#Fishin' Around

[empidonax]

HAPPY WET BEAST WEDNESDAY

[bloodfreak-boyking]

a lot of ppl think D/s stands for Dominant/submissive but it actually comes from Dean/sam which is the same dynamic but with incest #themoreyouknow

[strawberista]

{Sorry about the absence, folks. I've had a pretty busy weekend and haven't had a chance to get online. It's the summer and Sibling hasn't gone on the road yet, so that's likely to be the case for a while longer yet.}

{But! If I get some time to pull out my computer I'll try to do something. For the meantime just be patient with me a little longer~ I might pop in and answer asks at some point, but activity will continue to be low until I'm no longer needed.}

{Oh, I should say, though, that you can always catch me on Discord if you need me. I can usually answer that one, and while rp might be shorter there I can do it! So y'all just lemme know if you need me or my disc. •v•}

[ficryfingcrs]

// just full on sobbed watching a man cry in a movie, because I am weak to men having emotions. Anyhow, if anyone is feeling like starting something up feel free to send something my way!!!

[crowsent]

so when i was young there was this game where the storyline is that your little sister is sick. a villain with magic is responsible and you, being the good big sibling that you are, set out to save her. but theres no actual time limit so i spent most of the game fishing and running away from hostile npcs. little salt was in the single digits and he was not about to fight pixel enemies.

it was basically 3d stardew valley with rpg mechanics and minigames available on the main menu for shit like racing and obstacle courses. you help the various npcs in your town, buy accessories like hats and scarves and shit. bribe someone to ferry you to different areas. help some black shadow blob thing that child salt didnt look at for too long bc he was convinced it would leap out of the tv and devour his soul.

well anyway i never finished it. i got stuck in a cave chapter where the only way to progress is to get past a series of enemies and child salt was a mix of terrified and sad. terrified bc again, single digits. having a child go through a scary cave with snakes and gorillas and other such nonsense should be qualified as cruel and unusual punishment. sad bc even though the models and sfx had no right to sound that intimidating, child salt still had to go and fight snakes and gorillas and other such nonsense and child salt LIKES snakes and gorillas. they were enemies, but child salt didnt want to fight them. or the wolves. or the bats

so why does this rpg-esque open-world-esque chill game with a decent narrative force you to fight animals when you could be fightin orcs or goblins or other such nonsense?

bc you played as a regular house cat

[tumlehfhckkkfk]

Extra $7 off- Fishin' Around Fish & Chippery- Order now!!

[naked-covered-in-bees]

“Is it bad that I used to watch over you while you slept?” Cas asks. He nestles up closer to Dean in bed, wrapping his arm around him.

“Mmm? Nah, I mean I know I always said it was creepy,” Dean mumbles. “Probably, it was. But I kinda got a kick out of having my own guardian angel. Even back in the beginning.”

“I don’t mean when you could see me.” Cas frowns, giving Dean his best mournful gaze, asking apology. “I mean, when you didn’t know I was there.”

“Oh…?”

“Uh…not always,” Cas says. “But when things were going very badly, I’d stand centurion and wrap my wings around you for protection. Especially if you were sleeping in the car. You didn’t know I was there.”

“You wrapped your wings around me?” Dean whispers. He traces a finger up and down Cas’s arm, hardly aware he’s doing it. “While I was sleepin’ in Baby?”

“I don’t know if it made any difference.” Cas kisses his shoulder. “I was always so worried about you, I didn’t know what to do with myself.”

“Do wings…?” Dean chuckled shyly, resting his hand on Cas’s arm, his thumb grazing back and forth. “Can they protect…like...your mind?”

“They can offer a degree of psychic protection,” Cas said. “Not commonly. But…with the bond we’ve shared…”

“I just wonder… I didn’t get all the nightmares about hell I thought I would,” Dean says. “Sometimes, I did. And then a lot of times, my sleep was so peaceful. Like when you came into my dream and I was fishin’ on the lake.”

“That was me,” Cas murmurs. “I was always afraid to tell you. It seemed invasive. But I didn’t think you’d accept the help.”

“Probably not.” Dean takes his hand, and kisses his palm. “Thanks.”

[brittle-doughie]

This Year and You! (Various Fics)

Just a look back at certain stories throughout the months! Can you imagine it’s been another with you and Cookies!

———————————————————————

January - Final Days

“What are you looking at, Y/N Cookie?”

“Hm, oh hey, Pure Vanilla. It’s just..a photo. I took….of me and my friends…”

“Oh? Can I perhaps take a look?”

“N-No, I’m..not ready to share this with others yet. It’s..a sensitive story for me…”

“O-oh, it’s okay! Please, take all the time you need. I’ll be there whenever you’re ready…”

“Yeah…”

You looked at the photo. You and your…former close friends. Smiling, enjoying yourselves.

“Thank you…”

You missed those times together. You had missed your friends. Them. Not what they had become…

———————————————————————

February - Storm Warning

“Where’s Y/N Cookie? Did they skip out on fishing with us today?”

“Yeah, I’d reckon they won’t be fishin’ with us for a while! Something about the ocean havin’ scaring them.”

“They’re afraid of the ocean? I’ve seen them fish in dangerous waters before. You telling me a little storm is scaring them?”

“I tried telling ‘em that. It felt..off when they looked at me in the eyes and whispered somethin’ to me.”

“What was it?”

“That this was no ordinary storm…”

Lightning crashes and thunder booms as the two fishermen cookies jump. They’d normally tried to sweep it under the rug as the storm just picking up.

If not for the sound of crying far off in the distant sea…

———————————————————————

March - Ingrained

You couldn’t move…

Seeing through the vines that shielded you from the outside world, not sure if passing by cookies observing and marveling at you…or the plant that Herb Cookie had become feeding off your life powder…

Vines were pierced into your dough, so you couldn’t even pull them off if you wanted to. You barely had the strength….

Herb Cookie…he said…you wouldn’t die. A part of you actually wished you could…

Or at least wish he was here right now, anything to break the monotony of vines settling and moving around you…

His empty, smiling husk right next to you didn’t exactly look like the type to have conversation with…

———————————————————————

April - The Dessert Report

You had carefully placed the ancient desserts into your office fridge before closing it, locking it by typing in a numbered keypad that was hooked to the fridge on the wall.

“The shift is over, manager. Where is our just dues..?”

You quickly turned around to see Redcap Mushroom and Demoncake Kitsune Cookie hidden in the shadows of your moonlit office.

“Right, right. I know, just let me head to the break room and get them-“

“We saw you place desserts in that fridge just now. We’ll take that…”

“What? I’m sorry, you two. These particular desserts aren’t for anyone to consume.”

Demoncake Kitsune floated fast towards you, leaning down her tall figure to stare directly at you with her glowing red eyes and black slit pupils.

“….”

“Come on, Demoncake. You’re well aware of what I told you both about desserts made from the Ancient Heroes.”

“Then we’ll need double of today’s worth in…pay. We don’t like being held out on, manager~”

“Plenty of Cookies came in today with gifts, that works for me.”

You escorted the two out of your office towards the front of the store.

You take a second to glance back at the locked fridge…

Once you’ve tasted something so s..w..e..e..t, nothing else would ever satisfy…

———————————————————————

May - The Lone Giant

Earthbread officials have declared the Lone Giant a passive hazard that’s meant to stay out of the way of. Attempts to approach the Giant has been met with hostile resistance from a group wearing white masks.

Towns in the path of the Giant are strongly advised to remain indoors until it has passed. Do not attempt to provide aid to Cookies that are outside during these curfews, they are beyond saving.

Do not try to apprehend or go to the Giant as it is considered extremely dangerous, whether the Giant itself or by the hostile group of Cookies spotted close by it.

Many Cookies continue to go missing in the Giant’s path to this day.

———————————————————————

June - Yin and Yang

“I’m sorry, but Y/N Cookie is not in at the moment. Please feel free to leave any message or gift with me.”

“…I see. But do please tell them that I wish to..spend the afternoon with them? Is that right?”

“Right, I’ll go ahead and pencil that in for you, your Majesty-“

“KEEP THE DOOR OPEN! KEEP THE DOOR OPEN!”

Dumpling Cookie and Dark Cacao Cookie turned to see you frantically running towards the castle door, your face completely covered in pink and purple kiss marks! Your culprits in high pursuit behind you, Affogato and Peach Blossom Cookie.

“Oh, why did you have to pull away so soon~ I wasn’t done with our little get-together~”

“Is everything alright, Y/N Cookie~? I had just prepare a special peach bao I prepared just for you.”

“I needed room to breathe!”

You dart in through the gap in the castle door and Dumpling Cookie quickly closes it, turning back to Dark Cacao Cookie.

“Should I tell them of your message?”

———————————————————————

July - Volition’s End

Dark Cacao Cookie climbed up the steps, having to stop to catch his breath when he noticed the statue of Mystic Flour Cookie…along with another Cookie beside her, one he didn’t recognize.

“That Cookie…who..?”

“That would be Captain Y/N Cookie, a guard of Mystic Flour Cookie, my Lord.”

Cloud Haetae was oddly more..quiet when bringing up this Cookie, something Dark Cacao Cookie noticed.

“Their sole duty was to protect Mystic Flour Cookie at any cost, even the cost of their own live itself. And that’s exactly what they did, defending her from Cookies that burned with hatred.”

“I..had never seen Mystic Flour Cookie act the way she did ever since that day. Kind of like you, my Lord. She cherished Y/N Cookie more than anything, holding onto their crumbled body as she returned to her cocoon. Because all she needed was them..”

“Have you ever experienced the feeling of emptiness for so long, my Lord?”

———————————————————————

August - Feathered Envy

“Tell me, truly! Who’s the most beautiful of us two? It’s very clear that it’s me, right?”

“Well…”

“Please, allow my precious to answer for themselves. Their answer must come from the bottom of their heart..”

“What? Are you afraid that my darling little Cookie may prefer the more beautiful one between us, Sugar Swan Cookie?”

“Let them answer for themself.”

“It’s clear who they’ll pick anyway. You might as well fly off already. The season is waiting for you-“

“The season can wait. Let them answer truthfully.”

———————————————————————

September - Tale of the Forced Hand

“Will you be alright, Y/N Cookie?”

You gave Pure Vanilla Cookie a reassuring nod, but you kept clutching your head.

“Yeah…yeah, I’ll be okay. I-I don’t know what happened back there. I just saw you all in danger and something in me just..wanted to do something to help.”

“That power you displayed, it was something Shadow Milk Cookie didn’t expect, yet relished in.”

“That smile of his, he knew something..but what was it…”

“Regardless, it’s possible he’s alerted the other Beasts about you. If what he had done was anything, he may not be willing to let you go a second time.”

“Something’s going on here, Pure Vanilla Cookie. It’s like I…remembered Shadow Milk Cookie, but..I didn’t know him at the same time either…”

“Y/N Cookie, could it be that..”

“No. There’s no way. I’ve lived an ordinary life since the beginning! I remember traveling and staying at the Cookie Kingdom when it used to be rubble.”

“Shadow Milk Cookie’s word cannot help trusted…”

“..yet his words always carry a speck of truth. No, I..couldn’t be this Compassion, right?”

———————————————————————

October - Five Nights with Dragons

“Is everything alright with the Great Dragon recently?

“I don’t know, they’ve been acting different since the sacrifice a while ago…”

“Did they..actually get the sacrifice..?”

“They did, I was there to check out the aftermath, the whole place was a mess. Yet, not a crumb was in sight on the floor.”

“Then what happened to the sacrifice?”

“No one knows. The cameras only caught the Great Dragons dragging them out of the home.”

“Then why…why is the Great Dragon angrier then they’ve ever been before?”

———————————————————————

November - Cookie to the Rescue

“So, you really endangered yourself to rescue Golden Osmanthus Cookie is what I’m hearing.”

“Pretty much. I wasn’t going to just leave her, Dumpling Cookie. I didn’t care if I crumbled off an arm to do so!”

“That’s quite the strong feeling towards a Cookie you’ve only met for a little while..”

“So what? Are you going to be like Crowned about this?”

“I was only asking, ‘kay? Remember that this kingdom needs you, Y/N Cookie. You can’t always throw yourself into danger and come out of it all right.”

“I know…”

“But seeing you go out of your way to help others, it’s one of the many things I like you about, Y/N.”

“O-Oh! Thank you, Dumpling Cookie.”

“So..what’s your relationship with Golden Osmanthus?”

“So nosy!”

———————————————————————

December - Destructive Influence

You hurried into a quiet part of the arena locker rooms, quickly pulling the small bit of incense you had stashed away. Taking a deep breath of its fragrance, you felt his influence slip away bit by bit as your mind calms down.

“And just what are you doing?”

“Keeping you from going out of control. What was that back there?! I-I thought you were just going to rough them up a little, not completely tear those three apart!”

“Hahaha! Why would I hold back against pathetic worms who crumble at the first sign of strength such as mine! I helped you and your bunch of friends, you OWE me.”

“I owe you nothing. You could’ve crumbled them! They may be..not the best sort of Cookies, but-“

“But WHAT?! Will you allow these weak, so weak Cookies to push you around?! Or will you allow me to show you the type of power you can have? Where no Cookie in your way will be able to stop you!”

“I…”

“Or will you end up as dust on like any other Cookie before you…?”

You looked at your right hand, it was trembling as it clenched into a fist. You felt a burning sensation coursing through your very dough, as if he was manifesting his power through it.

“Your enemy will not show mercy. Are you not going to give them the same or are you going to them every ounce of power that COURSES THROUGH YOUR DOUGH?!”

“ENOUGH!”’

