lunch to the conversation you’re having, ears perked in interest as he continues to weigh his other options.

your co-worker, anna, gives you a reassuring pat on the back, her face itched downward in concern. “yeah, you were telling me about that last week . . . how much more do you need?”

“around like five-hundred more.” you sigh, brushing your hands off on your apron. anna starts to speak but you stop her with a raise of your palm, already knowing what she’s thinking. “and yes, i’ve taken out loans already. my loans have loans at this point.”

anna raises her brows. “so what are you going to do?”

“i’m out of options.” you shrug, adjusting the valves on the coffee machine to their correct settings. with a heavy sigh, you lean your head on her shoulder with a pout on your glossed lips, “it’s either i start an onlyfans or god sends me a rich old man that wants to be my sugar-daddy.”

anna giggles and playfully swats your arm. even in a serious moment like this, you find a way to lighten the mood. she plays along, tapping her chin with her index finger, “hmm, that can work! maybe you can start stripping. you watched the tiktoks i sent you, right? they touch thousands on a good night.”

“oh my god, i didn’t even think of that!” you stand straight and cup your hands on your breasts through your shirt, poking your ass out a bit. “i might need a boob job and bbl if i wanna be serious about it, though . . . plus, isn’t twenty-four a little too old to start stripping?”

“girl, please. twenty-four isn’t old and you know that. you have a nice body and you’re pretty. they’ll throw stacks just based off that, trust me —”

that whole sugar-daddy thing that satoru was suggesting doesn’t sound half as bad to nanami, right now. you get the money you need and he gets to spend time with you, it’s a win-win.

“she’s right,” nanami agrees, unable to hold back the chuckle that leaves his mouth when the both of you literally jump at the sound of his voice, whipping your bodies around to see just who that deep, smooth timbre belonged to. “you’re very pretty miss . . .” his brown eyes shift down to your name-tag. “ . . . ( name ).”

you blink once, twice — lips slightly parted, heat slowly rising to your face once his sweet compliment slowly registers in your brain and how your name flowed so easily off his tongue. just looking at this man, you can tell that he has money. he’s handsome, even more so as your eyes shift from his chiseled face down to his body. nanami stands tall, he must be around six feet. sporting a white dress-shirt and navy-blue slacks that match his tie, nanami is built. the soft cotton of his shirt clings to his biceps, outlining each vein and curve. the very top of his shirt is unbuttoned, exposing a sliver of his toned chest underneath.

there is no way god answered your prayers this quickly.

in a trance, you stare at nanami like a deer in headlights, completely enamored until anna nudges your arm, snapping you back to reality. she whispers a curt ‘you better talk to that man, girl’ in your ear and that’s you realize that you didn’t even thank him yet, how rude. 

“o-oh, thank you.” you move towards the register, giving nanami a sheepish smile whilst drumming your french-tip acrylics against the granite counter. “so um . . how much of that did you hear?”

“hmm . . . most of it.”

“the onlyfans part too?”

nanami nods with a grin. “and the old rich sugar daddy part.”

you cover your face with your hand, letting out a long sigh. this is just your luck, embarrassing yourself in front of this extremely sexy stranger. “let’s just . . . pretend that didn’t happen.” you’re certain that you were definitely not getting his number after this. “what can i get you, mr . . .?”

“kento.” nanami answers, leaning a tad bit closer and you have to crane your neck slightly to look at him, that grin still on his plump lips. “but you can call me ken.”

“oh?” you catch the cheeky switch in his tone, the teasing glint in those pretty pools of brown. he’s flirting with you and why not return the same energy? you’re interested in him, too. biting back a smile of your own, you hold his gaze, staring up at him through your wispy extensions. “ok, ken, what can i get you?”

“two of those cinnamon rolls, please.” nanami answers, pointing towards the case he’d been looking at prior.

you nod and grab a set of tongs, opening the glass to place the rolls into a small plastic bag, then into a paper bag on the counter. “just that, nothing else?”

pondering on the question, nanami’s debating the risk of what he’s about to say. it’s obvious that you’re attracted to him but this was a whole different ballgame, asking you to be his sugar baby? — really, the worst that could happen is you rejecting him and as much as he doesn’t want that, he’d just have to accept it. nanami inhales a deep breath once he gathers his thoughts. here goes nothing. 

“well, there is something that i have. it’s a proposition of sorts for you.”

you look up from the register, one of your brows raised. “and what would that be?”

“allow me to take you out a few times a week, whenever you have the time . . . and i’ll pay your tuition.” nanami pauses and shakes his head, combing some of his blonde locks back with his fingers. “no, i’ll pay all your bills. as long as i get to see you, i’ll give you anything that you want.”

you tilt your head to the left and raise your brows. “you want to be my sugar daddy?”

nanami nods, chuckling at the look of sheer disbelief on your face on your face. “i’m missing the old part so i’m not exactly sure if i qualify . . . but yes, i do.”

you scoff at that. “. . . and you just want to see me, take me on dates, no sex?” did he think you were that naive? if there’s one thing you know for certain, it’s that nothing in this world is free —  everything has a price and in this case, your pussy would be the desired currency. you pout, crossing your arms over your chest. “i don’t believe that. what’s the catch?”

nanami supposes you aren’t wrong for thinking this way. it does sound far-fetched, especially from a stranger you met not even an hour ago. he wasn’t a liar or a perv, and he’d just have to make you see how serious he is. “there is no catch. i think you’re beautiful and i want to get to know you better. i understand that this may seem too good to be true but i promise you, my intentions are pure.”

nanami isn’t surprised when you don’t budge, eyes slanted as you glare him down. (and you look so adorable while doing it.) he expected this reaction from you and little did you know, he’s already one step ahead. if his words don’t move you, then he’s sure his actions will get the point across.

fishing for his wallet in his pocket, he pulls it out, handing you a five dollar bill, “this is for the cinnamon rolls and this,” he takes out a set of bills, hundred dollar bills and you watch him, mouth ajar as he counts off each one before placing it in your free hand. is he serious? “this is for your tuition and a little extra to spend. we’ll handle the ‘loans that have loans’ on our first date, alright?”

you’re speechless, eyes shifting between nanami’s face and the money in your hand as you try your best to process what’s happening before you. from joking about needing a sugar-daddy to having one in front of you. and the man wants to spend time with you, no sex required! you surely couldn’t doubt him now, not when he gave you the money without you actually agreeing. maybe this was the blessing from god you’d been waiting for.

you clear your throat, nodding dazedly. “a-alright, yeah . . . we can talk more on our first date.”

nanami smiles once more, glancing at his watch prior to picking up the paper bag off the counter. “as much as i want to stay with you, i have to get back to the office.” reaching into his pants pocket, he slides a laminated card on the counter. “my personal number is on this card. when you get a chance, call or send me a text. i’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”

with a playful wink, nanami leaves the cafe — your eyes trailing his lithe frame until he turns a street corner, completely out of sight. it’s like you were frozen in place, the money still in your hands. when you finally decide to take a look at the business card he left, your jaw quite literally drops to the floor: this man is the coo of jujutsu, one of the biggest marketing companies in the country.

                                 kento nanami

                            chief operating officer

               jujutsu marketing and e-commerce, llc.

                                 xxx-xxx-xxxx

[email protected]

now, you were definitely certain that god did indeed hear and answer your prayers. in more ways than one.

tagging: @sttoru @screampied @thebimbopalace @tojancy

© shaguro, 2023 - do not plagiarise nor repost anything on any other platform.

#⸻꒰ঌ 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭’𝘴 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 ໒꒱ #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #nanami kento x reader #nanami fluff #jjk x reader fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk fluff

[uzurakis]

REACTIONS TO YOUR FIRST KISS FOR ‘EM!

featuring: itadori yuuji. megumi fushiguro. yuuta okkotsu. gojo satoru.

n. back with the short drabbles for each character! i also made a geto ver. but i scrapped it cause i didn’t feel it as much as these ones. maybe i’ll make another one in a short time :)

GOJO SATORU. his reaction was anything but conventional. instead of being taken aback or surprised, he met your embrace with a playful glint in his eyes, a smirk dancing on his lips.

"was that all you've got?" he teased, his voice a velvet whisper that sent a shiver down your spine. his fingers traced a tantalizing path along your jawline, his touch igniting a spark of desire that lingered in the air between you. you couldn't help but laugh at his cheeky remark, a mixture of amusement and affection bubbling up within you. "oh, is someone asking for more, satoru?" you replied, your own tone laced with playful challenge as you leaned in closer, the space between you charged with a magnetic tension.

satoru’s smirk widened into a knowing grin, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. "maybe i am," he admitted, his voice a low rumble that sent a thrill racing through you. "but only if you're up for it."

ITADORI YUUJI. one second thought, he should be processing what happened just now. one second later, his body simply moved on its own to kiss you back. everything happened so fast—a liking exchanged between the two of you in a matter of seconds. the adrenaline in itadori’s veins wouldn't stop flowing until he made the decision to lean in for a kinder, softer kiss.

“you just kissed me twice already,” you giggled as he grin sheepishly, “did you realize that?”. he remarked with a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes, “then you just lost the race against me.”

"lost the race, huh?" you retorted. "well, i guess i'll just have to pick up the pace then." with a lightness in your heart and a newfound determination, you leaned in, closing the distance between your lips with gentle yet purposeful intent. "there," you whispered, "now it's even." itadori chuckled softly at your playful remark, his eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and adoration. "well, if that case," he began, his voice laced with a hint of mischief, "i suppose i'll have to make it three then.”

YUUTA OKKOTSU. as your lips met yuuta’s in a tender, unexpected kiss, his initial reaction was one of gentle surprise. his heart fluttered with a mix of emotions, unsure of how to respond in that fleeting moment of intimacy.

his smile broke through the uncertainty, a soft, genuine expression that mirrored the warmth of your touch. "well, that was unexpected," he murmured, his voice laced with amusement as a small laugh escaped his lips. you couldn't help but giggle at his reaction, the sound echoing softly in the quiet space between you. "sorry, i couldn't resist," you confessed, your cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and affection.

yuuta's laughter grew, a melodic sound that filled the air with joy and lightness. "no need to apologize," he reassured you, his gaze meeting yours with a tender warmth. "i think unexpected kisses might just be my new favorite thing." at last, as he gazed into your eyes, he realized that in that moment, he didn't need to have all the answers. all he knew was that he wanted to savor this shared intimacy, to revel in the beauty of your touch and the warmth of your presence.

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO. no words, just a silent pause with his gaze fixed on yours. as the red colour on his face became more apparent, his pupils widened and his brows lifted. megumi's mouth was already open, but no words came out of it. he could feel his heart thumping against his chest, and the sound echoed in the silence between them. did your lips really just brush his? perhaps it was just his illusion. was that it? or was it not?

"i'm sorry if you're not comfortable with, yeah, that." after a few seconds of stillness, you hesitantly spoke out. "i should've asked—" but your words were stopped short by his exclaimed 'no!'. "i just," megumi felt like he could sink into the depths of the moment, drowning in the ocean of feelings that swirled within, "i thought you weren't into that kind of... stuff."

you too grew quiet after his words, but before you could respond, he steadily got closer and closer, until the only thing that separated the two of you was a small breath you exhaled. "can i?" he asked gently, there was a raw sense of longing, a weakness exposed for you to see, and it touched something deep inside him. the only response you offered was a nod, which is more than enough to signal his lips to touch yours for the second time. and this time, megumi just made a confession of emotions too profound to be articulated.

@uzurakis

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #itadori yuuji x reader #yuji itadori #itadori x reader #jjk x reader #okkotsu yuuta #yuuta x reader #yuuta okkotsu x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #gojo fluff #yuuji fluff #yuuta fluff #megumi fluff #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #megumi x you #megumi x y/n #yuuta x you #yuuta x y/n #yuuji x reader #yuuji x you #yuuji x y/n #.writing

[ckret2]

Chapter 51 of human Bill Cipher is once more the Mystery Shack's prisoner: Dipper and Mabel try to figure out what the Axolotl's poem means; Dipper gets the hang of astral projection; and... whatever's going on up there happens.

####

Ford and Dipper came back into the shack through the gift shop; Ford didn't want to risk crossing paths with Bill. While Dipper went into the house, Ford went down—returning to the safety of his subterranean study.

Once Ford had put on the old black trench coat he'd worn during his multiversal travels and gotten comfortable at his desk, he pulled out Journal 5 to document the events of the last few days. In a cheap ballpoint pen, he wrote, I've lost my #1 Grunkle pen (and favorite coat) to the waters of Lake Gravity Falls. And then, deciding this didn't adequately express his feelings, he drew a small frown. That coat had served him well for decades, and he'd really liked that pen. It did write excellently, and it had reminded him of his gniece and gnephew.

He spent three pages documenting the eclipse—what happened, what readings he'd taken, what he and Dipper observed—and then another four pages talking about Bill. What he'd told them, why Ford had dismissed it; his claims about a trans-dimensional axolotl distorting gravity with its migration; the statue, the rescue, the breakdown.

The act of writing always helped Ford clarify his thoughts and untangle mysteries; it wasn't until he was writing that he realized the limbs Bill had said he couldn't feel were the ones that had broken off the statue.

He listed the rules of the chess variants he could remember Bill inventing. He drew Bill huddled in front of the board, grim, tear-streaked, exhausted; and then scratched out his face, embarrassed at the thought of immortalizing such a raw moment for his private viewing.

He wrote, There's still a slim possibility that the entire "eclipse," start to finish, was Bill's masterfully-orchestrated scheme to make us pity and trust him; but it's unlikely. Although Bill is fiendish enough, he isn't currently powerful enough, and his lies certainly aren't elaborate enough. If he could pull off such a byzantine ruse, then he could just as easily escape—and if he can escape, why hasn't he? Bill may be insane, but he's never been THAT irrational.

And so, even as twisted as Bill's idea of "friendship" is... for the very first time, I'm convinced that he was telling the truth all along when he said he wants me as his friend. It's not an act. He risked his life to save someone who's an active threat to him.

And at the end of it all—though I'm grateful to be alive in spite of my own stubbornness—do I like him any better for it?

Ford leaned back and shut his eyes, sifting through the inner tumult of anger and old hurt that defined most of his memories of Bill, looking to see if anything had changed.

There was a sore, tender spot in his emotions, a place beginning to rot with remorse; when he prodded at those emotions, he found that it was shame over his own harsh conduct of the last couple of days. But he was only ashamed of how cruelly he'd acted; he wasn't ashamed that Bill was the one he'd done it to.

Outside of that tender spot—regret over his own behavior—nothing else had changed.

No. I still hate him. I'm grateful to be alive, but I hate him. He hasn't undone anything he did to my family and me, and he never will. Forgiveness can't be purchased with favors.

I'm only relieved at the certainty of it. Bill has committed an act that can't possibly be a lie. I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he's shown me the truth; and the truth is he'd rather see me alive than dead. Whatever other lies he may tell, I can hold on to that fact.

Bill's miserable eyes peered out at Ford between the scribbles he'd drawn across his face. It was truly a pity that Ford had to hate him. Pity that Bill hadn't been somebody better. He could have been better.

Ford couldn't find it in himself to be embarrassed that he'd filled four pages talking about the monster he'd already wasted so many more on. Bill had been right about him: You might hate me to my face, but behind my back you're as obsessed with me as ever. The only thing Bill didn't understand was that hatred and obsession weren't mutually incompatible.

####

"Hey, Dipper," Mabel said, unfolding the living room sofa bed. 

"Hey, Mabel," Dipper said, passing through living room on his way to the stairs. He climbed up to the attic.

He came back down from the attic. "Mabel. Why's Bill asleep in your bed."

"He really needed a nap," Mabel said.

"Okay but why on your bed?"

Mabel pouted. "Dipper, do you realize he's never slept on a real bed? Ever?"

Dipper tried to imagine sleeping on a couple couch cushions on the floor every night. "Yeah, okay, that does kinda suck." Even if it was Bill's own fault he wouldn't sleep in the living room.

By unspoken mutual agreement, having a Bill in the bedroom followed the same law as finding a centipede in the bathroom. The law was "that's the centipede's bathroom now." So once the folding bed was set up, they sat on it to serve as their hang-out spot for the evening and caught each other up on what they'd done the last couple of days.

After Dipper & Co. had left, Grenda had come over to take advantage of the low gravity to retrieve the kite that had been stuck in a tree near the Mystery Shack since last summer (it was, tragically, too tattered to salvage), and then they'd gone over to Candy's house to photograph each other performing feats of impossible strength. (Mabel would be sending some pictures to their parents to confuse them, and adding the rest to her summer scrapbook.) She'd spent the next day breaking the trampoline world record until Soos came outside and said gravity was probably too low for it to be safe to be up in the air anymore, if Bill's warnings about being off the ground when gravity hit zero were true; at which point Mabel had hung around inside air-swimming until she suddenly slammed against the ceiling, and then the ground. She was fine. She just had a couple of bruises. She showed Dipper her bruises.

