#Holi Shopping Guide

[bharatsastra]

ভারতের সবচেয়ে রঙিন উৎসব হোলি

ভারতের সবচেয়ে রঙিন উৎসব হোলি | Most colorful festival Holi হোলি, যাকে প্রায়শই “রঙের উৎসব” বলা হয়, এটি ভারতের সবচেয়ে প্রাণবন্ত এবং আনন্দময় উৎসবগুলির মধ্যে একটি। এই প্রাচীন হিন্দু উৎসবটি (Most colorful festival Holi) বসন্তের আগমন এবং ভালোর মন্দের উপর বিজয়কে চিহ্নিত করে। ভারতীয় পুরাণের শিকড় থেকে উদ্ভূত, হোলি হল এমন একটি সময় যখন মানুষ একত্রিত হয়, পার্থক্য ভুলে যায় এবং রঙ, সংগীত এবং…

[obxsummer]

wave of you // ghost of you

pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader

summary: more treasure hunting continues but your group takes time to enjoy the perfect surf day. it was perfect, that is until topper’s girlfriend becomes unhinged and you find yourself in the middle of an argument with… rafe cameron coming to your defense?

warnings: the usual obx angst, anxiety attacks, mentions of PTSD, cursing, crying. yeah.

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--

Sarah and John B had beat your half of the group back to the house, Kiara having been running the shop in the unexpected absences. After taking a shower to scrub the hospital off of you and changing into the comfiest clothes you could find, you joined everyone in the living area where everyone was sharing their half of the past few hours. 

John B and Sarah had taken the amulet to get an inscription translated into what you found out said Where the living and dead collide, the gatekeeper will guide the way, whatever that meant. They were kicked out shortly after revealing where the object was from, the individual telling them it was cursed. 

“Genrette was obsessed with Blackbeard, so maybe directions to his treasure?” John B theorized as he handed the amulet over to JJ.

“So, what is this treasure?” Cleo continued, “Gold?”

Pope shook his head. “No, I remember hearing something about like a… a crown, blue crown?”

His suggestion was immediately vetoed by Cleo and Kiara, neither girl believing a word he offered. You sighed and leaned back into the cushions of the couch, wrapping the blanket tighter around you as you listened to them bicker. 

“Apparently, it is the most sought out artifact in the ancient world,” John B read off a page of a book he’d grabbed from the shelf. You squinted at the object in his hand, quietly asking yourself when your brother of all people read a book. “The blue crown was created for Darius the Great of Persia over 3,000 years ago.”

“That’s worth more than 50k.”

John B ignored JJ’s comment and continued, “It was said to possess the blessing of the gods themselves, granting the wearer immense favor and rare invincibility. Holy shit, look at this. Xerxes, the son of Darius the Great, he was a badass. He’s wearing it. Uh, Alexander the Great, beat the shit out of everybody. He��s wearing it. Julius Caesar, also a badass, murdered a bunch of people.”

“Dad told you all of this?” You asked him as he read the names off the pages. Pushing yourself to your feet, you moved to stand behind JJ and rested your chin on his shoulder as you looked over at what they were reading. He moved you into his side, thumb brushing your hip bone as he tugged you close.

John B shook his head at your question, glancing up at you. “No, no. I don’t remember any of this, I just know it granted wishes.”

“Like a genie?”

“Hold on, it says right here the crown was lost sometime in the 1700s, but it was rumored to be hunted down by… Blackbeard.”

There was no argument that the direction of the treasure hunt had been changed when it came to a priceless item versus 50k. The whole night shifted, turning into a bonfire and celebration between the group that brought everyone’s spirits back up.

“Oh, come on!” You complained as Pope smacked your burnt marshmallow from his face, sending the treat into the grass a few feet away. “Pope, that was my fuckin’ marshmallow!”

“I’ll make you a different one! The burnt ones are ass!”

You groaned in response and fake pouted before shaking the can of beer in your hand to find it empty. The six of you had been out here since sundown, embracing the thrill of the evening and what lay ahead. Despite hating the danger your group always seemed to head into, you missed this feeling of nostalgia and anticipation. 

JJ’s hands grabbed your hips as you got up from your folding chair, bumping into him as you did so. You covered his hand in the one that didn’t have an empty can and smiled at him. “My knight in shining armor.”

“At your service, baby,” He replied instantly, trading your empty can for the fresh one he had next to him. Once it was securely in your hand, he tugged on your waist until you fell into his lap, a squeal escaping your lips before the two of you lost balance with the momentum and tumbled backward into the grass. 

You screamed in shock, your beer flying away in the chaos as you rolled off JJ who was high off his ass and giggling loudly at the fall. You couldn’t stop the laughter escaping your lips and dropped into the grass completely, overwhelmed with happiness for the first time in what felt like forever. “You dumbass!” 

“C’mere!” 

Another yelp escaped you as JJ swooped you off the lawn and over his shoulder, hauling your ass toward the house with no explanation. 

“Oh come on!” John B groaned and covered his eyes with his hand as JJ carried you out of view, various whistles from the ground following. “Fuckin’ hate you, JJ!”

JJ flipped your brother off with his free hand and walked into the house, closing the door with his shoe before he gently placed your feet on the ground. You grinned up at him, your hands wrapping around his neck to pull him impossibly closer. 

“Did you need something?” You teased and faked innocence as you fluttered your eyelashes to drive the effect home.

JJ tsked his tongue, his fingers cupping your neck before he kissed you roughly, moaning at the way your body fell into him without hesitation. You knew he wasn’t going to hold back very long and there was a 100% chance your friends could walk in at any moment.

“Upstairs,” You rushed out as his lips dropped to your neck, nipping softly at your skin to make your knees even weaker. “Jay.”

“Yeah, yeah,” He mumbled, his kisses stopping long enough for him to crouch and loop his arms around your ass and waist and pick you up, your ankles crossing behind his back, supported by his strong grip. “Lemme love on you.”

You hummed, kissing him again and biting gently on his bottom lip in response to his request. “You can love on me as much as you went when it’s not somewhere John B can see it.”

JJ groaned and shook his head. “Please stop bringing up your brother when we’re making out.”

You laughed loudly as he started walking up the stairs to your room, his kisses lingering on your collarbone and his grip tight as he did. The lack of light was welcomed as you landed on the bed with a laugh, barely having a second to pull your shirt off and drop your shoes before JJ was hovering over you with a hungry desire in his eyes and a whole night to make you his, again and again, just as he intended to.

--

The next morning was a haze of blissful kisses and a warm shower between you and JJ, the house still silent as everyone slept. Your boyfriend wrapped you in a soft towel, pressing a kiss to your forehead before telling you he was going to check on the shack. It hadn’t taken more than a few minutes before he was running through the house, waking everyone up and telling them about the swell.

The warm sunlight was shining through the window as you slipped on a swimsuit for the day, taking the time to brush your skin with sunscreen and grabbing one of John B’s lightweight shirts to slip on over your shoulders. The boys were already down prepping the boards with Kiara as you and Sarah took the time to make breakfast for everyone, knowing food would easily be forgotten in the excitement of the day.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you guys are seriously surfing today?” Pope walked across the screened-in porch while shoving his backpack on his shoulders.

You frowned at the sight of him in everyday clothes and not swimwear, “And you aren’t?”

Ever since you were little, you’d spent every surf day with the boys and Kiara. It was like the second the news of a perfect swell hit town, all bets were off and the beach was calling your name. Pope was usually the one to drag you out of bed for it, so to see him walking away was a surprise.

“Well, I don’t want to sell the million dollars I have in my hand for 50k so, I’m gonna look into this.” He held up the amulet for emphasis.

JJ looked just as confused as you did. “Wait, Pope. Didn’t you hear me? It’s a perfect swell day.”

“Yeah, and there will be other swell days.”

Low whistles and ‘ooohs’ followed his statement, the group collectively disagreeing with his mindset. John B turned to Sarah from his spot where he was waxing your board. “You wanna maximize beach day?”

Sarah pursed her lips. “I wanna maximize this tan.”

You bit into your toast and pushed at her with your toes. “Sarah Cameron, I know you used to be a Kook but you’ll learn how to surf the Pogue way today.”

She rolled her eyes in fake annoyance before pushing at your foot, sending you off balance from your stool as you yelped before laughing. 

“Well, everyone have fun maximizing.” 

“Wait!” You called out to Pope as he turned on his heels to leave. “Where’s Cleo? I have to see her on a board. She’s gotta be insane with it.”

Pope shrugged, “She texted me, said she’s looking for bait in The Cut.”

“Lame, tell her we’re closed!” Kie argued back.

JJ continued to try and convince Pope to join you all on the beach, but the boy wasn’t having it, his mind stubborn on exploring more info on the amulet for the day. He informed you all he texted Cleo to meet up before hopping on his bike and disappearing from view. 

You weren’t sure how the boys managed to get all the boards on the Twinkie, or honestly, you didn’t want to know, but the second the sand was in between your toes, you didn’t have a care in the world. Surfing was always one of your favorite pastimes. The sunshine, the water, and the feeling of landing a good wave were so rewarding. 

John B had managed to find the group an open spot on the beach to set up chairs and the umbrella he almost took JJ’s eye out with. You took off in the sand and dove headfirst into the water, relishing in the refresh it gave you as the water crossed over. It had been so long since you had nothing to do besides lay in the salty water.

The peace didn’t last long, of course. Topper and his rowdy group pulled up in their newer vehicles, purposely parking close to your group as if it would make a point. You rolled your eyes at the sight of them, knowing this wouldn’t end well because it just never really did. 

JJ met you in the water with both of your boards in hand, but your focus wasn’t on him. It was on the group piling out of the cars which happened to include Rafe Cameron.  

“I won’t let anything happen,” JJ attempted to reassure you as he stopped to kiss your temple, sliding your board into your hands. You gave him a weak nod but didn’t move your gaze as you watched Topper move closer to your setup where he intercepted John B. 

Your hands moved to give JJ the board back as you walked out of the water to approach the two boys. You didn’t need John B doing anything irrational, especially if Topper pushed his buttons the way he normally did.

“Nice of you to join the party,” Topper acknowledged as you came to stand next to your brother with crossed arms. 

“Top.” You nodded in his direction, not backing down in your defensive approach.

Topper motioned toward John B, “I was just hashing things out, you know. Friendly banter to get things even.”

“Do you really think it’s even, Topper?” You asked him as the list began to run through your head. Every time you guys got the slight upper hand, the Kooks took you down two pegs.

Topper pursed his lips and looked away from you. “Uh, let’s go down the list. You guys sunk my boat.”

“Allegedly.”

“Then you cold-cocked me and put me in the ER, remember?” He looked at John B pointedly like it was the worst thing ever.

“You beat the shit out of Pope,” You reminded him. “Or, how about pushing John B off a two-story building, hmm?”

Topper rolled his eyes and pointed behind John B. “Look, I was with her first, bro. If your girl comes to me, if she can’t resist….” 

“Real mature of you, Topper. Oh, by the way, thanks for burning our house down,” John B replied, his fingers twitching to throw the first punch, but he wouldn’t with you standing next to him.

You sneered at Topper’s attitude and stepped forward to block John B in case the emotions got the best of either boy. “Just here to surf, Top. Unless you had more to say?”

Topper’s eyes glanced behind you before he cleared his throat and refocused with no further argument. “No, no. Just here to surf.”

You hummed in agreement as he turned to walk away, mumbling something about having a good chat. Waiting until he was far enough on his side, you shifted back around to see JJ standing a few feet behind you, glare sharp enough to kill the Kook. No wonder Topper about shit his pants.

“C’mon.” John B grabbed your hand, tugging you away from the scene. You didn’t miss the way Rafe stared at you the entire time despite the new brunette he seemed to have attached to his hip. It took one glance to know she wasn’t a Kook, especially with the obvious discomfort she held around the group. 

Pushing their presence to the back of your mind, you allowed John B and JJ to tug you out into the warm sea, Kiara and Sarah following behind the three of you as the waves started to kick up. It became a routine of swapping waves, dropping in amongst your friends’ cheers and applause. Even Sarah managed to grab a couple and remain on her feet for the course into shore, which had all of you celebrating.

Hours passed between the sun and waves before you flopped on a towel and treated yourself to a midday nap. Sarah had the right idea when she said she would maximize her tan, the warm rays lulling you to sleep before you knew it.

JJ pulled himself out of the water, brushing as much from his hair as possible so he didn’t look like a wet dog. He didn’t feel half bad dropping in on a wave that Topper supposedly thought he could claim. JJ laughed to himself; the damn Kook should know better than to try to out-surf a Pogue. 

His eyes caught sight of you sound asleep and cuddled up on the oversized towel you insisted on grabbing for yourself at the thrift store. It was rare nowadays for you to sleep without someone by your side, especially at night. There were too many times when you’d crash on the hammock before the group came in and you woke someone up with a heavy scream. 

In the years JJ had known you, he’d never considered you to be weak or broken. You’d always been an example of strength in his eyes, someone who could persevere even the toughest of challenges. He knew it took a little bit of support now and then, but you were healing, and he was so, so proud of you. You’d shared such vulnerable moments with him, and though he wished he could take the pain away, he knew it was a process. It took him longer than he’d like to admit to share about his dad with you, so he understood the hesitancy you had when it came to unpacking what occurred while John B was gone. 

Usually, when you caught sight of Rafe, you shut down completely. JJ didn’t pry to ask what all happened when you were stuck with him, trusting that in time you would open up and share when you were comfortable. He was grateful that you felt comfortable enough with them around to sleep even though the person who’d taken so much from you was so close by. 

“Guys, there’s a turtle hatch!”

Kiara’s excitement woke you up from the warmth of the sand, your eyes blinking in an attempt to adjust to the sunlight. You shifted to see where she was pointing, noticing the little movements of sand and the dark figures poking out. Pushing yourself to your feet, your friends scurried around to make a path in hopes of guiding the baby turtles safely toward the water.

You quickly tossed John B your towel to drag out the terrain evenly before taking a closer look at the small creatures, wishing you could pick one up but knowing better. “They’re so cute, what the fuck!”