You punched the wall in front of you, making the room tremble as you make a large dent in the wall. The burning faded as did Burning Spice’s influence..

Thank Swan for Golden Osmanthus Cookie’s incense. You only hope it can remain effective for as long as you needed it…

———————————————————————

It’s been a great year with you all! Here’s to another!

[chvoswxtch]

a little more time

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: you're starting to question just how much patience you have left for frank.

warnings: swearing, frank getting ganged up on by our latest dynamic duo, more angst than an early 2000s emo playlist

word count: 3k

a/n: & here is the second half of this week's double drop. enjoy the calm while it lasts, bc the storm is right around the corner. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

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Frank raised his right fist to knock three times against an apartment door labeled 6F. The person who the apartment belonged to was still a mystery to you. Neither you or Frank had spoken a single word to each other the entire short drive over. Instead, you’d sat stiffly in the passenger seat, arms crossed tightly over your chest, glaring out the window.

A minute later, the sound of a lock twisting broke the tense silence, and the front door was opened. A tall man stood in the doorway, his dark brown eyes wandering over Frank from head to toe and back up again. He was somewhat obstructed from your view since Frank was standing right in front of you, but you saw the way his full lips pursed in lighthearted disapproval before he lightly smacked them.

“Aw, shit.”

“Good to see you too, Curt.”

“Wish I could say the same. You know, most friends do normal shit. Go fishin’ down in Florida, maybe golf or somethin’, but you, you’re always draggin’ me into some bullshit. So what kinda trouble you bringin’ me now, Frank?”

“Told ya I needed you to look after somethin’ while I was gone for a bit.”

The man wore a light gray long sleeved henley, and the top of three buttons was undone. The waffle knit fabric stretched tightly over his biceps when he crossed his arms over his chest, lifting one of his dark brows in question with a look of suspicion on his face.

“Yeah, you didn’t say what though.”

Frank finally stepped aside, and the man fully came into view before you. When his dark brown eyes landed on your figure, an expression of surprise softened his skepticism. His onyx brows lifted in a show of disbelief as he glanced between you and Frank, giving him a pointed look.

“She’s with you?”

“Yeah. Curt, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Curtis.”

Looking up at Curtis, you did your best to give him a polite smile along with a faint nod of your head.

“It’s nice to meet you, Curtis. Frank’s told me nothing about you.”

“Well that makes two of us.”

Indents of puzzlement creased along his forehead and without another word, Curtis reached his right hand out to wave his palm back and forth in front of your face, which took you by surprise and made your brows knit in curiosity while you blinked a few times. Frank looked at Curtis inquisitively. 

“The hell you doin’?”

“Just checkin’ to see if she was blind.”

“Why?”

Turning his head to look at Frank again, Curtis looked him up and down once more with an expression of dubiety.

“Couldn’t think of another logical explanation of what the hell she was doin’ wit’cho ugly ass.”

Blowing a puff of air past his lips, Frank shook his head and turned to glance around to his left. Meanwhile, you had to cover your mouth to stifle the laugh that Curtis conjured with his quick response. Shaking his head, Curtis reached out to take your bag from you, stepping aside and gesturing for you to come inside, all the while side-eying Frank.

“Could’ve at least carried her bag for her, damn.”

Frank looked genuinely offended by the implied accusation that he hadn’t even attempted to be a gentleman, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop from smiling at the way he scrunched up his face in defense.

“She wouldn’t let me.”

“Mhm.”

Curtis’ apartment was modest and simple, not overly decked out in furniture and decor, but definitely more homely than Frank’s. It felt awkward standing in the middle of a stranger’s living room that you had just met, knowing that you were supposed to be staying here for a few days. That thought had something from Frank and Curtis’ exchange suddenly sticking out in your mind.

Frank had told Curtis he needed him to keep an eye on something, not someone. 

Turning around to face them, your narrowed gaze landed on Frank and creases of irritation swiftly knit between your brows.

“You didn’t tell him that I was coming, did you?”

Both men’s heads snapped in your direction when you spoke. Curtis glanced between the two of you with a comical look on his features as he picked up on the fact that Frank seemed to be in trouble with you. It was evident how hard he was trying to suppress a smirk. Frank on the other hand turned to face you fully, and he returned your expression of irritation with his own annoyed, broody scowl. 

“Didn’t wanna ask over the phone-”

“And you didn’t think to ask in person before you packed me up and dropped me off?”

Curtis had his arms folded over his chest, and he was fighting to hide his amusement behind his right fist. His broad shoulders were subtly bouncing, and the sound of his snickering caused Frank to snap his head in his direction with a deep frown. Clearing his throat, Curtis turned to look at you with an easy going smile and gave a loose and dismissive wave of his right hand.

“Look it uh, it ain’t a big deal, alright?” 

“It is when he’s the only one here who seems to know what the fuck is going on.”

The tension between you and Frank was thick, almost visibly lingering in the air, and Curtis quickly picked up on it. He’d placed your bag on the floor by his feet, but in an effort to diffuse the situation, Curtis reached down to pick it up in his left hand and loosely gestured with his right towards a hall around the corner from you.

“Here, why don’t we get you set up, alright? I uh…needa talk to Frank right quick.”

Curtis regarded you with a sympathetic glint in his eye, and it had guilt filling your bloodstream like lead. Your presence here was an imposition, whether he would say that out loud or not, which you figured by his kind nature he wouldn’t. It wasn’t fair of you to stand in the middle of his living room and argue with Frank, disrupting the peace of his home and causing him to feel uncomfortable. Silently nodding your head in agreement, you gave Frank one last forlorn glance before you turned to follow Curtis. 

In the midst of your disappointment, both in Frank and yourself, you noticed that Curtis seemed to walk with a slight limp. It wasn’t overly apparent, and you’d only observed it because your eyes were on the ground in front of you following the heels of his shoes, but it stoked your curiosity. Frank hadn’t told you anything about him, you hadn’t even known he existed until today, but he was clearly someone important if Frank was leaving you in his trusted care. Your mind began to wonder where that integrity stemmed from. When he placed your bag down on the edge of his bed, you quickly shook your head and spoke up. 

“I’m not kicking you out of your own room.”

Curtis turned his head to look at you and studied you silently for a moment. His deep brown eyes flickered between the door of his bedroom and your own gaze. Taking a step in your direction, he reached out with his right hand and gave your shoulder a comforting light squeeze. 

“We’ll talk about that later. Why don’t you just sit down for a minute, take a deep breath. Unclench your jaw and relax your shoulders.”

You hadn’t even been consciously aware of the fact that you were doing all of those things until Curtis pointed them out. Sucking in a deep breath, you let it out in a slow exhale through your lips, trying to release the frustration and stress in your body along with it. When you sat down on the edge of his bed, your shoulders slumped in exhaustion, and you folded your hands in front of you with your forearms resting on your thighs, staring blankly ahead at the wall.

“So, this kind of thing is normal with him?”

Slipping his hands into the pocket of his jeans, Curtis looked over at you while leaning back against the wall and granted a nod of his head.

“I’ve known Frank a long time. Kinda gotten used to him bein’ a pain in my ass.”

“And you put up with it?”

There seemed to be an unspoken understanding between the two of you at that moment. The way that Curtis looked at you told you that he knew what you were really asking him with your veiled question. 

Should I continue to put up with it?

Letting out a deep exhale of his own, Curtis pursed his full lips and a contemplative look covered his features. After a moment, he returned your interrogative stare with an expression of empathy and lightly shrugged his broad shoulders.

“I’ve never known Frank to do somethin’ without a purpose. Whether it’s right or wrong, I can’t say. But, the intentions come from a good place. Most of the time.”

The way he spoke that last part caught your attention, and you looked up at him in intrigue. He had trailed off a bit, his dark brown eyes wandering towards the empty space next to your side. You wished you could read the thoughts currently passing behind his eyes. Curiosity creased along your forehead as you tilted your head to the side in question. 

“Most of the time?”

Curtis’ eyes focused back in your direction and he held your gaze silently for a few seconds. You could see on his face that he knew he had said maybe just a little bit too much. He turned his head to glance towards the open bedroom door once more before returning your look of query. His lips faintly tugged into a reassuring smile when he nodded his head in your direction.

“Like I said, there’s always a purpose.”

While Frank and Curtis were conversating in the living room, you took a moment to look around the quaint space of Curtis’ bedroom. Eventually your eyes fell on your bag that sat on the mattress to your right, and all of a sudden it seemed to dawn on you that Frank had packed it for you. Unable to deny your curiosity, your fingers reached out to tug back the zipper, peering inside to see what clothing and necessities he’d chosen.

On one side of the bag, a pile of clothes were folded neatly, and on the other was your toiletry case. Thumbing through the pile of clothes, you felt a tightness in your chest seeing that Frank had chosen outfits that you would’ve picked for yourself. They were ones you wore regularly, and he’d even packed your favorite pajamas. Knowing that you liked to be overly prepared and have options in case you changed your mind, he’d made sure you had enough choices for a week, and he even managed to fit two other pairs of shoes in the bottom.

Frank had grabbed all of the essentials to pack in your toiletry case, everything that he knew you used regularly, and even a few things he must have just thought you might need. He hadn’t just randomly grabbed a bunch of things to shove in a bag and go. Frank had thoughtfully chosen every single item in this bag with you in mind. While you sat there with your bag open, staring at the contents inside, an unexpected wave of emotion built up along your waterline, and you hadn’t even noticed until you felt a trail of wetness cascading down your cheek. 

A light knock on the bedroom door made you quickly wipe away the evidence of your emotional turmoil with the sleeve of your shirt, and when you turned your head, you saw Frank standing there in the doorway. He looked considerably calmer than he had twenty minutes ago, and seeing the remnants of sorrow shining in your eyes, his rough features softened into raw remorse. Glancing at your open bag sitting beside you, Frank looked down for a moment and cleared his throat.

“I uh…grabbed what I thought you would.”

Hesitantly lifting his head to meet your gaze, you saw that his warm brown eyes were full of unspoken apologies. Giving a faint nod of your head, you dropped your gaze down to your lap and spoke quietly.

“Yeah, thank you.”

Both of you had so much you wanted to say, but neither of you knew where to start, or what the right words were. The silence echoed loudly and the walls felt like they were tauntingly closing in around you. A sinking stone of intuition in the pit of your stomach had you prophesying the very real possibility that this would end with you left in bereavement, and that the romantic daydreams you had hand crafted in the back of your mind had been false fortune telling. 

Frank took a few cautious steps towards you, and you could see his boots come into view in your peripheral as you kept your eyes downcast towards the floor.

“Sweetheart.”

God, the way he uttered that one word made your chest ache. There were a million different emotions packed into those two simple syllables, and you could hear the tender longing in his deep voice softly calling to you. Frank knelt down in front of you, his large hand reaching out to cup your face. He slipped his fingers into your hair right beside your ear, gently grasping the back of your neck and he tucked his thumb under your chin to lift your head slowly. 

“Hey-”

Frank dipped his head to try and catch your eye. Swallowing thickly, you slowly lifted your line of sight to look at him, and the expression on his face broke your heart. His warm brown eyes were desperately pleading with you, darting between your lips and crestfallen gaze.

“-c’mon I don’t…I don’t wanna leave it like this.”

The warmth of his breath could be felt against your lips, and his eyes were frantically searching every inch of face for something…anything that could temporarily relieve this anguish until he returned with a permanent fix.

“Look if I could…if there was another way…”

Frank let out a deep sigh that trembled past his lips, and it was clear he was struggling to find the right words.

“Just…please. I’m gonna make this right, okay? I swear to you. I just…I need you to give me a little more time, alright? Just a little more. Can you give me that?”

It was hard to see Frank like this, the somber sheen to his eyes and the misery weighing heavily on his shoulders. He was asking for another strand of patience, but you didn’t know how much you had left, and it scared you to even think about what would happen when you ran out. It was unclear in your mind whether the love you had for Frank that was embedded deeply in the chambers of your heart could be enough to salvage the pieces he was leaving you with.

“Okay.”

Frank could hear the lack of conviction in your defeated tone, and it killed him. Deep down he knew he was asking too much of you without giving you any concrete reassurance in return, but he couldn’t see another path. All he could do was hope that your faith in him wouldn’t run out like grains of sand slipping through the narrow bridge of an hourglass, and that the consolation of your forgiveness could still be earned. 

His soft lips parted, and there was an intense emotion in his eyes when he stared deeply into yours. It looked like he wanted to say something so badly, but he cut himself off before he could. Leaning in, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead and let it linger for a moment before pulling away and retracting his hand from your face.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can. You’ll be safe with Curt, alright?”

A pang of disappointment quickly spread through you. For a second you thought Frank might be the first one to speak those three words. If there was ever a time you needed to hear them, it was now. But then again, you didn’t know if you were ready to say them back.

Running your hand through the roots of your hair and pushing it out of your face, you sucked in your bottom lip and grazed it with your top teeth before letting it go and nodding.

“Yeah.”

Frank eyed you wearily for a moment before hesitantly rising to his full height. He didn’t want to leave things between the two of you so unfinished like this, but he didn’t have a choice. He didn’t know if he’d made things better or worse in attempting to leave on a smoother note. When he reached the doorframe, he paused and turned to look at you again, and it bothered him that you wouldn’t look at him.

“I’ll see ya soon, sweetheart.”

There was no verbal reply from you, just another nod of acknowledgement. Frank lingered there for a moment in the doorway, silently begging you with his eyes to look at him, but your gaze seemed to be permanently fixed on the floor. The image of you sitting there looking so dejected and disappointed burned into his memory, and he knew it would haunt him, even long after this was all over. He wouldn’t forget the moment he’d let you down so badly.