In return, Dipper told Mabel about how their quest had gone: the checks for micro-rips, Bill's increasingly frantic warnings, the lake—

("You got to see a bajillion magical axolotls and I didn't?!")

—the cliff, the Axolotl, Dipper's near-death experience, and what he now knew about his out-of-body dreams.

"Seriously?" Mabel hissed, eyes bugging out. "And he had us looking up lucid dreaming books! What a jerk!"

"I know! He could have just ignored the whole thing, we didn't even think it was anything but dreams."

"And I'd thought he was being so helpful, too! Like he was really trying to make up for giving you 'nightmares'!" Mabel laughed in disbelief and flopped down on the flimsy mattress. "All that because he just didn't want us to know how it was really his fault? Biiill, ugh."

His fault. Dipper hesitated, wondering whether he should tell Mabel what Bill had said about Mabel's Fault; then decided against it. Bill had probably been telling the truth when he'd said he only wanted all the credit for Weirdmageddon.

But—Dipper did tell her about Bill saving their lives. He would have felt like a liar if he hadn't—like he was trying to trick his sister into thinking Bill was worse than he already was. He hoped Ford wouldn't mind; but how could he not tell Mabel?

"He could have just let you die and didn't?" Mabel turned that over in her head, processing this sudden shift in Bill's behavior. "Wow. I'm impressed."

He also told her about their previous encounter with the Axolotl. Considering the other lies Bill had told recently, anything he said about them meeting the Axolotl was dubious at best; but Dipper could remember the Axolotl, so maybe some of it was true, even if Bill had twisted as much as he could. ("The Axolotl said hi, by the way." "Aww. Tell him hi back!" "Yeah, I... don't know how to do that.")

Dipper laid out his journal between them on the folding bed, and Mabel read over the couplet a few times. "'Sixty degrees that come in threes, watches from within birch trees'..."

"It's got to be talking about Bill," Dipper said. "Equilateral triangles have three sixty-degree angles. I just don't know why the Axolotl wanted to talk to us about him."

Mabel frowned at the lines. "I think... I remember meeting him too," she said.

"You do?"

"Kinda. Like in a dream," she said. "We were in some kind of futury space race car. And he had a really comfortable beanbag chair."

"Yes! I remembered the beanbag chair, too!" And he hadn't mentioned it in his journal. "This is great! Talking about it must... must cause us to remember, somehow. Maybe since the universe where we met the Axolotl doesn't exist anymore, our memories of it are... detached or something? Psychically floating around between dimensions until we try to remember them?" He took in Mabel's skeptical frown and shrugged. "I don't know!"

She scrunched up her face. "Ugh. Last summer's first-grader time travel was complicated enough. This is like college-level time travel. Maybe we can ask Bill how it works?"

She said it so easily, like she thought it was actually a good idea. Right after she'd heard about the lucid dreaming thing, too. "I don't think he'd help." Dipper lowered his voice. "He really didn't want Grunkle Ford and me to find out about the Axolotl—and he kept telling me not to think about what the Axolotl told me. He's trying to cover something up."

"Oo-oo-ooh." Voice dropped to a whisper, Mabel said, "Do you think it's some kind of Space Axolotl conspiracy?"

"It could be," Dipper said. "All I know is he was trying to tell us something important about Bill. Some kind of prophecy, or... maybe a warning...?"

He trailed off. Mabel had stopped listening to Dipper. She was rereading the couplet Dipper had written, moving her lips like she was murmuring under her breath—but whatever she was saying, it was much longer than the couplet Dipper had written down. Distractedly, she said, "Do you have a pen?"

"Yeah, here." Dipper quickly handed over the pen he kept in his vest.

Mabel clicked it, went to the bottom of the page, and wrote: A different form, a different time.

Dipper sucked in a sharp breath as the words snapped into place in his mind. "That's it! That was the last line! What else do you remember?"

"That's it," Mabel said. "It was free form poetry with a bunch of rhyme pairs."

"I don't think free form poetry rhymes."

"Pbbbt." Mabel blew a raspberry and shoved Dipper's face. "Whatever! You know what I mean." She pointed at the last line. "Do you think the poem's about why Bill's here? He time traveled to the Mystery Shack in a new body..."

"Exactly! Bill must be back here for a reason. He's got all those powers—or, used to, anyway—and he knows more about the multiverse than anybody on Earth... Maybe there's some kind of big threat coming, and Bill's the only one who can stop it, and—and the Axolotl wanted us to know...?"

"I like the sound of that," Mabel said. "That'd basically make him a hero, right?"

Dipper grimaced. "I mean. I guess? But we're talking about Bill. If he does help us stop a threat, it'd be like if a serial killer picked up a hitchhiker and killed him, and then it turned out the hitchhiker was an even worse serial killer."

"That still sounds kinda heroic to me."

"Pfff, okay." He looked at his journal. "But... what is he here to do?"

Mabel considered what they'd already written. "Maybe we can use him to spy on our enemies through birch trees!"

"Thaaat's probably not it."

"No, I think I'm on to something. I can feel it."

There was a lot of empty space between his couplet and Mabel's line. "There's more we're missing, though. Maybe the rest of the poem describes the threat? Or what we need to get Bill to do?"

"I can't remember anything else, though."

"Me neither."

They stared at the page together, waiting for something to come to their blank minds. Mabel looked at the fish tank. "Hey, Primrose! Do you know anything?"

The pet axolotl in the tank ignored her serenely.

Dipper said, "'Primrose'?"

"Yeah, last summer Grunkle Stan said her name is Freakface, but I thought she deserved a cuter name. She's primrose color!"

"Ford says he originally named him Nikola."

Mabel gasped. "Nikki..."

Dipper twisted around to look at the axolotl. "Do you know anything? Do you... get messages from the Axolotl's heralds, or anything...?"

Nikola slowly opened his mouth, and slowly closed it.

Mabel said, "Hey. The Axolotl's one of those dimension-crossy time-travely guys, right? He probably wouldn't have given us a prophecy in the wrong timeline and then made us forget it unless he knew we'd remember it in time in the rightdimension!"

"I guess," Dipper said uncertainly.

"So we don't need to worry about it! We'll remember it when we need to."

"Unless this timeline's going to branch, and the only one where we survive is the one where we put all our effort into trying to remembering—"

"Shhh!" Mabel put a finger over Dipper's mouth. "Uh-uh. No college time travel. We'll be fine!"

Dipper pushed her over. "Okay, but we should at least try a little to remember what the Axolotl told us."

"What if we work on it separately?" Mabel propped herself up on an elbow. "Instead of just sitting around thinking about it. And whenever we remember a line, we can tell each other and see if it makes anything click."

"That might be faster," Dipper said, stroking his chin. "We're already remembering different lines."

"Yeah! And that lucid dreaming book said something about focusing on a problem before you sleep so you can figure it out in your dreams! We can just work on it in our sleep and we'll remember it all in no time!"

Dipper laughed. "What? No way, I think lucid dreaming is just one of those made up pop psychology things. I didn't get it to work at all." Either it didn't work or Bill had deliberately recommended a terrible book.

"I did! I can remember like... eighty percent more dreams. And I can tell when I'm dreaming a lot more often!"

"Huh." Or, maybe Dipper just wasn't doing it right. "Maybe I need to start over from step one. Do you know where the book we were using went?"

"Over here!" Mabel had set a couple library books on the end table next to the sofa bed; she pulled out the second one, which had a glittery pink bookmark with a cat on it stuck two-thirds of the way through. "Just don't lose my bookmark."

"Thanks." He'd reread the first step before bed. "We should probably be getting ready for bed anyway, huh?"

"Seriously?! It's barely bedtime!" And when the adults weren't watching, official bedtime was an hour and a half before Actual Bedtime.

"I'm exhausted. I just hiked up and down a mountain and faced down death."

Mabel pointed at Nikola. "You faced down a big salamander."

"Close enough."

They went upstairs, brushed their teeth, went to their bedroom...

And stopped in the door. Bill was still asleep. "Oh. Right," Dipper said.

He was curled into a ball on his left side, facing the wall, covered with only the zodiac blanket and his borrowed/stolen top hat sitting on the side of his head. He didn't use a pillow; he'd pushed Mabel's pillows and dolls behind himself to form a squishy makeshift fortress.

"Please don't wake him up," Mabel whispered. (She'd already set up the folding bed for herself; she'd clearly planned on this.) "He's had a really really hard time the last couple of days, and I think he needs as much sleep in a real bed as he can get, and it's just for one night, and I'm sure he'd rather sleep than do anything evil—"

"He said something, didn't he?"

Mabel paused. "Yeah. I think seeing his body really messed him up."

Dipper sighed. "We were trying to keep him away from it." He didn't want Mabel to think they'd forced him to stare his own death in the face. "But he did that... eye thing and looked through the trees, and..."

Mabel nodded.

Well. Dipper couldn't kick him out now. For Mabel's sake.

As children, occasionally when they got hotel rooms with a bed too few, their parents would stick them in one bed with a barrier of pillows in between them. At age thirteen and without two crabby parents trying to get them to just go to bed after a long plane flight, they unanimously vetoed that plan. Dipper decided against asking Stan if he could sleep in Ford's unoccupied bed, both because he suspected Stan would just go upstairs and drag Bill out of the room and because he didn't want Stan to think he was scared of Bill. He wasn't scared of Bill. Not anymore. He could handle one measly night in the same room as him. Anyway, somebody had to make sure he wasn't unsupervised in their bedroom all night, right?

Dipper and Mabel quietly set a floor mirror and old lamp next to Mabel's bed, draped a sheet between them, taped on a pink poster that said "WARNING! TRIANGLE ZONE!" and was covered in stickers of triangular objects, and decided Dipper was adequately shielded. If Bill did get up during the night, he'd probably trip through the sheet and wake half the house before he got anywhere near Dipper.

Dipper went to sleep with a baseball bat in his hands.

####

"Okay," Bill said, hands on his sides, "what am I looking at here?"

The feral band members of Sev'ral Timez turned toward Bill, eyes reflecting in the dim light. They were squatting around Bill's petrified corpse like a pack of apes examining a sleek black monolith.

"Hey girl," Creggy G. said.

"Hey," Bill said. He looked down at himself. His onyx black feet hovered over the ground and the yellow glow from his exoskeleton illuminated the clearing. "Lemme cut to the chase, is this gonna turn into a raunchy dream? My corporeal love life is about as cold and dry as Antarctica, I keep hoping one of my dreams will get a little hotter and wetter—"

"Nah, G," Deep Chris said. "Mr. Bratsman got us fixed."

"Aw."

"We're here to pay you reverence for freeing our minds from the chains of the conventional," Greggy C said, gesturing to Bill's corpse. Leggy P was kneeling and bowing to it and Chubby Z was posing for it. "We want to help free you like you tried to help free humanity."

Bill's eye narrowed. He tapped a finger against the edge of one brick as he considered this offer. Finally, skeptically, he said, "Fine. I'll bite. Why should I think you can help me?"

"Because we can give you the understanding your heart's been missing, girl. You're just like us," Chubby Z said. "A horror never meant to exist, born of a dream to construct the perfect golden idol, forced to dwell within an unnaturally-fabricated human shell."

Bill tilted his head thoughtfully. "I'm with you so far."

"We want you to join us," Deep Chris said. "Cavort with us in the silvan night, G. Shun the harsh light of the spotlight for the healing salve of moonbeams. We'll get drunk on the sweet fermented summer berries, uncaring of how the brambles prick our flesh. We'll dance in a frenzy of ecstasy and only sleep when the morning sun lifts the dew from the flowers and the sweat from our skin. It'll be straight Dionysian, boo."

"We can kiss the hot trees," Creggy G said.

Bill grabbed his shoulder. "Oh, you're the human that keeps making out with birch trees! I knew your face was familiar!" He paused. "So... are there any eligible ones around here?"

"Sure, girl, just downstream."

"If I'd known, I would've polished myself first."

"Say you'll join us, Bill girl," Deep Chris said. The band crowded around Bill to either side, posing around him—the backup dancers for the star singer. "You'd be one of us."

"We're already exactly the same," Creggy G said, holding up a mirror so that it reflected his and Bill's faces beside each other. In Bill's human face were two empty white eyes with pinprick pupils and pale blue irises, exactly the same as the eyes of the Sev'ral Timez boys.

He sat up with a gasp, hands flying to his face. There were still green boughs at the edges of his dreaming vision, blending into the wooden boards of the Mystery Shack's attic. Before sleep had fully fled his mind, he seized up the zodiac blanket draped over his body and stared into his embroidered eye.

The eye stared back at him. Through it, he could see his horrified sleepy face, and his normal slitted yellow eyes. His connection to the blanket's eye disappeared as he finished waking up.

He heaved a sigh of relief and flopped back down. He'd been lucid, but he hadn't been in control of that dream. He still needed practice.

He rolled toward the light of the window, groped around beneath it until he found his journal, grabbed up his crayons, and flipped pages blearily until he found the first blank one. He started writing down his dream, pausing only briefly as he tried to figure out how to translate "Sev'ral Timez" before settling on a sufficiently goofy way to misspell "several times" in Plaintext.

He made it halfway down the page before he stopped. Hold on. This wasn't his beautiful journal. These were not his beautiful crayons. He checked the cover and grimaced in displeasure when he saw a pine tree rather than a hand. Dipper's journal. Bill ripped out the page, ate it, and set the journal and Mabel's crayons back on the table  under the bedroom window.

"What was that," Dipper asked, "some kind of Morse code?"

Bill yelped and twisted around. Dipper's soul was hovering above Mabel's headboard, watching over Bill's shoulder.

"Hey! Back, foul ghost!" Bill snatched up Mabel's pillow and swung it at Dipper.

"Ow—Hey! How did you hit me, I'm in the mindscape—"

"I said back!" Bill swung again, chasing Dipper off the bed. "Back into your fleshy tomb!" He climbed off the bed, stumbled into Dipper and Mabel's trap, tripped through the sheet and probably woke up half the house.

He yanked the sheet off and flung the pillow at Dipper by its corner. "Now get back in your body, go to sleep, and leave me alone."

"I don't know how to get back in it. I just wait until it happens by itself," Dipper said, floating irritably over his sleeping body, arms crossed. "Why do you think I just wander around every time I have this dream?" He paused. "Right—it's not a dream, is it."

Bill sighed heavily. "Try putting your body on like..." He almost said like an exoskeleton, remembered his audience, and amended himself: "Like it's clothing. I usually start with the hands. Just like putting on gloves!"

Dipper looked at the cold fingers wrapped tightly around the baseball bat. "How do I put hands on like gloves? There's no opening or—"

"Just try it, would you?" Bill sat tiredly on the edge of Mabel's bed.

Dipper shot him an irritated look, but pressed his ghostly hands against his fleshly ones, passing through the skin until one set of fingers rested inside the other. A fingertip twitched. 

Bill gestured with one hand, continue. "Now the sleeves."

"I know how to get dressed." Dipper laid down in his body, forearm into forearm, shoulder into shoulder—until he was wholly back inside. He sat up, awake. "Huh."

"There, see?" Bill said. "And if you want to take it back off, just do the same thing in reverse. Like degloving your body from your soul!"

"Did you have to phrase it like that?" Still, Dipper tried it, peeling out of his body from the fingertips up. He left his body sitting upright as he hovered over it.

Bill chuckled tiredly. "Lookit your face, staring at nothing. Stupid looking."

"Shut up." He slid back into his body, more quickly now that he knew what he was doing.

"Great," Bill said. "Now that you know how to get back in your body, never do that again." He flopped back onto Mabel's bed and rolled over to face the wall. "It's a pain in my base having you wander around all night."

"Then you should've thought of that before you ripped my soul out of my body," Dipper grumbled. "Can you reattach me to my body?"

"Sure, easy." He lifted a hand to point down at his regrettably human form. "Not like this, though. Wanna help reattach me to my body?"

"Never in a million years."

"Then come back in a million years. There's nothing I can do for you until then." Bill dragged Mabel's zodiac blanket back over himself. "So sorry. Go to sleep. Leave me alone."

Dipper bet Bill could do it and was only saying he couldn't to try to trick Dipper into helping him. But he lay back down—clutching his bat again—and shut his eyes.

After a moment, Bill asked, "Where's Mabel? Sleepover?"

"Sofa bed in the living room."

"Right."

And then there was silence.

Several minutes passed. Dipper nearly fell back asleep. He heard Bill climbing out of bed and creeping across the room; but the footsteps didn't approach Dipper's bed, so he didn't open his eyes.