“Make a turtle highway,” Sarah laughed beside you, the two of soaking up the once-in-a-lifetime event as Kie continued to build a path with the boys. Pulling out your phone, you snapped a few photos of the event, including one of Sarah pointing at the little turtles as they cruised by.

The sound of a revving engine pulled your attention away and toward where Topper’s supped-up Jeep was approaching. You frowned at the sight, not sure what his intentions were before you noticed Topper wasn’t even driving, Ruthie was.

“Hey!” Kiara stood up and waved her hands in the air, “Stop! There’s a hatch!”

“Topper, stop!” You yelled next, trying to point around the current path of the turtles who were moving as fast as their little bodies could take them. “Move!”

There was barely enough time for JJ and Kiara to throw themselves out of the way of the oncoming Jeep, thankfully missing the turtles and the near-death of the duo. You could hear Ruthie’s obnoxious laugh behind you as you faced the Kook group who apparently, found attempted murder funny.

“Hey!” You were shouting before you had a chance to think it through, feet stomping through the sand to carry you closer to where Kelce and his friends found it hysterical. “What the hell is wrong with you people?”

Kelce continued to laugh as Topper’s Jeep revved once more, coming to a stop next to you. “Maybe next time don’t drop in on our surf,” Kelce’s voice dropped deeper as he approached you, gaze darkening when he was eye to eye with you.

“Fuck you, Kelce. Whatever ego you all have that you think entitles you to run over baby turtles is sick,” You spat, pushing against his chest causing his friends to ‘ooh’ at your action. Not only did they almost ruin the hatch, but Kie and JJ were inches from getting run over because of their stupidity.

“Turtles?” A voice next to you stopped you from spitting another nasty curse at the group now that Topper and Ruthie had rejoined. You looked over to see the brunette girl looking back at you, her gaze familiar before you caught Rafe watching over her shoulder. “There were turtles?”

The heartbreak in her voice surprised you. You figured anyone following Rafe around would have the same cruel attitude he did, but the empathy you weren’t expecting. 

“Go back to The Cut,” Ruthie interrupted whatever explanation you were considering giving. 

You turned to glare at her, closing the distance between the two of you as you poked at her chest. “You have five seconds before JJ gets over here and loses his shit on all of you, so, I’d watch your words, Ruthie, before they bite you in the ass. You’re a pathetic excuse for a human, and I hope you’re fucking ashamed of your actions.”

The group clearly hadn’t expected you, of all people, to come mouth off about their actions. Silence filled the group, the girl in front of you at a loss of words that someone actually dared put her in her place. 

“Look, we didn’t mean to-“

“Shut the fuck up, Topper!” You snapped at him, sick of his attempts to appear innocent despite all the damage he caused. “What happened to just here to surf, huh? Or is attempted murder always in the back of your mind?”

“Hey watch it-“

“Fucking leave, Pogue!”

“Get the hell out of here!”

“Hey, hey! Enough!” It was Rafe who put himself between you and Ruthie’s incoming hands. You didn’t know whether to be grateful or terrified and took a step back, feet stumbling as you did so. You stared at him, horrified as his gaze met yours and stole all the air from your lungs. 

“Bitch can barely look him in the eye,” Ruthie laughed behind Rafe, but you made no move to correct her, terrified that even a breath in the wrong way would end your life. Rafe Cameron, of all people, to be the one to stop someone from harming you was a sick joke.

“Rafe?” The brunette girl next to him grabbed his arm, her eyes taking in your terrified expression. It was then that you recognized her. Sofia, the girl who you’d unfortunately come to know too well in the therapy sessions John B had forced you to attempt. The two of you had shared so much with each other but never once had you run into her since you stopped going months ago. She seemed to process who you were then too, a silent conversation running through her head as she mouthed your name. 

At that moment, someone ran up behind you, hands landing on your hips before you were moved into another set of arms. You caught sight of JJ stepping closer to Rafe, likely starting an argument that you could only hope didn’t end with a fight. 

“You’re okay, I’ve got ya.” John B turned you around to redirect your gaze, his arm wrapping around your shoulder as he started walking back toward the Twinkie. Everything turned to a haze, the adrenaline wearing off enough that you were heading into the inevitable anxiety attack. 

“If you come near her, or any one of us, ever again, I’ll come back and kill every single one of you.” JJ’s threat wasn’t a light one, and you were certain it would come back to bite him in the ass considering the Kooks would take it and run with it. 

Your heart was beating rapidly in your ears as John B pushed you into the passenger seat of the Twinkie, his hands grabbing both of your cheeks as you closed your eyes and tried to focus on your breath. Sarah’s grip on your hand was light as she climbed in the driver’s seat to sit on your other side. 

“What the hell was that?” Kiara’s shout echoed through the van, ringing in your ears and causing you to squeeze your eyes closed even harder. “What did you say to them?”

“Kie, shut up!” Sarah was yelling back at her, their voices blending together as you tucked your knees to your chest and curled into a ball. The shakiness was setting in and all you could do was beg your body to calm down and catch up to your actions.  

You forced your eyes to open, blinking as you managed to catch Sofia’s gaze across the sand. How you didn’t put the pieces together that’s who she was, you weren’t sure, but a pit grew in your stomach when you realized you’d spilled so much in those sessions that she was present for. Most, if not all of it, about Rafe. 

Air choked in your lungs, and aggressive coughs followed before JJ’s hand was against your chest to keep you upright. His fingers were gently against your jawline as he kept your head up in an attempt to help you breathe correctly.

“You’re alright, baby. Just keep breathing, yeah?”

John B had left your vision, same with Sarah, leaving you face to face with your boyfriend. He climbed over you to sit in the seat Sarah had once occupied and pulled your legs out to rest over his. The desire to curl up and cramp your muscles happened more than often and he’d picked up on that after a few anxiety attacks, recognizing your patterns and habits. 

JJ forced his hands in yours, keeping your fingers from stabbing your palms as you fought to take deep breaths, your body still on high alert even though your mind was coming back down. 

“There you go, good girl,” His encouragement made you smile slightly, knowing he was messing with you on purpose. Moving forward, you puddled into his lap without a word, and he welcomed you with open arms. Physical contact helped more in the recent moments, something you never expected considering you used to be so fearful of someone’s touch. 

JJ shuffled with you in his grasp, tugging the door closed to prevent unwelcome eyes from seeing you in such a vulnerable moment. John B was climbing in the driver seat shortly after, Sarah joining in the back before all doors were closed. Your breathing was slowing, muscles finding the forgiveness to loosen up on you but refused to move from JJ’s lap until your head was back in one piece.

“Kie?” You mumbled into his shoulder. The girl was clearly upset with you, but you didn’t have the capacity to question why.

“Walking,” John B replied simply as he started the old van. “Needs to clear her fuckin’ head.”

Sarah shushed him and you could hear her hand connect with his body gently, a grumbled protest coming from your brother in response. A comfortable silence filled the vehicle as John B drove away from the beach and started his course back home.

--

Exhaustion had set in on the drive, your body heavy in JJ’s hold as you listened to the occupants other than yourself share small chatter. Words weren’t enough to describe how grateful you were to your friends and brother for always supporting you no matter what. You knew it was a handful, hell, it wasn’t easy yourself, but the fact that they showed up time and time again said everything.

“Sorry about everything,” You apologized as John B parked the van in front of the house, ending your adventure for the day. “I’m trying to fix it and it just-”

“Hey,” Sarah interrupted your explanation as she popped her head over the seat. “No apologies. We’ve talked about that. Don’t apologize, ever.”

She left no room for argument and opened the back door to slide out. You looked at JJ and John B, both boys shrugged in agreement with her, making you roll your eyes. 

“Maybe we could rethink therapy?” John B suggested as he watched you rub your face to rid yourself of tear marks. You shook your head, giving no verbal answer.

Therapy had been shit for you. When you first came back from El Dorado, the hospital had taken one look at you, post-gunshot stitches, and deemed you unsound. You went with it for a while, going to the group sessions and spilling stories without any names. Then you realized how cruel people were when they started comparing trauma and you never went back again.

JJ’s grip loosened so you could climb out of the van, arm slinging over your shoulder to keep you close as he followed you. Sarah joined your side, pulling your hand in hers to swing back and forth as the four of you started heading toward the house where Pope had come out the side door.

“Yo!” JJ called in greeting. “What’d you find?”

Silence followed the question, shifting your attention to Pope instead of the ground. The shock on his face was evident and your gaze immediately dropped to the dark red smears on his shirt and hands. 

“Oh, shit.” Sarah was turning you into her instantly, both JJ and John B getting closer to Pope with an onslaught of questions. You kept your eyes on her, squeezing her hand tightly in attempt to keep your mind from getting involved.

“What happened?”

“Where’s Cleo?”

“She’s inside.” It was the only answer Pope had to give, and it sent JJ inside scrambling for the girl in question, fearing what he would find. John B grabbed ahold of Pope, steering him back to the house without any further questions before Sarah started to guide you along with the fresh blood out of view. 

Sarah looked at you expectantly as you made your way through the door into whatever chaos you’d subjected yourself to. The girl next to you stopped short and shifted your path into the kitchen, rerouting you from whatever she’d caught sight of before you could. JJ was already in there, pushing a water into your hand and lifting you onto the kitchen counter without another word.

To your relief, Cleo moved in shortly after, her expression stoic and unreadable before Sarah left your side and you could barely hear Kiara’s voice joining whatever conversation was happening a room over.

JJ placed his hands on each side of your body before kissing you softly, pulling your mind to him and only him. You hummed quietly, fingers tangling in his hair for a moment before he shifted away.

“Can you tell me?” You asked quietly, not wanted to push too far if Cleo was clearly so upset. 

He glanced at the girl behind you before answering, “Terrance’s body is in the other room.” 

JJ watched you as you processed the information, a million questions running through your mind that you couldn’t bring yourself to ask. Apparently, there was no time to, as JJ’s eyes caught on to something out the window behind you. A quick glance over your shoulder revealed the all too familiar Kildare County Sheriff’s Office truck, and your heart sank to your ass.

“J-“

“Upstairs,” He replied with no room for disagreement. “Our room or balcony, kay? I’ll send Sarah.”

You nodded, doing what he said without another question and bolted up the stairs with your heart pounding in your chest. Sarah’s footsteps were behind you moments later, the two of you finding sanctuary on the balcony outside your shared room with JJ. 

The sun was beginning to set and cast an orange lighting over the two of you as you piled into the hammock. Sarah leaned her head against yours just as another figure joined your group. Cleo fell on top of the two of you with a huff, both you and Sarah wrapping her up tightly into your cuddle puddle. 

And suddenly, all you could hear, was silence.

How the fuck did the cards fall this way every single time?

--

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[dumb-ster-fire]

Azriel x fem!reader - Just a dress

Summary: While shopping with Mor, Y/N is asked to model a beautiful wedding dress for a bridal shop in need of a last-minute replacement. She agrees, enjoying the fun of it—until Azriel, her mate, sees her. His shadows tighten, his gaze dark and intense. It’s just a dress… so why does it feel like something deeper?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N glanced at Mor, who was already grinning like she had won the lottery. “Oh, you have to do it,” Mor urged, practically bouncing on her heels.

The shop attendant clasped her hands together. “It’s a simple favor—just try on the dress, walk around a little, and in return, we’ll compensate you.” Her gaze swept over Y/N’s tall, elegant frame. “You’re perfect for it.”

Y/N tilted her head, considering. It did sound fun. And it wasn’t every day she got to play dress-up in a gown fit for royalty.

“Alright,” she said with a smirk. “Let’s do it.”

The attendant beamed and led them inside, where Y/N was soon whisked into a dressing room. The gown was decadent—intricate embroidery shimmering in the light, a full, sweeping skirt, and delicate lace detailing. When they placed the diadem on her head and finished her makeup, she barely recognized herself in the mirror. She looked… ethereal. Regal.

Mor’s gasp as she stepped out confirmed it. “Holy shit, Y/N.” Her eyes widened with something between awe and mischief. “Azriel is going to pass out when he sees you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the little flutter in her stomach at the thought.

She had agreed to walk around the boutique and outside for a bit, letting potential customers see the dress in motion. And of course, Mor was already plotting.

Y/N smirked. “Just don’t let Az see it.”

Mor’s wicked grin only widened. “Oh, no promises.”

Y/N gracefully walked alongside the shop representative as they guided her to the designated path where she’d be showcasing the dress. The streets of Velaris, always lively, now had curious onlookers pausing in their steps as she passed. Some whispered, some openly admired, and more than a few stopped in their tracks entirely.

Mor strolled beside her, looking far too pleased with herself, hands clasped behind her back like she was completely innocent.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, she had already reached out to Rhys through their mind link.

You need to get your asses down here. Now.

Rhys’s response was immediate. What did you do?

Mor barely contained her excitement as she side-eyed Y/N, who was completely unaware of the unfolding scheme. Not what I did. What Y/N did. She’s walking through Velaris in a wedding dress.

There was a moment of stunned silence before multiple voices chimed in at once.

Cassian: YOU’RE JOKING. WE’RE ON OUR WAY.

Rhysand: This I have to see.

Amren: Hah. Poor Azriel.

Azriel: …What?

Mor grinned but kept her expression neutral as she turned to Y/N, who was still elegantly making her way through the street, oblivious to the storm about to descend.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

Y/N, completely unaware of the chaos she’d just unleashed, continued walking with effortless grace, the luxurious wedding gown flowing around her like stardust. The diadem atop her head caught the light, making her look every bit the ethereal, untouchable bride. People on the street kept stopping to watch, whispering amongst themselves. Some even clapped in admiration.

Mor, biting her lip to keep from outright laughing, linked arms with her as they neared the end of the walk. “You know, you look obscenely good in that dress.”

Y/N smirked. “Of course I do.” Then, with mock seriousness, “It’s a shame no one I know is here to see it.”

Mor nearly snorted. If only Y/N knew.

Because right at that moment, Cassian, Rhys, Amren, and—most importantly—Azriel appeared at the edge of the street, blending into the crowd.

Rhys, hands in his pockets, took one look at Y/N and let out a low whistle. Damn.

Cassian, on the other hand, was losing his mind. “OH. MY. GODS.” He practically bounced on his feet. “I knew this was gonna be good, but this—this is better than I ever could have imagined.”