The only goodbye you got was the resonation of Frank’s heavy boots fading, getting fainter and fainter the further away from you he got. A few seconds later, the front door opened with a soft creak, and a murmur was exchanged before the sound of heavy wood sliding back into a worn frame was completed with the soft click of a lock.

The golden hour dripped through the thin plastic blinds, coating the entire room in a sundrenched glow, but the warmth couldn’t penetrate the endless and echoing loneliness that dug deep into your bones knowing that Frank was gone, again.

tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawksfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress

[callooopie]

CALLOOOPIE‼️❗️‼️❗️‼️❗️‼️❗️‼️❗️

DROP A MODERN!CREGAN HEADCANON LIST. AND MY LIFE, IS YOURS. 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

Modern!Cregan Stark headcannons (pt. 1)

Forgive my northern attitude, oh I was raised on little light — Northern Attitude // Noah Kahan

okay… we did not get much Cregan.. so these modern vibes might be a little off. I looked long and hard (🤨) at a photo of him and these were the vibes I conjured up.

This man.. is so serious. Whenever you look at Cregan he looks like he’s going to pop a blood vessel with how tense he is. He’ll tell you not to worry, this is his natural state (“natural state?!?!”) you don’t think you’ve ever seen him relaxed… although there are times he lets loose, it’s reserved and calm. If he does relax it’s still oddly tense or as if he’s on edge. He’s mastered the art of being both chill but perceptive of his surroundings to a headache inducing degree. “Hm? Yeah I’m fine. Don’t worry about me, honest. One of us needs to be alert here.”

Immediately dipped after college. He got his degree in environmental engineering, he’s out of there. You, Jace, and Davos once planned a summer trip to Cregan’s cabin way up north. Now, way up north? Think like the Yukon or the bush of Alaska—that’s where Cregan would make his home. It’s secluded, no one bothers him, and he can live off the land in relative peace. You three get lost, of course. It’s like you have to take a seaplane, and then hike for a bit to the nearest town, and then you’ll have to wait for him to pick you all up. “You guys kept running around town. It took me forever to find you. Texts? I don’t get those traveling from the cabin… oh well—you’re all here now. The air will do you idiots some good.”

Dog dad. Dog dad. Dog dad. Cregan’s got big dogs, he’s got little dogs. A livestock dog to care for his chickens, some other big dogs for hunting, and a lap dog for emotional support purposes. It’s a hearty mix of Labrador, Pyrenees, mountain dog, maybe even a shepherd of sorts. But the little dog? I feel like it’d either be a dachshund or a corgi. A corgi is a reliable herd dog on top of being just a little guy. But a dachshund would be something he would hold as he walked around the perimeter of his land. Or even better he would have both. But this is his herd, his squad. “Hey!—settle down everyone. Sit down.. down now! Sorry about them, they’re just excited to see you. They’re usually pretty lax, except around you it seems.”

Terrible driver. But not because he’s bad at it, but because he’s literally in the wilderness, there are no traffic laws to obey. He’s driving down a hill full speed no braking. You’re in the passenger seat holding on for dear life as the car literally shakes and jolts you around. But Cregan? He’ll be holding a simple conversation with you, voice not even shaking from the sudden movements of the jeep or truck as he navigates the country road. I cannot figure out if he has more truck vibes or more Jeep vibes. I feel like either would work—as long as they got the job done. And either way, both cars would be muddied and somewhat damaged—filled with survival gear, winter gear, more things tied down on top with bungie cords and hooks. “What do you need? Oh, yeah that should be in the back.. somewhere. Probably in one of the bags—lemme go check for you. Hang tight, be right back.”

This man fishes. Not like “leaving my bitch wife to go fishin’ with my boys” more like “I’m catching the radioactive catfish of Chernobyl and no one’s stopping me” type fishing. He gets into it, he goes crazy. Cregan’s out on a boat at sea looking for Cthulhu. Y’all know the show River Monsters? That’s Cregan’s type of fishing. Sure he does more ‘relaxed’ fishing once in a while, he enjoys the mix of adventure but also the quiet and the patience of the fish. He will talk about how beautiful the fish is, like Steve Irwin levels of talking to fish (and animals in general). Cregan’s a catch and release king, but if he does choose to use the fish he will use all of it from the head to the bones. Everything’s getting used and processed into something. “Let’s see what you caught.. oh nice, that’s a chinook salmon. A beauty too, look at the size of that thing. You caught that beast yourself without my help? It’ll taste better on an open fire, c’mon I’ll teach you how to gut it… don’t frown at me.”

Master chef I would think. It’s not Michelin star cooking, but cooking with the freshest ingredients possible? Cregan makes a mean salad from the veggies in his garden (a pretty big garden too, he built those wooden garden beds himself) and when he hunts he uses all the meat and bones from the animal as said before with the fish. He’s not overly hunting either, he gets enough for you and him to last a while. “Good harvest today, real good—everything was ripe and ready. What do you think? It all looks good? ..that’s.. that’s good. I’m glad.. save room for dessert too then. Have you ever had acorn cake?”

You know what? He’s a park ranger. Or a state ranger. He’s got a job where he can take care of the land and teach people about the environment and how to respect it. Cregan’s all about teaching little kids what plants are poisonous and then on the next call he’s busting folks for throwing litter into a river. He is the type that if he spots you maybe hiking or doing something while he’s on duty he will pretend to bust you over for something heinous or embarrassing. Bonus if there’s people around you, now you’re getting arrested for leaving a dildo attached to a tree. But usually? It’s silly reasons laced with compliments that make you blush or smile. “..Whatcha doing out here? Hiking? Suuure. Y’know we heard some reports about a.. a very um—beautiful person wandering looking lost.. just saying, I know my way around..”

Such a good listener. Cregan is for the people who just need an ear to listen to them. If something’s bothering you, upsetting you, or you’re just not feeling like yourself; he’ll lead you out to the back porch, gesturing for you to sit down on the step beside him. It’ll be quiet, except for the sounds of nature surrounding the cabin and the woods. You can see mountain ranges in the background, the midnight sun casting a hazy glow over the land. And the next thing you know is you’re pouring your heart out to him. Cregan would remain silent, unless you ask him for advice or support. He’s the type to not want to impose on you if you don’t wish to hear unsolicited opinions or comments on a matter—so you’ll need to tell him you want to hear his advice.

Busted ass cabin. It’s so good. There’s a nearby lake, there’s mountains in the distance. The woods are thick and beautiful. The people yearn for such a place. It’s such a relaxed vibe too, take off your shoes in the house though. There is a lot of cleaning that goes on however on account of the dogs around the home. But the cabin is lived in and homey. It’s cool and refreshing in the summers with the windows open, and it’s warm and cozy in the winters with the fireplace roaring. It’s not too big, but it’s not too cramped either. “Not too warm? Too cold maybe? …well if you’re cold there’s a good way to fix that—“

Cregan loves teaching you how to live off the land. It’s basically a part of what he does for his job. But with just you? It feels more special, more intimate. You’re eager to learn, and he’s more than happy to show you how to start a fire in an emergency, how to skin an animal and use all its parts for different things. What to do if you’re in a bind in the woods and what you should do first. It’s good advice honestly. Pure survival skills. His hands would be over yours, guiding them through the motions of something. His chin resting atop your head or on your shoulder as he explains each step or how something can be utilized to its fullest potential.

Don’t take his silence or his lack of reactions as something negative. Cregan’s just the type to silently revel in your presence first and foremost, no talking required. Most of your fishing or hunting trips are filled with silence, save for the sound of music from an old portable radio and the occasional sound of a beer can opening. Sometimes you read, sometimes you fish alongside him. But know that he does enjoy your company heavily, and if you do say something don’t worry he’ll respond. Sometimes he does worry maybe he’s a little too aloof or reserved when it comes to you. Reassure him that words aren’t always needed, and sometimes it’s good to just be next to one another without adding anything to it.

With you he can get a little silly. Cregan would lean against your side of the truck, a stupid smile on his face as you talk to him. If you’re hiking and there’s a muddy spot, he will pick you up and carry you over it. He’s the type to serve you food first before him, and if he’s having a snack he’s the type to share it without needing you to ask him. It’s like the phrase to be loved is to be seen. Fresh flowers for you every day, he wakes up early to make you coffee in bed. If you’re the squeamish type about hunting/fishing, he won’t go into the details of your dinner. And if you’re with him, he’ll take care of the food far off from you so you don’t need to see it.

[munsonfamilyband]

Slick Sunday post for @lexirosewrites !! I decided to just post it like this since this is probably going to be long. I do promise it has christmas in it but there’s a build up to that. Also very minor TW for child abuse. It’s less than a sentence but still. And also, this is canon up till s4, I don’t really know how different it is, the important thing is that Chrissy lived and Eddie didn’t get eaten as much as he does in canon.

—————

It starts in 1987. It’s late November, Steve has unofficially taken over his house since he hasn’t spoken to his parents in so long he doesn’t even remember. Eddie and Robin are over helping him decorate their tree. They’re all wearing ugly sweaters and pajamas. Steve and Eddie had just started officially courting, while Robin and Chrissy were still dancing around each other. She was in the middle of lamenting her latest failed attempt to ask her out when the front door opens and the Harringtons enter. A fight breaks out pretty quickly and it culminates in a few smashed ornaments, Steve getting slapped, Eddie being literally sat on by Robin to keep him calm, and Steve being told his things needed to be gone by the next day. He’s told that his behavior is not that of a Harrington.

And then they’re gone.

Eddie forces Robin off of him so he can hold Steve, and she goes to call Hopper. He and Steve had been close before Starcourt and since he came back last year they’re reconnected. (Steve calls him dad behind his back, he’s too scared to say it to Hop’s face yet.)

Hop shows up a few minutes later, only to be followed by one very angry Claudia Henderson. She explains that El had called Dustin on the walkie about the phone call she overheard and Claudia left right away.

They both start helping him pack once they know he’s okay and they all go to Hop’s cabin for dinner. While they’re eating Steve casually mentions that he wants to change his name. What he thought would be a casual comment with little fanfare resulted in Claudia baring her teeth at Hop as they argued over who got to bring Steve into their family officially. It would be scarier if Steve wasn’t ready to cry from how loved it makes him feel. He does eventually have to burst their bubble and tell them he wants to be a Buckley. This does get Hop and Claudia to calm down but it also gets Steve tackled off his chair by Robin in a hug.

Fast forward, it’s now the mid 90s. Chrissy and Robin live in the brownstone next to Eddie and Steve in Chicago. Steve and Eddie got married two years ago and earlier that fall they had learned Steve was pregnant. They had so far only told Robin and Chrissy, but that was because Steve was at home while Eddie was at work and he begged Robin to come with him to buy tests. Both Eddie and Steve knew it was time to tell everyone else, since he had just finished the first trimester and with christmas coming up they decided to go with the most cliche announcement possible.

The four of them go back to Hawkins for the holidays. Robin and Chrissy are staying at the Buckley’s and Eddie and Steve are staying at Hop’s cabin.

The first person they tell is Wayne. They have dinner with him for christmas eve and then over dessert exchange presents. Eddie gets a new set of steel toed boots and Steve gets a new coat. Then they hand Wayne his gift and Eddie grabs their camcorder to record his reaction. Inside is a new baseball hat placed upside down with something balled up inside it. Wayne takes the cloth out and flips the hat around, freezing as he reads it, then quickly dropping it and picking up what is now clearly a onesie. In bold letters the onesie says ‘Grandpa’s Fishin’ Buddy’. The hat says ‘Grandpa is my name, Fishing is my game’. Wayne, still gripping the onesie in his hands looks up at them with wet eyes.

“Is this… I’m gonna be a grandpa?”

Eddie can’t stop smiling behind the camera and he turns it slightly to catch Steve as he smiles at Wayne, giving little jazz hands as he says, “surprise.”

Eddie just barely pans back to Wayne to catch him standing up to pull Steve into a hug.

“I’m so happy for you two. Ed, you better put that thing down and get in here.”

———

The next people they tell are the Henderson’s. While Dustin will also be at Hop’s that night, Steve had wanted to be able to see his mom for christmas so for years they had been doing brunch at the Henderson’s before the three guys go to Hop’s and Claudia goes to get some extra hours working at the hospital.

They show up right on time with their gifts and enjoy breakfast before it’s present time. Dustin gets the new Dungeons and Dragons book that had just come out and a new set of dice that looked like the night sky. Steve gets a new cookbook and a scarf. Eddie gets a scarf as well as a new toolbox for work. Then Steve hands over the gift bag to Claudia, but before she opens it he turns to Dustin while Eddie gets the camcorder again.

“Dustin, I need you to promise me, right now, that what you see right now will not be told to anyone today. Got it?”

Dustin rolls his eyes as he responds, “Dude, it’s just a gift-“

“Dustin. Promise me,” Steve interjects.

After they stare at each other for another 30 seconds Dustin gives a dramatic sigh and promises. With that done Steve gives Claudia the okay to open her gift. She takes out the tissue paper and pulls a folded up sweatshirt and a folded canvas bag out. The bag is unfolded first and Claudia gasps, quickly unfolding the sweater and then dropping them both to rush over to hug Steve.

“Oh, I’m so happy for you! My baby!” Claudia is crying as she and Steve hold each other tight, Steve laughing with pure joy. Eddie catches Dustin standing up out of the corner of his eye and refocuses the camera on him, following him as he goes over and picks up the items his mom dropped. The bag says ‘Grandma’s Magic Bag’ and the sweatshirt says ‘World’s Best Grandma’. Dustin stares at them and then he’s shouting.

“You guys are having a pup?!”