A few minutes after that, Dipper heard him come back, walking more heavily. He cracked open an eye to see what Bill was up to.

He was carrying Mabel, who was still asleep; his arms were trembling from her weight, but even at that Dipper hadn't known Bill was that strong. With a quiet grunt, he set her on her bed, then haphazardly tossed her sheet and zodiac blanket over her. He picked up his top hat from the bed and put it on; and then he wandered off, footsteps quiet as a ghost, and Dipper heard the creak of the door as he left the bedroom.

That was a lot nicer than Dipper had expected from Bill. Maybe he did care about Mabel in his own way.

Mabel rolled over and latched on to one of her dolls. Dipper shut his eye and fell back asleep.

####

(My favorite part of writing this was Bill dreaming about Sev'ral Timez saying the most absurdly flowery things imaginable. Anyway, let me know what y'all think about this week's chapter! And reminder that I MIGHT skip next week or the week after because the next couple chapters need heavier editing than usual.)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #sev'ral timez #(a tag i have never used before and will probably never use again.) #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

[lovelesscherub]

steddie nsfw, d/s undertones, blowjob

Steve down on his knees is one of Eddie's favorite sights in the whole entire world.

And Steve is always so eager to please, to obey. All Eddie has to do is give him that one look and Steve just knows to drop down by Eddie's feet, big brown eyes staring up at him with something that tells Eddie I'd let you do anything to me.

Eddie doesn't use that to his advantage nearly enough. Not as much as he'd like to, anyway. If it was up to him, he'd keep Steve on his knees between his legs all day every day. He wouldn't care who was around to witness it.

And that's where Steve is the most comfortable, anyway. Relaxed and carefree. At peace. Not a single thought in that pretty head of his, just focused on Eddie's cock. Eddie likes seeing Steve like that, giving his gorgeous brain a little rest from all the daily worrying and overthinking.

A pleased little smile spreads across Eddie's lips as he looks down at Steve, being met with the gaze of those pretty eyes looking back up at him expectantly. But not impatient, never impatient like this. Good thing Eddie likes taking his time.

"Open up", he says, and the words barely have enough time to leave his mouth before Steve's lips are already parting open for him. 

"Good boy", Eddie hums, watching the tip of Steve's tongue darting out to wet those plush pink lips.

He reaches his right hand towards Steve who instinctively opens his mouth up wider, allowing for easy access for Eddie's index and middle finger. His left hand comes to rest on Steve's cheek, thumb gently brushing along his cheekbone as Steve's lips wrap around Eddie's fingers as he sucks on them.

Eddie presses the pads of his fingers down on Steve's tongue, forcing Steve's mouth to fall back open.

"You want my cock, don't you, sweetheart?" Eddie asks pointedly.

Steve nods.

"Then you can take more than that, hm?"

Steve nods again.

Eddie slides his fingers in further, teasing at the back of Steve's throat where he can feel Steve's whole body tensing up as he tries to fight his gag reflex, before he manages to relax the muscles in his throat and jaw.

"There you go. Look at you", Eddie grins, proud, fucking his now drool-slick fingers into Steve's mouth, his thick rings bruising Steve's plump lips in the process.

Steve's hands slide up Eddie's thighs to tease over the crotch of Eddie's jeans as they search for his belt. There's a glint in Steve's eyes that says two can play at this game as he looks up at Eddie and feels how hard Eddie is underneath the denim. Eddie enjoys that glint. After all, he's always known how much of a tease Steve can be.

But Steve takes his time, too. He lets Eddie's fingers train his throat as his own fingers work on undoing Eddie's belt. Then the button of his jeans. Then the zipper. Then his hands fall down to his sides and he waits patiently.

Eddie pulls his fingers out of Steve's mouth and admires his reddened pouty lips for a moment before he pushes his jeans down all the way, until they fall onto the floor around his ankles. If Steve's mouth wasn't full of saliva already, he would've started drooling right about now at the sight of the outline of Eddie's bulging cock in his underwear.

Steve's body leans in closer just the tiniest bit and it makes Eddie smirk.

"Wanna taste?"

"Yeah", Steve breathes out and nods. His voice is already a little hoarse, just a taste of what it's going to sound like after Eddie's cock is done with him.

"Go on, baby."

Steve leans in and puts his mouth over the spot where the tip of Eddie's cock is still hiding under his underwear. He licks and drools and gets the soft cotton material wet, making Eddie groan at the feel of it.

"Fuck, Stevie", and Eddie's getting impatient now, tugging his underwear down to free his poor strained cock of its confinement.

Brat, Eddie thinks to himself when he sees Steve's triumphant smile.

He strokes his cock in slow, easy movements and guides the tip to Steve's perfect fucking mouth that opens up for him without command this time.

"God", Eddie grunts as he slides into the velvety heat of that mouth. His left hand comes up, fingers carding through Steve's soft hair.

Steve's eyes flutter shut as he works his tongue around the tip of Eddie's cock, and he hums as Eddie's hips slowly work on feeding Steve a couple more inches.

Eddie keeps the pace slow for a bit, slides out and then goes back in a little bit further than the last. He makes sure that Steve is comfortable, even though it takes all the willpower he has not to slide home and down that relaxed throat.

"You can fuck my mouth, Eddie", Steve rasps and blinks up at Eddie after letting Eddie's cock fall out of his mouth completely.

"Jesus", Eddie moans, squeezes the base of his cock and tries not to come right then and there. "You sure, baby?"

"Please", Steve all but whines, and who is Eddie to deny Steve anything in the world?

He guides his cock back into Steve's mouth, and he knows that Steve means business when he holds onto the sides of Eddie's thighs to brace himself.

Eddie starts nice and easy again, but moves his hips with more and more intention as he slowly picks up the pace and thrusts into Steve's mouth.

Steve's eyes are watering but he doesn't break eye contact with Eddie even once.

"You're so fucking beautiful, Steve. Taking my cock so well, making me feel so fucking good", Eddie croons.

Steve's face is a flushed, wet mess. It really is the most beautiful fucking sight Eddie has ever seen, and he's just about ready to fucking bust.

He picks up the pace, holds onto Steve's hair a little tighter, keeps him so close that with each thrust the tip of Steve's cute little nose nudges into Eddie's dark pubes and Eddie's about to lose it.

"I'm so fucking close, baby, you're doing so good for me", Eddie moans. His voice is low and breathy, and his thrusts are losing their rhythm, hips stuttering slightly.

What tips him over the edge is the way Steve fucking swallows around his cock, even though his mouth and throat are stuffed full to the brim.

Eddie brings his free hand to the back of Steve's head while the other tugs at Steve's hair, keeps Steve's head nuzzled into his crotch as he comes down Steve's throat. In the haze of his orgasm, he hears Steve splutter slightly, then feels him swallow around him, making him shiver.

"Fuck, Stevie, you're unreal", Eddie groans as he eases himself out of Steve's mouth.

Steve's eyes are shiny and a little red, cheeks wet, lips swollen, and the corners of his mouth slick with saliva and whatever he didn't manage to swallow. And he's looking up at Eddie with a bright, pleased smile.

"Love you", Steve says in a hoarse voice that's barely above a whisper, and it goes straight to Eddie's heart.

Eddie lets out a breathy laugh as he falls down onto his knees, jeans and underwear still pooling around his ankles. He tackles a laughing Steve onto the floor on his back, and hovers over him with the biggest shit-eating grin on his lips.

"Fucking love you more than anything, sweetheart", he beams and kisses all over Steve's face before capturing that heavenly mouth in a deep kiss.

#steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #oops i wrote steddie smut please be nice to me!!! #my writing

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  @wynnyfryd! Wynnyfryd has 34 fics in the Stranger Things fandom and all of them are in the Steddie tag!

i don’t know, you figure it out

Plot Holes

biting you biting you biting you- oh! kissing you!

Satanic Ritual: DO NOT WATCH!!

She's got some of the FUNNIEST writing in this fandom, and it's very snappy too like. She's an editing demon for sure, she can take a concept that I'd think would take paragraphs to explain and find the right words to make it hit just as hard with like, two sentences. I also really really love how descriptive her metaphors are, really visceral sometimes, and she's really good at writing realistic life events but still making them fun to read about even when it's about like, devastating shit. The sex she writes is also intense as hell! -- @griefabyss69

Below the cut, @wynnyfryd answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

I am but a humble bisexual — I see two beautiful brown-eyed men makin’ beautiful brown eyes at each other, I go a little insane for two years. It is what it is.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

late-night moments of quiet hopeful hesitant intimacy over a shared joint or cigarette. Thin wisp of smoke between them, stars dancing in their eyes. Yeah. YEAHHHHHHH 

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

This isn’t really a trope so much as a dynamic, but I love a good dipshit 4 dingus dialogue-heavy scene. Don’t get me wrong, I think Eddie and Steve can both be very smart and knowledgeable in their areas of interest/expertise, but these are two young dudes with no access to the internet. I love letting them be confidently incorrect dumbasses. Just ‘yes and’-ing each other’s stupidity while an exasperated third character begs for mercy.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

Well, this question is impossible and furthermore rude. This question came into my home and didn’t take its muddy boots off. This question never mailed me a thank you letter for my lovely wedding gift. That blender was expensive; the absolute nerve. No but seriously, I think The Lathe by palmviolet is going to stay with me forever.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I’m a big fan of doing canon divergence from different jumping off points — the beauty of having characters live in the same small town their whole lives is that you get so many great opportunities for these “what if our paths crossed sooner” moments.  I have some very loose notes for a S3 fic where Eddie is the movie theater employee who finds Steve and Robin in the bathroom after they escape the Russians, and I also have an old WIP set between S1 and S2 where lifeguard Steve rescues Eddie and then spends the summer teaching him how to swim. Would love to revisit those after I finish the trailer park AU (which I will be referring to as TPAU because my fingers are tired and because ‘toilet paper au’ makes me laugh.)

What is your writing process like?

Uhhhhh. 😂 I mean, for TPAU, basically just insert the scene from Dune 2 of Paul’s first sandworm ride: I’m shaking I’m sweating there is sand in my nostrils and I am surely about to die— oh wait, maybe I’ve actually got this? Am I actually doing it? Oh shit, look at me go!   For one-shots I like to use a more structured outline and bracket method. I start by dividing my doc into numbered scenes, with each scene getting a notes section and a prose section, like this:

This format gives me a lot of freedom to switch up the order of scenes and to move between scenes so I avoid writer’s block. I can also jump ahead to scenes I really want to write without making a mess of my outline. Once I have something written in the prose section of each scene, I go back and work on replacing each bracket with prose until there are no brackets left. Lastly, I create a new blank doc and copy the prose over in order so I can read the full fic and work on edits from there.  

Do you have any writing quirks?

I have been known to abuse a semicolon. And an em dash. And a conjunction at the start of a sentence. Yes, I do have ADHD.   I’m also a lyricist, so I feel like my prose tends to stray into poetry territory pretty often.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

When I’m finished! Which is probably why I tend to stick to one-shots; I get impatient and want to post stuff the second it’s ready.

Which fic are you most proud of?

‘i don’t know, you figure it out’ for SURE. I’ve never written a fic this long or stuck to a writing project this consistently in my life. Like ever. The last time I even came close was my first NaNoWriMo when I was 16, which was, uh… years ago, plural, and I’ll leave it at that. 😂

How did you get the idea for i don’t know, you figure it out?

“There’s a dead rat on his doorstep.” That’s it. That first sentence/scene popped into my head while I was bored at work, and then I started thinking, “hey, you know what? I don’t know that anyone’s ever done a fic where Max and Steve trade places for S4; that might be fun.”  And then NaNoWriMo was coming up, so I thought it would be cool to try live posting a fully improvised fic every day for a month to see how many words I could write. And then this tragic wet cat version of Steve Harrington grabbed me by the throat and took over my whole life.

When writing Satanic Ritual: DO NOT WATCH!!, what was something you didn’t expect?

How SAPPY these two got!! My god, boys, I’m trying to write smut over here, stop having a beautiful existential crisis! (I blame Briston Maroney for that though lol, I think I listened to ‘Body’ like 1400 times that month.)

What inspired Satanic Ritual: DO NOT WATCH!!?

@inklessletter posted this totally gorgeous art of Steve and Eddie recording themselves kissing, and I promptly lost my mind.  

What was your favorite part to write from biting you biting you biting you- oh! kissing you!?

This exchange: Steve: “What? I’m just asking!” Robin: “You’re being embarrassing!” Steve: “No, you’re just embarrassed. There’s a difference.” Like it’s just so them lmao

How do/did you feel writing i don’t know, you figure it out?

You know when you set out on a long hike in the summer and three hours later your calves are screaming and you’re covered in sweat and your sunburn’s starting to itch and this one horse fly won’t fuck off and your cell phone doesn’t even get service out here so literally WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO YOURSELF, and then you climb that last hill and look out on the most beautiful landscape you’ve ever seen in your silly little life? Basically that.

What was the most difficult part of writing Plot Holes?

Ooh, that one was fun! The only real difficulty was trying to keep it to a microfic because the concept could definitely be fleshed out to a full story — @griefabyss69 and I were joking around about “what if someone did ‘plot hole’ for the @steddiemicrofic prompt fill?” and then that fic just fell out of my head in about 15 minutes. 

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

For sure! I’m currently super proud of the graveyard scene in the most recent update of TPAU — I don’t write true horror often, but I love horror so it was really fun to give it a try! Favorite line from any fic is probably this reference to ‘You’re Divine’ in my fic Monsoon Season because I love uncomfortably-aroused prude Eddie, and his internal monologue cracks me up every time I think about it: Freddie Monsoon’s debut novel is called The Fourth Chime, and it is, as far as Eddie can tell, the first installment in a series of unapologetically filthy fuck fests about a man whose lover gets flung into an alternate dimension during an apocalyptic event and miraculously returns as some sort of… sexy bat-boy with a fucking horse dong and a bite kink. Critics are calling it “the most romantic novel of the last decade.” It’s me; I’m Critics.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

My main project right now is finishing TPAU if it kills me, but beyond that, I have a few one-shots for @subeddieweek in the works, including a collab with @griefabyss69 that I’m so so SO excited to share. It’s hot, it’s funny, I can’t wait for y’all to read it. 

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

First of all, as @wormdebut would say: I think you’re pretty. Thank you so much for all your hard work! I love this blog, and I love answering questions <3 Secondly: - Preheat your oven to 400 degrees. - Toss cubed sweet potatoes and parsnips, sliced sweet onion, and fresh garlic in a mix of olive oil, salt, pepper, and rosemary, and then spread in a single layer on a foil-lined baking sheet.  - Bake for ~40-45 minutes. (Potatoes and parsnips should be soft without being mushy when you poke them with a fork.) - Prep your sauce: I made a dijon drizzle situation by mixing olive oil mayo, a dash of dijon mustard, lemon juice, salt, pepper, garlic powder, and a splash of water, but you could also add a little dab of hot sauce, bbq sauce, or different mustards. Basically just grab like four condiments out of your fridge and play around with the flavors you like until you make a mix that’s thin enough to pour. - Drizzle roasted veggies with sauce. - Enjoy a very tasty side dish (or do what I did and eat the whole sheet as a meal like some sort of parsnip goblin because you were too lazy to make the main dish after chopping all those veggies) okay thank you love you byeeeee

Thank you to our author, @wynnyfryd, and our nominator, @griefabyss69! See more of Wynnyfryd's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

#writer's spotlight #steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #ao3 writer #steddie writers #writer's wednesday

[steddieas-shegoes]

🧁Congrats on 3k followers!🧁 You were the first steddie person I followed and I'm still so glad I did! 💕

For the sentence prompt, I'm picking a line from my favorite love song - Fair by The Amazing Devil:

"Darling, I was born to press my head between your shoulder blades at night when light is fading"

Me? The first?! That’s a huge honor and I am definitely not crying about it (lying). I hope you enjoy!

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

Steve’s migraines were bad when it rained, even worse when he’d been outside all day. Nothing helped except sleeping it off.

And pressure in just the right spot on his forehead.

It was hard to get it right on his own, and Robin was always just a bit too harsh with her fingertips against his skin, pressing too much at once in too many places. Eddie managed to touch just right sometimes, but it was hit or miss.

It was so fucking frustrating.

Eddie was frustrated too, especially when the pain got to a point that Steve didn’t even want him near him. Every smell, sound, and accidental touch made him nauseous.

They had rain most of the day, and Steve’s work day had started with Keith berating him for not rewinding one tape before putting it back on the shelf. It ended with a customer trying to steal candy from the shelves and yelling at Steve when he got caught.