Amren crossed her arms, eyes flicking between Azriel and Y/N with amusement. “He’s going to combust.”

And Azriel—Azriel was frozen.

The moment his eyes landed on Y/N, everything else blurred into insignificance. The gown, the diadem, the way she moved with such natural confidence—it was lethal. She was breathtaking on any given day, but like this? Like this?

It took everything in him to school his expression, to keep himself from storming over, yanking her against him, and demanding when exactly she was planning to tell him she looked like that in a wedding dress.

Mor, watching all of this unfold, casually said through the mind link, Enjoying the view, Az?

His shadows curled tighter around him. You knew about this.

Obviously.

Cassian, watching Azriel’s battle for control, leaned over and whispered, “So, when’s the wedding?”

Azriel shot him a look so sharp it could have gutted a man. Cassian only grinned wider.

And then—Y/N finally noticed them.

Y/N, still blissfully unaware, turned her head slightly, about to make some offhand comment to Mor—when she spotted them.

Her steps faltered for a split second as her pale green eyes locked onto the group of familiar faces. And then—she saw him.

Azriel stood slightly apart from the others, his wings half-flared, shadows coiling around him in a way that told her everything. His expression was unreadable, but the intensity in his hazel eyes burned hotter than the sun.

“Oh, fuck,” Y/N muttered under her breath.

Mor cackled.

Cassian was barely holding in his laughter, whispering something to Rhys, who was just standing there, smug as all hell. Amren, as usual, looked more entertained than anything.

And Azriel?

He stalked toward her.

Y/N straightened automatically, an instinctive reaction to the sheer force of his gaze. As he closed the distance, she could practically feel the possessiveness rolling off him in waves, feel the weight of it in the way his jaw clenched, in the way his shadows swirled around his boots like they, too, were ready to drag her close and never let go.

She tilted her head, offering a smirk despite the sudden racing of her heart. “Well, hello there, shadowsinger.”

Azriel stopped right in front of her, his gaze sweeping over everything—the gown, the diadem, the way the silk hugged her curves just right.

“You didn’t think to mention this?” His voice was low, edged with something dark, something claiming.

Y/N’s smirk widened. “I didn’t think I needed to.”

Azriel let out a slow breath, his wings twitching slightly before he reached out, fingers brushing along the delicate embroidery on her sleeve. His touch was light, reverent—dangerous.

“This,” he murmured, eyes flicking up to hers, “is unfair.”

Y/N hummed, enjoying the heat in his gaze far too much. “Oh? Why’s that?”

Azriel’s lips parted like he was about to answer, but Cassian—because of course he did—ruined the moment.

“So,” the general called, grinning like a madman, “should we just start planning the wedding now or—”

Y/N turned sharply. “Cassian.”

Cassian held up his hands. “I’m just saying! You’re already in the dress—”

“I will fight you.”

“I’d like to see you try in that gown.”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, you absolute menace—”

But before she could launch herself at him—before she could even move—Azriel’s hand curled around her wrist, tugging her back toward him, his chest brushing against hers.

“You do look stunning,” he murmured, quiet enough that only she could hear.

Y/N blinked up at him, momentarily thrown off by the softness in his voice, by the intensity in his eyes.

Her breath hitched.

For once, she didn’t have a clever response.

Azriel’s fingers skimmed up her arm, a featherlight touch that sent a shiver through her. His eyes were still locked onto hers, intense, unreadable, drinking her in like she was something rare, something his.

Y/N swallowed. “You—” She cleared her throat, grasping for something smug to say, something to lighten the heat pooling in her stomach. “You keep looking at me like that, and I might think you’re planning something.”

Azriel’s lips barely twitched, his only response a slow, deliberate glance down the length of her. “I’m definitely planning something.”

Mother above.

Mor, meanwhile, was enjoying this way too much. “I have never seen you look so—” she wiggled her fingers dramatically in Azriel’s direction “—feral.”

Azriel didn’t even acknowledge her.

Rhys was still grinning, arms crossed, looking like he was storing this entire moment away for blackmail later. “I have to say, I didn’t expect this today.”

Y/N scoffed. “Neither did I, to be fair.” She gestured to the decadent gown. “It was supposed to be fun, not—” She flicked her eyes back to Azriel, whose expression hadn’t softened in the slightest. “—whatever this is.”

“This,” Azriel echoed, voice quieter now, though no less intense.

Y/N arched a brow. “You don’t like it?”

Azriel huffed a breath, stepping even closer, until she could feel his warmth, until his wings partially wrapped behind her like he was shielding her from everyone. His fingers skimmed the side of her waist, grazing the delicate fabric.

“I love it,” he admitted, so quiet only she could hear. “And I hate that everyone else can see you in it.”

Oh.

Y/N’s breath caught.

Azriel’s lips tilted up slightly. “You knew this would drive me insane.”

She grinned, regaining some of her composure. “Did I?”

His fingers flexed on her waist. “You did.”

Cassian clapped his hands. “Alright, lovebirds, before you two start making out in the middle of the street—”

Y/N threw him a glare, but he only smirked.

Amren, ever the voice of reason, just sighed. “Can we go now?”

Y/N huffed, shooting one last glance at Azriel before stepping back. He let her go—reluctantly—but his shadows still curled around her ankle as if refusing to let her slip too far away.

She smirked. “If you behave, shadowsinger, maybe I’ll wear this just for you later.”

Azriel’s jaw tightened.

Cassian whistled.

Mor lost it.

And as Y/N strode past them, chin held high, she could feel Azriel’s eyes still burning into her, still tracking her every movement, still plotting ways to make her pay for this little tease.

Maybe I should keep the dress.

Y/N felt the weight of Azriel’s gaze long after she had passed him, heat crawling up her spine as she tried—tried—to keep her composure. The gown, the diadem, the makeup… it was all just supposed to be fun, something ridiculous and lighthearted. But now?

Now she was very aware of the fact that she had just paraded down the street looking like a bride, while her mate—her dangerously possessive mate—stood there looking like he was barely restraining himself from throwing her over his shoulder and flying them straight home.

Mor, still at her side, was cackling. “You’re evil for that.”

Y/N grinned. “I know.”

Cassian strolled up beside them, shaking his head. “You do realize you just gave him about a hundred new fantasies, right?”

Y/N snorted. “As if he didn’t already have them.”

Mor hummed. “True, but now? Now it’s personal.”

A shiver trailed down her spine, but before she could hink too much about it, the bridal shop representative rushed over, delighted by all the attention Y/N had drawn. “Oh, this was perfect!” The woman beamed. “You looked exquisite—so poised, so regal. And your mate—Mother above, his reaction was exactly the kind of passion we want associated with our dresses.”

Y/N barely held in a laugh. If only they knew.

The woman clapped her hands. “Would you consider modeling for us again in the future?”

Mor lost it, clutching her stomach as she doubled over in laughter.

Y/N smirked. “I’ll… think about it.”

She could feel Azriel’s shadows still lingering near her, like they refused to let her out of their sight. Good. Let him suffer a bit.

Still, as she walked back to the shop to change, she sent a whisper through the bond.

Did you enjoy the show, shadowsinger?

A pause. Then, a voice like a dark promise.

You’ll pay for that, starlight.

Y/N’s stomach flipped.

Maybe she would keep the dress.

Y/N grinned wickedly as she stepped back into the bridal shop, Mor still laughing beside her. The moment the door shut behind them, she pressed a hand to her chest, her heart hammering as Azriel’s words lingered in her mind. You’ll pay for that, starlight.

Oh, she knew that tone.

And she absolutely planned to drag it out for as long as possible.

“Did you see his face?” Mor wheezed, wiping at her eyes. “Y/N, I swear to the Mother, I have never seen him like that before. He looked like he was this close to starting a public riot.”

Y/N smirked. “I was hoping for a reaction.” She turned, admiring herself in the massive mirror. “Didn’t expect to look this good, though.”

The gown was decadent—pure white with intricate silver embroidery that shimmered under the light. It clung to her curves, cascading in elegant folds, and the diadem in her long hair only added to the illusion of royalty. She looked like she belonged in an ancient, otherworldly court, a queen stepping out of legend.

And Azriel had seen it.

Y/N felt the heat of his gaze even now, the intensity that had burned through the crowd. Her smirk deepened.

Mor nudged her. “You have to keep this dress. I mean, come on. You look like some celestial queen.”

Y/N hummed. “You just want to see Azriel suffer more.”

“Absolutely.” Mor grinned. “And so do you.”

She didn’t even bother denying it.

After a few more minutes, Y/N reluctantly stepped back into the dressing room to change. The moment she pulled the heavy gown off, she exhaled, shaking her head at herself. She had just been playing along with the whole thing, but now, a deeper thought crept in.

Marriage.

She and Azriel hadn’t talked about it, not really. But standing out there, with the entire Inner Circle watching, with him watching, the thought had settled in a way it hadn’t before.

Would she marry him?

The answer struck her as effortlessly as breathing. Of course. She was his, just as he was hers. There was no question about it.

But still, the idea of it—the reality of a ceremony, of wearing a dress like this with intention—sent an unfamiliar feeling curling in her chest.

Excitement.

A little bit of fear.

And a lot of amusement, because she knew Azriel was still reeling.

By the time she stepped out in her normal clothes again, Mor had already sent another message through the bond link. Y/N raised a brow.

Mor just winked. “You’ll see.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but when they finally stepped out of the shop, she did see.

Or rather—she felt it.

Azriel.

Leaning against the wall just outside, shadows curling around his frame, golden skin taut with restrained tension. His hazel eyes—burning—traced over her, head to toe, like he was still seeing her in that gown.

Y/N’s breath caught, but she smirked. “Came to pick me up, shadowsinger?”

His voice was dark silk. “Had to make sure you weren’t planning to run off and get married without me.”

Y/N let out a soft laugh, stepping close, just enough to taunt him with her presence. “Now, where’s the fun in that?”

Azriel’s eyes flickered with something dangerous. He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear as he murmured,

“You will pay for that, starlight.”

Y/N’s stomach flipped. Again.

Mor stifled a laugh behind them.

Y/N just tilted her chin up, meeting his smoldering gaze with a challenge. “Looking forward to it.”

[inupibaldspot]

Film through Shoko’s Lens

Pairing : Gojo Satoru x Reader

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : You’re looking through Shoko’s perspective:) clumsy!reader

Shoko grumbles as rubbles and specks of dust fly over, a tornado forming as a foreign force destroys the house. “He is going too far again…”

“I mean… He is a show off.” Geto, who had a smile on his face, hand shading his eyes which were squinted. The debris finally stopped flying and was now settling down. “I guess he is done. Let’s go.”

Shoko walks over to see Gojo peer over the ledge as the first thing he decided to do was squabble with Utahime, she could also see Mei Mei sitting on amongst the rubble. Mission complete.

She suddenly feels a force as she peers over to see you hold her hand, fingers intertwining and a wide smile on your face. Shoko smiles back as guides you near the rubble. “Utahime— you okay?”

“Shoko—!”Utahime gleamed at the fact her friend was also on this mission as she ran up the stairs and then pulled her into an embrace. “Never become like these two.”

Shoko could almost hurl imagining to be as egotistical and shameless as her two mentioned friends. “I won’t become scums like them.” Her eyes wander to you where Gojo was now standing next to.

She watches you saying something which makes Gojo grumble and him proceeding to pull on your cheeks as you complain.Utahime and Meimei had already left the vicinity now probably headed back to Jujutsu Tech. “You guys can go ahead. I need to do some shopping in town.” Shoko says.

Geto turns around and looks over to Shoko. “Oh alright.” She hears footsteps come closer to her. “I’ll come with you, Shoko—woah-” You smile at her while walking towards her , before almost tripping over nothing as if you have two left feet.

“Holy shit.” Shoko hears Gojo shouts before he is quickly beside you, propping you up straight in the air with his hands on your collar. “I’ll come along too then. y/n might get into an accident.”

Shoko shrugs. “Ehh—? Stop being so clingy Gojo.It’s pathetic.” She says as she takes a cigarette piece from her pocket, while Geto throws her his lighter. “I can take care of y/n just fine.”

You jump in, one hand in the air, made into a fist; the other hand on your hips. “I can take care of myself just fine!” You chirped.

“The fuck you mean, Shoko?” Gojo shouts back while Shoko huffs, lighting her cigarette both completely ignoring your earlier statement. You were incompetent in taking care of yourself! “The last time I let her out with you, she roamed around the park alone and got lost!”

“I needed to go pee. What was I supposed to do?!”

“They completely ignored me, Geto…” You cry as you hold onto the tall dark haired boy’s shirt comically making him laugh. Geto brings his hands up to your head as he tousles your hair.

He turns to the side to find Gojo fuming, stomping his legs on the ground while Shoko smokes, completely ignoring the other boy. “It was kinda funny how they make you seem like a kid who can’t go unsupervised.”

“Argh— Come on let’s go.” Shoko watches Gojo walk over and grabs your hand making you give him a confused look. The white haired boy doesn’t say anything, his hands feel as if they are burning and his heart seems to accelerate at an inhuman pace. He grumbled something Shoko could not hear before she watched you smile at him.

Shoko puts down the cigarette bud on the ground and stomp it under her feet before she follows the bunch. She noticed Gojo dig out a packet of gummy bears from his pocket and wave it infront of your face.

You gleam with excitement as you jump clapping your hands together as you wait for Gojo to open the packet of sweets. Gojo smiles before he brings it up to himself to feed you the sweets, and if Shoko was seeing it right she swears she sees your cheeks bloomed with the faintest shade of red, making Gojo take a step back with mouth slightly agape. How cute!

“Satoru, don’t feed y/n too much. She has been having dental problems.” Shoko hears Geto say, making her look in your direction; there was Gojo his head placed on top of your head nuzzling into you with his arms slinging from your shoulders cooing ‘how adorable you are.’

While you were there with your face grouchy over Gojo’s weight on you and your cheeks filled to the brim as if resembling a chipmunk. This made Shoko let out a quiet laugh as warmth spewed into her heart.

She is sure in due time, Gojo will finally win you over and are sure to date; if there is any indicator last night she found you both snuggled together under a blanket on the sofa of the common room, you asleep leaning into Gojo while he plays with your finger, face full of fondness.