Eddie just grins at him over the camera as he asks, “You ready to be Uncle Dustin?” Eddie then barely keeps the camera from breaking as Dustin rushes him in a hug.

———-

Their final present is that evening at Hop’s. Steve is drinking hot cider and curled into Eddie’s side on the couch, Robin right next to him with a hand on his ankle, Chrissy on her other side laughing as Max shares a story about college. Steve looks around the room and sees Dustin already staring at him, practically vibrating in his seat. It’s clear that he’s doing his best to not spill the beans so Steve huffs a laugh and claps to get everyone’s attention.

“Alright, present time?”

The next minute or so is a rush of movement as everyone finds a spot and grabs their gifts, Steve holding tight to his gift for Hop. Eddie had El help him hide the camera earlier so she can turn it on without giving anything away.

Presents are passed around and opened. Max gave Steve a new poster for his classroom, and Robin got him the fancy desk organizer set he had been looking at for months. Mike got Eddie new patches for his work coveralls and Will gave them a beautiful painted version of their wedding photo. (Steve does tear up over it but tries to cover up as best he can, stupid pup hormones).

Then Steve stands and hands Hop his bag, giving El a wink as he walks past her and he sees her squint her eyes for a breath before giving him a wink back. Steve settles back in to Eddie’s side and gives Hop the go ahead. He pulls out what is clearly a mug wrapped in tissue paper with a hat stuffed into it. Hop takes the hat out first and looks at it, his face unreadable, before he sets it down with the words hidden. He quickly takes off the tissue paper and reads the mug. His face is still blank but everyone can see his eyes filling with tears as he makes eye contact with Steve.

Eddie gives Steve a little nudge and that’s all it takes for him to get up and go hug his dad, being wrapped up in his arms as Hop cries. After a beat where it’s still silent Hop speaks, looking over at Eddie. “Years ago, I thought I would never get to be a grandpa.” Steve just hugs him tighter and the room around them erupts as everyone starts screaming. Eddie gets dog piled by the boys, excluding Dustin who has collapsed on the floor from the relief of not having to hide that anymore. Steve feels two people wrap around him from behind and glancing at their arms he sees that it’s El and Max, both hugging him. When everyone has calmed more Steve goes back to sit with Eddie, who can now place his hand on Steve’s stomach. Hop sits down and finally shows everyone his gifts. The mug has a sheriff’s badge and it says ‘Chief Gramps’ and the hat says ‘Professional Grandpop’. Hop puts it on his head that night and refuses to take it off.

———————

Et viola. Also, this is Wayne’s hat because I love it so much:

[yuri-is-online]

Without Saying (Floyd and Ruggie x Yuu)

"Oh can I help you? You seem to be lost." You attempt to cheerfully ask the vaguely familiar looking person in front of you. As if he is deliberately trying to rub salt in your wounds, Crowley ignored your request to leave campus for NRC parents day and is instead making you and Grim run errands. The person in front of you, blissfully ignorant to your inner turmoil perks up at your attention.

"Forgive me for asking, but are you the magicless prefect?" You and Grim exchange a confused glance. "You've got to be right?" They're practically glowing with how happy they are to see you. " Oh I'm sorry, I've just heard so much about you!" Wait, what?

notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, feral ariel (Floyd) vs light angst again (Ruggie). If you liked this please check out the previous parts on my masterlist.

Floyd

Under normal circumstances, a quiet Floyd was a suspicious Floyd but today- well today it was just odd. He doesn't look bored per se, just idle standing next to a very tall woman with similarly colored hair who is slowly, carefully, with extreme focus examining every inch of what you think is a novelty piggy bank shaped like the school's wishing well.

"Are you done yet Mamma?" Floyd sounds like he is being careful not to yawn.

"Hush now Floydie," she doesn't even blink, that's how tight her focus is, "Mamma is concentrating." Mrs. Leech's lips are tightly pursed while Floyd mutters something about going to get some candy and slinks off while you question if getting involved in this conversation is part of your job description or even smart. Unfortunately for you by the time you look back up from your clipboard Mrs. Leech has moved directly in front of your face in complete silence. "Human-" you go to scream but she silences you with a look you can't tell is from magic or practice raising the twins "Human can you help me with something?" She doesn't even wait for you to agree before holding up the piggy bank. "What exactly is the purpose of this object?"

"That?" You are surprised your voice doesn't give out entirely as she vigorously nods. "The piggy bank?"

"I see, I see." She nods sagely, immediately whipping around to where she evidently thought her son still was, shrugging undeterred as she decides to simply yell. "FLOYD! IT'S CALLED A PIGGY BANK."

"That's nice Mamma." Calls Floyd, oddly coming off as polite and rational from somewhere deep within the Mystery Shop. " But like what does it do?"

"EXCELLENT QUESTION! Say human what does it do?" You are deeply tempted to say that this woman cannot be serious but you don't really want to find out. You draw yourself up to your full height and nod.

"You put coins in it." Mrs. Leech blinks, a bit taken aback.

"Wait really?" Bravely, with a reasonable fear of being bitten, you reach over and gently lift up the top of the wishing well to show her the coin slot.

"I'm pretty sure this one plays a song when you put a coin in too." You explain.

"But it's so tiny?" She marvels, repeatedly opening and shutting the top of the bank. "How're you supposed to keep your money safe if it's so fragile? But then again I do keep most of mine with my husband..."

"Uhm it's supposed to be a fun gift for little kids." It occurs to you that she might find that offensive since it did look like she was buying it for herself. "To teach them about saving money, at least where I'm from anyway."

"Oh how cute. That settles it, I am definitely getting this." As if sensing that it is check out time Floyd shuffles over and immediately perks up.

"Little Shrimpy! Were you the one helping my mom?" He seems really happy, causing you to breathe a light sigh of relief. Mrs. Leech looks confused, zeroing in on you with the same concentration from earlier.

"Yeah. Trying to anyway." You nervously say; Mrs. Leech's attention turns to her son.

"Aww, how cute. You fishin' for a favor shrimpy?" Normally you would play along with his teasing, but your eyes dart awkwardly to Mrs. Leech whose attention is back on you, then the piggy bank, then you then her son, then you agai-

"Not really, I'm just trying to do my job." You awkwardly laugh and Floyd pouts.

"Spring or Summer?" Mrs. Leech asks cheerfully. To your surprise she has somehow managed to snatch up a second piggy bank within the .2 seconds since you took her attention off her.

"I'm sorry?"

"Oh just wondering that's all." She has a very serene smile on her face. Almost too serene. Like you just somehow signed away your soul because you didn't read some fine print. "I'm more partial to Spring myself." You try to look to Floyd for some context but for some reason, he's refusing to make eye contact. Weird.

Ruggie

"Thank you dear." The elderly beastwoman breathes a sigh of relief as you help her settle onto a bench next to the Coliseum. "Goodness, Ruggie warned me this place was big but I didn't realize just how serious he was." You nod, unscrewing the cap on one of the water bottles you brought with you for the old lady. She takes it thankfully and you breathe a gentle sigh of relief, not that Granny Bucchi had been anything more than a bit winded when you found her, but it was still worrying to see an old woman bent over like that. "I really should have just waited for him."

"Didn't he promise to meet you at the mirror chamber?" You ask, trying not to sound too judgmental. You find it hard to believe someone who spoke as fondly of his grandmother at Ruggie wouldn't want to escort her around, Granny Bucchi looks at you sheepishly sort of confirming that.

"He doesn't actually know that I'm here just yet, I wanted to surprise him." She tries to pass you back the water back but you shake your head. The two of you lapse into a comfortable silence, the sort you only ever get while relaxing with a cup of tea, or in this case a nice old lady who is genuinely enjoying the campus scenery. It's so nice Grim curls himself up into your lap for a little nap. Granny Bucchi scratches just the right place behind his ears to convince the "not a cat" to let out a very cat like purr.

"Did you send him a message to let him know your here?" You whisper, trying not to wake your baby. "If not I can send him one." She lets out a small laugh, similar in sound to her grandson's but still very much her somehow.

"Oh I am sure he'd be half way here already if he knew I had you to myself. Who knows what sort of ideas I could be putting in that head of yours." She winks and takes out her phone, squinting at the keys trying to piece together a message. "You should still send him one though, you'll probably be faster than me."

"Do you mind if I take a picture?" You ask sheepishly. "You know so Ruggie knows you're ok." Lies you just want a picture of you with Granny Bucchi. Sure, to Twisted Wonderland she is just some lady, but she is easily celebrity tier to you with how much glowing praise Ruggie heaps on her.

"Oh please do!" To your surprise she seems genuinely excited and strikes a little pose. What a natural, Vil has nothing on this woman. Not that you are going to say that out loud because you don't have a death wish. You happily text Ruggie as Granny Bucchi looks on fondly. "Do you like taking pictures?" Her voice is much softer than it has been in the admittedly little conversation you have had. "Ruggie sends me a lot of the ones you've given him from your ghost camera, I keep trying to ask him if you're planning on being a photographer in the future but he always dodges the question." She's clearly curious and you can't blame her, you just aren't sure how to answer.

"The future is a bit complicated for me." Is what you settle on, really hoping it doesn't loose you points.

"Oh you don't need to feel bad about that." Her eyes are filled with warmth and affection that you haven't felt in a long time, it's enough to make you want to cry. "Technically the future is complicated for everyone, some of us just muscle through it better than others. Case in point." Granny hauls her self up and nudges you to turn around. Ruggie is staring at both of you with a strange look in his eyes, but when he makes eye contact with you he shakes himself out of whatever mood that was and jogs up to meet you both.

It would be nice, you think, if you could do this again.

[ficryfingcrs]

Thought everyone deserved to see Roy doin his little dancey dance in the game, so here it is.

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Buttons

The request from @toomanytookas: I have such fond memories of my grandmother teaching me how to sew on her old Singer. Obviously a WILDLY different context for a million different reasons, but I love the idea of of Pin showing Joel how to sew or just explaining the general mechanics of using the machine. Maybe some physical guidance/touching a la the pottery scene in Ghost?

If you'd prefer to play with other characters, it would be sweet to see her teach Ellie now that she's working at the shop and I imagine she'd be curious about it!

Seams sleepover micro drabble request | 900 words | warnings: rated M for dirty thoughts and slightly dirty talk, outrageous flirting, topless Joel Miller | can be read independently of the series but is part of the Seams universe

‘Nice tits, Miller!’

Joel chokes on his corn chowder as Tommy’s voice rings loud and obnoxious in the half-empty cafeteria, a mischievous glint in his eyes when he makes himself comfortable opposite him, tray hitting the table with a clatter.

‘Seriously though, put them away before Maria sees you. This is a family place, y’know.’

Joel rolls his eyes. ‘Shut up, jackass.’

Tommy studies the familiar green plaid shirt on his brother that is sitting open to the sternum. ‘Buttons fell off, huh?’

‘Aren’t you a regular Sherlock Holmes.’

‘Pin gettin’ a bit rough with ya?’

Joel splutters, raising his fork in what he hopes is a menacing reproach. ‘Hey!’

‘Just jokin’, big bro. And no judgement if she is.’

He scoffs. ‘This is gettin’ real weird, Tommy -’

‘Why don’t you ask her to sew ’em back for you?’

‘She ain’t my seamstress.’

‘She’s a seamstress. And your girlfriend.’

Joel snorts. ‘You ask Maria to do all your chores for you?’

Tommy shrugs and replies around a mouthful of mashed potato. ‘Ask Pin to teach you then. What's that they say about fishermen and fishin’?’

He has a point, Joel has to concede. That’s how he ends up at your studio that afternoon, leaning against the doorframe as he watches you on the sewing machine. He likes the steady, mechanical staccato of the needle, the whirring wheel and the metallic squeak of the pedal as your hands and feet all move in almost nonchalant choreography.

He knows that under that ease lies years of experience, and there’s an understatedness about your movements that makes him stop and stare every time you're at the antique sewing machine. 

He waits patiently for a lull, not wanting to disrupt your rhythm. When you pause to inspect the stitching you’ve been working on, Joel knocks on the doorframe. 

His lips twitch when you startle, eyes wide as your head whips around at him, and it brings him right back to the day you meet, just a few feet from where he stands now.

But then you break into a wide smile. ‘What are you doing sneaking up on me, Joel Miller?’

He closes the distance with three steps, bending down to drop a kiss on your lips. ‘Just wanted to say hello - and to ask for a favour.’

You stare up at him, admiring the way a stray lock curls over his eyes. ‘What is it?’

Joel tugs on the front of his shirt. ‘Was wonderin’ if you can teach me how to sew my buttons back on.’

You eye his neckline, which is suspiciously low. ‘I thought you were just trying something new,’ you quip.

Arching an eyebrow, he asks, ‘Is it workin’ for you, sweetheart?’

Hooking your finger into the open V of the shirt, you grin. ‘I’m not complaining, but it doesn’t hurt to fix it. Take it off.’

Joel huffs, joking, ‘Buy me dinner first, at least?’

You watch his fingers push the little buttons out of the holes, baring broad chest and freckles with every downward inch. You hum when he gets to the bottom of the shirt and it hangs open, nothing but bare skin under it. ‘No undervest?’

‘Feel like showin’ off today,’ he winks and disrobes with a smooth roll of his shoulders.

You can’t help it, your breath catches - at the strong shoulders, the soft belly, the way he has one hand on his hip - and by the self-satisfied curl of his lips, you know he knows.

Clearing your throat, you stand and take his shirt from his grasp, the warmth of the fabric comforting in your hands. ‘Come sit over here.’

‘We’re not using the machine?’