By the time he got home, he could barely feel his fingers from how hard he’d been clenching the steering wheel as he drove, doing his best to focus on the road ahead. He just had to get home, then he could wash his face and get in bed.

Eddie was playing music while he made dinner, and it was nearly impossible for Steve to do anything but rush past the kitchen to their bedroom. Eddie would figure it out quickly.

Within minutes, Steve was standing at the bathroom sink in only his underwear, hot water running over the washcloth he planned on holding on his face until he could breathe again.

“Stevie, you okay?” Eddie whispered when he walked into the room.

“Migraine.”

“I’ll get you some water and the ice pack.”

Steve lost track of time as he finished up in the bathroom and settled in bed. His head wasn’t pounding so much as exploding into new galaxies every time he blinked. Somehow, closing his eyes made it worse.

He managed to make himself as comfortable as possible, barely even moving when Eddie placed the ice pack on his forehead and eyes.

“10?” Eddie asked as softly as possible, keeping his distance, but staying close enough for Steve to touch him.

“Mhm.”

“You need me to sleep on the couch?”

“No.”

The bed shifted slightly as Eddie moved further under the covers on his side. “Okay. I’m right here, sweetheart.”

The spot on his forehead was pulsing and the ice pack wasn’t doing shit.

“Turn on your side,” Steve asked, voice shaking as he tried to bite back a whimper of pain.

He felt Eddie move, and when he reached a hand out to see if he’d understood what he asked, he couldn’t help his lip turning up at the corner in an attempt at a smile.

Sometimes he was convinced the bat bites had connected them in more ways than the soft camaraderie of recovery. Sometimes it felt like they were reading the other so well, they shared a brain.

Steve slowly moved forward, wincing when his body made contact with Eddie’s. Steve pulled the ice pack away.

“Sweetheart?”

“Just a sec,” he replied.

Eddie was as still as a statue, something so rare, he probably reserved it for these moments.

Another reason Steve was certain Eddie was better than he deserved.

Steve leaned his head forward, letting out a small groan when his forehead made contact with Eddie’s back, right between his shoulder blades.

He pressed his head forward, not able to relax until he found-

There.

He nearly moaned with relief.

“Found it, angel?” Eddie whispered, not wanting to ruin the moment of painless ecstasy Steve was experiencing.

“Mm.”

“Stay as long as you need,” Eddie added before focusing on slow breathing so he wouldn’t disrupt Steve’s resting place.

Steve sighed and let himself enjoy this moment for as long as possible. He closed his eyes.

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

When Steve woke up, the light was almost gone between the curtains and Eddie’s breathing was slowed like he was asleep.

His head still ached, but the pounding had gone, and when he looked down at Eddie’s face, everything was clear.

He’d found a place to heal in Eddie. First, his arms, then his heart, and now, the place between his shoulders.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #asks #follower celebration

[misc-obeyme]

Ah, you want lucifer sub? I have another idea for you then! Feel free to ignore if you had enough nsfw drabbles tho lol Theres a card in NB where lucifer tries to force mc a truth apple or whatchamacallit to see who mc really is, but Beel ended up eating it instead. Anyway in p4 he tries to earn mc's forgiveness by going to the castle for barb's cooking. What if then, at the table, mc remembers that in the og timeline, lucifer and mc constantly played with shibari on each other? Hmm... So then, that's his punishment. Early Avatar of Pride, getting tied up in his own room. Blindfolded Anyway, hope you like the idea. 🍄 Love you CC

Augh, 🍄 anon, shibari is like one of my favorite things ever. It just looks so pretty!?!? And Lucifer is also very pretty????

Yes, I thoroughly enjoyed writing this. I do have that card and remembered this particular Devilgram. It had an excellent line from Barb that I took the time to screenshot and then forgot about until much later. Something about having cake, I don't remember exactly. It's in my posts somewhere lol.

Anyway! Sub!Lucifer is everything to me, so here he is. I like the idea of NB Lucifer specifically not understanding why he trusts MC. He even says in the Devilgram something about how there was a connection between them the moment MC showed up. But this is a minor detail, I just find it interesting.

GN!MC x Lucifer

NSFW MDNI

Warnings: sub!Lucifer, dom!MC, shibari, blindfold, praise, hand job

Lucifer held himself incredibly still. He would not squirm. He would not give you the satisfaction.

It was difficult. He wanted to give in already.

You had spent quite some time carefully tying the black and red ropes around his body. Securing knots, ensuring they were tight but not too tight. Perhaps he should have been anxious as you brought his hands behind his back and tied them in place. Perhaps he should have been concerned when you tied the blindfold over his eyes. Perhaps he should have been worried about how vulnerable he was allowing himself to be with you.

And perhaps he was all of those things. But the fire it ignited in his belly was too powerful to ignore. The thrill of your touch, the way his skin tingled any time you brushed your fingers against it. Knowing that you were seeing him completely exposed, that he was entirely at your mercy, that you were in control of him in a way no one else has ever been.

The ropes rubbed against him, an uncomfortably pleasing sensation. The blindfold was his own tie, which you had utilized for this purpose and its soft silkiness was an exciting contrast to the harsher feeling of the ropes.

When you were finished, you moved away and left him there.

Lucifer was kneeling on his own bed, tied up and blindfolded, waiting for you to touch him again.

He couldn't see himself, but he could imagine the sight. You seemed to already know the intricacies of shibari. The pattern was elegant and complex - turning him into a sensual work of art.

Lucifer waited. He could be patient. He refused to let you see just how affected he was. He couldn't do anything about his obvious erection, which was straining. But he would keep the rest of himself as composed as possible.

"So," you said and your voice was close. "Are you sorry for trying to get me to eat that apple?"

Lucifer hesitated. "I've let you tie me up and blindfold me, haven't I? Is that not proof enough?"

"I won't make you say it," you said. "I could see it in your eyes as I was tying you up. You trust me, don't you? Despite being suspicious of who I am and what my motives might be, you still trust me."

Lucifer frowned. "I don't-"

You pressed a finger to his lips. "You don't need to lie about it. You can trust me, Lucifer. I promise."

Lucifer was about to disagree with you, but whatever he might have said left his mind immediately as you took his cock in your hand. He sucked in a breath. Your hand felt soft, slightly damp with your sweat, which soon mingled with his precum.

Lucifer's resolve not to squirm crumbled. He couldn't hold perfectly still now, his hips moving involuntarily to thrust into your hand. He bit his lip, determined at least not to moan.

"Don't do that," you said, putting your thumb on his lower lip and pulling it gently out of his teeth. "Let me hear you."

Lucifer felt his skin grow hot as the moan he'd been trying to hold back escaped him. As soon as it did, it was as though a dam had broken and he couldn't stop making noise.

"Ah," he cried. "MC, please, ah!"

"Good boy," you said sweetly. "Now come for me."

Lucifer immediately came all over your hand, a strangled cry ripping itself from his throat as he did. Lucifer was panting, his body's muscles relaxing, but he was still tied up so stiffly, he couldn't go anywhere. You allowed him to lean on you long enough to catch his breath.

Lucifer quickly learned that he was far from done with his apology and it was much later into the night before you were willing to forgive him.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#making that old man cry out MC's name is just very fulfilling #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me smut #obey me imagines #obey me fanfic #obey me lucifer #om lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer x mc #om lucifer x reader #om lucifer x mc #x reader #misc naughty times #request #🍄 anon #misc writes

[achveronx]

How about romantic hcs with robin x gender neutral!reader who also has wings I think it would be fun:p

The singers dove

Synopsis - Robin dating a halovian!reader

Warnings/Content - gn!reader, fluff, headcanons, halovian!reader, LOTS AND I MEAN LOTS OF PHYSICAL AFFECTION (sorry none physical touch lovers), mentions of harassment, ooc Robin?, yall act like a married couple, tiny bit of crack, possible grammar mistakes, not proofread

A/N: I had so much fun writing this, i think Robin is my fav hsr character next to Acheron! Still funny how i have 0 Acheron fics, BUT LETS IGNORE THAT FOR NOW- Overall enjoy the fic! Also i couldnt think of an end hc so its pretty random😭 (Yk now i look back at it, its kinda similar to my "dating hcs w/ robin" fic-)

Tags: none yet

☆Before yall started dating. To say Robin was shocked would be an understatement.. She never expected to meet another fellow Halovian like her and her brother, but she was also glad to find someone similar to her!

★Due you guys being the same type of species, you guys got along fairly quickly. Eventually you guys got in an official relationship

☆Robin was already touchy with you before yall started dating, but that doubled after you guys got together. Handholding, kisses, hugs, pet names, compliments, etc. Robin is smothering you with affection (not that you are complaining)

★But Robin doesn't want you to be uncomfortable, so if you tell her that her affection makes you uncomfortable. She'll stop, tho it does make her a tiny bit sad, but she understands

☆You guys definitely act like yoi guys are married, you already live together, cook together. Just general domestic stuff

★One of Robin's favorite moments and activities are when you guys preen eachothers wings. Since Halovian's wings are quite sensitive, it's can be handful to preen them. But now that she has someone who can help her and is familar with them since you're also a Halovian, she knows that you would do a wonderful job and vice versa<33

☆Due Robin being a popular star across the cosmo, it's no surprise that she's busy, but also her fanbase! Most of her fans were supportive of her relationship for you, but some of them weren't so happy.. So unhappy that they started to harass you. Though Robin found out rather quick and warned (threatened) them to never do that again or they will suffer the consequences

★After that little incident, Robin became slightly protective you. Scared that you would be harassed or even attacked by one of her fans, but you always reassured that you would be fine<33

☆One of the most funniest thing to see is when yall bicker, bc yall bicker like an old married couple. Talking about arguments. Fights dont happen often between you two and when they to they get quickly resolved

★Robin does love friendly fights specifically tickle fights and pillow fights! It makes her feel like a child again. She also just gets to spend more time with you<3

☆You guys are a match made in heaven and live happily ever after♡

Reblogs are appreciated!!

@𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒙★

#★achveronx writingメ #hsr robin x reader #robin hsr #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #x gn reader #hsr x gn reader #honkai star rail x gn reader

[kentopedia]

˚₊‧꒰ა skin — chuuya nakahara

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎. chuuya's acting different… but you brush it off and don't think anything of it.

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈. fluff, suggestive but sfw, f!reader, domestic life, established relationship, implied dubcon, open ending, horror/mystery elements, wc: 2.5k

𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈. i'm a bit nervous to see how this will be received, so pls reblog or drop a comment if you enjoy <3

part of my summerween series !

the scent of freshly brewed coffee and your favorite breakfast food are the first things that you smell when you wake up. for a few moments, you think it’s a dream — when’s the last time chuuya cooked this early in the morning? you half expect to walk out there and wake up again later, finding that you’d never opened your eyes at all.

but when you roll out of bed, tug a robe over your shoulders, chuuya is there, a presence larger than life, almost, standing in front of the stove, and you are undeniably awake.

you wrinkle your eyebrows together, glancing at the plates scattered across the counter. in your two years of marriage, this is the first that you’ve seen such a display. chuuya isn’t a morning person, he never has been, and usually something quick is enough to settle his stomach for a while.

“chuuya?” you asked, sitting at the table, his back still turned to you. he’s fully dressed, hair falling in loose waves over his shoulders, burning brighter from the sun filtering in through the window. “what are you doing?” 

your husband turns, smiling at you over his shoulder. as always, it takes your breath away. he is so handsome, sometimes, it makes you forget yourself. “can’t i cook for my beautiful wife?” he asks, sliding a cup of coffee to you on the tabletop. 

you smile, as his hands graze your temple, brushing your hair behind your ear. “you never cook breakfast. you don’t like it.”  besides, this is far too much for two people to enjoy.

he laughs, leaning down to kiss your forehead, then the small, confused wrinkle between your eyes. it slips away as you sit up straighter, capture his lips with your own, tasting the coffee on his mouth.

“but you do,” chuuya says.

you’re honestly indifferent towards breakfast, but you let it slide, tucking your chin into your hand as you watch him work away. if he wants to do something nice, you’re not going to stop him. “weren’t you supposed to leave for a job this morning?” 

chuuya shrugs, “i’m reassigned, i guess the boss wanted to send akutagawa instead. i’ll be staying in the city for this one, so you won’t get the chance to miss me.” 

it makes sense now, why he had so generously made you breakfast. you stand, taking a longer sip of your coffee, before going to wrap your arms around his stomach, smell the hot food that wafts from behind him. “oh, so you had some time to kill?” you tease, running your hands across his abdomen. “and you decided to cook instead of doing… something else?” 

your fingers trace a pattern around the zipper of his jeans, which are steadily growing tighter. chuuya grabs your wrist, tugs your hands away with a pointed look. “yes,” he says, through his teeth. “and you’re making it difficult.” 

you lazily grin back, pressing one last kiss to his jawline before grabbing your coffee again, and standing beside him at the counter. 

chuuya cooks with a precision that you’re not sure you’ve ever seen before, delicately measuring each ingredient, tapping them into the bowls and pans. usually, he goes by his own instincts, and while he is by no means a great cook, he pulls things together in a way that only he could do. now, though, he seems almost uncertain, like he’s silently praying that everything will turn out alright.

“chuuya?” you ask, watching him carefully. his face contorts strangely as he looks over at you, but then it clears up, and he smiles, looking just as warm as he did the moment you walked into the room. 

“yeah, baby?” 

you want to ask him if he’s feeling alright—but that would shatter the mood, wouldn’t it? the serene morning bliss that has settled between you, as it so rarely seems to anymore. and it’s a blessing, not to have to watch him walk out that door and put himself in danger, able to spend more time with you. 

shaking your head, you smile, and kiss him on the cheek softly. “never mind. i love you.” 

“love you too.” he says it back immediately, which is also a little unlike your husband. there is always a pause before, like he’s not sure he’s allowed to maintain this sort of affection, like it’ll be taken away if he dares to speak the truth. he cherishes the love he has for you in that tiny pause, before relinquishing it, shoulders only relaxing when he sees you standing there, safe and sound. 

but it’s been years since you’ve been together. you’re married, settled down — as settled as he can be as a mafia executive. perhaps he’s just relaxed into the fact that your love is eternal, and he's more confident in the notion that it won’t be taken away from him. 

the rest of the morning passes quickly, when you and chuuya find yourselves back into bed, mouths still tasting of coffee, the windows open just enough to clear out the smell of sweat between you, and the pans that have not fully been scrubbed. 

at some point, you feel asleep, and you wake back up, overheated from the sheets tucked closely to your naked body. the sunlight filtering in through the glass is worse than metal of a furnace. your hair sticks to your scalp, and you spend the next half hour in the shower, dreading the looming months of summer and the heat that comes with it.

although there’s plenty of things for you to do while chuuya’s gone, you don’t feel like doing much of anything. just one of those days, you reason, even if it’s hard to rationalize that, when chuuya’s out there risking his life, and you’re inside, mindlessly scrolling through your phone and the picking up books you can’t bring yourself to read.

it’s a blur of a day, between very slowly making your way through the pile of laundry you’d forgotten to fold, and cleaning the sheets that had been washed just a few days earlier. chuuya returns, and suddenly, your foul mood caves into something much more pleasant, that pit in your stomach dissipating. 

you still worry about him, constantly, even though you know he’s chuuya nakahara, and there are very few things on this earth that can challenge him. still, he’s your husband—you can’t help it.

chuuya kisses you as he returns, smiling into it, his fingers curling into the hair behind your ears. 

“i can make dinner tonight,” you say, even though you don’t really feel like it. but he sees right through it, just like you knew he would. you can’t hide much from him. 

“it’s okay. i’ll pick something up. know you haven’t been feeling up to it this week.” 

you smile and kiss the palm of his hand, the leather of his glove cool against your mouth. how nice it is to be so loved by him, to be seen, for even the simplest of signs. “okay. thanks.” 

he nods, leaves to retreat into the bedroom and change his dirtied shirt into a clean one. it’s then, that you notice he’s laid his coat across the back of one of your chairs — unusual, for him to wear it so far into the house. 

you furrow your brow and pick it up, planning on hanging it on the rack by the door. but you notice, then, that it’s an older one, different from the coat he normally wears. the designer is the same, but there’s a hole in the pocket, which tells you he didn’t care enough to have it fixed. 

an odd feeling twists itself inside you again. a bout of paranoia, likely. that’s all, isn’t it? you’re just having an off day, an off week, and you’re projecting that onto your husband, for no reason at all. 

a sigh escapes you, and you shake your head, simply hanging it back up on the coat rack, when you notice his hat isn’t there either. 

you frown, glancing back over your shoulder to the chair, the rest of the room. chuuya hadn’t been wearing it when he’d walked in, and you can’t remember seeing it on the rack before he left this morning. 

which was odd. chuuya never went anywhere without it.

you jump, a vibration pulling you out of your thoughts, your cell phone ringing, buzzing on the table right by the doorway. it’s chuuya’s name flashing across the screen, a photo of him bright under the glass.