Geto will become stronger with well deserved respect. She will also graduate and quickly become a doctor. When she is done, maybe Gojo and you will probably be living together somewhere with fingers intertwined yet— She doesn’t want this moment to end, a moment with all four of them as she then brings her phone up to her three friends already squabbling about something followed by a thud of you falling on the ground and Geto and Gojo shouting ‘y/n—! She passed out!’ and ‘call an ambulance!’

*click*

Reblogs, like and comment are appreciated! Love this work? Check out other here (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ) ♡

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Death's Doorstep

Fandom: Star Wars - The Acolyte

Pairing: Qimir x GN!Reader

Summary: Qimir shows up at your store a lot sooner than expected, but this time he's injured and you have to bring him back to health.

The Stranger in My Doorway | Strangers No More

Did you want to see Qimir again? Yes. But did you want it under these circumstances? Absolutely not.

It was nightfall and you were working on a special order for one of your clients. You heard commotion outside towards the Jedi temple that was here on Batuu. You peer out your window to see the colors of lightsabers reflecting off buildings as Jedi run by, shouting words you can't quite hear.

You jolt when you hear a banging on your door. You wait to see if the person would go away, considering your shop was closed for the night. The insistent banging continued and you quickly typed in the code to unlock the door. It slides open to reveal Mae holding up Qimir.

"What hap-"

"No time!" the young woman hisses as she pushes past you, dragging Qimir with her, "Is there a place for us to hide?"

You look at her and then look at Qimir, who's holding his side. You see blood seeping through his fingers, "I, uh,"

"Hurry!"

You rush over to the storage room and push a shelf to the side. You life the grate and gesture to Mae, "This is the best I can do."

"Qimir?" Mae asks and the man nods, "Fine."

Mae jumps in first, completely ignoring the ladder that's there. She then carefully watches as Qimir lowers himself in.

With tired eyes, he looks up at you and gives a shy smile, "Thanks."

"Of course," you say as he lands with a grunt. You do quick work to replace the grate and push the shelf back to it's place where it completely covers the hiding spot.

Just in time, there comes a knocking at your door. You run over to let in whoever is there. A tall Twi'lek woman donning a Jedi robe steps in with two Jedi following her, "I'm sorry to disturb you, Y/N."

You step aside to let the woman through, "Not at all, Rya. Is something wrong?"

"There was an intrusion at the Temple."

Your brows raise in surprise, "Is that what the commotion I heard was about?"

The Jedi nods, "Yes. Did you see or hear anything suspicious? I was told the suspects were around here."

You shake your head, "I didn't see anything. All I saw were a few Jedis running by but nothing else. Did these people steal something?"

"Yes. Some important files. They also injured a few Jedi."

You gulp, "Holy kriff. Well, if I see or hear anything, I'll let you know."

Rya looks around your shop and then back at you. She gives you a polite smile, "Thank you, Y/N." she exits your shop with the other two Jedi behind her.

After your doors shut, you immediately put in the code to lock it. You let out a deep breath and rush back to your storage room.

You grunt as you push the shelf back and pull up the grate, "Is he okay?"

"He's lost a lot of blood," Mae says as she guides her colleague to the base of the ladder.

You look down at him with concern, "Can you climb?"

He slowly nods and takes one step at a time, wincing and grunting in pain. Eventually, he's out and collapses in your arms with a groan.

"Hey, hey, stay with me, Qimir. It's gonna be okay. I'm going to help you."

You look at Mae who swiftly climbs out of the hole, "We need to take him upstairs." Mae doesn't ask any questions as she helps Qimir to his feet. You're on his right and she on his left. You both head to stairs leading up to your home above the shop. With each step, it's seems Qimir gets paler and paler.

"Almost there, Qimir."

You lead him to your room and gently lower him onto your bed, "I need to assess the wound. You push his hand away and observe the gash on his side.

"What sliced him?"

"This," Mae holds up one of her daggers, "I was aiming for a Jedi. He got in my way."

You sigh, "I'm going to run back downstairs to grab some things. Make sure he stays awake!"

You exit the room with haste, nearly tripping over your feet as you head back to the shop. You grab various bottles and vials, and rush back upstairs, taking two steps at a time.

You kneel at the bedside, and pulling up Qimir's shirt to get better access to his wound. He winces as part of the fabric brushes against his wound and you quietly apologize.

"This will sting a bit," you say as you take a bottle out, spraying some of the liquid directly onto the wound.

Qimir yells out in pain and you use your other hand to cover his mouth, "I know! I'm sorry, but you have to be quiet! I just applied a numb spray so you shouldn't be able to feel a thing now."

You pull your hand away and Qimir continues to breathe deeply, "Can I continue?" He nods and you get back to work.

You swiftly head to your work desk, grabbing a needle and thread. You kneel back beside Qimir and thread the string through the needle, "Okay, I'm going to sew your wound, okay? If it still hurts, let me know and I can use more numb spray."

Qimir nods and waits. You tell him you're going to start and proceed to push the needle through his skin. He winces when he feels the slight pinch.

"Do you want more numb spray?" you ask with concern and he shakes his head, "No. Keep going."

You do so, trying to be quick yet efficient as you sew up his wound. It's not the best, of work, but it gets the job done. Afterwards, you apply an antibiotic balm and cover the entire wound with a batca patch.

You lean back against your heals with a sigh, "Done."

You look up to see Qimir alseep.

"Thank you," Mae says and you completely forgot she was there.

You look up at her and reply, "Of course." You gather up everything and place them onto your work desk, "You two are spending the rest of the night here. I want to make sure he feels alright before you leave and there's a chance the Jedi are still out looking for you."

Mae looks up at you in suspicion, "How do you-"

"One of the Jedis, Rya, came by. She said there were people who broke into the Temple, stole some things, and hurt some people."

"And you didn't tell them we were here?"

You shake your head, "I didn't."

"Why? You know what we did. You know that we've done some bad things. Why didn't you turn us in?" Mae looks at you curiously.

"I don't know," you respond in sincerity, "There's something about you two, I don't know what. But I wanted to help you."

Satisfied with your answer for now, Mae leaves you alone. She plops onto one of your chairs in your living room and curls up into her cloak.

You walk back to your room to check on Qimir, who is still fast asleep. You decide to sit beside him, back up against your headboard. If you're there beside him, you'll know when he wakes and you can check on how he feels.

You suddenly feel exhausted from the events that had just occurred, so you do your best to get comfortable and allow yourself some rest.

[sturnmeovr]

♡‧₊˚ Babydaddy!Chris x Sweetheart!Reader

You and Chris were lying in bed, limbs tangled together as he repeatedly smooths a hand through your hair. Most of your days had been lazy the last couple weeks due to your morning sickness, but today your baby actually let you be productive, not giving you as much of a hard time as normal.

You and Chris spent the day online shopping, purchasing a few essentials since you still felt iffy about going in public. Nobody except immediate family and close friends knew you and Chris were expecting. After breaking the news to his brothers, he immediately facetimed his parents and close friends, holding up a sonogram to show them. Of course, most of the reactions were pure shock. He made every single person promise to not tell a soul before he ended the call, even his parents. 

Your head rested on Chris’s chest, raising and falling with each one of his breaths. An Adam Sandler movie played across the tv screen as Chris traces a finger around your belly button over and over again. The last few weeks you could feel slight movements, hinting that your baby was growing fast. A sigh escapes your lips, taking in the relaxing moment until a swift, sharp movement presses on your abdomen. You jolt at the unfamiliar feeling, letting a gasp roll off your lips as you sit up. Your actions make Chris sit up in hurry, “what? What is it?” he extends a hand out, placing it over your belly.

“I think he kicked!” you exclaimed, smoothing a hand over your stomach, poking it a few times to see if the baby would kick again. 

“Are you serious?” Chris knots a hand in his hair while looking down at your small bump. He chews at his bottom lip out of nervousness as he studies your belly for any time of sudden movement. You let out a snort, “here,” grabbing his hand and guiding it to your bump, “I think Bean felt your hand.” His body tenses up and he holds his breath, acting as if your stomach was a bomb waiting to explode. Running a hand up his arm in an attempt to relax him, his eyes flicker to yours, letting a tight lipped smile pull at his lips.

A few seconds later the same unfamiliar feeling pokes at the middle of your belly, right underneath Chris’s hand. A gasp erupts from his chest, “holy shit! Did you feel that? He just kicked the shit out of me!” His words were laced with excitement like he was a kid in a candy shop. He lets out a laugh as the baby kicks his hand a few more times, making you quickly join in. At that moment he felt more serotonin than he ever had. The small butterfly-like kicks, only separated by the layers of your skin, lightly thumping against his hand. It made him like he was meeting his child for the first time. His heart pounding heavily in his chest just like it did when he first met you - like it did when he found out you were pregnant. Chris was over the moon, everything started to feel real for him the moment he felt his baby introduced themself for the first time. All he knew was these next few months needed to fly back, he couldn’t wait to meet his baby in the flesh and neither could you.

wc - 574??

an - This is my first blurb so be careful with me 😭 Serving more babydaddy!Chris content is my mission 🫡 Also I hit 300 followers last night tysm! 🥹🫶🏻

Posting before work because why not lmaoo

Dividers & photo edits by me. Feel free to use.

Babydaddy!Chris Masterlist

Tags - @lvrsturniolo @ribread03 @unknvhx @m11rx @emely9274 @loveparqdise @sweetshuga @frickin-bats @katie-tibo @leila-marie4 @delusional-4-fake-people

© All Rights Reserved to m00nl1ghts1vt. Please do not copy my work.

[crushpunky]

when rafe picked up kook!reader for midsummers (midsummers part two)

Reader took a deep breath and looked at the clock again.

6:56

Rafe was going to be here soon to whisk her away to what he had deemed his “Best Midsummer Date Celebration Extravaganza”. He had been hyping himself up for the past week, bragging about how much he had spent on his tux, the dance lesson Rose had convinced (more like forced) him to take, and all of the time he spent cleaning his best dress shoes. She laughed to herself, picturing Rafe practicing his waltz steps in his sparkly shoes.

As she made her way downstairs she checked her phone to see if Rafe had texted. She hadn’t seen him at all the past two days, which was unusual for the pair. They had planned on meeting up but Rafe called her at the last minute saying he must’ve gotten food poisoning from the night before and couldn’t stop throwing up. Despite ordering the same thing as him (as she had for years), Reader felt perfectly fine. She didn’t bother to question it because, as often as Rafe got drunk and partied, he was never one to actually get sick. Luckily, by yesterday evening, he had texted her saying he was still on for Midsummers. 

The doorbell rang as Reader quickly went to answer the door. She had assumed it was one of the neighbors, as Rafe was a lot of things but early was never one of them. However, to her surprise, she opened the front door to the powder blue suit and flushed face of Rafe Cameron. They both locked eyes for a second before looking down at the other's outfit and meeting eyes again.

“Holy shit.” Rafe said, dropping his arm that held a gorgeous bouquet of flowers to his side. Reader felt her cheeks warm as she let out a bashful giggle. She had seen Rafe in a suit a million times, and he looked great every time. This time was different. This time he was picking her up and taking her out on a date. Not “as a date”, but “on a date”.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Cameron.” Reader laughed as Rafe’s eyes continued to look over her dress. Rafe was never shy about his affections, but something about seeing him speechless at the sight of her felt even better than any compliment he could give.

“The um— the blue looks very good…” Rafe stammered. “You look very good.”

“Thank you.” Reader said quietly, still feeling a bit overwhelmed by his reaction. Rafe blinked quickly before pulling the flowers back to his chest.

“Here,” Rafe handed the beautiful bouquet to Reader. “I got them from that shop downtown you like… Wheezy helped me pick them out.”

Reader smiled at the thought of Wheezy directing the tall boy through the flower shop, throwing bunches of flowers into his arms. She had done a great job though; lavender and baby's breath spun with beautiful, soft-hued blue lilies all wrapped together with a dainty baby-blue ribbon.

“Well you did a great job. Or Wheezy did at least.” Reader teased, turning to put the flowers into one of the empty vases that sat near the entryway.

“I told you I’d give you the best night of your life.” Rafe said with a shrug before offering out his arm to her.

“Well it’s off to a great start.” Reader grinned, hooking her arm into his. She looked over at Rafe’s silhouette against the setting sun, soaking in this moment and his sharp features as he led her to his car. Once they got to the passenger side, Rafe opened the door and guided her into her seat. She grinned as he closed the door gently before rushing around to the driver's side.

As she soothed her dress down she caught a glimpse of something on the dash: a white, powdery residue. Her heart dropped. Rafe had come to the door flushed, was he using again? She had sworn she hadn’t seen him high since he asked her to Midsummers… or had she? Maybe he was just getting better at hiding it. It wouldn’t be the first time she had caught him when he said he was clean…

“You ready to go, m’lady?” Rafe grinned, putting the keys into the ignition. Reader however, did not match his excitement.

“Rafe.” Reader said calmly, nearly a whisper.

“What? Are you okay? Did I forget something I can—”

“Are you high right now?” Reader said sharply.

“What?” Rafe scoffed.

“I said, are you fucking high right now?” Reader repeated firmly, turning towards Rafe. He scowled, putting the car into reverse.

“Jesus, I’m not fucking high right now. I would never drive high with you in the car, a’ight?” Rafe shook his head as they left the driveway and started towards the country club.

“Then what’s this shit on the dash, Rafe?” Reader said, trying her best to not allow the tears in her eyes to fall. She knew he was an addict but he had promised her tonight. Promised. Promises were so sacred between them, how could he?

“It’s—” Rafe sighed. “Alright fine, it’s coke. But it’s not mine. It’s Top’s. From this morning. I swear.”

“Do you seriously expect me to—” Reader scoffed.

“Yes! I expect you to believe me because I’ve been fucking clean for an entire week for you!” Rafe shouted. An entire week? For her? Sure.

“I would rather you just tell me if you’re fucking high. You know I hate it when you lie to me.” Reader said sharply. Rafe slammed on the breaks before pulling off to the side quickly.