‘Not for sewing buttons,’ you reply, opening a little box to find matching ones for his shirt.

‘Okay, step one,’ you seat yourself next to him and hand him the supplies. ‘Thread the needle.’

The thread looks more like a blade of the most delicate hair in between his thumb and index finger, and the needle comically small. But his hands are remarkably steady, and he surprises you by nimbly pushing the thread through the eye on his second try.

‘Pull the thread through and keep going,’ you instruct, snipping it off with scissors when you’re satisfied with the length. ‘Now, we need to knot the end. Loop the thread around your finger a couple of times, pinch it with your thumb and pull the end through.’

He does so with aplomb, and you remark, more to yourself than anything. ‘Your fingers are really dexterous for their size.’

Joel wriggles his eyebrows suggestively, the corners of his eyes crinkling. ‘You should know that first hand, hmm?’

A comment like that would’ve had you ducking your head a few months ago. But now, you narrow your eyes at him in playful admonishment. ‘So full of yourself, Joel Miller.’

Dragging your chair towards him, he leans in and murmurs against your ear. ‘Ain’t you the one who was full of me last night -’

Heat rushes to your cheek as he noses the sensitive skin behind your ear. ‘Joel, I thought you wanted to fix your shirt -’

Pushing the needle into a pin cushion, he shrugs and pulls you into his lap with a smirk, his skin hot under your touch.

‘Luckily, I don’t really need a shirt for what I want to do right now, sweetheart.’

More notes: Thank you for this adorable prompt @toomanytookas! I hope you don't mind that I tweaked it a little bit. I love that you have such beautiful memories with your grandma. Mine used to sew and do cross-stitch, I miss her so much 🥹

[rubiehart]

Tbh sensitive and innocent reader not liking when john b and jj fish cuz “it’s hurting the fish and and- this is their home :(“

꒰  ✿ ꒱

sitting on the railing of the dock, legs swinging and admiring both your boyfriends in light conversation, their arms flexing as they cast the lines over the railing, and plopping into the water. as much as you loved watching them partake in this activity, considering how easy it was on the eyes, the actual action made you sad.

jj’s eyes flick up from the water to check up on you, giving you a little smile until he sees your watery eyes and pouty lips. “hey, hey what’s up?” he asks, reaching over to run a hand up your arm. you sniffle a little and wipe at your eyes, trying to stop the tears that were inevitably going to come.

it catches john b’s attention too who stands at attention, waiting for you to tell them what’s troubling your pretty little head. “‘s just-“ you sniffle, shaking your head, hesitatingly clearly.

“cmon you can tell us anythin’ babe.” john b comforts, resting his forearms on the railing and listening attentively. “‘s just hurtin’ the fish and- and this is their home.” you mumble, your voice shaking a little which starts the tears.

john b reels his line in as quick as ever to join you and jj, watching with folded arms as you tuck your face into jj’s chest. they can hear the little sobs leaving you as your wrap your arms around his neck and sniffle, you look up at observe the boys faces.

“‘m sorry. i know it’s silly.” wiping a tear from your face as jj shakes his head frantically. “nah babe, ‘s not silly. we get it.” john b takes this as sign to chime in. “yeah, we get it baby, honest.” making you smile a little.

“no more fishin’.” john b says with finality, giving jj a look, his eyes widen a little but not enough for you to notice. “yep. y’ heard him. no more fishin’.

[honey-crypt]

slowburn elliott x farmer please please please please... (falls to my knees) strangers to mutuals to friends to lovers (explodes)

i only ask for angst to comfort and a lot of romantic tension go crazy w this if u feel like it

a/n: y'all... i present to you... my magnus opus... 3 days of work... maybe 50 or so hours dedicated to this... please... please enjoy

wc: 10.1k

features: slow burn (strap in), mentions of war, strangers to lovers, romance that will make you melt, minor spoilers for year 2 of sdv and sdv expanded, elliott cries a lot, imposter syndrome, elliott is a SAPPY SAP OF A MAN WHO LOVES YOU LOTS, i pull from my own sdv worldbuilding/elliott lorebuilding for this

summary: a box of cereal. the spirit eve's maze. a rowboat's maiden voyage. these are just a few moments that define your love story with elliott.

★ chapters in a story called life - an elliott x farmer slow burn piece ★

Chapter 1: First Encounters

A well-manicured hand reached out for the box of cereal at the same time as you, calloused knuckles brushing against your hand. In one swift motion, the hand plucked the last cereal off the shelf. You let out a surprised gasp and whipped your head towards the cereal thief, “Hey!” you exclaimed, ready to reprimand them but your words fell short at the sight of the individual in question. 

Long fiery red hair draped over their shoulders and emerald eyes bore into your soul, as the cereal thief adjusted their grip on the box, “I apologize,” their voice hummed out at a warm baritone pitch, “You seemed… to be struggling with getting the cereal box. I wanted to assist,” the man, at least you assumed them to be a man with their chiseled jawline and overall physique, handed the box of cereal over to you, “Apologies for any miscommunication, I simply wished to help,” his word choice was eloquent, unnecessarily eloquent. 

“Oh, uh,” you took the cereal box and dropped it in your shopping basket, “Thanks.”

“Of course,” the stranger flashed you their pearly whites, “Have a pleasant day,” he walked off to the next aisle in Pierre’s General Store. You looked back at your box of cereal then went about your merry way, finishing up your grocery shopping for that week. 

Chapter 2: Run-in at the Beach 

The local fisherman Willy ordered a bundle of parsnips from your farm and you were able to harvest them today, your first of many orders set for delivery. You tied up the sack of parsnips with a pretty red ribbon and dropped them in your bag, ready to make the trek through town to deliver your vegetables and produce. 

After running through town like a headless chicken and delivering orders to the likes of Pierre, Gus, and Jodi, you crossed over the bridge and onto the beach. Despite living in Pelican Town for almost a week, you never stepped foot on the beach until now. The ebb and flow of the waves greeted you, as you approached Willy on the nearby pier. The old fisher released his rod back in, no fish on the hook, when he saw you walking up, “Ahoy, (Y/N). I take it that yer got me order of parsnips?”

“Yes, sir!” you gave him a salute and pulled out the sack of parsnips before handing it over to Willy, “Hope they’re up to your standards.”

“If yer anything like yer dear old grandpa, I’m sure that these parsnips will be golden,” the fisherman reassured you with a belly laugh, “Here’s a few extra G for yer troubles. Go get yerself a nice drink at the saloon later,” he placed about 500G in your hand, “I best be gettin’ back to fishin’, you have a good day, alright?”

“Thanks, Willy, I’ll do my best,” you gave Willy a nod before exiting the pier. Stepping back on shore, you inhaled a fresh breath of sea air and stretched out your legs, sore from running around for so long. You were about to make your way back to town when you noticed a familiar redhead by a fire pit to your right. The redhead sat by the fire pit, a towel beneath him and his shoes set aside. The sea breeze ruffled his ponytail, as the man peered silently out into the ocean. 

I shouldn’t bother him, you reasoned with yourself, He seems busy. You turned your heel towards the cobblestone pathway, only to hear the redhead call out to you, “Oh! Hello, there!” Shit, okay, now I have to talk to him. You turned your attention back on the man on the shore, “Er, hello there.”

His eyes fell onto your delivery bag, “Ah!” he broke out into a smile, “The new farmer we’ve all been expecting and whose arrival has sparked many a conversation,” you made your way to his side and plopped down next to him, “How did you know that I’m the new farmer?”

“Your bag sports your farm’s name,” the man pointed to the embroidered letters on your grandpa’s old bag, clearly showcasing the name of the farm. Your face warmed up with mild embarrassment and you quickly fanned your cheeks, “Oh, yes… makes sense,” Yoba, I’m so- ugh! Silly? Yeah, I’m silly and trying not to make a fool of myself in front of such a… handsome? Yeah, he’s handsome, alright. Handsome man. Okay, please stop yapping-

“We briefly met at Pierre’s earlier this week but I never had the opportunity to introduce myself,” the well groomed man broke you out of your internal monologue and extended a hand to you, “I’m Elliott. I live by the little cabin on the beach,” the man- no, Elliott- gestured to the cabin behind the two of you, its exterior weathered from the elements, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You eyed his hand and grasped it, surprisingly rough to the touch. The two of you exchanged a handshake, as you introduced yourself to Elliott, “I’m (Y/N). It’s nice to meet you, too.”

Chapter 3: Writer’s Block

You stood outside Elliott’s cabin, clutching a bag of freshly grown potatoes in your hand. Another day, another round of deliveries; at least, you got to deliver to a friendly face. You knocked on the door, only for it to slowly creak open. Cautiously, you entered the cabin and called out to the redhead, “Hello? Elliott, are you home?”

The cabin was surprisingly under-decorated and somewhat shoddy, a lone bed in the far corner of the room with a piano beside it. In the corner closest to you, Elliott hunched over his desk, the sound of pen scrubbing echoing throughout the cabin’s old walls. You called out to Elliott once more, “Elliott?” he perked up at the sound of your voice, “Ah! (Y/N)!” he rose from his desk, “What a surprise to have you in my…” his voice trailed off, “…humble abode! What do I owe the pleasure of your visit to?”

“Just dropping off your order,” you set the bag of potatoes on the closest available space, “Whatcha doing?”

“Oh, the usual,” hummed Elliott, “I’m attempting to narrow down how to address this one scene in my novel.”

“You’re a writer?” you raised your eyebrows, trying to see if you can catch a glimpse of his work. Elliott hovered by his desk and brushed a few loose papers over his work, “Yes, yes I am. It’s a bit of a funny story, but I actually moved to Pelican Town to pursue my writing career.”

“Oh, really? How come?” you asked.

Elliott placed his hands on the desk and leaned on it for support, “I supposed a life of solitude would impose some… literary genius upon me, like the great Ernest Hemingway. Yet, I’m at a standstill—” he cleared his throat, “Well, in all honesty, I’ve been at a standstill for the past two or so weeks with this one scene and I’m afraid that I’m losing steam.”

You frowned, “Yikes, that really sucks,” you moved closer to the writing desk, “Maybe you need a fresh set of eyes? Like a new perspective.”

Elliott’s eyes twinkled at your suggestion, “A most excellent idea!” he hurriedly gathered up his notes and shoved them into your hands, “Alright, the scene I’m at an impasse with is when Clara confronts Horatio about his late lover. I’m not sure if I should go with a tame heart to heart or something along the lines of a miscommunication gone awry.”

You read through the passages, familiarizing yourself with Elliott’s work. He wrote in a style similar to the aforementioned Hemingway, but his vivid imagery and passionate dialogue left you with a sense of awe and a desire for more. You got to the scene Elliott was stuck on, thumbing between earlier scenes and scanning the pages. Finally, you spoke up and suggested to Elliott, “Given Clara’s kind demeanour and Horatio’s sensitivity, I would go with the heart to heart option.”

Elliott broke out into a grin, “Splendid! You’re absolutely right!” he grabbed the papers and set them back on the desk, “Many thanks for your assistance, (Y/N). I truly appreciate it.”

“Of course,” you flashed him a smile and a thumbs up, “Happy to help.”

Chapter 4: The Flower Dance

You stood by the assortment of refreshments and finger foods, nursing a glass of sparkling cider. Every few minutes, you would mindlessly adjust your flower brooch or take a sip from your glass. Laughter and chatter filled the air, as the residents of Pelican Town joined the day’s festivities. 

You scanned the crowd and found Elliott by the river, standing beside Leah and talking about something, Probably art. Not wanting to remain idle for another moment longer, you made a beeline towards the pair of redheads and greeted them nonchalantly, “Hey, Leah. Hey, Elliott.”

“Hi, (Y/N)!” the artist returned the greeting while Elliott waved at you, “Good day, (Y/N). Are you enjoying the festivities?”

“As much as I can without dancing,” you hummed, finishing off your glass. Elliott nodded, “You make a good point. This is the Flower Dance, there’s not much planned beyond dancing.”

“Speaking of dancing, are you two dancing with anyone?” you asked the pair of redheads.

“We’ll be dancing together like we did last year,” answered Elliott. For some reason, your chest tightened at his response, but you brushed it off as allergies. Elliott fixed his tie, “We best be on our way, Leah. The dance will be starting soon.”

“I’ll catch up with you in a sec!” replied Leah, placing a hand on your shoulder, “I wanna chat with (Y/N) for a bit.”

“Okay,” the writer smiled at the two of you, “It’s always a pleasure to see you, (Y/N), and Leah, I’ll be in the main area whenever you’re ready,” he walked off without another word, as you stared longingly at his fading figure. Leah nudged you in the side, “You should dance with him instead.”

“I should?” you blinked, “But you two already agreed on dancing with each other.”

“I don’t mind passing the torch to you,” the artist nudged you once more. Yet, you shook your head and answered, “I rather not. I’m not much of a dancer anyway.”

Leah puffed out her cheeks and exhaled before stating, “You two would make a cute couple.”

You eyed Elliott in the distance and mulled over Leah’s words, “You think so?” you found yourself smiling in unison with Elliott, as the writer engaged in light banter with Willy. 

“Yeah,” the artist nodded, “I think so.”

Chapter 5: Drinking Buddies

Friday nights at the Stardrop Saloon were always the most rambunctious, at least two thirds of Pelican Town packed inside. You entered the saloon, hungry for a meal after a long day’s work, and saw a familiar figure in a blue shirt and suspenders. Elliott turned his head and grinned at the sight of you, “(Y/N), my friend! Please, have a seat with me.”

You took a seat beside Elliott at the bar, “Hey El,” the writer’s grin grew in size at the nickname, “You enjoying your Friday evening?”