“hello?”

“hey, baby.” 

you release a breath at the sound of chuuya’s voice. it instantly relaxes you, even though you, really, have no reason to be so alarmed.

your shoulders sink down, the tension draining from your body, and you smile instead, amused that he’s calling you from just one room over. the affectionate name twists your stomach up in butterflies and knots, and you roll your eyes. “hi, chuuya.” 

“you have time to talk right now?” 

“i suppose.” 

“you suppose,” chuuya replies, snorting. “and here i thought you’d be happier to hear from me. i was about to apologize for not calling you earlier and everything.” 

that’s a weird thing to say, you think. “chuuya, you know, you didn’t need to call. you could’ve just walked back in here.” 

there’s a pause on the other end, a muffled sound in the background, like he’s getting out of a car. “what do you mean?” 

“i mean you could’ve just walked back in here.”

he doesn’t seem to understand, and fakes a laugh. “very funny.” there’s a voice on the other end, and chuuya says something to the sound, before turning his attention back to you on the phone. your brow furrows, eyes drifting over to the door. “anyway, i only have a few minutes, but—”

 “chuuya,” you say, feeling a tiny rush of fear swallow you. something is wrong. there’s no one in your house besides you and chuuya, and he’s been in your bedroom for minutes. you turn back around, facing the front door. "where are you?” 

“huh? i’m in osaka, remember? i told you about the entire thing last night.” he sighs, something between irritation and amused fondness.  “we had a pretty long conversation about it.” 

“osaka?” you repeat. “but—i just saw you. just a few minutes ago. just this morning”

there’s silence on the other end of the line, as chuuya breathes, gathers his thoughts. you can tell, even within a second, that he’s either trying not to panic, or let his confusion give way to anger. “no, you didn’t. i left early this morning, you were still sleeping—”

“who are you talking to?” 

you freeze. it comes from chuuya, but the chuuya that’s behind you, not the one you’re talking to on the phone. there’s a pinched look on his face as you turn, pretending like nothing is wrong. a guarded expression that wasn’t there before. 

your mind goes blank as you stare at him, mouth growing dry. “i—”

“say dazai,” chuuya says through the static of the phone. you’re not sure how he heard the imposter at all, but it settles you, snapping you back into action.

“dazai?” you nearly spit.

it’s not often you chat with dazai, of all people, on the phone. you’re not particularly close. but it’s a good call by chuuya. dazai wouldn’t be keeping tabs on the port mafia member’s whereabouts, wouldn’t know that chuuya was out of town, and akutagawa was never reassigned. but he’s still dangerous. still someone that could be a threat to whoever is pretending to be your husband.

“dazai," you continue, recovering from your questioning response smoothly. "can i call you back later?”

chuuya speaks to you the other line, playing along. “i’m going to call someone to come over there. pretend like nothing’s wrong. everything will be okay.” 

you feel tears prick the back of your eyes — you don’t want chuuya to hang up, but if the fake chuuya finds out you know, it could be an even worse outcome. 

“okay. got it. i'll call you tomorrow then.” 

“i love you.”

you resist the urge to answer the sentiment, and hang up the phone. 

the fake chuuya stares back at you, as intently as you stare at him, neither of you blinking as you put your phone back into your pocket.

“what did dazai want?” he asks, standing straight, his back tense as you take a step forward. 

there are a lot of weapons hidden around this house—chuuya has more than a handful of enemies, and wants to be prepared in case they ever find where he lives. where you live. 

you’d thought it overkill. now, you’re grateful to have at least a fighting chance; if you can only get to the pistol that he keeps in the closet, at the end of the hallway. 

“he’s working on a case. thought i might have some intel. i told him i’d look over the details tomorrow.” 

“i see.” chuuya — not chuuya, you remind yourself, even though he’s wearing his face — nods. he watches you walk closer the closet door, eyes darting between the handle and your body. his eyes flash. 

“you know,” he says, crisply, stopping you in your tracks. “i thought the phone might cause some issues. should’ve blocked the number this morning. amateur mistake on my part.”

“what do you mean?”

“i mean your husband called, didn’t he? the real one.” not chuuya smiles, but it’s ugly, almost as if it’s contorting, melting off his face. “you know he’s been gone all morning. it wasn’t him who made you breakfast, took you to bed after.” 

nausea fills your gut, and you look away, swallowing down the disgust that you feel. you can’t think about that. not now. 

“although, you wouldn’t have known by the way i touched you, would you? how i knew exactly what you enjoy. i have every one of chuuya’s memories now. i know all about him, all about you.” he takes a long stride. you’re both just a pace away from the door, from the gun. if he has any of chuuya’s strength, you’ll lose—you’re no match for that kind of power. 

you just need to hold him off, long enough for whoever chuuya sends over to help you. 

“and also,” the fake chuuya continues lazily, a laugh clipping at the end of his words. “i know about the gun you’re looking for.”

there’s a dark grin on his face that propels you into action. you lunge towards the closet door, throwing it open, and chuuya lets you. he laughs darkly, doesn’t make any attempt to stop you from fumbling around the inside of closet for a gun that he put there. it doesn’t take you long to figure out why.

the gun isn’t there.

thank you so much for reading! ❤︎ title and inspiration come from ep 1.06 of supernatural- tag list: @little-miss-chaoss @erebus-et-eigengrau @soleelia @k0z3me

#chuuya x you #chuuya nakahara #bsd x reader #bsd x you #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya nakahara x you #chuuya x fem!reader #chuuya #bsd #bungo stray dogs #xoxo rylie 💌 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ #chuuya fluff #chuuya x gn reader #chuuya nakahara x gn!reader #chuuya nakahara x fem!reader #chuuya x y/n #nakahara chuuya x reader #bsd imagines #bsd fanfic

[final-script]

First Date | YT22

Pairing: Yuki Tsunoda x Reader

Sumary: Where Yuki cooks for you on your first date.

Warnings: English is not my first language !!!There are probably many mistakes (I will correct them later),

Gif: princemick

--------------------------

On your first date…

Yuki decided, that she wanted both of them to have something made by their own hands and that she was familiar with. 

Something that also turned out to be one of your favorite foods.    Sushi.

How Japanese found out was more than delighted. 

Being a first date, I wanted as much privacy as possible.

So I invite you to his apartment, where he would prepare dinner.

De vez en cuanto te permitirá ayudarlo, pero el mismo principalmente haría todo.

He sought with all his being to blow your mind and impress you.

(...)

Yuki would take care of the dinner, you took care of bringing a good wine to go with it.

Y/N- I feel bad letting you do everything.   You expressed.

Y- you're my guest in the least I can do.

Y/N- Still.   After having insisted several times, he let you assemble some pieces with him.

Between preparations they talked about common tastes, agreeing on some things and differentiating on others.

Thus discovering new ways to share together in the future.

When they finished, they moved to the small room where they had set up the space to enjoy dinner.

(...)

It all felt very homey, making you and Yuki feel even more comfortable being alone together. 

(...)

Late at night when it was time to leave, we both showed signs of not wanting tonight to end, but at the same time I had to.

With a kiss on the cheek we closed the night at the door of his home.

Saying goodbye also with the promise of meeting again to enjoy a moment together and continue getting to know each other.

----------------

ANOTHERS

FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

First Moves - Lando Norris x Reader

#yuki tsunoda #visa cashapp rb #yuki tsunoda x reader #yukitsunodaoneshot #yuki tsunoda fic #yuki tsunoda imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 one shot #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 imagine

[joeyalohadream]

Clegan Modern Neighbors! AU

This will be a multi-chapter buck x bucky modern AU and they're neighbors! I'm excited and also nervous for this one, but eager to share. I have it all mapped out, but figured I'd get the introduction out there to see if there is any interest.

Title: Never Thought I’d Fall for the Boy Next Door

Introduction –

The unit next to Bucky’s own in the quaint lakeside apartment building near the marina in Manitowoc has been vacant since the red eviction notice was hung on the door back in May. Now, only days away from August beginning Bucky notices a change for the first time in weeks.

He exits the elevator upon his return from the marina, sweat soaked and sunburnt from working in the hot summer sun all morning. As he walks past the vacant 6B, he notices that the door is ajar. His footsteps halt out of curiosity, but as he’s about to give a gentle knock, the door swings open and he smiles as he’s greeted by Robert Rosenthal exiting the unit.

“Rosie, my favorite landlord!” Bucky moves to close the space between them to go in for his typical enthusiastic full body handshake but is swatted with the clipboard in his friend’s hand before he can make contact.

“Keep your sweaty paws to yourself Egan,” Rosie grumbles, but still smiles and nods in lieu of Bucky’s preferred physical greeting.

Bucky throws him an exaggerated pout but backs off with his hands raised placatingly. Rosie and he have known each other since their days playing high school baseball and while Bucky loves to push his buttons, he can acknowledge that he’s a little more than ripe at the moment.

“So, what brings you up to my floor? I haven’t seen you around much since that yahoo finally moved outta here.”

Bucky had been more than happy to see his last neighbor go. Bucky had lived in this building, in 6A, since he returned from college six years ago and he was proud of the work and care he’d put into it to make it a home. Other than his ma’s house, no place was more comfortable to him than the little nook he’d carved out for himself in this building.

He'd gone through many neighbors over the years. It’s a small place, typically attracting young couples on their way to saving to buy their first home. Most of his experiences had been positive. He’s a friendly guy and he always wants to make new friends, so the forced proximity of sharing this corner of the hallway with 6B inevitably leads to some meetups.

The first neighbor Bucky had had was a man, a couple years his junior, by the name of Curt Biddick. He’d moved in to get a break away from his parents, who he had since learned came from old money, and a lot of it. He and Bucky had become fast friends, a shared love of food, alcohol and sports had led to many an evening in each other’s spaces.

Once Curt had finished his culinary classes at the technical school downtown, he’d reconnected with his family and eventually moved out to a large house right on the water. Bucky spends almost every weekend over there lazing about the beach and the pool and utilizing all of Curt’s waterfront toys.

When Curt isn’t helping his father run the two restaurants he owns, he’s collaborating with Bucky on his podcast, and Bucky couldn’t be more grateful to Rosie that he’d leased 6B to someone who grew to be one of his closest friends.

While his first ever neighbor turned out to be a blessing, his last one was a curse. A man in his mid-thirties had moved in at the beginning of the year and at first, he’d seemed decent. He had no interest in small talk, but he wasn’t rude about it. The most Bucky got from him was a head nod and an occasional, “hello.” Which was fine. Bucky was aware that despite his roguish good looks and his undeniable charm, not everyone wanted to be his best friend.

But after a month had gone by, he noticed that the guy from 6B was no longer a loner. The door opened at all hours of the day and night and Bucky noticed an endless string of visitors. Some around his age, some significantly older, some men and some women. The loud music started soon after the visitors, followed by constant shouting and what sounded like a not insignificant amount of potential property damage. The smell of cigarette smoke creeped into the hallway constantly, and despite indulging in the habit himself on occasion, it bothered Bucky endlessly that Rosie’s pride and joy was being treated like a bar.

He’d tried to speak with his neighbor about the disturbance one time, but when he’d answered the door, it was clear that something chemical had taken 6Bs ability to even stand up straight. He’d been angry the moment he’d opened the door and noticed it was Bucky and not one of his usual visitors. Bucky had made it back into his apartment with a crumpled shirt and a clenched fist, proud of himself that his famous temper was still controllable when he really wanted it to be.

 His little slice of comfort he’d created for himself in this building was slowly becoming a burden and he spent more nights sleeping in one of the many spare bedrooms at Curt’s place than in his own apartment.

Only after Curt offered him a permanent relocation, “You know I got plenty a’ space to spare Bucky,” did he finally gather his wits and speak to Rosie.

While Bucky had been away at college studying Sports Broadcasting, Rosie had apprenticed with his father who owned several residential properties in Manitowoc, including this one. He completed some maintenance and management courses at the same technical school Curt ended up attending and eventually was given ownership of this property. Bucky had rented from him during his first month of ownership and the improvements that Rosie made hadn’t stopped since. He put his trust in his landlord and friend, shared his concerns about his neighbor and after a couple weeks of police reports and confrontations that improved Rosie’s already impeccable reputation in Bucky’s eyes, an eviction notice was slapped on 6B.

Thankfully Bucky never saw him again after that, and other than the very occasional disheveled visitor that somehow makes it passed the digital locks into the building to knock on the door to the empty apartment, Bucky has had his little slice of paradise back.

Taking in the clipboard in Rosie’s hand and only just now noticing the smell of fresh paint permeating through the door, Bucky hopes that still stays true.

Rosie heaves a sigh, “I had some contractors come in early this morning to put a fresh coat of paint in the unit. The cigarette smell really lingers and it’s made it tough to rent.”

“I’ll bet,” Bucky grimaces. “Think the paint will do the trick for ya?”

Rosie shrugs with a smile, “Doesn’t much matter actually seeing as I rented it two days ago, even with that stench.”

Bucky blinks in surprise and scoffs, “Let me guess, they wanted lower rent and a fresh paint job to sweeten the deal?”

Rosie laughs and shakes his head, “That’s honestly what I expected, and I probably would’ve gone for it at this point. But no, not at all. This guy just looked around and said it was fine. He even asked if he was allowed to paint the walls or if it was against the lease agreement.”

“That right?” Bucky was skeptical, but he had already decided to be very picky about who got to be his neighbor from now on.

“Yeah, man,” Rosie continued. “I was standing right next to him, and the smell was bothering me so it had to bother him too. But he just asked if he could paint. I’m sure he figured it would help with the smell and didn’t want to push.”

“But why wouldn’t he want to push?” Bucky questioned the odd behavior. “I wouldn’t want to pay my hard-earned money for a place that smelled like a bar, no offense, and I definitely wouldn’t spend my hard earned money to also offer to fix it.”

Rosie laughed but nodded too. “Yeah, Bucky I know. But that’s honestly one of the reasons I rented it to him so quick. I think he’s just a genuinely good dude. He’d already passed the rental background check with flying colors, and he seemed a little desperate to get into somewhere near here. I didn’t want to lose the business.”

Bucky nodded along but still had his doubts. “You say he seems like a ‘genuinely good dude’? Well, I say he sounds gullible as hell and a little naive.”

Rosie puts one hand on his hip and waves his clipboard at him with the other. “Alright Bucky, that’s enough of that.” He scolds. “I know your last experience with a new neighbor was worse than bad and I sympathize with that, especially considering I rented the unit to the guy.”

Bucky immediately moves to defend Rosie. Despite the truth of his words, Bucky doesn’t have any ill will towards the other man, only gratitude for how quickly he righted the situation.

“I’m not done yet,” Rosie cuts him off with another swing of his clipboard. “But this new guy is not like that. I’m willing to bet my reputation that this one is going to work out for both of us. I’ve only met him in person once, but I can already tell you’re going to like him.”

Bucky trusts Rosie, he really does but he’s going to go into this new situation with both eyes wide open. The last occupant of 6B seemed perfectly normal at first too, so Bucky is not just going to take Rosie’s word for it.

“Alright, I’ll keep an open mind,” Bucky relents a little, letting Rosie lower his clipboard. “But then why’d you have the apartment painted if the guy agreed to take it as is?”

Rosie rubs the back of his neck and shrugs, “I felt bad renting it to someone like him without at least trying to improve it a bit. Plus, I take pride in this place, and it’ll help me sleep at night.”

“Someone like him?”

Rosie looks a little flustered, “He’s like, really nice Bucky. Kind, you know?”

Bucky narrows his eyes, “Would you have painted it for someone like me Rosie?”

Rosie laughs and pats him on the shoulder, pulling his hand away with a grimace when it comes away wet and Bucky laughs in return. “Course I would Bucky.”

“You’re good people Rosie,” Bucky answers. “Well, when’s my future neighbor move in, huh?”

Rosie looks at his watch and does some mental math. “He’s coming by for the paperwork and the keys in an hour, but he said it’ll take him a couple of days to actually move in.”

Bucky sighs and nods, “Alright well, I’m going out with Curt and Kenny for drinks tonight so I’ll probably miss him. I’ll roll out the welcome wagon when I see him around.”

“Thanks Bucky,” Rosie says with a small smile. “I know you got used to the solitude, but you can trust me on this. You’re gonna like 6B.”

“Only time will tell Rosie,” Bucky backs away towards his own door. “Catch ya later!”

He watches as Rosie waves his clipboard at him and then makes his way down the hall towards the elevator. Bucky enters his apartment and pulls his shirt over his head, dropping it into his hamper once he reaches his bedroom. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and shoots a quick text to Curt.