“I’m not lying.” Rafe whispered, his hands still clenched on the wheel despite his soft tone. “I told you— I promised you— tonight and I’m going to fucking deliver. Ok? I’m not gonna fuck this up for you. I… I couldn’t forgive myself if I did.”

Reader sat there in silence, looking over at Rafe. His blue eyes looked at her sincerely, no sign of any dilated pupils or hazy glare despite what the powder covered surface might imply. He was right, he had promised her, and by the look on his face, she could tell he was struggling.

It all started to fall into line: his sluggishness the past week, his flushed appearance, and his “food poisoning”. He was in withdrawal.

“It wasn’t food poisoning you had, was it?” Reader said with an exhale.

“No. It wasn’t.” Rafe said quietly. Reader reached across the center console to take one of Rafe’s hands into her own. He could feel himself relax under her touch.

“I… I’m sorry, Rafe. I should’ve seen how hard you were trying, I was just being ungrateful and thought this was too perfect and—” Reader rambled, shaking her head.

“No, no, no.” Rafe said, reaching his hands up to cup the sides of Reader’s face, looking directly into her eyes with his own.

“You were right to… doubt me. It wouldn’t be the first time I lied about being clean.” Rafe whispered, running his fingers along her skin slowly as he spoke. In that moment, in his touch, she could feel the Rafe she remembered as a young boy. The Rafe who treated her like she was the best thing in the whole entire world. The Rafe who made her laugh more than he made her cry. The Rafe she had fallen in love with.

“Thank you, Rafe.” Reader said, taking his hands back from her face and holding them gently in her lap.

“You know I would try anything for you.” Rafe said, giving her hands a light squeeze. She could feel her heart swell at his words. He was right. He wasn’t perfect, but he would try to be. For her.

“Well…” Rafe broke the silence, placing one of his hands back onto the steering wheel, keeping the other grasped onto hers. “We should probably get going. We’re already about twenty minutes late.”

“Rafe Cameron! I knew you being early was too good to be true!” Reader teased, causing Rafe to flash her one of his signature grins before peeling back onto the road to the country club.

[bloomzone]

WHAT IS WONYOUNGISM ? : THE.ALL.U.NEED GUIDE

A lot of u guys keep asking me who is wonyoung what is wonyoungism .. today is the day to introduce WONYOUNG and WONYOUNGISM for the ppl who don't know .. !

[wonyoung famous video cuz I know u seen her before ]

[they are with English sub dw]

- I got to learn wonyoung mindset so lucky Vicky

- the idc you are you I'm me famous video

- the wow video

-where the lucky Vicky mindset come from ?

Who is Wonyoung?

Jang Wonyoung is a South Korean idol, best known as a member of IVE and formerly of IZ*ONE. She’s the "it-girl" of K-pop—graceful, confident, and effortlessly stylish. With her tall figure, radiant smile, and elegant demeanor, she’s become the embodiment of modern femininity and charm. But beyond the flawless visuals and stage presence, Wonyoung represents someone who’s confident, hardworking, and completely at ease with herself.

Wonyoung isn’t just a person she’s a vibe (I can't describe my luv for her JASJDJDJEID) . And that’s where Wonyoungism comes in reminder Wonyoungism wasn’t created by Wonyoung herself—it was born from her fans. As Wonyoung’s popularity soared, fans noticed her unique vibe: the way she carried herself, her graceful demeanor, and her ability to make everyday moments feel magical. They coined the term Wonyoungism to describe the lifestyle and mindset inspired by her.

It’s not just about her visuals or talent, but the aura she radiates:

-Effortless elegance

-Positive energy

-Main-character confidence

Social media communities, especially on TikTok, and Pinterest, played a huge role in spreading the concept. Fans started sharing aesthetic edits, tips, and guides on how to embody Wonyoung’s mindset and style in daily life. It became more than just admiration—it was a movement that encouraged self-care, confidence, and romanticizing life.

What is Wonyoungism?

🎀.Wonyoungism isn’t just about looking pretty or copying her. It’s about adopting a mindset that prioritizes self-care, confidence, grace, and a bit of playful charm. It’s about becoming your best self—not by being perfect but by embracing who you are and leveling up in the process. Think of it as the art of living with elegance, positivity, and a touch of main-character energy.

✒️.In short: it’s giving “unbothered but kind,” “confident but humble,” and “I’m glowing because I take care of myself.”

How to Achieve Wonyoungism

It’s not rocket science, but it does require some effort. Let’s break it down:

1. Master the Art of Self-Care

Wonyoung’s glow? It starts from within.

🎀.Skincare: Keep it simple but effective. Cleansing, hydrating, and sunscreen are your holy trinity. Wonyoung doesn’t just wear makeup; she takes care of the canvas beneath it.

🎀.Healthy Lifestyle: Drink your water, eat your greens, and move your body. No crash diets—just balance. Think of food as fuel, not the enemy.

🎀.Mental Health: Rest is just as important as work. Sleep well, meditate, or journal when life feels overwhelming.

2. Elevate Your Aesthetic

You don’t need to spend a fortune to look polished.

✒️.Fashion: Wonyoung leans into chic yet playful styles. Flowing skirts, pastels, and tailored fits. Shop your closet and mix basics with statement pieces.

✒️.Makeup: Less is more. Go for a soft, natural look—think dewy skin, rosy cheeks, and glossy lips.

✒️.Posture: Straighten up girl ! Confidence shows in how you carry yourself. Walk like you’re on a runway (but in your head, of course).

3. Exude Confidence Without Arrogance

✒️.Confidence is Wonyoung’s secret weapon. But it’s not about being loud—it’s about being sure of yourself. She is the (I don't care you are you I'm me )

✒️.Positive Self-Talk: Stop criticizing yourself for every little thing. Replace “I’m not good enough” with “I’m improving every day.”

✒️.Smile More: Not in a forced way, but in a “I’m genuinely happy to be here” way. It makes you approachable.

✒️.Know Your Worth: You don’t need validation from others. You’re enough as you are.

4. Romanticize Your Life

🎀.This is a big one. Wonyoungism is about making life feel magical.

-Light a candle while you study.

-Take yourself on dates.

-Look up at the sky and just… breathe.

-Life is short—find beauty in the little things.

5. Be Kind but Have Boundaries

🎀.Wonyoung radiates warmth, but she’s not a pushover.

!-Compliment others. Help out when you can.But don’t let people cross your lines. You can say “no” gracefully and still be lovely.

Why Be a Wonyoungism Girlie?

✒️.Because life’s too short to dim your shine.

✒️.You deserve to feel good about yourself every day.

✒️.Confidence and kindness are a power combo—people gravitate toward it.

✒️.Romanticizing your life makes the mundane feel exciting. You’ll start looking forward to little things, like your morning coffee or a walk in the park...

✒️.It’s not about being Wonyoung—it’s about being you but better, brighter, and more unapologetic.

@bloomzone

[moonahstone]

I really want all the outties to be weirdly connected in some capacity. Something like Mark used to be in a group where his friend was this woman named Gretchen who was married to this really nice guy who looking back was weirdly familiar but he's not seen him in a while so probably not, he thinks he was called Dylan or something? And then there's that nice old guy he sees in the park a lot walking his dog, Gemma used to schedule herself just so she could run into the man and his dog. The man never said anything more than a polite hello but the dog always rushed to Gemma when she was alive and since Mark hasn't been to that park in a while he kind of misses the dog. Then Dylan used to work a lot of odd jobs, one in a paint shop briefly and the only customer he ever remembered was the guy who only ever bought heaps of black oil paint. Once he bought a red and a white which they had a laugh about but that's kind of it. And all of them have seen Helena in the newspapers before, they all know her face. She remembers them each though from brief crossings, she never gets to see people or talk to people so when strangers stop to say hello it sticks with her, a nice chat with Mark when she got lost in Kier and he explained the best bus route to take, waiting for a table at a restaurant the same night of Dylan's anniversary and the wait was raaather a while so they stood and talked and she congratulated them on their years together, a visit to a gallery where she mistook a rather overexcited Irv talking about a painting to someone as a gallery guide and proceeded to follow him for a few paintings before they talked and laughed about the mix up. Their faces linger in each others minds for the randomist of things, just little chats here and there which in the moment meant a whole lot

I know it won't happen but holy shit it would be so sweet if it did

[j0hnpr1c3sm1ssus]

FICMAS - DAY 8 - CHRISTMAS SHOPPING

Title: Helicopters and Mugs

Synopsis: You and Simon go out to the shops to buy the Task Force Christmas Presents

Warnings: None, I don't think. I describe Simon as a serial killer type look, though. I think it's funny idk

AN: Holy shit has this series taken FOREVER to post. I hope you all enjoy this one, I think it's cute?

"Fockin' cold out, innit?" Simon grumbles out, pulling you with his mitted hand by your shoulder closer to his figure. It's snowing, nearly 30 centimetres on the ground (approx. 1 ft), and it is cold as sin. He's wearing gloves with skeleton hands on it--of *course he is*-- and a black trench coat, he has a mask on, and a black beanie--he looks like a bloody serial killer.

But he's *your* serial killer. He's a tall lad--approximately.. 1.88 metres (6'2" or 6'3", I'm bad at maths!) and he's built like a brick shithouse. Needless to say, you're warmed by his disgustingly large body, that smart coat he bought you, a jumper underneath, maybe some boots, and good denim.

You nod a small nod, "Cold, yeah.."

He huffs out, shaking his head in annoyance as he guides you down the street into the first of shoppes.

"What're you gettin' Kyle again?" He asks in that grumbley tone as you pull out your little Christmas plan from your pocket.

You glance through your list, "New hat, and as a gag gift one of those helicopter toys."

Simon barks out a laugh, smirking under that mask.

"And Johnny?"

"Oh- a sketchbook and some good coloured pencils!" You beam up at him, and he just rolls his eyes fondly.

"And Cap'?"

You look down at your list, "World's Best Dad mug. His old one broke and it's not a gag gift, surprisingly."

Simon shakes his head, amused. He leads you into a toy shoppe, "C'mon... We'll get the bloody 'copter first."

Inside the toy shoppe is a fucking nightmare. Parents and kids and grandparents all trying to shop for "the perfect gifts."

"I wonder if they'll have an art supplies section," you says up to Simon, who moves his hand to the small of your back, clearly not liking the amount of eyes on you.

He merely grunts in response, leading you to the boy's section.

You find all the cars and trucks and toys like that and look around, eyes all wide.

"I- I'm never gonna find a helicopter in this mess!" You say up to Simon, who looks down at your shock in amusement.

"Sure you will."

You scoff and roll your eyes at his encouragement, walking down the aisle a little bit, scanning every shelf as closely as you can, begging to find a stupid helicopter.

You eventually find one. It's not model, it's make so the little propellers don't get in three year old's mouths, but it's perfect. You pick up the box and beam up at Simon.

Simon huffs and rolls his eyes, "Yep. Good job. Let's go."

You and him make a leisurely walk to the registre and you narrowly get to pay, but Simon gets to hold the bag, like he'd let you.

You get to a supermarket a while later, Simon driving you.

"Alright. We'll get everythin' else 'ere," he says, hand firmly planted on your thigh, thumb rubbing the inner part.

You nod, check marking Kyle's gift and looking at the list.

"I was thinking we should get Kate flowers and an apology note signed by the force for being so rambunctious," you say thoughtfully, illiciting a bark of laughter from Simon.

"Tha's a good idea," he says, an unmistakeable smirk on his face.

He parks and guides you in, hand on the small of your back again. He glares every pair of eyes that notice you down, like a silent protector. That's what he calls himself to himself, at least, a silent protector.

You get to the little art supplies section and guy Johnny the best looking coloured pencils and sketchbook you can find. Then you go to where the mugs are found and find John a "World's Best Dad" mug.

Simon rolls his eyes as you ask him to take a picture of you and the mug together, taking it and quickly sending it to himself on your phone, handing it back like he did nothing.

Then by the time you get to the hats you're tired.

"Si," you say, holding up a hat, "take your beanie off and try this on. If it fits your head it fits his."

He tries the hat on. It's a sturdy cap, a very dark grey colour and it has some sports brand's logo on it.

It fits his head and you purse your lips as he hands it back to you.

"Wha'?" He asks, stepping towards you, "somethin' the matter?"

You shake your head, shifting your weight and tilting your head, "I.. just don't know if he'll like it. It isn't like his current hat."

He puts his arm around your shoulder, his beanie being onto his head with his other hand, "Birdie, it don' matter if 'e wears it or no'. I 'magine 'e'll like it no matter wha'."

You nod a small nod, putting the hat into the basket along with everything else.

"To checkout," you say with a small smile, leaning up to kiss Simon's clothed cheek.

"To checkou'," he confirms, guiding you along happily.

[ladykailitha]

A Love For Christmas Part 8

And here we are! The last chapter! Thank you to everyone who liked and comment on this wonderful story. I had a blast trying to make it as a Hallmark Christmas-y as possible!

Steve gets what he always wanted for Christmas, people who love him!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

~

It had been six weeks since I sent my little elf off into the big wide world and I was anxious to see how they were doing.

They had been sending progress reports on their person they chosen to help bring to the joy of Christmas. They had originally chosen a battered and worn down secretary, but when she unexpectedly passed away, they were forced to change tack and instead began to focus on the son of the business owner.

The young man had had a rash of bad Christmases and didn’t believe in the holiday anymore. The elf had been working tirelessly to help the poor man out and they had done a stellar job.

I walked up to their stall at the Christmas market and asked for a cup of hot chocolate.

“Santa!” they cried cheerfully and then covered their mouth with a blush.

“It’s alright,” I told them. “There are enough people around that any old man with a white beard might be mistaken for the jolly, old soul.” I winked.

They grinned back.

“He has really turned around and loves Christmas now,” they said proudly. “I did it!”

“You most certainly did.” I pull out a small box and hand it to them. “This is for that young man. So if you could find away to get it to him, I’d appreciate it.”

Their eyes went wide and their smile was incandescent. “You trust me to deliver a present for you?”

I nod.

They clutch to their chest and then salute.

I laugh. It’s good to see them so happy.

~

“Come on, Stevie!” Eddie implored. “You can’t leave Hawkins without seeing the Christmas Market! It’s what the town is known for.”