“Absolutely,” answered Elliott, “Well, I must admit that it has gotten better since you arrived. It’s always a joy to see you.”

Your face heated up at his words, but you brushed it off with a laugh, “You’re sweet.”

“Of course,” the writer responded. Elliott then waved Gus over, “Hello, Gus, my friend! May I have two beers?” to which the bartender nodded, “Two beers, coming right up,” and poured two pints of beer from the tap, “Enjoy!”

“Thank you,” the redhead slid over some G to pay for the beers, enough leftover to provide Gus and Emily with some solid tips. Elliott passed one of the beers to you, “For you.”

“Why, aren’t you generous?” you chuckled, happily accepting the beer. You clutched the pint tight in your hand and Elliott raised his up towards you, “I propose a toast,” the writer announced. You held yours up, “To what?” you asked. Elliott smiled, “To our friendship.”

Your heart skipped a beat and your expression nearly soured- you weren’t sure why, though- but nonetheless, you nodded in agreement, “To our friendship,” and clinked glasses with Elliott. 

As the night went on and after a few more beers, you and Elliott were completely hammered. You could hold your liquor, of course, but the sight of Elliott merrily dancing and humming a tune made you break out in laughter and let loose. He’s cute when he’s silly. 

Chapter 6: Dance of the Moonlight Jellies 

You returned to the pier for, what local scientist Demetrius referred to as, an ‘utmost special occasion’. The occasion in question? It happened to be the annual event where moonlight jellyfish would visit the pier. You had vague memories of experiencing the event when you were a little kid with your grandpa, you remembered the fond look he had when the jellyfish would pass by.

You approached the edge of the pier near Willy’s shop and noticed Elliott looking out into the sea with that same longing look you saw the first time you properly met the tall redhead. Gently, you tapped him on the shoulder, “Hi, Elliott.”

“Oh, hello, (Y/N),” his tone was much more… serious? No, it was somewhat sad. You frowned, “What’s wrong? Aren’t you excited for the jellies?”

“I am,” he responded, as the summer breeze ruffled his ponytail, “I’m excited to the point of grief,” your frown deepened and you questioned Elliott, “What do you mean?”

Elliott scooted over so you had more room to stand, you stood by him while he explained, “We pollute the world so much, (Y/N), especially here with Joja… I see Joja CDs and Colas washed up on shore all the time and I fear the worst,” his eyes glistened with pain, “I fear that we won’t see these magnificent creatures unless we take action and hold Joja accountable for their actions.”

You let out a low hum of agreement, it reminded you of your days at Joja Co. and the stories you heard from your coworkers about the higher ups bypassing environmental protections with some hush money. It was part of the reason why you left Joja, other than the fact that it was sucking the life out of you. The day you left Joja Co. was the day you freed yourself from the chains of society. Just like Grandpa wanted. 

“I’m sure we can,” you offered reassurance to Elliott, “I believe in us, I believe that we ultimately make the right decision.”

Elliott nodded, “Thank you, (Y/N),” he looked back at the ocean, “I hope so.”

You were about to retort when Lewis announced that the event was starting, turning your attention to the mayor. Lewis released the little boat towards the sea, you watched with bated breath for the jellyfish to arrive. Your hand brushed against Elliott’s, as the town witnessed the Moonlight Jellies appear. Elliott’s pinkly slowly reached out for yours, you timidly locked pinkies with the writer, as you enjoyed the sight of the beautiful jellies. 

Maybe, one day you’d have the courage to hold his hand. 

Chapter 7: Roadblocks 

Elliott was a no-show to your weekly outing to the Stardrop Saloon and it left you concerned. He was always so punctual and he always told you ahead of time if he couldn’t make it to an event. You worried that he was sick so you left the saloon and headed to the clinic. 

The overhead bell in the door chimed when you entered, signaling your arrival to Harvey. The town doctor gave you a wave, “Hello, (Y/N),” he greeted you, “How are you today? Are you feeling unwell? Injured?” 

“No, no! I’m okay!” you explained, “I was just wondering if you had any over-the-counter medicine. I think Elliott might be sick.”

“Oh!” the doctor let out a relieved sigh, “Well, I’m glad you’re well. Let me see what I got in stock,” he left the waiting room of the clinic and after a few moments, Harvey returned with a box of medicine, “I have this generic medicine in stock. It should help with most symptoms of illness.”

“Thanks, Dr. Harvey,” you handed him some G, to which Harvey gave you the medicine in exchange, “Have a good one.”

“You, too,” the doctor replied, as he put the G in the front desk’s cash register, “And remember to stay healthy! I’m here if you need anything.”

You flashed him a thumbs up and exited the clinic, heading off to Elliott’s cabin with a determined step in your stride. Upon arriving at the cabin, you knocked on the door, “Elliott?” you called out to your friend, “Elliott, it’s me. Are you alright?”

You heard shuffling and slowly, the door creaked open to reveal a dishevelled Elliott. His usual tan was replaced by a washed out pale, as if he hadn’t stepped outside his cabin in days. He sported heavy eye bags and an exhausted expression, “Hello, (Y/N)…” the writer rubbed his eyes, “What are you doing here at this hour?”

“This hour?” you blinked with bewilderment, “El, it’s 5pm. What time do you think it is?”

“Oh, dear,” he let out a weary chuckle, “I must have the times mixed up. I apologize, but I should go back to work. I’ll be free to chat another day,” the redhead proceeded to shut the door, but you stopped it with your foot, “Elliott,” your voice was strained with worry, “You missed our saloon hangout. You never miss an event without telling me,” you held up the medicine, “So I was worried that you got sick… I got you medicine.”

Elliott gawked at the sight of your worried expression and the box of medicine, “Oh, (Y/N), I apologize… I didn’t mean to worry you. I’m not sick or anything, I just have been so wrapped up in my work that I lost track of time.”

“Elliott,” you pushed the door open with your foot, desperate to reach out to your friend, “When’s the last time you got any sleep? Yoba, when’s the last time you went outside?”

Elliott’s freckled cheeks turned red at your questions, “I, er…” he stepped back and allowed you passage inside. The inside of the cabin was dimly lit, minus the light at Elliott’s writing desk. His trash can was overfilled with crumpled up papers, broken quills, and empty bottles of ink. You set the medicine by his nightstand and asked Elliott, “How long have you been writing?”

“I lost track of time,” he answered, taking a seat at his desk. Elliott took out a fresh quill and bottle of ink, dipping the quill into the ink and writing. Yet, the quill snapped and the man who prided himself on his elegance let out a stream of curses. He shoved the papers aside and laid his head on the desk, utterly defeated. You frowned deeply and placed your hand on Elliott’s back, rubbing it tenderly, “El… Talk to me. What’s been going on?”

A soft sniffle reached your ears, as Elliott lifted his head up and exposed his watery eyes to you, “(Y/N), it’s awful. I’m awful!” he turned his body towards you and hugged your waist, “I can’t write for- I can’t write for shit, (Y/N)!” his cursing caught you off guard, but you made no comment, as the writer continued to lament, “It’s been almost two years and I haven’t completed this damn book! I- I-” he buried his face into your shirt and sobbed, “I want to give up, (Y/N). I want to throw it all away.”

You held the back of Elliott’s head in your hand and stroked it, as the redhead cried his heart out. Yoba, how it broke your heart to see him in such… agony. You remained silent while he cried, wanting to give him time. Soon, the sobs subsided and Elliott pulled away from you, his cheeks stained with tears, “I- I apologize,” he looked flustered, “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Hey,” you cupped his face in your hands and playfully squeezed his cheeks, “You’re my friend- Yoba, you’re one of my best friends. You’re allowed to lean on me for support, you’re allowed to cry in my presence,” you released your hold on his cheeks, “I’m here for you.”

Elliott sniffled and wiped away any remaining tears, “You truly are my muse,” he mumbled under his breath. Your chest tightened at his comment, “Huh?” you asked. Elliott’s eyes widened, not realizing that he made that comment aloud, “Oh, uhm- Apologies, it was nothing.”

“Oh,” you did your best to hide your disappointment. Maybe I misheard? “You need a break,” you changed the subject, “You can’t keep pushing yourself when you’re so low on steam,” you gave the writer a pat on the shoulder, “So how about you change your clothes and meet me outside, okay? We’re going to the saloon.”

Elliott nodded in confirmation, “That sounds like a marvelous idea. I’ll just be a moment,” he got up from his writing desk and walked off to his dresser. You took that as your cue to leave the cabin, wanting to give the redhead privacy to change. Although, I wouldn’t mind looking- you smacked your cheeks together, Hey! Don’t think that! You then proceeded to leave the cabin, not wanting to be consumed by thoughts of seeing your best friend naked.

Chapter 8: Spirit’s Eve

Jack-o’-lanterns and other spooky decor lined the pathway into the town square, as you entered Pelican Town for Spirit’s Eve. You dressed up as an old-timey sailor, a simple but classical costume. The town square was buzzing with chatter and the occasional creak of… skeleton bones? You peered out into the distance and sure enough, there were two skeletons in a cage. 

To your surprise, one of the onlookers happened to be Elliott, dressed up in a costume that resembled the Mad Hatter from Alice in Wonderland. I didn’t realize he was into the spooky. You waltzed up to him and tapped him on the shoulder, “Hey, El. Enjoying the display?”

Elliott whipped his body around to face you, his face deathly pale, “Er, I don’t believe I am enjoying the display,” he leaned in and whispered in your ear, “I mean to alarm you, but I think those are real skeletons.”

You stifled back a snort, “Oh, yeah?” you eyed the skeletons, as they shuffled about the cage, “I think so, too.”

Elliott audibly gulped and appeared to be on the verge of fainting, “Oh, dear. I think I may need a drink. Care to join me?”

“I would be honored,” you replied. The two of you walked off to the assortment of fall-themed foods and drinks. Elliott grabbed himself a glass of pumpkin ale while you got some apple cider. He slammed the drink back in one or two gulps and exhaled in satisfaction, “That hits the spot,” he poured himself another pumpkin ale, “I needed something to take the edge off after seeing those… creatures,” he shivered. 

“I wouldn’t have pegged you as a scaredy cat,” you hummed, taking a sip from your glass of apple cider. Elliott pouted, “It’s perfectly reasonable to be cautious around creatures of the undead,” he protested to you. In exchange, you let out a snort and stated, “It’s okay to be a scaredy cat.”

Elliott rolled his eyes and took another swing of his ale, “I’ll prove to you that I’m not a scaredy cat!” he proclaimed. You eyed him up with curiosity, “Oh, yeah? How so, tough guy?” his cheeks were flushed at your usage of tough guy and he responded, “By completing the maze! I hear that it’s especially spooky,” the redhead pointed to the maze in the distance. He was right, it did look especially spooky. 

“Wanna make this a bet?” you offered to Elliott. The writer’s eyes twinkled with excitement, “Depends on the bet, all I ask is that there’s no skinny dipping involved. You wouldn’t believe the amount of times I had to do that.”

Oh, I can imagine, “First one to finish the maze gets an IOU from the loser,” you proposed the bet to Elliott, “Other than skinny dipping,” you added on. Elliott flashed you his signature smile, “That sounds wonderful,” he finished his ale and discarded the glass in the washing bin, “One, two, three, go!” the writer sprinted off, leaving you in the dust, “Hey!” you yelled, trying to finish your cider as quickly as you could so you could run after him. 

Soon, you found yourself in the dreaded maze, thick but neatly trimmed bushes towering before you. You passed by a few other townies in your quest to complete the maze, such as Harvey and Abigail. After confronting a few dead ends, you were positive that the area where you found Sam in had a way. The blond mentioned something off about the nearby bush, perhaps that was the key to beating Elliott.

Footsteps echoed throughout the maze, as the man in question showed up behind you, “It appears that we’re tied,” he stated, “Yet, there also appears to be another dead end.”

“I don’t think so,” you beckoned Elliott to follow you. You approached the bush near the left side of the maze and patted around the area. Your hand suddenly slipped through an opening in the bush and you grinned, “Found it!” you immediately ran through the opening, Elliott hot on your heels. You weaved and bobbed through the terrain, laughing up at a storm. 

However, you failed to notice a tree root on the path and tripped over it, barely twisting your body in time so you landed on your back and not your face. Elliott couldn’t stop himself in time and promptly fell on top of you, slamming the palms of his hands into the ground so he didn’t crush you under his weight. Time seemed to pause, as you and Elliott locked eyes with one another, so painfully close. Your eyes drifted down to his lips and you swore that he did the same. You were so close, you were so very close. 

“Are you okay?” Elliott asked, as he pushed himself off the ground and back onto his feet, much to your disappointment. You were so close, “I’m okay,” you answered. Elliott then extended a hand to you and pulled you up from the ground, you stumbled a bit but Elliott caught you in time before you could fall again. Yoba, he was so warm and gentle, it was as if you were hugging a teddy bear.

“Be careful,” he told you, “I don’t want you to get hurt,” your heart fluttered at his words, “O- Okay,” you stammered a bit, “I’ll try not to.”

“Let’s try to finish the maze,” the writer released you from the embrace. You nodded in agreement and the two of you resumed your journey through the maze in silence. Finally, after what felt like hours, you two arrived at the end of the maze, where a treasure chest laid before you. Elliott gestured to the chest, “You should have it. After all, you were the one who found the opening that got us here.”

“Are you sure?” you questioned the writer. He gave you a smile in confirmation, “I’m positive.”

You approached the treasure chest and opened it, pulling out the prize. It was a golden pumpkin! Oh how it shined so beautifully under the moonlight. You showed the golden pumpkin to Elliott, “Look here! Isn’t this neat?”