Getting a new neighbor in the next couple days. Still up for drinks?

He undresses and turns the shower on and waits for the water to warm. His phone buzzes and he laughs as reads the message.

Aw, no neighbor will ever compare to your first 6B 😉 But if they turn out to be like the last one, I’m ready to kick some ass.

Noted, tough guy. Drinks?

Satisfied with the water temperature, Bucky goes to put the phone down when it buzzes in his hand.

As long as you don’t mind being a third wheel!

Bucky grins and replies immediately.

You gotta actually ask him out before I can be considered a third wheel Curtie.

I’m playing the long game Bucky, you know that.

Eager to wash off the mornings grime, Bucky sends another text.

Where and when?

He waits a moment and grins at his phone as he reads Curt’s response.

The Wharf at 5! Second shift starts at 4 and Benny hired a new server we gotta check out. Well youuuuu gotta check out. I’m telling you, Bucky… you’re gonna swoon.

Only time will tell, see you at 5!

He shoots the text back and drops the phone onto the counter, finally hoping into the hot stream of water. Two new people to meet apparently in his very near future. He’s as skeptical of Curt’s matchmaking skill as he is of having a new neighbor so he’s not feeling overly confident on either front.

Only time will time.

#buck x bucky #clegan #gale cleven #john egan #buck x bucky au #mota fanfic #mota fic #mota modern au

[hiramaris]

I'm gonna request something for haley bc i love how you write her and not so obsessed. im not sure if you are writing for request? but im gonna give my shot

a prompt where haley as wife, and the farmer was late passed midnight because of mining shit. and almost died (lmao). she got home safely, but limping with her wounds and bruise. then there's haley, saw her wife barely walking and her reaction, just comfort, fluff, worried and taking care of the farmer.

that's all, thanks, no pressure <3

Kiss it Off Me

CHAPTER 7

Chapter Summary:

"I don't like your stupid gift!" She didn't intend for it to sound harsh, but as soon as her mouth opened, she couldn't stop the words from spilling out. "I honestly thought you'd know better than to give me something like this."

Pairings: Haley x Fem!farmer

Disclaimer:  I do not own Stardew Valley or any of the related characters. Stardew Valley is created by and owned by ConcernedApe. This fanfiction is intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from this story. All rights of the original Stardew Valley story belong to ConcernedApe.

Warning: violence, blood

Notes:

thanks to anon for being the first-ever reader to request a prompt. I initially thought to make a separate fic for this one but I realized why not make it as a new chapter? There would be some adjustments to the prompt, instead of Haley being the farmer's wife, she'd be somewhere in between a friend and a woman struggling to put a name to what she's feeling with the farmer. I'm really sorry anon for not following the route you're hoping for but I do hope you'll like this one.

Summer 9

The sound of thunder clapping from above her made it difficult for sleep to come that night. Despite the late hour, the darkness outside was illuminated intermittently by flashes of lightning, casting eerie shadows across the walls of her room.

Rain drummed steadily against the glass, a constant reminder of Yoba's fury. The room felt oppressive, suffocating almost, as if the storm had seeped its way indoors, invading her sanctuary.

She had always hated rain. Well, the main reason is it's horrible weather for a dashing photographer like her. Not only does it ruin her hair that she spent all morning fixing, but it could also ruin her equipment. Oh, did she also mention it gives an awful lighting?

She also shares the same level of dislike for storms because they destroy the calmness of rain. It's aggressive, cold, and destructive.

That's why the moment the news announced there would be a storm for the next three days, she was quick to stock every little favorite snack she could think of because there was no way she was waltzing outside in that kind of weather.

Haley popped out a tired eye as she looked at the clock beside her.

1:56 AM.

Oh, joy it's almost two in the morning. How in Yoba's name could she go outside with bags under her eyes probably heavier than all of Emily's hippie gems combined?

'I mean– there's always a concealer,' she thought but quickly dismissed the idea.

She has been minimizing her makeup since... since whatever (when you told her she looked prettier even without them) PLUS with summer's sweltering heat, layering on cosmetics seemed suffocating.

With a groan, she pushed herself up from the bed, determination flashing in her tired eyes as she made her way to the kitchen to get a glass of milk, hoping that this little solution would finally give her the sleep she'd been craving for.

But as she reached for the milk, a cacophony outside shattered the stillness of the night. Haley froze, her heart pounding in her chest. It's kind of hard to tell with the harsh rain and thunder and everything.

As if to confirm that her mind wasn't playing tricks on her, a set of audible coughs echoed just behind the door. Haley's heart thumped so loud she was afraid it might come out of her chest.

That could only be an intruder.

In Haley's sleep-deprived mind, she didn't stop to even realize that Pelican Town had never experienced a robbery in the dead of night. Instead, she quickly bolted to her room, grabbing Alex's old baseball bat he had left here one time, not even having the presence of mind to wake up Emily to face this 'intruder' together.

****

Spoiler alert, it wasn't an intruder but an idiotic farmer covered in dirt and unbelievably wet from the rain.

You were holding your rucksack close to your chest for dear life with your sword held tightly by your other hand when Haley found you slumped against the door.

"What the hell are you doing outside at this hour and in this weather?" was the first words she uttered when her eyes spotted you. She was quick to help you up and bring you inside, not even minding the mud and water accumulating from where you stood.

When you didn't respond, Haley met your eyes.

Haley's heart nearly stopped at the sight beyond her. Without being hidden by the darkness, she could finally see your whole state.

There standing is the farmer herself. Your white hoodie was tattered and looked burned. Your hoodie's sleeves are ripped too up to your upper arms, and your left arm has a cut with fresh blood still gushing out of it.

You were missing the other pair of your shoes, and your hair was disheveled and covered with slime. You even had multiple scratches and scrapes all over your body. Your right cheek has some small scratches, and blood is rushing out of the wound on your forehead.

"Yoba..." Haley's voice was barely a whisper as she gently cupped your cheeks, careful not to aggravate your wounds. Her eyes flickered to the gash on your forehead, blood still seeping from the wound. "What happened, Y/n/n? We need to get you to Harvey!"

You shook your head weakly, struggling to stand upright. "No... H-harvey," you protested, your voice strained. "H-he'll kill me."

"Y/n!" Haley's arms enveloped you in a tight embrace as you nearly stumbled over her. She wanted to reprimand you, to demand answers, but the rush of blood in her ears and the pounding of her heart against her chest prevented her from doing so.

For now, she needed to make sure you were okay.

You only grunted in response as you gave in to her, allowing her to guide you to the sofa. Haley's lips trembled with worry as she gently settled you onto the cushions.

"I'm just gonna get a towel and the first aid." Her lips trembled as she said those words.

In record time, she was able to get everything she thought you'd need, afraid if she missed any more seconds you wouldn't be breathing.

When she returned to the living room, she almost went ballistic when she spotted your form unmoving from your seat.

"Y/n! Wake up, for Yoba's sake! Don't you dare die on—" Haley's words caught in her throat as you rasped out a response.

"...oh, look an angel," you managed with a small grin, your tired eyes fluttering open.

Haley couldn't help but smile softly at your attempt to lighten the mood. "Very funny," she replied, relief flooding through her as she saw you conscious, if only barely.

Wordlessly, she draped a towel over you, tucking it gently to ensure you stayed warm. It was the same blanket she used during storms like this when she felt cold herself.

With a purposeful stride, she made her way to the fireplace, adding more wood to the fire in hopes of warming you further.

"Keep your eyes open, please? I'm just gonna get some rags to clean up your wound," she requested gently.

She placed the first aid kit on the coffee table in front of you before heading to the kitchen to gather clean rags and a sponge.

Returning to the living room, she filled a bowl with tap water and carried it carefully as she made her way back to you.

With great tenderness, Haley cautiously wiped the blood from your body with the sponge, dampening it in the tap water she had prepared. She winced as the color of the water turned red.

"You lost too much blood," Haley commented, masking the shakiness of her voice. She wasn't a great fan of blood but she was not naive with treating minor injuries either. She silently thanked Yoba for letting Emily force her to learn a thing or two about first aid.

You only grunted in response to her observation.

"What happened, Y/n?" She couldn't hide the worry in her voice even if she dared try. "I should call Harvey and get you to the clinic."

You groaned as she accidentally applied too much pressure to your wound. "No... it's okay. It's n-nothing, I'm fine."

"These serious injuries don't shout nothing, Y/n. What the hell happened?"

"'I went to the mine..." you explained, and Haley waited expectantly for you to continue.

"It's storming."

"I know..." You couldn't look at her in the eye. "It's just that there's not much going on in the farm so I thought I should continue my expeditions in the mine. I thought it would be safe but..."

"But it wasn't." Haley couldn't helped but deadpan.

You visibly winced, unsure if it was because of your wounds, Haley's biting remark, or just both. "I heard from Marlon I could find rare items once I reached the hundredth floor, which I did," you explained, tapping your rucksack beside you. "But I should have known better that those items are rare for a reason. Not because they're hard to find, but because they're hard to acquire. Once I got hold of this baby," you gestured to your bag, "the whole cave was swarmed by slimes and shadow people."

"What?" Haley's voice sputtered with disbelief, her brows furrowing in concern. "Shadow people? I thought they were just myths!"

You tried to nod in confirmation, but Haley kept a firm hand on your cheeks, preventing the movement. "Uhuh, they're very real," you affirmed, your voice tinged with exhaustion. "And I can say they aren't really fond of us humans and, uh, dwarves I think. They're more scared of me than intimidating. I tried not to, y'know, hurt them."

"That's a stupid idea."

"I know," you admitted, your gaze dropping to the floor. "But given our history with them, I didn't want to give them any more reason to hate us. Plus, I was the one invading their homes."

Haley let out a heavy sigh, her shoulders slumping with weariness. "Still, you should have fought back. What if they had killed you in there? How would we have known you were down there and rotting? You're the only one crazy enough to go down there anyway."

You didn't speak after that, and Haley mistook that as compliance. She was too busy fuming at your lack of self-preservation to notice the frown creasing on your features.

After managing to cleanse the visible injuries of your body, she began to grab some clean rags to apply some pressure on your forehead and your forearm to keep your bleeding to an absolute minimum.

She cursed softly under her breath, trying to think of what to do next.

"…Y/n? Y/n, wake up, stop sleeping," Haley's voice was quiet, her tone laced with urgency as she gently tapped your cheek.

Your eyes pulled themselves open and looked tiredly at her. "Hn?"

"I need you to sit up straight and pull your hoodie off. What do you have underneath?" Haley's words were gentle but firm as she carefully supported your shoulder and hip.

"…just a tank top."

Slowly, you strained to sit upright, wincing with discomfort. Haley could tell from the way your grip tightened on her wrist that you were not comfortable sitting for very long.

With Haley's assistance, you managed to pull your hoodie off, careful not to aggravate any wounds. Once the clothes were removed, Haley's eyes lingered on the minor cuts just below your chest, blood still seeping from the wounds. She grabbed the sponge again, gently brushing away the blood from your cuts.

After cleansing the wounds, Haley applied alcohol and antibiotics, causing you to grunt in discomfort. No words were exchanged as she skillfully wrapped bandages around your forehead, forearm, and abdomen. She then helped you into warmer clothes she found in her wardrobe, her movements gentle and reassuring.

"How do you feel?" Haley bit her lip, anxious. Honestly speaking, she wasn't confident in her abilities to treat injuries, so she anxiously awaited your response, hoping she hadn't made things worse.

"…I'm alright now," you rasped, your voice hoarse with exhaustion. "…thank you, Hay."

Haley felt a wave of relief wash over her at your words. Your face had regained some color compared to earlier when you looked as pale as a ghost.

"Do you want anything to eat?" she questioned tentatively. "I'll whip you up some tea and soup."

You swallowed gently and nodded your head.

"I'll be back soon then. Rest. I'll wake you when your soup is done."

****

About twenty minutes later, Haley went back into the living room, a tray in her hands. She found you sprawled on the couch (thankfully not moving too much), embracing your rucksack in your arms once again. She wanted to question what was inside and why you couldn't part with it so much but decided to make sure you were okay first.

The things she does for you.

She placed the tray of food on the coffee table and sat beside you, taking in your sleeping form.

"Y/n/n? Food's ready," Haley said softly, tapping your thigh to rouse you from your slumber.

Startled and kind of a forced of habit, you tried to sit up straight. Thankfully, Haley was fast enough to stop you.

"Don't get up. | don't want to wrap your wounds again," Haley admonished, her tone firm.

She grabbed a pillow and propped it behind your back to elevate your head slightly. As she picked up the bowl of chicken soup, she could feel your eyes on her.

"I can feed myself, Haley. Thank you," you finally spoke. Haley's eyes met yours briefly before she averted her gaze, a flicker of emotion passing over her features.

"Clearly, you aren't capable of feeding yourself. Stop being a baby and let me do this."

Your eyes settled on her for probably a full minute before you sighed in resignation. Despite the hardened gaze she probably wore on her face, Haley gently placed a spoonful of soup in your mouth.

"I know you can, Y/n," Haley spoke after a few moments. "But you lost too much blood already, I don't want you to bleed again."

"I'm sorry for causing you all this trouble," you uttered softly.

Haley paused and finally looked at you, like, really looked at you properly this time. Since you had arrived covered in mud and blood, she had been operating on autopilot, with only one mission: ensuring you were okay. It's the only thing running through her mind, leaving no room for anything else. Mainly, she hadn't thought about the impact of her words.

"Don't be ridiculous. It's no trouble. I'm just..." Haley paused, thinking about what words to use without giving away that she cared too much. "I'm just glad that you're okay."

Once you had finished eating, Haley placed the empty bowl down and reached for a damp cloth. Brushing away a stray lock of your hair, she gently wiped away a few drops of blood and dirt, her touch surprisingly gentle. She was so focused on her task that she didn't notice you watching her quietly, your expression softening as she attended to the blemish on your face.

"Haley..." you called softly, breaking the silence. Haley looked down at you, her eyes startled. A small, appreciative smile graced your lips as you continued, "Thank you."

Haley couldn't help but smile in return. Sometimes it's hard to stay mad at you. "You can thank me by resting and making sure this won't happen again."

You chuckled softly as you closed your eyes, resting your head against the pillow once more. "No promises."

Seeing that you were getting sleepy, Haley quickly gathered the empty bowl and cup and placed them in the sink. When she returned, she extended a hand to help you up, much to your confusion.

"Come, let's get you to my room."

"Haley," you protested weakly. "I couldn't possibly impose more than I already have."

"Shut up. I won't let an injured woman sleep on the couch, Y/n."

Despite your protests, Haley managed to convince you to agree with her proposed setup. While Haley wasn't entirely keen on sleeping on the couch herself, it's not like she has a choice on the matter. The cushion is uncomfortable as hell, it's like sitting on a pile of bricks. That's more than enough reason to let you sleep on her bed. Plus, with the mess and worry weighing on her mind, she doubted she'd be able to sleep anyway.

She was about to leave to clean the mess in the living room when she finally sat you down on her bed, but a hand stopped her.

"…have you seen my bag, Hay?"

"Oh, that? Do you want me to get it for you?"

"No, no. Thanks but I can get it myself." You made a move to stand but Haley kept a firm grip on your shoulder.

Haley frowned. "You can't barely even stand. Do you think I'm gonna let you walk by yourself? What's in the bag anyway? I'll get it for you."

"I'm wounded, not disabled–" you tried to say but Haley only raised an eyebrow at you, daring you to finish your sentence. You sighed when you realized that you wouldn't win against her again. "It's... it's a gift."

"For whom?" Haley couldn't help but ask. Who could you possibly want to give a gift that you almost died just to get it?

Was it for Penny? Haley heard she liked gems as well. Or was it Maru? If she could remember correctly, tomorrow's her birthday and she seemed to like everything you can find in caves. This totally makes sense.

But why did her heart clench at the thought? More importantly, how did she even remember all this information when she didn't care about them at all?

Before you could respond, Haley left the room to retrieve your rucksack. She felt like she didn't need to hear the answer to her question.

When she returned, she wordlessly handed the bag to you, prepared to leave the room once more. However, your voice stopped her in her tracks.

"It's for you."

She turned, mouth agape. "What?"

"It's for you." You smiled warmly as you held out a familiar-looking crystalline gem, about the size of a palm, emitting a dazzling array of colors.

Haley's initial surprise quickly turned to dismay as she recognized the mineral. Her frown deepened, and a flicker of discomfort passed through her eyes at the sight of it. She knew what it was, and just the thought of touching it made her feel physically ill.

"What's wrong?" you asked, concerned at her sudden change in demeanor.