Steve shook his head. “The last time I went to one of those things it was held together by duck tape and Elmer’s glue. It had three shops and shopping mall Santa who was more drunk than he was jolly, and my best friend left me stranded there to go make out with his girlfriend when he saw what a disaster it was.”

“Holy shit,” Eddie huffed, eyes wide. “You are Christmas cursed!”

Steve waved his arm in front of him. “See? And that wasn’t even the worst of it.”

“What could be worse then that?” Eddie asked cocking his head to the side.

“My dad couldn’t pick me out for three hours,” Steve huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “So I was wandering around looking for something to do and somehow got roped into being Santa for two of those hours while their paid Santa slept off his booze.” He threw his arms in the air. “I didn’t even get paid. I was told I was ‘volunteering’ and that my payment was the joy on the little tykes’ faces.”

Eddie licked his lips slowly. “Babe, now you have to come to ours. It is so not like that. At all.”

“You promise?”

“Yeah, Stevie,” Eddie said with a fond, dimpled smile. “I promise.”

~

Eddie drove Steve’s car because he wanted Steve’ to be blindfolded but didn’t want to take his van. It was having issues and Eddie had to wait until after they tallied up all the money from their close to Christmas sales before he could get it fixed.

Finally they came to a stop and Eddie hurried around to the passenger side door and opened it for Steve. He carefully guided him out of the car and toward the entrance, making sure the car was locked behind them.

Then Eddie removed the blindfold.

There was a huge sign welcoming them the Christmas Market in red, green, and white. The entrance was framed by two massive Nutcrackers. Beyond the entrance were shops and booths galore. People dressed as elves and old-timey carolers wandered around, cheerfully singing Christmas songs.

It was what Steve always imagined what the North Pole must have looked like.

“Eddie...” he breathed. “It’s beautiful.”

Eddie grinned back at him. “Just wait until you see what’s inside.”

So they walked in and immediately Steve was struck by the sounds, sights, and smells of Christmas. It was bright and cheerful, but with a homey atmosphere that Steve had never experienced before in his life.

Suddenly he was tugging on Eddie’s wrist and dragging him over to the carolers dressed up as though they walked out of the pages of Dickens novel.

Eddie laughed.

They had bought cookies from the German shop and chocolates from the Swiss shop.

Then Robin came bounding up to them. “You made it!”

Steve wrapped his arms around her and swung her around. “This is amazing!”

“Is it just?” she cried happily. “Come on, you have to come with me to the beverage booth. There is a pretty girl there and I need you to make sure she’s not some angel or something, she so gorgeous!”

Eddie and Steve laughed, but followed her to the beverage booth. Sure enough there were a pretty red-headed girl with bright green eyes and sweet smile.

“She’s so your type!” Steve said bumping her shoulder with his.

“Shut up!”

Steve walked up to the booth. “Two hot chocolates please.”

Her name tag read: Chrissy. Perfect.

Once Chrissy handed over the two cups in beautifully decorated red styrofoam cups, Steve smiled brightly at her. “And your number for my friend?” He jerked his head to where Eddie and Robin were standing.

“I guess that depends which one it’s for?” Chrissy said with a wink.

Steve grinned. “The pretty blonde.”

Chrissy looked back over at them and then nodded with satisfactory smile. She pulled out a pen and wrote her number on a napkin, handing it to Steve.

“I’d say to tell her I get off at seven,” Chrissy said with a smile, “but I think she knows that.”

Steve laughed and walked back over.

~

“They’re so perfect together,” Robin said with a sigh. “Just look at them. So pretty and sporty. Just think of the babies they’d have.”

Eddie frowned. He hadn’t liked the way she kept looking over here at them when she was supposedly supposed to be working.

Then Steve came up to them with a big grin. He handed the hot chocolate to Eddie. “A hot chocolate for the handsome gentleman.” Then he handed the napkin to Robin. “And the pretty girl’s number for Robin. She gets off at seven and likes to watch the carolers.”

Eddie and Robin shared a shocked glance.

“You asked her out for me?” Robin asked in amazement.

“Sure,” Steve said brightly. “Everyone deserves a little Hallmark cheesiness for Christmas.” Then he winked at Eddie, who turned as bright red as the cup in his hand.

~

Far too soon the place was closing up, Robin and Chrissy had long since gone home together and it was just Eddie and Steve under the glistening stars.

“Thanks for making Christmas special this year,” Steve murmured as they got into the car.

“It’s not over with yet,” Eddie said, slipping into the passenger seat. “There’s still Christmas chaos with everyone. There’s going to be lots of food courtesy of Claudia with no orange to be found,” he started ticking off on his fingers, “Joyce and Hopper are bringing the drinks, everyone is bringing presents. You don’t have to buy something for anyone, your presence will be the gift. But I, uh. I got you something.”

Steve lit up and dared to glance over at him. “I got you something too. I really hope you like it.”

Eddie’s answering grin was enough to keep Steve warm all the way back to Indy.

~

He called his parents to tell them he was moving out of Indy which was met with the same disdain he had gotten from them his whole life.

“You’ll regret that,” Mrs. Harrington sniffed. “He might be pretty now, but once you run out of money, he’ll do the same.”

“Think about what you’re doing, Steven,” Mr. Harrington grumbled. “You know you’re not smart, you’re only importance is as my son and if you walk away from that no one will even look at you twice.”

“Seriously, Steven,” Mrs. Harrington continued, “there is no amount sex that will make being with someone like that palpable. There were several young ladies at the party who would have been willing to put up with your flaws for the amount of money you make. They were just frightened off by that riffraff you brought with you.”

“There are plenty of opportunities in the company,” Mr. Harrington huffed. “You just need to put your back into it.”

Steve burst out laughing. “We both know that the junior partner was going to Tommy or Billy. It was never going to be me. I hate what we do. I always have. But I’m tired of wasting my life for a job I never wanted. I have a lot of money saved up, I’m not going for some guy. I’m going because that person looked at my unhappy life and showed me it didn’t have to be that way.”

“If you walk away from this,” Mr. Harrington growled, “you’ll never see another cent from us.”

“We’ll never see or speak to you either,” Mrs. Harrington twittered. “Is that really what you want?”

Steve let out a happy little sigh. “Oh god, yes.” Then he hung up and blocked both of their numbers.

He felt free for the first time in his life.

~

Steve pulled into driveway of the Munsons’ house. It was small and homey and gave off a warmth that all the other houses he had been to did. Nothing like his bland apartment or the Macy’s catelogue worthy house he grew up in.

He grabbed the red velvet bag he brought just for tonight and made his way to the door. He knocked and instantly it opened up to Eddie in a Santa hat.

“Stevie!” Eddie cried, big grin on his face. “You made it.” Then he spotted the bag and his eyes went wide. “And with gifts, too. You are a very welcome sight!” He stepped back to let Steve in.

Steve slipped past him, so close that their chests brushed against each other and Steve felt a spike of warm lance through his chest and settle down into his belly.

He sat down next to the tree and suddenly Joyce was at his side with a steaming mug of Jim’s apple cider.

“It’s a good thing Jim doesn’t like orange in this otherwise we would have had troubles,” she said handing him the mug.

Steve blushed. “Oh I checked before I poured myself some. I’m aware that most recipes call for it and was very happy to find out it didn’t. Didn’t need it either.”

“I’m glad you’re here, Steve,” Joyce said with a smile.

“Me too.”

Then it was time for presents and Steve got to play Santa. Not everyone got a present from everyone else, but everyone had a stack of presents so no one felt left out.

But every time someone opened a present from Steve they would gasp and say that was just what they always wanted.

Finally when Eddie opened up a black wooden dice box complete with sparkling red dice, did anyone ask the question.

“Holy shit,” he breathed. “It’s beautiful, but how did you know?”

Steve shrugged. “Robin helped me pick out gifts from everyone.”

Dustin tilted his head to the side. “But how would she know? She’s only been here since November.”

Steve mirrored his expression and blinked. “Huh. It just always felt like she’d always been here, you know?”

Everyone agreed that it felt that way to them too, and everyone moved on. Then it was time for Steve to open his.

He got warm woolly socks from Robin, hand-stitched pillows from Dustin and Claudia. Dustin picked out the colors and material and Claudia sewed them. A box of Eggo’s from Ellie. A nice hat and scarf from Eddie and a few things from everyone else.

“Hey Steve,” Robin said, “I think one of your presents dropped.” She indicated under his chair with her chin.

Steve looked down between his legs and sure enough, there was a small present took behind one of his legs. “Oh thanks!”

He picked it up and unwrapped it. It was a necklace box, the kind his dad would buy his mom when he cheated on her. On top was a note and when he read it, tears streamed down his face as he pressed a hand to his mouth to stifle his cries.

Eddie came over and sat down in the chair next to his. “Hey, you okay?”

Steve handed him the note to read as he opened up the box with that little sproing and snap that jewelry boxes have.

“Dear Stevie,

I’m sorry I’m fifteen years late, but it took me a while to find the perfect match. Take a chance and I think you’ll find I’m right.

xxSanta”

“What’s this about?” Eddie asked lifting the note.

“When I was eleven I wrote to Santa begging him to send me someone who would love me unconditionally and would never leave me. Not like my parents who more concerned with appearances then the health of their own son.” Steve shook his head. “When nothing came under the tree that Christmas, I stopped believing in him.”

He lifted the necklace. It was red guitar pick on a black leather cord and he frowned at it in confusion.

“Holy shit! That’s mine!” Eddie gasped. “I thought I lost it that day our at the Sinclair farm when I rescued the horses. It must have fallen off then.” He reached out to rub the surface of the pick between his finger and thumb. “I thought it was gone for sure.”

Steve put the necklace around Eddie’s neck and used it pull this beautiful man to him. Then he sealed their lips with a kiss.

~

“You did a good job, Robin,” I said, appearing next to her as she watched Eddie and Steve whisper their ‘I love you’s. He bumped her shoulder with his. “And yes you can stay here. You’re happier here than you ever were in the North Pole. You found your people.”

Robin blushed a bright pink. “Thanks, boss. I thought for sure the job was sunk when Dolores passed away, but I think he had more influence on this sweet little group then she would have.”

“I think if there is a God,” I said warmly, “I think he was looking out for our Stevie, too.”

“What will happened to Steve now?” she asked fondly.

I chuckled. “He’ll move out here to Hawkins and go to school at the state school, get a degree in doing something he loves and continue to deepen the connections he made here over the last month.”

Robin nodded. She looked up at Santa and he appeared younger than when she saw him at the Christmas Market.

“The more Christmas spirit there is,” I explained to her unasked question, “the younger I appear. It’s nice to be able to straighten my spine, it’s been awhile.”

“Does that mean Mrs. Claus also gets young and hot, too?” Robin asked with a grin.

I laughed my jolly ole laugh. “Too bad you won’t be heading back to the North Pole with me to find out.”

“Rude.”

“I punished Myrtle, by the way,” I told her. “The elf who sabotaged your sleigh.”

Robin cocked her head to the side. “Yeah?”

“I told her that I was taking her with me on my around the world trip,” I explained.

“That doesn’t sound like much of a punishment,” Robin huffed, crossing her arms with a pout. “That’s like the dream come true of every elf in the workshop.”

I tucked my thumbs in my belt loop and rocked back on my heels with a grin. “As reindeer scooper.”

Robin blinked for a moment as she took in what he just said, then she threw her head back and laughed.

“Merry Christmas, Robin,” I said kissing the top of her head.

Merry Christmas, indeed, she thought with a smile.

~

Tag List: COMPLETED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @steddieislife @tartarusknight @themoonagainstmers

[vaguesxrrow]

charles x alive reader w a sprinkle of angst? established relationship pls? maybe the reader is going off to college (american reader) and like the reader is getting older but charles is not and maybe there’s a little sprinkle of fear with that? happy ending tho pls!! tysm i love ur writing!

tysm for the request !! hope i didnt keep you waiting too long and this is what you had in mind

charles / alive!reader - getting older and going to college

a/n: for the purposes of this fic reader is going to college early at around 17

wc: 1027

tags: gender neutral reader, alive reader, american reader

your fingers trembled as you moved the cursor to the email from the college you had applied to. standing above you, charles guided your hand, keeping it steady. "whatever happens, i love you, yeah?"

you huffed a laugh. "i know that, silly."

"just trying to reassure my awesome, genius [boy/girlfriend/partner]."

rolling your eyes, you clicked on the email. your gaze zeroed in on the word at the top, in big bold letters: CONGRATULATIONS.

"holy shit," you breathed. you stood up to look at charles incredulously.

"HOLY SHIT!" charles yelled, grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking you excitedly. "i TOLD you!" he tugged you into a hug, jumping up and down. you pulled apart, only for him to kiss you and draw your bodies together again. you grinned into his lips.

"you." charles punctured his worlds with kisses to your cheek. "are. amazing."

you laughed at his antics. this was your dream college, and you would be happy about it. you wouldn't think about how, when you inevitably left, charles might not be there to cheer you on like he was right now.

no - what mattered was that he was here, and you were together in this moment, at least.

you kissed him again.

⌦ ---

edwin and crystal were on your right, and charles was on your left, rubbing circles into your hand. jenny had closed down her butcher shop for the night, because 'it's your birthday. it's a special occasion.' you had smiled then, and hugged her tight to show your gratitude.

the lights were dimmed, and niko's decor expertise meant fairy lights draped across every available surface, including the moose taxidermy head. she had also tied pink ribbons to its antlers.

jenny and niko emerged from the back room - jenny held a cake, lit with 17 candles. niko animatedly followed her. "jenny was scared i'd drop the cake," she informed everyone. "but i placed the candles - that's why they're in a heart! and i wrote the message in frosting."

"aww, they do make a heart," you said. "that's so cute."

jenny carefully put down the cake in front of you. you leaned forward and grinned at what niko wrote on it - 'WE LOVE YOU!!' in impeccable cursive, and then a small 'happy birthday' underneath it. niko hurried to stand next to charles, and jenny went to stand across from you all.

jenny pulled out her phone and held it up to record a video (even if ghosts couldn't show up on recordings). "sing happy birthday, guys!" she said.

everyone sang - even edwin. you smiled sincerely at all your friends, and mouthed a 'thank you' to jenny behind the camera.