“Very neat!” he laughed, “What a wonderful prize,” the writer then pointed to a nearby mine cart, “I believe that might be our ticket out of here.”

You hopped into the mine cart and noticed there was enough room for you, “Wanna ride with me?” you asked. Elliott shook his head, “No, it’s alright. I’ll take it when it comes back.”

You did your best to hide your sadness at his rejection and responded, “Alrighty… I’ll see you later, then,” you activated the mine cart and rode back to the outside of the maze. You considered waiting for Elliott to come back, but ultimately decided against it. You needed to go home, you needed space… so you left.

After some time, Elliott returned to the outside of the maze, eager to see you. Yet, to his surprise, you were nowhere to be seen. He frowned upon the realization that you left early and went over to grab his bag so he could leave, as well. As Elliott left the festival, his bag’s zipper opened a bit, revealing a small bouquet of flowers nestled inside. 

Chapter 9: My Muse 

Things were tense between you and Elliott ever since the incident in the maze during Spirit’s Eve. Each time you would hang out or see one another, the air would be… off. Yet, neither of you would address it, much to the annoyance of Leah, who happened to know both sides of the story and was sworn to secrecy about the crushes. Poor Leah, oh how she just wanted to slam you two’s faces together so you could make up and make out. 

You knew that Leah was right, though; you had to confess sooner or later, but the idea of getting rejected by Elliott consumed any confidence you had about asking him out. Nonetheless, you bought the bouquet from Pierre’s, the traditional gift used to ask a person to be your partner in Stardew Valley. You kept the bouquet fresh with water and plant food, not wanting it to die out before you could give it to Elliott. 

You weren’t sure how this crush started nor how it flourished to the point where your mind was plagued with Elliott almost everyday. Does he feel the same or am I just a dumbass for wanting him to feel the same? That was the question on your mind since Spirit’s Eve. 

You left your farmhouse early one morning and found the flag up on your mailbox, indicating that you had mail. Setting your scythe aside, you headed over to the mail and opened it, collecting the letters inside. You thumbed through the letters, seeing one from Pierre and another from Jodi. However, you stopped when you saw a letter with all too fancy handwriting and a red wax seal on it, Elliott wrote me a letter? you carefully opened the envelope and read its contents.

Dearest (Y/N),

I’m delighted to announce that I finally finished my novel, Camelia Station! I would be the utmost grateful if you were to attend my book reading today, at 3pm in the library. If you can’t, I understand. You’re a busy person, after all. Nonetheless, I hope you can come.

— Elliott 

You grinned ear to ear at his use of ‘Dearest’, he wrote like a Victorian noble. Your eyes darted to the words underneath Elliott’s signatures, eyes wide as you read.

P.S. I have a surprise for you. 

A surprise? your mind ran through all the possibilities of what it could be, Could it be him confessing to me? you shook your head, Maybe not… but this is a good chance for me to, though. You looked down at your watch and set an alarm for a quarter to three, plenty of time to get from the farm to the library. With that all out of the way, you then went about your chores for the day. 

After hours of hard labor, your alarm went off. You ran into your farmhouse and wiped off any sweat or grime from your body, spraying yourself in body mist to conceal the smell. On your way out, you grabbed your bag and the bouquet, neatly tucking it inside the bag. 

By the time you arrived at the library, most of the town was inside, presumably for Elliott’s book reading. Yet, the man of the hour was nowhere to be seen. You scanned the room and found Leah near the front, so you slid up beside her, “Hey Leah,” you adjusted your grip on your bag, “Have you seen Elliott?”

“I did earlier,” she answered, “I think he went to the bathroom, but he’s been gone for a while.”

“Can you hold this for a second? I’ll go find him,” you passed your bag off to Leah and made your way to the bathroom. You entered the bathroom and found Elliott by the sink, gripping down on the porcelain. He was muttering something under his breath, you couldn’t make out the words, “El?” you touched his back and he nearly jumped out of his skin, “(Y/N)!” he exclaimed, “Oh, dear, you gave me a fright!”

“I knew you were a scaredy cat,” you jested. Elliott rolled his eyes, just like last time you brought up his tendency for fear. You moved next to Elliott and leaned against the sink, “Why are you hiding in the bathroom?” you asked. Elliott lowered his gaze and mumbled, “I… I’m scared.”

“It’s okay to be scared,” you rested your hand on his shoulder and squeezed it, “It’s your big day. I know you’re gonna do great. Everyone’s here to support you,” the redhead looked back at you, “Are you sure they’re not here to witness my demise?” You stifled back a laugh at his melodramatic question, “I promise that they’re not here to ‘witness your demise’ or anything of the sort.” 

“Promise?” he asked, his tone similar to that of a small child. You held up your pinky, “I promise,” and intertwined pinkies with Elliott. The redhead smiled weakly, but nonetheless, he was ready to perform. With you trailing behind him, Elliott entered the main area of the library and greeted everyone with his good old Elliott bravo, “Good afternoon, ladies, gentlemen, and folks! I’m ever so honored to have you all here to celebrate the release of my book, Camelia Station.”

As Elliott babbled about his journey with writing his novel, you returned to your spot with Leah and watched with a fond twinkle in your eye at your friend. Elliott took one last deep breath and announced to the crowd, “Before I read the first chapter, there’s something I need to say…” his eyes fell on you, “I wish to thank my muse… (Y/N),” your heart began to pound like a bass drum, “Without them, I wouldn’t have completed this book. Through every hardship and challenge I faced with this process, (Y/N) was my shining light. I dedicate Camelia Station to them, so please... give them a round of applause.”

The library erupted in applause, but it was white noise to you, as you stared at Elliott in awe. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears and your hand grew clammy, as you slowly melted from the writer’s sweetness. His muse… I’m his muse.

The applause slowly died down and Elliott seized the opportunity to begin the reading, “Chapter One… Your ticket, sir? Ticket collector Gozman extended a gloved hand towards the young commuter. Ah, yes. I have it right here, he replied, reaching into his coat pocket. Mortified, he discovered that the ticket was missing…”

You listened with a keen ear to Elliott’s reading, mesmerized by his storytelling. The way he switched voices for each character, the vibrato in his words, the detailed imagery transported into the world of Camelia Station. Elliott was talented, but most importantly, he was having fun with his book.

By the time Elliott finished the chapter, a few townsfolk left the library, most likely returning to their daily responsibilities. The remaining audience applauded the writer for his reading and Elliott took a bow, “Thank you, thank you! I will have signed copies for sale at the front. Once again, thank you for coming, everyone!”

You hovered by the front of the library, watching silently while some individuals like Emily and Gus bought a signed copy of Camelia Station from Elliott. Once the crowd dispersed, you approached Elliott and flashed him a cheeky grin, “See, I told you that there was nothing to worry about.”

“You were right,” the writer replied, “Most times, you are right,” you scoffed mockingly, “Most times?” to which Elliott gave you a little nudge, “You do think sea cucumbers are a lovely fish when in actuality, you’re very very very wrong.”

“C’mon! They’re just little guys!” you huffed, much to Elliott’s amusement. A comfortable silence then fell upon the two of you, as you stared into one another’s eyes. Elliott’s pupils were big as saucers, you were positive that yours were, too. 

“Did you mean what you said earlier?” you rested your hand against your bag, the bouquet so close to your person. With pink tinted cheeks, the redhead answered, “I meant every word.”

“Elliott…” your mouth grew dry with nerves.

“(Y/N)...” the writer whispered.

Time stopped, as you pulled the bouquet out of your bag. At the same time, Elliott pulled out an identical bouquet from his own bag. Neither of you moved or spoke, you could only stare at the opposing bouquet. Soon and in unison, you and Elliott bursted into laughter, loud enough to get a scolding look from Gunther. 

You two finished your laugh fest and smiled at one another, “Wow,” you let out a soft laugh, “We really had the same idea, huh?” the redhead nodded, “It seems so.”

“Guess that means we’re dating?”

“Well, I did have a sonnet for you to highlight your passion, beauty, and kindness, but yes, we are dating.”

Chapter 10: Feast of the Winter Star

The fall season went by in an instant and brought the snow and frigid temperatures of winter. You and Elliott had been dating for a while when the Feast of the Winter Star rolled around. 

To your surprise and joy, Lewis mailed you earlier in the season that Elliott was your secret gift receiver. Part of you wondered if Lewis did that on purpose, but given how he handled his relationship with Marnie (you unfortunately found them in a compromised position in the bushes by the bridge in town), you highly doubted it. 

Despite Camelia Station’s completion, Elliott was already on his next book, a mystery called The Blue Tower. You thought it to be fitting that you gifted him a glass dip pen; he was strict about his writing instruments and never used a laptop, despite its ease and functionality. Hopefully, this was a good compromise. In addition, Marnie’s poor ducks would no longer have to suffer with Elliott’s weekly trips to the ranch for duck feathers. I think those ducks might be afraid of Elliott now. 

The Feast of Winter brought families, friends, and lovers together in the beautifully decorated town square. The lamp posts were lined with tinsel and a thick evergreen tree stood in the center, decked out in various ornaments with a big shining star on the top. You searched the bustling square for Elliott and found him with Gus and Leah, enjoying a glass of cranberry wine.

“Surprise,” you hugged Elliott from behind and whispered in his ear. He yelped and almost dropped his wine, “Oh! (Y/N), my love! You scared me!”

“Told yah,” you cooed, “You are a scaredy cat.”

“I concede,” sighed Elliott, “I am a bit of a scaredy cat.”

“Good enough for me,” you released him from the hug and pecked him on the kiss. You then turned your attention to Leah and Gus, but they were too absorbed in conversation. Well, at least, Gus was, as he enthusiastically lectured Leah about his various techniques for cranberry sauce. Leah, on the other hand, appeared half-sleep, but managed to have perfectly timed head nods to fake engagement.

“By the way,” you perked up at Elliott’s voice, “I have something for you,” he handed you a somewhat heavy box, neatly wrapped in red paper and secured with a golden bow, “I’m your secret gift giver!”

“What a coincidence!” you giggled, as you held out your gift to Elliott, “I’m yours,” the two of you shared a laugh and Elliott mused, “Perhaps the mayor had a part in that.”

“I doubt it,” you responded, “He’s–” you felt Lewis stare daggers in your back, as if he could hear what you were about to say, “He doesn't seem like the type to meddle in romance or romantic relationships,” you looked down at your gift, “Why is this kinda… heavy?”

“Open it up, my dear, and you shall see,” stated Elliott.

“Only if we do it at the same,” you requested and Elliott nodded, “It’s a deal.”

Together, you and Elliott unwrapped your gifts, you more so ripped through yours while Elliott was meticulous with his unwrapping. Before you, there was a black box, you opened the box up and gasped at the item inside, “You didn’t!” you exclaimed, proudly showcasing the gift to the world, “You got me the Polaroid camera we saw at the antique shop in ZuZu City!”

“I did!” replied Elliott, “You looked so happy when you saw it and you mentioned how much you wanted to get back into photographing your life, so I had to get it,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Anything for my muse.”

“You’re sweet,” you chuckled, “Now, look at your gift!”

Elliott opened the thin, white box and nearly choked on his own saliva at the glass dip pen. He carefully removed the pen from the box, a beam of rainbow light shining from the glass, “Oh, (Y/N)... this is one of–” he cut himself short, “No, this is the most beautiful and thoughtful gift I have ever received,” he gave you another kiss on the forehead, “You spoil me, my dear.”

“You haven’t seen the best part yet, turn it around,” you informed Elliott. 

He turned the pen around and read the engraving, “It says…” he squinted, “The Spirit of the Valley,” he seemed a bit confused by the words and you elaborated to him, “Your writing and you, Elliott, are so deeply connected to this valley. You brought life with your writing to this valley. You brought life, joy, and peace to me. You are the spirit that’s ingrained in me and this valley.”

Elliott sniffled, tears pricking the corners of his gentle emerald eyes, “You, my muse, are intertwined with my very being. I would be utterly lacking in life’s blessings if you weren’t here,” he pulled you into a deep kiss, your hands finding their way through his long fiery hair.

“Uh, guys?” the sound of Leah’s voice interrupted the kiss, “Too much PDA.”

Chapter 11: The S.S. Granger

Spring flew by as fast as it came. You tended to your farm, interacted with those in Pelican Town, and partook in the festivities. Your first spring was one full of unknowns and uncertainties but now, you finally felt like you were part of the town and the valley. You got some good use of the camera Elliott gifted you during the Feast of the Winter Star, photographing every precious moment. Your favorite photo was the one Leah took of you and Elliott dancing at the Flower Dance. 

Soon, summer followed the peaceful spring weather with thunderstorms, heatwaves, and… green rain? Yeah, green rain happened. Only in Stardew Valley, huh? It took half of the season before nice sunny weather came and it happened to be the same day you received a somewhat cryptic letter from Elliott.

My darling,

I hope this letter finds you in good health. If you are available, please stop by the beach before noon today. I have something spectacular to show you. 

– Yours truly, Elliott 

Elliott didn’t know, but you cherished every letter he sent you, even though they were  somewhat cheesy. You went back inside your farmhouse and opened your dresser, grabbing the ornate box you kept Elliott’s letters in and placing it inside. Your eyes darted up at the wall clock, the time being around 11am or so. I need to get to the beach!

You made your way to the beach, exchanging greetings with the passing residents. When you stepped on the bridge, you noticed a man with a short crew cut and camo leaning against the bridge and admiring the river. You smiled at him, “Hi, Kent.”

The man in camo flinched at your greeting and you frowned. It was only last spring that Kent returned from the Gotoro-Ferngill War and he wasn’t adjusted yet, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” you apologized.