"I don't like your stupid gift!" She didn't intend for it to sound harsh, but as soon as her mouth opened, she couldn't stop the words from spilling out. "I honestly thought you'd know better than to give me something like this."

"I..."

"Keep it," she said with finality. "Good night, Y/n."

With a curt nod, she turned on her heel and stormed off, the sound of the door slamming shut echoing in the room as she left.

****

She shouldn't have said that. She knows she shouldn't have but she was just so worried she couldn't control anything else spouting from her foul mouth.

She hated how she caused the light in your eyes to die down. Hated the way you weren't able to say anything else. Hated the way she just couldn't probably express her worries properly.

Now you probably thought she hated your guts.

Which is far from the truth. Kind of the opposite actually but she's far too tired and confused to delve into her feelings further at the moment.

It's true she doesn't share the same passion for gems and rocks as her sister Emily, and people will generally thank someone who will give them a prismatic shard because for one, they are pretty, she's not gonna lie about that. Secondly, they're super rare and by extension, expensive.

Haley just couldn't bring herself to appreciate it in the same way.

She hated them with passion. And she hated people assuming she liked shiny things because of her personality.

While it's true she's kind of materialistic, it was a trait ingrained in her from years of her parents trying to compensate for their absence by showering her with gifts.

She didn't like being materialistic, but she's so used to it that it's hard to stop.

And she hated how you seemed to think the same way about her when you thought about giving her a prismatic shard as a gift. That all she ever was were just pretty and expensive gifts.

And she hated how you let yourself get hurt just to give her this.

She hated everything about this.

****

Haley spent the majority of the night cleaning the living room, hoping to tire herself out enough to dull the heaviness and emptiness in her heart. She didn't know it was possible to feel both at the same time, but there she was, experiencing it firsthand, and she despised every moment of it.

And she hated herself more now because she found herself padding her way towards her room. Her steps faltered when she saw you peacefully sleeping on her bed. A gentle smile touched her lips at the sight of your chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

Unable to resist, Haley approached you quietly. She carefully tucked you in, a tenderness in her actions that betrayed the turmoil in her heart. Leaning down, she pressed a soft kiss to your bandaged forehead, a gesture she had learned from her late grandmother.

"To kiss the pain away," her grandmother used to say, and Haley found solace in that belief.

With one last caress of your cheek, Haley settled onto the foot of her bed, a magazine in hand, silently hoping for the sun's rays to finally peek behind the horizon by her room's window.

****

Haley woke up surprisingly lacking any back pains. She didn't feel sleep-deprived either.

Wait—

How'd she get in her bed? You're supposed to be– Oh.

She sat up straight when she realized she was holding a letter in her hand. Straightening up the almost crumpled paper, she could recognize your handwriting immediately.

Good morning, Haley. Sorry for the disturbance last night, and thank you for taking care of me. It means a lot. I didn't want to impose more than I already have so I excused myself while you were asleep. Thank you again. — Y/n

Haley studied the letter, noting the hastily scribbled handwriting that differed from your usual neat script. She could imagine you rushing to write it just to avoid dealing with her.

It hurt more than she cared to admit. But after what she said to you, who was she to complain?

At this point, it would be a miracle if you still talked to her.

"Good morning, sis!" Emily chirped, her voice echoing through the room as Haley emerged from her room. She sat on the couch, casually knitting what appeared to be another sweatshirt.

Haley's expression was one of mild annoyance as she replied, "It's noon."

She glanced around the living room, noting the sunlight filtering in through the curtains, indicating that the day was well underway and the storm had thankfully subsided.

"Storm has passed but Caroline canceled, just to be safe," Emily responded, her fingers deftly working the knitting needles as she spoke. "And I know it's noon. Just wanted to emphasize you slept late, little lady."

Haley let out a resigned groan, her movements sluggish as she made her way toward the kitchen to avoid further conversation with her sister.

"Just so you know, I saw Y/n/n come out of your room!" Emily called out from the living room, her tone playful yet teasing.

Haley froze mid-step, her grip tightening on the handle of her mug. "Wha—" Her voice wavered slightly, betraying her surprise. "Nothing happened!"

"Of course, nothing's going to happen in that state she's in," Emily retorted.

Haley couldn't ignore the sense of urgency that suddenly gripped her at the mention of your state. You're in no condition to go home all by yourself.

"Just tell me you took her home," she pleaded, her tone softening slightly as she returned to the living room.

Thankfully, Emily's too caught up with her work to notice that brief slip-up of vulnerability Haley rarely shows.

"I volunteered actually, but Penny saw us on our way and insisted she could do the job," Emily explained, her tone matter-of-fact.

"And you agreed?!" she sputtered incredulously.

"Of course, I would!" Emily readily defended. "She volunteered!"

Haley's sigh was heavy as she sank down onto the couch next to Emily. "You should have woken me up."

She could feel Emily's eyes settling on her as if trying to decipher what's got her so distressed.

"I tried, but Y/n/n won't let me. Said you needed the sleep," Emily finally answered after a few moments of silence.

"You're unbelievable." Haley couldn't help but massage the bridge of her nose at Emily's casualness about the situation as if seeing a heavily injured farmer waltz out of Haley's room was just a normal occurrence. "I suppose she told you what happened then?"

"Uh-huh. Accident in the mines, right? And she went here instead to the clinic because Harvey would kill her once he saw her state." Emily chuckled, her tone light as if discussing the weather. "He just literally told her last time to take it easy."

Haley blinked in disbelief. "And how do you know this?"

"Everyone knows this, Haley." Emily looked at her as if wondering why she didn't know this piece of information. "It's practically a common thing to see Y/n/n passed out outside in the morning."

Haley's brows furrowed in frustration, her mind racing with thoughts. Of course, she doesn't know this. If she would have known, she would have told you to take it easy. Hell, she'll help with farming if it will make things easier for you. This thing where you pass out and overwork yourself shouldn't be normalized. Actually, if anything—

She stopped herself from this line of thinking because why the hell was she even considering helping out with your farm when she, in fact, hated dirt?

"She also told me how you stepped up and helped her," Emily continued, her voice pulling Haley back to the present moment. She felt Emily's hand pat her shoulder in a gesture of reassurance. "I saw she's well-cleaned up. I'm proud of you, sis."

Haley forced a smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. I'm not proud of what I did, Em.

*****

Summer 10

The sky was painted with hues of pink and orange as Haley sat alone on the shore, the gentle sound of waves lapping against the sand providing a soothing rhythm to her troubled thoughts. She had come here seeking solace, the ocean always offering her a sense of peace in times of distress.

The events yesterday had bothered her more than she had let on. She convinced herself you'd understand why she reacted the way she did but a part of herself thinks she should apologize.

But as stubborn as she is, she instead spent the whole day sulking, which is what she did.

She embraced her knees closer to her chest, fingers brushing the bracelet adorning her wrist. It was her great-grandma's, a delicate piece of jewelry passed down through generations adorned in gold and pearl on the middle part. Her grandmother has given it to her instead of her mom because she'd rather wear luxurious things than some hand-me-down jewelry. But Haley loved them, and it's probably the only piece of jewelry she'd ever wear aside from the shell necklace she was wearing now.

It was a ritual of sorts for her, wearing the bracelet whenever she felt sad and alone. It's as if wearing it made her feel like her grandma was with her at this very moment, comforting her.

She was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn't realize her bracelet had slipped from her wrist. It wasn't until she reached to adjust it that she felt its absence.

"Oh, no..."

With trembling hands, she combed through the sand, her movements growing more frantic with each passing moment. Her eyes scanned the water's edge, fearing the worst as she desperately sought any glimmer of gold amidst the grains of sand.

No, no... impossible. She made sure she was far enough from the water for that specific reason.

An hour passed with no sign of the precious heirloom, and Haley felt tears welling up in her eyes as desperation threatened to consume her. She practically combed the whole beach for it and still no signs of the bracelet.

She couldn't help but slump back to the sand. She's feeling everything too much.

She's such a useless piece of shit. She couldn't even kept an important heirloom. How the hell can she even keep someone like you in her life?

Everyone's right. She's way up high in the clouds that everything she touches crumbles within her fingertips.

The tears are threatening to fall from her eyes and a sob is rising on her throat.

And just before a tear fell from her eyes, a hand shot up and grabbed her by the shoulder.

She looked up and met a pair of gray eyes staring into her own. The grayish color of your eyes is stark and deep and seemed a little bluish from the illumination of the sun. It almost looked like the sky during spring or the ocean seen from a cruising ship as a cold tundra threatened to ruin the quiet solitude of the season. Your eyes telltale thousands of untold stories with every blink, stories too ambiguous, too dark for any of them to understand. Though not dark enough to feed her thoughts of the midnight sea, of storms and drowning.

Calloused fingertips thumbed mascara stains from her cheeks with such gentleness Haley doesn't think she deserves.

"I'm here," you murmured. "What happened, Haley?"

"I l-lost it," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion as she struggled to hold back tears. "My bracelet... it's gone! I know I had it on when I got here... But now it's gone, Y/n and I can't find it anywhere..."

She couldn't help the sob that escaped her as she burrows closer into you. She had probably stained your shirt with expensive make-up and salty tears but she didn't care as she dug her face deeper into your collar bone further and sucks a shaky breath.

"Shh," you soothed, sturdy arms wrapped around her tightened instinctively. "I'll go find it, don't worry."

"I'll never find another one like it..."

"I'm really sorry..." she felt you murmur against her hair. "I'm sure it's just around here somewhere."

"...maybe it'll wash up on another shore," she hiccuped between sobs. "I can't bear to think of it at the bottom of the ocean."

"We'll find it, okay?" you assured her, and Haley swore her heart stopped beating when you planted a soft kiss on her forehead. "Stay here. We're not leaving until we find your bracelet."

****

And truth be told you did find it.

After what seemed like an eternity of combing through the sand, Haley's eyes lit up as she spotted the familiar-looking bracelet in your hands.

With a smile so bright it rivaled the sun, you approached her.

"You found it!" she cheered as she run towards you, hopping from the sand and straight to your arms.

You weren't deterred by this and proceeded to secure your arms around her to prevent her from falling.

"Careful there, we don't want to drop it again, do we?" You barked out a laugh but Haley was quick to recognize the grunt of pain in them.

"Yoba, I'm sorry! I forgot you're still wounded!" Haley made a move to let you go but you weren't having any of it. If anything, you hold her tighter. Haley couldn't help but let out a laugh as well as she wrapped her arms around your neck just as firmly. "Thank you so much, Y/n. You're a lifesaver."

"You're welcome," you murmured against her chest. "Here, I'll help you wear it."

You gently set her down, much to her disappointment, and began to fasten the bracelet around her wrist, your actions filled with care and tenderness.

"Thank you, Y/n. Really," she murmured softly. "You're always there whenever I needed you and all you get as a thank you is me being... a bitch to you. I'm sorry."

You frowned. "You're not a... 'b' word. Far from it."

"'B' word,"she scoffed, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips "What are you, twelve?"

"I'm sorry for giving you that gift yesterday..." you started after a moment of silence. "Let me finish first," you interrupted gently when you saw her mouth open to speak. "I just... prismatic shards are rare to find and I wanted to give it to you because I thought it's something you'd like to photograph."

"Hey!" you protested in mock indignation. "I can cuss. I just don't want to use it around you. I don't want to get used to it."

Haley's gaze softened drastically. If you keep this kind of consistency around her then Haley's bound to fall hard on her back. And since it's with you, you'd probably made your way to ensure she'll be falling in a pile of pillows and flowers. You're thoughtful like that.

You took her hand in yours, a tender gesture that made Haley's heart skip a beat, her cheeks flushing slightly at the warmth of your touch. The soft morning light bathed the shoreline in a golden hue, casting long shadows across the sand as gentle waves lapped against the shore.

"But then I realized how it may have looked like to you, and I'm sorry I made you feel that way."

"Y/n..."

"So I like to try again." Without further explanation, you strode towards the boat beside Elliot's cabin, your steps confident and purposeful, and produced a bouquet of—wait, are those sunflowers?

"No way!" she sputtered as she tried to fight the grin threatening to spill on her face. You're not supposed to look this dashing walking towards her with a bouquet in hand. It's unfair!

"Yes way." you grinned at her as you handed her the flowers, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "I hope I'm forgiven."

"I'm supposed to be the one saying sorry, you dunce!" Haley playfully slapped your shoulders before accepting them. "They're beautiful, Y/n! These are my absolute favorite! Thank you."

"No worries. And if you're free you can take a look at them at my farm."

"You planted them?" Now that she had mentioned it, it sounded like a stupid question. Of course, you planted them yourself, where else can you get these flowers?

But as usual, being the kind and patient person that you are, you only beamed at her and nodded. "Yep! I planted a whole yard."

"For real?"

"For real," you affirmed, your smile widening at her incredulous expression.

"But why? I mean compared to other crops I'm sure sunflowers aren't that profitable."

You shrugged again, your expression softening. "Eh, I wasn't aiming for the profit. I was aiming for your smile."

****

Next

A/n: my toes are curling while I wrote this, I hope you felt the same. Anyway, the bouquet of sunflowers isn't the same bouquet that makes Haley your girlfriend. It's just a regular ol' bouquet our farmer has personally crafted because she's a simp for our queen but just too oblivious to see it. Sorry for the delay, I had just finished my clinical recently so I was busy the whole month of April. Hope y'all like this one!

P.S. comments are much appreciated!

THANK YOU FOR 2500 LIKES! YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST, SERIOUSLY.

taglist:

@joordynn

@taliiiaasteria

@iluvwomen01

#stardew valley #stardew fanfic #haley x farmer #haley x reader #stardew farmer #stardew haley #stardew emily #kiss it off me

[aflyingsheepnamedrose]

Part one "You're no fun..." Villain grumbled, slouching with their arms crossed against their broad chest as they watched the TV screen with a subtle frown. They couldn't tell whether to be relieved or distraught, now that their evil deeds were on halt, for the time being. But they were nearly robbed of their rights to coddle their Hero every Friday night, and that was worse than losing to an entire band of heroes. "If you weren't bragging to me about your 'grand scheme' every time you kidnapped me, then you probably would have gotten away with flooding the city. Sometimes I wonder if you make it easy for me on purpose. I'm not THAT short you know." Hero replied with a laugh, kneeling on the living room floor to grab a pile of blankets from their ottoman next to the couch Villain was currently pouting on. "And besides, I'm pretty sure this is a better alternative for this evening, and I know how much you loathe the idea of swimming." Villain let out an audible groan, not wanting to admit that their nefarious plan did go against their entire nature; Villain hated water.

"Whatever, I might as well just live with the fact that my entire year's worth of work has amounted to nothing. Woe is me." The criminal's attempts to guilt trip their rival were fruitless. Or so they thought. "You said six months."

"I lied."

"Sure you did..." They rolled their eyes, acting like they were annoyed when in reality, they were the happiest criminal in the world. They still had something to look forward to every week, now that they had given in to Hero's demands. It was the best decision of Villain's life. "Well, you better make this night last twice as long, if you want to walk away scot-free." Villain warned jokingly, finally finding the humor in their "situation". Hero chuckled to themselves, placing the blankets down on the couch before grabbing one and wrapping it over and around Villain's body. Villain would have pushed them away if they knew better. Hero did the same to themselves, swaddling themselves in the plush fabric of the blanket before plopping down beside their enemy.

The silence that followed was deafening, only for the Villain, who was busy getting in a comfortable position while the Hero was practically using them as a pillow. Their heart skipped a beat when Hero rested their head on their shoulder. As much as they never liked to admit it, they had fallen head over heels for their archnemesis. Hero absent-mindedly shuffled through the TV channels, finally stopping once they found their favorite network. The show that aired every Friday evening was some mediocre and obviously fake paranormal investigation, which both the Hero and the Villain agreed they enjoyed watching. They were an odd couple. After a few minutes of shuffling under the covers, the rivals could finally sit back and relax, letting the heat of the day dissipate from their mind. . . . The hero thought they could relax, but this night felt very different from the rest. On most occasions, it was a tie between both enemies and on some, Hero lost to Villain. But this time, Villain was terribly defeated. "Do you still like me?" The question hit Villain like a brick. They looked at the Hero, who was looking back at them with a troubled glint in their eyes. "...Why do you ask that?" Villain said slowly, feeling their face grow hot at the question. Villain knew Hero was very straightforward with their questions, which is one of the reasons why they were in a relationship in the first place. But one thing Villain never wanted their beloved Hero to ask them was this. Hero fiddled with their fingers, sitting up against the couch cushions as they carefully worded their reply. "Now that I think about it, having a whole six months of work thrown in the trash sounds like something to be very upset about, but at the same time, I'm a hero. It's my job to foil evil schemes and all but..." The hero paused for a brief moment to catch their breath. "I feel like a terrible friend." Villain felt their heartthrob, and not in a positive fashion. The evildoer would have died any moment, this was worse than having a whole decades of work destroyed. They let out a soft sigh, placing their arm around Hero to pull them closer. Villain's gentle gaze met theirs, not faltering for even a second. They were used to comforting Hero now. Villain took Hero by the hand, bringing the other to cup their left cheek. A single tear went down the hero's face, and they quickly wiped it away before Villain could. "I can't think of anything on this Earth that could make me hate you. It doesn't matter what it is, you'll always be my hero." This side of Villain was foreign to everyone but Hero, who was now hugging them as if their life meant it. The villain hugged them back, extending their blanket outward so the hero could join them in their little cocoon. They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, basking in the warmth of one another, as all enemies should. "I love you." Hero murmured, graciously planting a kiss on the Villain's cheek. They blushed madly, looking down at the hero in awe. "I love you too." Villain couldn't have this night any other way.