"presents time!" niko squealed.

"ooh, me first," crystal said. she held out to you a box that had materialised from seemingly from nowhere. it was a simple brown, with a dark purple bow. you opened the box to find a novel you had been searching for for ages now - you were touched she remembered - and a soft sweater. you 'aww'ed' at her and gave her a hug.

edwin handed you a leather-bound notebook and a fancy pen - both of which were engraved with your name on it. "i happened to know a person who did custom engravements," he said simply, when you tried to thank him.

jenny gave you a pair of headphones from a brand you knew was not cheap. you gaped at her. "seriously?" you squealed.

"what? isn't it what teenagers like nowadays?"

you tackled her into a hug.

niko gifted you a very detailed drawing of you, her, crystal, edwin, and charles. "i wanted you to have a picture of all of us for when you go to college, but we can't exactly photograph the boys."

you smiled at her sincerely, even as something anxious twisted in your chest. charles was last to give you your present, and your forced smile barely concealed the sadness welling up inside you. from the pockets of his jacket, he pulled out a metal... contraption about the size of a phone.

"it's a music box kind of thing," he explained. "i got it at tragic mick's, and it's got all your favourite songs in it, plus a few others that reminded me of you."

you kissed him in lieu of a ‘thanks’, cradling the gift gently in your hands.

even with all the celebration and presents, though, you couldn't shake the underlying fear in you at the thought of getting older, and having to move on - move away - to other things.

⌦ ---

after cake and good-natured banter around the table, everyone returned to their rooms - crystal went to bed, but you could hear the soft sound of scooby doo and edwin's inquiring voice from niko's room. charles had followed you to yours, not that you were complaining.

"i know we still have a lot of time till i leave," you said immediately after you shut the door. "but i'm gonna miss you a lot."

"hey, listen," charles said, taking your face in his hands. "i promise, [name], that i will mirror travel to you no matter what, at least once a week. although we both know it'll be more than that, yeah? cause i could never be away from you for that long."

you laughed. "yeah."

"and that's why i'm giving this to you." charles reached into his pocket again, this time withdrawing a cloth satchet. "open it," he said as he placed it into your hands.

you complied, gasping in surprise as you found a gorgeously crafted pocket mirror.

"i'll mirror travel through it. it works - i've already tried." he said. "i know you're scared about what might happen, and i am too. but let's just take things day by day, yeah?" his hands moved from your face to your shoulders, then down your arms - you shivered at his gentle touch - eventually coming to intertwine your fingers.

"cause right now," he continued. "you're my [boy/girlfiend/partner] and i'll put in all the needed effort to keep it this way. that sound good?"

you laughed in relief, a huge weight having been lifted off your shoulders and a bit teary-eyed. "yeah. that sounds brills."

[scarletttries]

NSFW Headcanon Request: Steven Grant (Moon Knight)

Steven Grant + Lingerie: (prompt list here)

- Steven Grant could have gone his whole life never considering women's underwear any further than knowing Bridget Jones's were apparently on the frumpy side (a closet rom-com fan, Steven has seen all the British classic a dozen times over in his so-far-uneventful pursuit of his own dramatic romance.) That is until you came into his life, the first person he had ever had the enormous privilege of falling in love with.

- It may have taken longer than you were expecting from a man you found endlessly handsome and charming, but after a run of almost perfect dates, Steven's nervous clumsiness aside, you were finally straddling his lap on the middle of his plush couch, guiding his hands the buttons of your dress so you could finally show him what you hand on underneath. Fumbling with each and every movement of his hands, and trying desperately to focus on your buttons as his head swam with the intoxicating taste of your lips on his, eventually he undid the final clasp allowing you to shrug off the velvety fabric and reveal the dark red, lacy, matching lingerie set you'd picked out hoping you'd end your night in this position.

- Steven's eyes would be wider than the moon taking in your exquisite beauty, the way the dark colours held your curves, the shimmering flesh peaking through the gaps in the lace, the slight outline of your nipples hardening against the fabric. He was in heaven. He didn't even realise people could look this beautiful, this otherworldly, this completely stunning, and in even more disbelief, that someone this gorgeous would be perched excitedly on his lap, leaving a trail of eager kisses down his neck that almost threatened to have his eyes flutter shut, if he wasn't so afraid to miss a second of this view.

- His hands skim over your thighs, toying with the frilled edges of the lace, a strangled moan erupting from his as you buck your hips against his, bringing his attention to the uncomfortable throbbing between in his legs as his manhood pushes against the tight fabric of his corduroys. It isn't hard to tell that Steven is a huge fan of you wearing a little less, but you start to get the picture as you experiment with different pretty little sets you own, figuring out exactly which ones drive Steven to the edge the quickest. The day you wore a sheer light pink set, complete with suspenders, Steven spent the whole night with his head buried between your thighs, too embarrassed to admit he'd cum in his boxers the moment you kissed him.

- Steven would want to get you some nice lingerie as a gift, but the moment he walked into a London lingerie store he got so flustered he walked into a scantily clad mannequin, knocked it over, apologised, and then sprinted out of the shop and straight home. Thankfully there are more than a few places online to order such a gift, and in fact browsing the range of options available opens up a whole new world for Steven. He never knew bras could come without straps, picturing how much easier it would be to slip his hands inside and let your boobs spill over the top where he could press his lips against them. But why stop there when he could buy you a pretty little bralet with two slits in the fabric exactly where your nipples would sit, meaning Steven could slip his fingers under your shirt and start teasing your sensitive tits, picturing all the fun he'd have getting you worked up as you tried to watch a movie resting against his chest.

- This would lead him to the holy grail of his latest obsession; crotchless panties. When he didn't think there could be any better feeling than slipping your wet lacy thong to the side as he worked his fingers into your greedy entrance, here was the perfect solution. He found himself scrolling through the whole collection, picturing you coming to visit him at work in one of your pretty summer dresses with a pair of these underneath, letting him pull you onto his lap while he stretches you with his hard length, watching you squirm as his colleagues walked by and commented on what a cute pair you were and how much happier Steven seemed these days. Before he's managed to place an order his trousers are down and his hand is wrapped around his aching cock, picturing you in the matching set on the screen, beautifully adorned in lace but with all your most sensitive areas exposed for Steven to play with. His hand starts to move faster as pictures you panting and moaning as he plays with your pretty little clit, chest bouncing as your nipples spill out of your bra, no choice but to let him touch every single part of you. He's picturing the sticky mess he'd leave dripping down the front of your panties when he can't hold back his release any more, the thought of his cum dripping down your thighs with no fabric to stop it sending him over the edge. By the time he goes to bed he's paid for next day delivery and invited you over for 'movie night' tomorrow.

[bunnie-online]

Sooo since this is a safe space I’ve got a certain Hayden request… 👀 what about you surprising your boyfriend Sam Monroe with your new nipple piercings?? except they’re sensitive & you need some soothing?!? I’m already screaming 🥲😭

ooooh this is good- thIS IS GOOOOD sam would be SO down for that

warnings: afab! reader, tit-sucking, established relationship, collegeAU! sam, slightly subby!sam

it was friday evening, all of your classes are finished for the week, your friends asked you to hang out with them for a while, one of them was going to get a tattoo and needed moral support, and what better moral support than going along and getting a piercing you've always wanted!

you and your friends head out to dinner and then go on your merry way to the tattoo shop. the whole time you're exchanging texts with your boyfriend, Sam. gently teasing him about the surprise you have waiting for him. your banter back and forth with your very eager boyfriend has made you, for lack of better words, excited.

after holding your friends hand and experiencing a world full of pain yourself, you part ways with your friends and make your way back to your shared apartment. Sam basically tackled you as soon as you stepped foot through the door. "ah! god, Sam!" you wince in pain. He jumps back. "Baby? what's wrong?" he asks, now extremely concerned.

"well~" you say in a sing-song voice. "remember my surprise?" you take his hand in yours. he nods enthusiastically, almost like an excited puppy. you guide his hand to your waist first, slowly tracing it up to your chest. you can see him gulp, his adam's apple bobbing heavily. "mhm." he almost whimpers.

you continue to guide his hand, bringing it up to the hem of your loose cropped sweater, you have to manually wrap his fingers around it, poor thing is too drunk off his own horniness to function properly at this point. you tell him to pull up, your voice snapping him out of his daze.

"uhm o-kay" his voice cracks, his eyes are blown wide. Sam keeps eye contact with you while lifting your sweater tantalizingly slowly. "you can look, Sam." you laugh, your free hand finding its way to his hair.

when he finally lifts your sweater, revealing your 'surprise', you were convinced if his eyes widened any further, they'd fall out of his head. "y-you got yo- you got- nip- you- wow. holy shit." he stammers. he reaches out to touch them, only for you to flinch away in pain again. "sorry, baby!" he apologizes quickly, his eyes never leaving your tits.

"you know how you could ease some sensitivity, Sam?" you coo at him and his eyes finally snap to yours. "h-how? i'll do anything to make you feel better. anything." his eyes are innocent, but the thoughts behind them are most definitely not.

"how about you put them in you-" you couldn't even finish your sentence before his head dipped down and he took one of your sore, swollen nipples into your mouth. you arch your back into him and he wraps on of his hands around you waist, and one on your other breast. you tangle your hands in his blue streaked hair. "ah! Sam, i-i didn't even get to finish speaking" your voice light and airy as you moan and gasp between words.