Kent shook his head, “It’s alright,” he ran a hand through his hair, “Just a reflex.”

“Gotcha,” you nodded. You eyed the river and asked Kent, “Enjoying the view?”

“I am,” he answered, “Water is… calming.”

“Agreed,” you hummed, “Well, I’m off to the beach, but I hope you have a nice day.”

“Thank you, (Y/N),” replied Kent, “I wish you the same,” you bid farewell to Kent and resumed your walk to the beach. 

You soon stepped foot on the beach, as a crisp summer breeze blew through the air. You sighed with relief at the cold sensation, it was a hot summer day. Feeling energized, you scanned the beach for Elliott and found him standing outside his cabin. He broke out into a grin when he saw you, “(Y/N)! My love, I’m so glad you’re here!”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you laughed, embracing Elliott. The two of you held the other as tight as you could, “What’s the surprise?” you mumbled, voice muffled by your face in Elliott’s chest. Elliott released you from the hug and responded, “You’ll see,” he intertwined his hand with yours and led you to the pier. In the center of the pier, a rowboat bobbed against the waters. 

Elliott gestured to the boat, “I finally fixed up the old rowboat outside my cabin… with Willy’s help, of course. I’m not much of a handyman but I did give it a fresh coat of paint,” you examined the rowboat with intrigue, its mahogany coat glimmering under the sunlight. You noticed some cursive on the hull of the boat, “S.S. Granger?”

“Named after my high school English teacher, Mr. Granger,” the redhead explained, “He was the one who lit the spark of creativity and my passion for writing,” he smiled sadly at the boat, “We kept in touch after I graduated high school, but sadly, he passed away from cancer when I was finishing up my bachelors’ at East Ferngill University.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you gave Elliott’s arm a squeeze, a sign of support, “I’m sure he would be proud of the man you’ve become.”

“I hope so,” the writer sighed. Elliott shook off his melancholy and hopped onto the boat, extending a helping hand out to you, “Care to join me for its maiden voyage?”

“Of course,” you grasped Elliott’s hand and boarded the rowboat. You took a seat across from Elliott, who grabbed the oars and began rowing farther into the Gem Sea. The pier faded into the distance, as Elliott rowed the boat. By the time he stopped, you could only make out the silhouette of Stardew Valley, “Wow,” you were starstruck, “You can see the whole valley from here.”

“Beautiful view, isn’t it?” the writer shuffled around a bit in his seat, “Although, I prefer the beautiful view right before my eyes.”

“You’re cheesy,” you snorted. Elliott shrugged his shoulders, “I would rather be cheesy if it means bringing a smile to your face,” you playfully nudged his arm, “You’re gonna make me melt.”

“Oh, my dear, don’t do that just yet,” Elliott cleared his throat, “I have another surprise for you,” you tilted your head with wonder, “Oh? You do?”

“I do,” the writer stated. He then secured the oars in the boat and began to recite, "Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate… Rough winds do shake the darling buds of Spring…”

You leaned in closer, entranced by your boyfriend’s words, as he continued, “And summer’s lease hath too short a date… Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines… And often is his gold complexion dimm’d… And every fair from fair sometime declines…” 

The world around you two came to a standstill, “By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm’d… But thy eternal summer shall not fade… Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st… Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade…”

You leaned closer and closer into Elliott’s space, you could inhale his sweet pomegranate perfume, or in his words, his eau de parfum, Elliott was always a stickler with his words. He stared into your eyes, your soul, as he finished the sonnet, “When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st… So long as men can breathe or eyes can see… So long lives this, and gives life to thee.”

“Ellie…” you whispered. The writer smiled, “For the first time in my lifetime, I was at a loss for words and it was the moment I laid eyes on you at Pierre’s. You took my breath away, my love. It was only fair to share it with you in the form of one, if not, the greatest love sonnets.”

“Ellie, what are you saying?” you watched, as Elliott pulled a small, velvet box from his pant pocket, “(Y/N),” his tone was deep with emotion, “My muse, my love, my darling, my dear. I have a thousand names for you but,” he pulled a velvet box from his pants pocket, “Will you do me the highest honor and allow ‘spouse’ be one of those names?” Elliott slowly opened the box and inside, there was a Mermaid Pendant.

You covered your mouth and muffled your scream of delight before calming down enough to answer, “Yes! Yes, Elliott, I will marry you!” you embraced the redhead, nearly tackling in the process. You kissed Elliott deeply, the flames of love and passion exploding like fireworks. In that very moment, everything in the world- no, everything in the universe- was simply perfect.

Chapter 11: Wedding Bells

You fidgeted with your Mermaid’s Pendant, as Marnie and Emily added the final touches to your wedding outfit. Once they finished your outfit, you promptly walked off from the mirror in your farmhouse and began to pace around the farmhouse, “Oh my Yoba, what if he changes his mind?” you spouted off your worries. 

“I highly doubt,” answered Leah, your person of honor, “If he dares to even think about leaving you at the altar, I’ll knock some sense into him,” she held up her fists, “And I mean knock some sense into him.”

“Thanks, Leah,” you sighed, relieved. Emily, a member of your wedding party, approached you with your bouquet, a small one made of summer spangles and sunflowers you grew on the farm, “You are gonna do great, (Y/N)!” she reassured you, “I’m manifesting it for you, you will do great.”

“Thanks, Emily,” you chuckled, “I can always count on your manifestations.”

“Are you ready, dear?” Marnie asked, “It’s almost time.”

“I’m as ready as I can be,” you answered. 

You exited the farmhouse with Emily, Leah, and Marnie; the four of you making way to the entrance of the beach near Cindersap Forest. You gripped the bouquet tightly, your chest just as tight with fear. Marnie stood beside you and held out her arm, you relaxed the hold on your bouquet and locked arms with Marnie.

“You’re such a gorgeous marrier,” the rancher told you, “I’m so honored to be the one who passes you off, I hope I do your parents’ duty proud.”

Your parents couldn’t attend the wedding, your father being overseas fighting in the Gotoro-Ferngill War and your mother on the other side of the Ferngill Republic with her responsibilities at the hospital she worked at. You responded to Marnie, “You’re like a mom to me, Marnie. It felt right that you would be the one to hand me off.”

“And you’re like one of my own, (Y/N),” she retorted. You stared out towards the beach, getting a small sneak peek at the wedding arch. It’s now or never. You gave Marnie a nod and she hollered to the trio of Sam, Sebastian, and Abigail by the entrance, “It’s time!”

“Alright!” Sam cheered, “Let’s rock!” the band launched into the wedding march and you began walking to the beach with your wedding party behind you. 

Before you, the entirety of Pelican Town sat in white fold out chairs on the beach, as you followed the row of fabric towards the wedding arch. Near the front of the crowd, you spotted two familiar figures in a suit and blue dress, your parents. When you passed them, you whispered to them, “You came.”

“We did!” your mom smiled at you, “It took some phone calls, but we didn’t want to miss our angel baby’s wedding,” your dad nodded in agreement, “I can handle Gotoro grunts on the front line, but the thought of missing my only child’s wedding? That’s unacceptable. I’m sorry we couldn’t tell you sooner.”

“It’s okay!” you replied, “It’s a great surprise!” you blew kisses at your parents and continued your walk to the wedding arch. Under the arch, Willy and Gus stood by Elliott as his wedding party. Your soon-to-be husband’s back faced you and once released to the altar by Marnie, you tapped Elliott on the back, “I’m here, honey.”

Elliott turned around and audibly gasped, “My darling! You- You-” tears suddenly formed in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks, “Oh, my sweet darling, you look absolutely radiant,” he leaned in to kiss you, only to have Mayor Lewis shove his hand in between you, “Mr. Lovebird! No kissing until I say so!” he proclaimed. Elliott pouted at the mayor’s interruption, but nonetheless, he pulled back. 

The two of you smiled widely at the other, your eyes shimmering with anticipation. Lewis stood behind you and he began the ceremony, “Can all attendees rise?”

The wedding guests rose from their seats and Lewis spoke to everyone, “We are gathered here today to celebrate the love of Elliott and (Y/N). My dear friends,” he smiled at you and Elliott, “This is a new chapter in your lives, from the moment I proclaim them to be spouses to the day you die.”

“That’s the plan,” you mused, earning a few chuckles. Mayor Lewis let out a laugh, “Splendid! Then we should get right into it!” he continued with his opening remarks, but you paid no attention to him, as you found yourself lost in Elliott’s eyes. 

“Now, the marriers will exchange vows,” you perked up at the mention of vows, watching silently as Elliott pulled out a piece of parchment and unfolded it, “(Y/N)... As I mentioned before during our boat ride, I was at a loss of words when I first laid eyes on you,” he recited his vows.

He let out a shaky breath, on the verge of crying again, “And today, I am again at a loss for words. There are no words in our language that can accurately describe your beauty, your strength, your resilience, your passion, your love. (Y/N), I thank Yoba and the forces of the universe that we are here at this moment,” the redhead hastily wiped his tears away, “You are my world, (Y/N). I love you.”

A collection of ‘aws’ and cheers erupted from the audience, as they clapped for Elliott’s vows. You sniffled a bit and blinked back your own tears, “Damn,” you let out a wobbly laugh, “Your vows blew mine out of the water, honey,” you passed your bouquet to Leah and grasped Elliott’s hands, “Elliott, the day I met… I was hella pissed off that you grabbed my cereal.”

The crowd laughed and you added on, “I thought you were a dick for that, but when you explained to me that you only wanted to help… that spark of unprompted kindness lit a flame in me. As I got to know you, I found myself falling deeper and deeper in love with you. From your passion to your mannerisms to your silliness to your determination… Elliott, I can’t picture my future without you. I can’t wait to make a beautiful life with you.”

Another round of applause came from the wedding attendees and Elliott grinned at you, his eyes full of unabashed love for you. Mayor Lewis gestured for the applause to simmer down and once there was silence, he announced, “With the vows now done… It’s my honor to, on this lovely summer day, unite Elliott and (Y/N) together as one,” you squeezed Elliott’s hands, eager to hear the ‘okay’ to kiss.

“As the mayor of Pelican Town and regional bearer of the matrimonial seal…” the mayor stated, as you took a deep breath, “I now pronounce you spouses! You may kiss!” you and Elliott wasted no time when given the ‘okay’ to kiss, as Elliott dipped you and kissed you tenderly on the kiss. Cheers and hollers of joy erupted once more from the wedding attendees in celebration of your new matrimony. 

Elliott pulled you back up and finished the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. He whispered softly to you, “You’re my spouse,” to which you smiled, “And you’re my spouse,” you planted a kiss on Elliott’s cheek, “It’s time for our new chapter, isn’t it?”

“You’re right about that, my dear,” he answered, “The first chapter in our story.”

A new chapter, indeed.

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Epilogue: Remembrance

A redheaded woman in pantsuit stood in front of the orchard, fresh fruit hanging from the trees. Besides her, two small children held each of her hands. The woman heard the sound of footsteps, as a man in farmer overalls and similar red hair approached the orchard, his work boots crunching the autumn leaves. 

“Eleanor,” the farmer greeted the well-dressed woman, “Glad to see you here,” he supported his body against the hoe, “I didn’t think you would come.”

“I may be a busy woman, but I take offense that you doubt my attendance for this day, Elias,” Eleanor scoffed at Elias, the farmer. He shrugged his shoulders and instead commented, “You brought Kenny and Quinn with you?”

“Yes,” answered Eleanor, “I thought they deserved a chance to– Heyo!” a loud voice cut into the conversation, as another redhead appeared. They dressed in casual but neat attire, a flannel wrapped around their waist and their exposed arms displaying some old scars, “Sorry, I’m late! I got held up at my logging site.”

“Late as ever, Echo,” chuckled Elias. With a pout, Echo exclaimed, “Hey! Not my fault that I had to cut down a whole forest after last week’s wildfire!”

“Enough, you two,” Eleanor stated, “Do you have the supplies?” to which Echo and Elias confirmed that they did, “Splendid,” she squatted down to her children’s levels, “Kenny, Quinn… I know this might seem scary, but Mommy’s here to keep you safe, okay? You might not understand it now, but you deserve the chance to see them.”

“Okay, Mommy,” replied Kenny and Quinn. Eleanor squeezed their hands and with that, the group entered the orchard, going deeper and deeper until they made it to their destination. Two gravestones stood proudly in the center of the orchard, a few dead fruits and flowers by them. Echo pulled out a trash bag and collected the dead items while Eleanor and Elias set down fresh pomegranates and sunflowers. 

“Mommy, where are we?” asked Quinn.

“We’re at your…” Eleanor blinked back tears, “These are your grandparents, you were very little when they went to Yoba, but they loved you both so very much.”

Kenny stared out at the gravestones and squinted, “Mommy, what do they say?”

Eleanor read the gravestone engravings aloud, “The one on the left has ‘Elliott Cunnigham’ at the top and below it, it says ‘Beloved Writer, husband, and father.’ The one on the right has ‘(Y/N) Cunningham’ with the words ‘Beloved Town Hero, spouse, and parent’,” Eleanor looked up at Echo and Elias with tears in her eyes, “Can one of you do it?”

“I got it,” answered Elias. He approached Eleanor’s side and grabbed the final offering, setting it down between the graves, “We can go if you want.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” replied Echo. Eleanor nodded in agreement, “Let’s go to the Stardrop Saloon, I think Gus would be happy to see all of us together.”

“Sounds like a great plan,” chuckled Elias. 

With everyone in tow, the siblings and their children left the orchard, leaving the gravestones at peace for another year. The final offering laid still in the space between the burial sites. 

A single box of cereal.