#i might kill one of them later #hero x villain #villain x hero #heroes and villains #hero and villain #heroxvillain prompt #fluff #h/c #hero x villain fluff #hero x villain h/c #Mmmm we love enemies cuddling each other #say “Thanks for the grub rose” /j #this might have a few typos T_T #I kinda rushed this sorry

[ramblingoak]

The Quiet Times

Mushy May in Lucifer's Hollow: Day 10 - Quiet Nights

Mist x Aurora

This fic is set in an alternate universe in a town called Lucifer's Hollow. For Mushy May I'll be using the prompts to post little snippets of life for the humans and ghouls that live there 💙 Thank you to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together!

~ In Lucifer's Hollow Mist owns an antique store called The Reliquary and Aurora owns Little Sunshine Tattoos ~

Warnings: none, sfw, 740 words (thank you to @ghuleh-recs for the dividers!)

This was Mist’s favorite time of the day.

It was that lovely quiet moment between dinner and when she usually went to bed.  Mornings could be chaotic, especially considering sometimes Aurora was just going to bed when Mist was getting up.  She would get so absorbed in designing something for a client or just sketching something on her own that she barely got up to eat let alone remember she needed sleep.  Although Mist could be the same sometimes, especially if she got caught up with an interesting book.

Thank Lucifer The Den was nearby.

The little coffee shop was where they had met and Mist smiled to herself thinking about that day.  She had been rushing in during her lunch break, needing a serious amount of caffeine to get her through the afternoon.  Mary Goore had brought in a box of their grandma’s books to see if Mist wanted any for her antique store.  One of the books had immediately caught her eye and the next thing she knew it was 3am and she was supposed to be up in four hours. 

So here she was trying to hurry in for something with lots of sugar and caffeine but all her plans went to shit when she had opened the door on Aurora.  The ghoulette’s iced coffee ended up all over her and the floor.  Mist had been horrified, thinking about the moment even now still made her wince.  She had been prepared to get yelled at because who wouldn’t yell in this scenario?  But instead all that happened was Aurora had started laughing and honestly, that was all it really took.

Mist had been a goner ever since.

Aurora’s cursing brought her out of her thoughts and she looked over to see her girlfriend crumpling up a design she had been working on since dinner.  She was able to catch it when it was chucked to the side, carefully smoothing it out and tucking it into her book to save.  Mist did this with any bits of sketches or whatever else Aurora felt wasn’t good enough.  She had an entire scrap book full of all the napkin doodles Aurora had given her.  Each one was special in its own way, even if the artist didn’t feel the same.

“Please tell me you’re not keeping that.”  Mist just smiled primly and looked back down at her book.  Aurora groaned and crawled over to rest her hands on Mist’s knees.  “You keep the ugliest ones.”

“None of them are ugly, how many times do I need to remind you?”  Aurora dropped her head into Mist’s lap instead of answering but Mist caught her pleased little smile.  She rescued her book and tea just in time, setting it on the side table before burying her fingers in Aurora’s hair.  “They all belong on the fridge.”

Aurora snorted, turning her head to the side so she could peer up at Mist.

“We ran out of room there months ago.”

“Then I’ll buy another fridge.  And another, as many as it takes.”  She scratched her claws into the ghoulette’s scalp, smiling when Aurora’s chest started rumbling quietly.  “So stop talking down about your work.”

“Ugh, fine.”  Aurora scooted closer, wrapping her arms around Mist’s legs and settling more comfortably against her.  “I’m done drawing for tonight, my head hurts.”

“Do you want some medicine?  Let me at least get you some water.”

“No, no, stay here.”  Mist stopped trying to get up when the arms around her legs tightened.  Aurora was looking at her once more so Mist pulled a hand out of her hair and trailed a finger across the ghoulette’s forehead.  As if the light touch alone could take the discomfort away.  “Will you read to me?”

“Whatever you want.”  She picked up her book again, gently opening it up and finding her place.  “Do you want me to start from the beginning?”

“It doesn’t matter,”  Aurora gave her legs another squeeze but otherwise stayed still.  “I just want to hear your voice.”

The quiet of the room settled over them both, only the hum of their furnace kicking on making noise.  Mist took a moment to whisper a prayer to the Olde One, ever thankful for Aurora being in her life.  For the chance to explore the world with the feisty ghoulette at her side.  

And especially for quiet nights like this, where nothing else existed but the two of them.

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you 💙

My Masterlist ~ My Archive of our Own ~ My Ko-Fi Tip Jar

More snippets from this verse are on my masterlist under "Ongoing Series"!

Other Mushy May days: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10

#mist x aurora #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost band fanfic #mist ghoulette #aurora ghoulette #mushy may 2024 #tales from lucifer's hollow #oakie's writing

[pookiebearmick]

Laughing/smiling into kisses; pulling away and looking at each other with softened smiles !

this one is so cute!!! i'm doing a little bday moment for ian <3

The last thing Ian expected to wake up to on his birthday was an empty bed. He rolled over to find that his husband was gone, which was definitely out of the ordinary because Ian always had to coax Mickey out of bed after their multiple alarms let them know it was time to get up and ready for work.

Ian checked the time, 7:52AM, earlier than their usual 8AM alarm. This made it even stranger that Mickey wasn't in bed with him. He listened closely to see if he could hear anything to signal that Mickey was moving around somewhere in their small apartment. Strangely, he felt like he could hear a pin drop.

"Mick?" he called out to what seemed to be an empty apartment.

No reply. He rolled back to his other side and reached out for his phone, pulling up his messages to shoot Mickey a quick "where tf r u" text. It was Thursday, after all. They needed to be ready to leave their apartment by 9:30 to get to the growhouse for their first pickup of the day, and Ian was really hoping to have some lazy birthday sex before hopping in the shower.

He gave himself a couple more minutes in bed, scrolling on Instagram and responding to some "Happy Birthday Ian!!" text messages from his siblings, before he decided that it was time for him to get up and start some coffee. Fiona had sent him a french press and some coffee grounds from her favorite local shop in Florida for his birthday, and Ian was enjoying his fancy new kitchen gadget.

Mickey still hadn't responded to his text, so Ian started calling him as he measured out the grounds. He listened to the line ring two or three times before hearing jingling of keys and the unlocking of their apartment door.

"Where'd you go off to before 8 in the morning?" Ian asked, glancing over at the door as it opened before ending his phone call and grabbing the kettle to fill up with water.

"Well," Mickey started, shuffling out of his boots and moving into the kitchen, "I was hoping to surprise you with some breakfast from that café you're always talking about, but it seems the cat's outta the bag on that one."

Ian chuckled softly, setting the kettle on the burner and cranking it to high heat. "I told you you didn't have to do anything for my birthday, Mick. Getting together with the family for dinner and cake feels like a celebration enough for me."

He turned to face his husband, who was standing next to their small table with a soft smile and eyebrows raised. Mickey had just set down two styrofoam boxes of take out on the table, but still had a small bouquet of blue flowers in his hand.

"Wanted to," he said quickly to Ian, stepping forward and closing the gap between them.

Ian wrapped his arms around Mickey's waist and leaned down to kiss him, pulling Mickey in closer as he slotted their lips together.

He pulled back and looked at the flowers in Mickey's hand. "Sap," he teased with a small giggle, before leaning in and kissing Mickey again.

"Yeah, yeah," Mickey grumbled. "Your birthday's so close to Mother's Day that all the shops had flowers on sale. Couldn't fuckin' get out of there without someone putting flowers in my face." Despite the grumbling, Mickey was smiling softly up at Ian.

Ian absolutely loved that his husband was sweet and loving with him like this, getting up early to get him flowers and a special breakfast for his birthday. "Sure, Mick," he said sweetly, smiling back at Mickey. He leaned down and kissed Mickey once more through a big smile.

"Happy Birthday, lover," Mickey spoke softly, smiling sweetly back at Ian and meeting his gaze.

#happy birthday ian! #thank youuuuu #<3 #gallavich #gallavich fic #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #deckard's words #librarenaissance #writing prompt #fluffy stuff

[chameleon66]

For a moment it’s quiet

Word count: 1,594

Ship: HuskerDust (Husk x Angel Dust)

Summary: Angel wants cuddles from his boyfriend but it then leads to an interesting discovery.

THIS IS A TICKLE FANFICTION, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Author’s note: I just finished watching Hazbin hotel and Huskerdust is by far my favorite ship in the show so I felt I had to write something for them, I may check out Helluva Boss soon too so I may also write something for that as well depending on if I find anything interesting to write about in it. I think that’s all so happy reading!

“You know what time it is Husky?” Angel blurted out while swinging the door to his boyfriend’s bedroom open. “It is cuddle…Angel…o’clock.”

To put it simply, Angel was not expecting to see what he did when he opened the previously closed off bedroom door.

Husk was curled up on his bed in a nest of spare blankets, half empty bottles of alcohol and pillows, with one pillow tucked neatly underneath him while his arms were wrapped around it and his tail laid limp around his ankles. He wasn’t wearing his top hat or usual daytime clothes but a soft pair of two piece button up pajamas with white and black dice printed on that contrasted the dark red background of the pajamas.

Husk also didn’t seem too amused with Angel barging into his room without knocking but since it was Angel and he wouldn’t expect anything different out of him. Husk simply just sighed and replied with.

“Fine, I wish you luck in finding a spot to cuddle me, also stay away from my booze, also … Please don’t tell the others about this.”

Angel, still in a state of flustered gay shock from seeing the adorable display of his boyfriend, all sprawled out across his bed like a kitty cat. Slowly made his way over Husk’s bed and crawled onto it and over the lumps of blankets that were just barely visible in the dimness of Husk’s bedroom.

Angel never understood how Husk could live with never turning on the light switch in his room but according to Husk his vision was perfectly fine in low light environments.

Once Angel made his way over to Husk he wrapped all four of his arms around Husk, the upper pair around Husk’s neck and the lower pair circling around his waist.

And much to Angel’s surprise Husk let go of the pillow he was laying on and wrapped his arms around Angel’s shoulders in return with his resting a few inches in front of Angels as they laid parallel to each other on the bed.

Angel could feel his cheeks become pink at the close up view of his boyfriends face and he could see a tint of pink over his cheeks and the bridge of his nose but the implied emotions that the blush conveyed didn’t reach Husk’s half open yet completely awake eyes.

“You are so handsome Husky.” Angel stated aloud to Husk, which made the blush in his furry white face much more visible.

Angel smiled at his boyfriend’s reaction to being given a compliment and his smile only grew as he saw the pink tint reach up to Husk’s pointy tipped ears.

Having way too much love and affection to give to his boyfriend at that moment, Angel reached his upper right hand up to his boyfriend’s ear and began using the tips of his nails to scratch around the base of them.

The effect was instant, Husk’s muscles in Husk’s ear and the rest of his body went slack and Husk’s eyes went half lidded as a soft purr became audible in each of his exhales. Husk's head began to lean and nuzzle into Angel's hand silently pleading for the gentle scratches to not stop.

Angel had to hold back the squeal that tried to make its way up his throat and out past his lips, he didn’t want to ruin this moment of peaceful love between the two of them. So he quieted himself and kept scratching Husk’s head and ears, making sure to soak in the sound of his purring and the sight of Husk’s relaxed and spaced out facial expression.

This went on for a few minutes until Angel experimentally tried to rub the top part of Husk’s ear where the heart print and the red tip of his ear were but when he began rubbing the soft cartilage between his thumb and index finger Husk’s reaction suddenly changed.

Husk’s face morphed into a smile and made something that Angel could only describe as between a meow, squeal, and laugh in response to the touch that Husk would deny making for the rest of his life.

“OMG! Husky! That is the cutest noise ever!” Angel put the pieces together fast upon Husk’s response but he needed to see that reaction one more time to believe his theory.

“Hey! Knock it off Legs!” Husk commanded the spider sinner. Though the look in the spider’s two toned eyes told Husk exactly what he was thinking.

“Don’t even thiNK ahahahahahah! Nohohoho.” Husk’s words lost themselves as Angel’s fingers went back up to the colored parts of his ears and began to scratch and rub them.

Angel’s theory was confirmed. Husk’s ears were adorably ticklish.

Husk kept giggling while trying to get his hands free but Angel used his lower pair of arms to keep Husk’s arms pinned to his sides and keep Husk from moving away as well.

“Aww! Does that tickle darling?” Angel asked in his baby talk voice.

Husk’s face got redder at being teased but he somehow found it in him to nod his head to answer Angel’s question.

“Well all the better for me Babycakes. I just love to hear those giggles of yours.” Angel was having a lot of fun with this, after all it wasn’t everyday you got to see the grumpy yet observant bartender smiling and giggling while his ears were being tickled.

Husk would rather die a second death than admit it out loud but he was actually enjoying himself, but only a little. After all tickling is for children but Angel toying around with his ears was soothing in a way but was exhilarating in a different way.

Taking note of Husk’s ears flicking in his hand’s grasp, Angel moved his hands off his ears and brought his face closer to them. Then he took a deep breath and blew a puff of air onto Husk’s right ear.

Husk’s giggles went up an octave and his ear twitched aggressively at the contact of the cool air. Angel smirked wishing he had brought his phone to capture Husk being absolutely adorable but just seeing it in person was also great.

“You know, I’ve had clients with ‘sensitive’ ears before, but I’ve never had one with ticklish ears before. That must make you really special Husky.” Angel hummed his Husk’s ears, the vibrations of Angel’s voice causing a buzzing tickly sensation to spread throughout the canal of Husk’s ear.

As Angel kept blowing air onto Husk’s ears he couldn’t help but notice Husk actually seemed to be enjoying himself. Husk would definitely deny it if Angel asked him but he could see it in the way his tail swished back and forth with the tip thumping against Angel’s leg and his smile that was doing a poor job of hiding how genuine it was.

Though Angel decided to let Husk remain oblivious to Angel’s observation, If Husk wanted to tell him on his own terms, then Angel would accept that. At least for now.

After another minute Angel decided Husk had his fill and planted one kiss and the inner side of each of his ears, emitting one last shriek of a giggle out of Husk.

Angel Got back down face to face with Husk and watched as his boyfriend hazily giggled that last bits out of his system and met Angel’s eyes. Giving him the “You are lucky I love you otherwise I’d kill you for that” stare.

Of course Angel didn’t pay the look any mind. He did however want the soft and cuddly mood back so he reached up his hand and with two fingers scratched underneath Husk’s chin, right on the spot he knew to make any cat relax.

Once the sensation of Angel’s nails dragging back and forth under his chin clicked in his brain, Husk was reduced to a purring puddle.

His body instantly lost all of its tension from the tickling that happened earlier and out of pure feline instinct he pulled Angel closer to him and began to knead his paws over Angel’s stomach. Husk was never fond of cat-like instinct but being with Angel made him feel more comfortable with his sinner form because he knew Angel loved and respected him. That made Husk completely in love with Angel.

Angel let out a chuckle from the feeling of Husk pressing on his stomach but he couldn’t help but adore how cute Husk was being with him, he really should do this more often.

“That’s right Husky, just relax and let me take care of you. You take such good care of me, it’s only fair I do the same for you.” That part was an understatement to Angel. Husk always helps Angel with anything, making his favorite drinks for him, listening to him rant about his day and providing comfort on those tough nights after dealing with Val. Husk really does so much for him and everyone else in the Hotel. He really deserved more appreciation for everything he did for people.

That night was quiet in the hotel, at least to Angel and Husk. The noise of Nifty’s vacuum, the hum of Charlie and Lucifer talking as they walked down the hall, the subtle radiostatic that lingered in every corner of Husk’s mind, the phantom sensation ropes around Angel’s limbs had faded into the background as the two of them cuddled and for just a moment, everything seemed to be perfect and nothing was wrong.

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