"wanna make you feel better." he whines. he then wraps his arms around your thighs, lifting you up and taking you into the living room. Sam placed you down gently on the couch, laying you down. "gonna make my girl feel better. gonna be a good boy."

~~~~~~~~~

OOOOOOOOO needy Sam bro i'm GONEEEE

~bunnie

[yunwangja]

undercurrents | signal no. 13

masterlist | next signal

it started with a flutter in your chest, nerves tangling in your stomach as you met tooru at the entrance. you weren’t sure how to act, your mind racing with what-ifs and worries. sure, you were better at talking to him, but there's just so much on your mind and you want to make sure you spend this day right.

you and tooru wander through the bustling mall, the sounds of laughter, chatter, and the occasional clatter of shopping bags filling the air. the afternoon has been a whirlwind of activity.

he guided you toward the arcade, his excitement bubbling over. his enthusiasm was almost childlike, and before you knew it, you were laughing along with him, the earlier tension in your shoulders easing. he challenged you to game after game, his competitive streak shining through as he refused to let you win easily.

he’d been quick to drag you to a karaoke booth afterward, insisting that it was an essential part of any outing. your initial nerves melted away as tooru belted out song after song, his infectious energy pulling you into the fun.

tooru had a way of making you feel at ease, his bright personality and easygoing nature dissolving any tension you might have felt. the more time you spent together, the more you realized just how effortlessly he made you laugh, how natural it felt to be around him.

yet, despite the joy of the day, there was an underlying sense that something was missing, a subtle disconnect that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

now, the two of you are sitting in a fast food chain, taking a break from the day’s excitement. the late afternoon sun filters through the windows, casting a warm glow on your table.

tooru’s already moved on to dessert, happily munching on his ice cream, while you’re still working through the last bites of your meal. the silence between you is comfortable, a testament to how far you’ve come since the awkwardness that once plagued your interactions.

tooru breaks the quiet with a smile. “you’re really fun to be with, y/n,” he says, his voice filled with genuine warmth. “i had a hunch you were, and i’m really glad you asked me to hang out today.”

you return his smile, feeling a sense of pride at how natural this day has been. “i’m glad too. you’re really great, but i think you already know that,” you tease, earning a laugh from him. “i really wanted to spend a day with you.”

he chuckles, shaking his head. “yeah, and now bo’s even jealous,” he adds, and you both burst into laughter at the thought of bokuto’s over-the-top reaction.

“really?” you ask, amused.

“yeah,” he confirms, still grinning.

the conversation flows easily from there, covering everything from silly anecdotes to deeper topics. it’s easy, comfortable, and undeniably enjoyable. yet, even as you laugh and engage in the conversation, there’s a nagging feeling in the back of your mind, a sense of something not quite right.

“you’re a really good friend, y/n,” tooru says at one point, his tone sincere as he looks at you across the table.

the words hit you harder than they should. a really good friend.

it’s not the boundary he’s setting that catches you off guard; it’s the realization that those words resonate with what you’ve been feeling all day. you glance down at your now-empty plate, your thoughts racing.

he’s a good friend. just a good friend.

and that’s why today felt different.

despite everything, despite how much fun you’ve had, you never once felt like you were spending time with your crush. instead, it felt like you were hanging out with a close friend.

holy shit.

you're confused. you swear you said the same with kuroo. why does this seem different? if what you’ve felt today is the comfort of friendship, then what is it that you feel with kuroo? the realization sends your heart sinking into your stomach, a mixture of dread and clarity washing over you.

tooru notices the change in your demeanor, his brows furrowing with concern. “are you okay, y/n?” he asks, his voice gentle.

you look back at him, your thoughts still swirling. you take some time to think. maybe, you're just overthinking things. maybe your friends just got to you.

you stare at tooru.

and you stare at him some more. tooru.

he's great. i like him a lot. but why. why is it different?

then you think about kuroo.

kuroo. you imagine his face. his smile. his presence. his voice. his laugh. the way he teases you. you think about the every time you spent with him. the way he made you feel.

and it hits you.

fuck.

there’s a seriousness in your expression that wasn’t there before, and tooru’s concern deepens. “is something wrong?” he presses, leaning forward slightly.

“tooru,” you say quietly, your voice steady but laced with the weight of what you’re about to admit. he stays silent, waiting for you to continue, his eyes never leaving yours.

you take a deep breath, the words forming on your lips before you even fully process them.

“i think i have feelings for kuroo.”

and just like that, tooru transitions from being the object of your affection to the first person you’ve admitted your feelings for kuroo to.

notes

and that is the story... of how tooru and yn became besties <3

it wasnt narrated but after yn admitted her feelings she told tooru everything. like, every. thing. from her past relationship, to how she had a crush on tooru, up til that day

and bo has cracked the code !!!!!! (this is what the journey i was talking about lol ok sorry if that was corny)

kenma always has his door locked but the moment bo said "OH" "OH" he unlocked it, all ready to finally tell someone

we officially welcome yn's new era <3

taglist: @lvtilzs @rarararararq @iamfontenlos @kurooswifeyy @secretsunsetsociety @kagsnumnine @yumiecheesecrackers @tojirin @jaynawayna @noxva08 @zahrawr-writes-fanfics @urslytherin @mawenskiblue @smellysluna @cccccccccccleo @winniethepooh-lover @akirqx @cupidsblonde @kukkurookkoo

[cloveroctobers]

SWEET DREAMS — Terry Richmond [October Prompts] 🧡

A/N: It’s really making me happy that I have someone new to write about! And now I get to do that some more during my favorite season? You know I had to! Thanks for all the previous love on my first work about this stunning lion looking man! Hope to do more for the next season too 🤩

WARNINGS: Get your sage & holy water ready! This fic includes — Fluff, grief, and Mike is alive! Most likely language, written with a black woman in mind, & this ended up much longer than I intended! Basically…fuck around and find out?

SYNOPSIS: Life is short, shorter than you can imagine but sleep can feel like a eternity.

Firstly this is inspired by the haunting of hill house just a little + PROMPTS can be found here & I’m using: 25. “Well, it is a seance.” / “Good thing the person I want to see is already here.” + 28. Playing with an Ouija board.

<- read my previous spooky anthology prompt here.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ 𓉸ྀི ๋࣭ ⭑⚝ 𓉸ྀི ๋࣭ ⭑⚝ 𓉸ྀི ๋࣭ ⭑⚝ 𓉸ྀི ๋࣭ ⭑⚝ 𓉸ྀི ๋࣭

Terry remembers her roller set digging into his collarbone as they lounged on their couch together one (always) warm autumn afternoon. She often complained about wash days but each one was different when it came to how she wanted to style it for the next two to three weeks. He helped her roll and clip the back of her head once she started to whine that her arms were about to fall off. He may have worked her too hard in the gym two days ago but regardless, dealing with a crown like this would always be a task, so he didn’t mind taking on some of the weight.

He made sure to kiss her temple once she stated that she can handle the rest, while he left her to get started on dinner. It was always a rule between the two to have dinner at the table, since they hardly got the chance to experience that in their own upbringings. Majority of the time, this rule was followed but that day she struggled to keep her head upright as she shuffled around the waterfront raised french provincial home.

Terry was pretty commanding and even guided her to the table once everything was ready, although she wanted to throw a tantrum, a tender kiss to her lips snapped her out of it as they sat across from each other to have dinner. Once that was over? He had no issue lounging on the couch for a while; her nodding off with the aroma of rosemary being prominent from her roots.

“We should be fall shopping since scary movies aren’t really our thing.” She croaked, through slits in her eyes, as some football game was playing on the flatscreen.

Terry snorts, “I told you I was down for: it’s the great pumpkin, Charlie Brown.”

“What are we, five?” She sassed.

Terry leaned away to peek down at his girl, “Huh? You’re more of the scary one out of the relationship than I am.”

“…SO?” She huffed, followed by a yawn that ripped through her lips.

Terry chuckled, “yeah you must be real tired because that comeback was not challenging enough.”

She hums, tightening her crossed arms as she closes her eyes once more. Terry loops an arm across her chest, leaning the elbow of his other arm along the arm of the couch while pressing his knuckles against his mouth, eyes focused on the game now while he let her get her nap on. He already knew the deal, that he wouldn’t let her sleep too long since she had to go into her regular shift down at the library the next morning.

She’s been taking up extra hours, (since the mortgage rates continued to go up rather than down around here) even went in on her day off for four hours before she came back home to get started on her hair. So he’d wake her up so this nap didn’t disrupt her night routine in the next thirty to forty-five minutes.

Terry, always the active one and grew tired of the game—since he wasn’t rooting for a particular team anyway—left her with a honey colored Sherpa blanket to finish out her slumber and ventured outside underneath the house, through the carport to his workshop to see what he can get into. He had his timer set on the Apple Watch she got him last Christmas, although he was used to just tracking time on his regular wrist watch, he appreciated the gift.

She came and found him before time was up, arms sneaking around his waist while Terry’s humming along to Luther Vandross’, “Don’t you know that?”

He was too in his zone, fixing up Mike’s bike and jamming to old classics that he didn’t even hear her come in, which he should scold himself for but with the way she held onto him so lovingly, nuzzling her cheek against his back, made him put that on hold for now.

“Having a good time without me, Grandpa?” She teases while Terry turns to face her.

He runs a thumb over her cheek as she smiles up at him, “Never. You’re just who I was waiting for, grandmomma. All you’re missing is the moo-moo.” He jokes back, using his other hand to flick one of her rollers which she tries to smack his hand away to not mess with.

Soon that hand is up and intertwining with her’s as Terry leads them into a sway to the beat. She’s well enough rested as she grins up at him with a slight shake of her head, knowing Terry’s in a good mood now that he has her out here slow-dancing in this muggy workshop.

“Who knew that your simba looking self would be a big softie?” She tells him as he leans towards his woman.

He keeps his intense eye contact locked only on her and stops humming to reply, “You secretly love it.”

“I do…and you too, I guess.” She jests with a whisper, also inching forward so their lips can meet once more.

There’s a red light behind Terry’s eyelids before he decides to open them. He rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling for a while and picking up on the chirping of birds, buzzing of bugs, and the possible motor of a neighbors’ nearby boat in the water. His senses were always heightened. It’s late, he knows it but he doesn’t move as the door to the back patio across from the bed is pushed open.

There she is, surrounded by the orange sunlight that fights against the fog. It’s almost too bright that he can’t make out her facial features, when he knows he usually can with his eyes closed.

“Good, you’re up.” She says closing the door behind her but the opacity still blocks out her features yet not her hair, “I thought you were going to sleep all day.”

He wants to move but finds his body stiff and unmoving. There’s a furrow of his thick brows as they start to search the brightness of the room, which is a contrast of what it’s been like for months. Terry flicks his eyes downwards, trying to move his fingers but they stay put.

He feels the dip of the bed and the clinking of a utensil against a teacup that looks an awful lot like his mother’s. She takes a sip and sighs while she then says to Terry, “This feels familiar doesn’t it?”

Terry swallows, his throat feels extremely dry and as if a lump has formed there. He wants to cough but makes no motion to do so. He keeps blinking, hoping that he can figure out what’s going on but part of him feels like he should already know.

“Don’t worry, honey. Just be thankful that you got the prettier version of me to haunt you, instead of whatever I was forced to see when I got like this.” She informs Terry, leaning over to finally show him what he remembered her to be.

The softness of her eyes, the way she sounded, the way her tongue pressed behind her front teeth when she smiled along with the way she smelled.

“I just hope you keep having sweet dreams and not what the night brings.” The last of her words echo off his ears before Terry is able to sit up with a sharp gasp of air.

His hand goes to his throat, massaging the space and clearing it as his wide eyes look around the room for her but she’s no longer here. He feels the beads of sweat appearing on the back of his neck, and the vibrating of his phone already tells him that it’s one of three people that’s probably calling him. Terry reaches over to take a peek, declining the call and sending a text that he would catch up with them later, then drags himself into the bathroom to get ready for another long day.

The obnoxious ringing of his doorbell, makes Terry stride quickly to the door to reveal his cousin, Mike along with their old friend, Summer McBride. She’s got her hands full while Mike straightens up from his position of getting ready to send a horse kick to Terry’s front door.

“I’m convinced you lost your mind.” Terry says to his family member, who just grins at him, “And I know auntie Josie taught you some manners, help Summer out, man.”

Mike scoffs while Summer sends him a knowing look with her doe eyes, “She almost chopped my hand off when I tried to take the bag from her, fam. So I did try.”

Terry steps aside to wave the pair in before saying to the short haired woman, “I told you that every time you visit, you don’t have to bring anything.”

“The only good thing my family taught me,” Summer speaks over her shoulder as she makes her way through the foyer, “was to never show up empty handed and this is nothin’.”

Terry and Mike unfortunately got to meet her (racist) family down at the usual court dates Summer had to attend. Every time they turned around her ex husband was having her down there and although Terry attended more so than Mike—not that it mattered—he had his own trauma of not wanting to be in any more courtrooms, they all showed up for one another in various of ways.

“Tell that to my still stinging hand.” Mike comments while the blonde sets her things down onto the wooden dining table.

He heads into the kitchen while Terry exhaled before moving around his own home as well.

“Oh, you complain more than my own kid!” Summer sassed while Terry gives a small smile at their bickering.

He finds himself tuning them out as he checks on the sides again before turning the stove off. When he turns back around he sees Mike rubbing his hands together in excitement, “what’s on the menu, cuz? You never answered the texts?”

Terry inhales as he glanced over his shoulder at the various pots and pans, “Nothing too crazy, thick cut pork chops with three options since I’m not sure what Summer prefers: hot sauce, applesauce, or smothered in gravy and onions.”

Mike scoffs, “well aren’t you a kind hearted son of a bitch. How come I don’t get options when we have dinner together on Thursday’s?”

“You’re just a picky eater and don’t nobody got time for that.”

Mike sucks his teeth, “you did all that extra work and watch Summer like her shit borin’ and plain.” He turns back to the blonde who stands by the side of the island counter, awaiting her answer with his brown eyes.

Summer sheepishly smiles, “I actually brought a mini hot sauce in my bag if it wasn’t an option.”

“See,” Terry laughs at Mike’s shocked face, “we got to know our friend by now, she ain’t regular.”

Summer questions, “Thank you?”

“Yeah it’s a compliment, Goldilocks. Now tell us what you did bring because if it’s coleslaw with raisins? I’m taking my plate to go.” Mike informs while Terry pinches the bridge of his nose followed by a chuckle, before moving around the kitchen to start grabbing plates.

Summer frowns, “do I look like a coleslaw kinda woman, Michael? And lucky for you, I can’t cook so I just bought over some fall inspired things that we can all try later.”

Mike pretends to gag, “this lady tryna to kill us with that pumpkin shit.”

“Mike, clear the table for me man, so we can have a clean space to serve ourselves.” Terry encourages while Summer just folds her arms and sticks her nose up at Mike’s actions before circling around to look at the prepared food until it was time to bring everything over.

Dinner was never awkward by any means. This wss a routine that they picked back up, having Sunday dinner or if they couldn’t make it or if Terry wasn’t feeling up for it they would come over for leftovers on Monday. Since Summer moved closer to where Terry and Mike resided in Lullin it was easier for her to stop on by. On Thursday’s Terry and Mike would mostly spend time at Mr. Liu’s for dinner. Although they had a business together where they saw each other every day, it was always important to continue their bond outside of work with food.

That’s been instilled in them since they were children, meeting up at Terry’s grandmother’s house and Mike’s grandfather—Terry’s great uncle—would always come by with Mike underneath his arm. That’s what started their bond thanks to their grandparent’s tight sibling relationship.

Sometimes Terry would even put on (grandpa, as she would like to call it) music while they carried on a conversation, it would mostly be Mike and Summer debating over something while Terry intently listened. If you didn’t know him, you would probably think he’s blocking them out but he could repeat back everything that was said. Since Mike was the only drinker and the pumpkin beer was mainly for him, he deemed it as not bad, shocking Summer who mocked him into giving her some credit and he even asked if he could take the remaining three pack home with him.

This was all after they stepped in to clean up the kitchen, Summer was on dish duty, Terry was putting everything into containers and making to-go boxes for the two, while Mike sipped and wiped down the counters and placed the decorations back on the dining table like how she used to have it.

Soon they were all seated on the couch, binging some ridiculous show Summer put them all onto before Mike pointed out that Summer never showed them what was in her large reusable bag that she brought with her. The blonde peeks at the time on her spot on the two seat sofa and sighed, “I guess now is a good enough time as any.”

Mike’s eyes are already low lidded as he’s lounging on the couch and looks over at Terry who simply shrugs at him.

“I’ve been thinkin’…Terry hasn’t been getting the best sleep lately, rightfully so and I thought maybe there was a way to get rid of that weight in your heart.” Summer speaks as she brings the bag over to the living room.

Terry blinks but there’s confusion in his light eyes, “I’m fine.”

“No you’re not!” Summer argues, “Sure you’re going to those therapy sessions but I know a sleep deprived person when I see one, believe me.”

Mike mumbles before taking a final swing from the bottle, “Blondie ain’t wrong, cuz. Normally you’re on your game and you always push through—don’t get me wrong—but I caught you sleeping in the office lately and that ain’t like you.”

Terry looks back and forth between the two but still speaks calmly, “so…this was your plan this dinner? To plot on me and have some sort of intervention?”

Mike shakes his head, “I don’t know what summa summa summa time brought with her, I don’t play no parts in that. I just know the anniversary of losing her is coming up and we just want to make sure you’re good, is all.”

There’s this slight ache that wants to punch through the numbness in his chest but when Terry sits up, burying his elbows into his knees, he’s able to make it subside some.

“…Because we care and we show up for one another.” Summer added, “and you started telling me about one of your dreams before in pieces but they were still so vivid. So I thought maybe she’s trying to tell you something.”

Both sets of eyes flicked to Summer as she turned to the bag that sat next to her on the sofa, her hands digging through the bag to pull out a board.

“…I know she fucking lying.”

There in her lap sat an Ouija board.

Terry drops his head while Summer blows out a breath and tries to plead her case.

“Before you all go houndin’ me about doing white shit, I just want you both to know that this was very effective for me. I got the chance to speak with my pawpaw—

“Oh yeah sure, Paw-Paw!” Mike does air quotes while Summer waits for him to be done.

“…He’s the only stable adult I had in my life and talkin’ to him through here instead of at a gravesite did me a helluva lot good. I just thought it could help you too.” Summer speaks, making Terry lift his head to meet her eyes.

Terry and Mike have known Summer for a while and she’s always been genuine. Maybe this did help her grieve her grandfather, Terry always gave people the benefit of the doubt and the chance to show their character or right their wrongs. He didn’t think Summer would purposely steer him wrong yet he’s seen some things going through training and being a marine.

He didn’t break then.

He still didn’t break when he lost her.

He couldn’t.

“You got me?” Terry finally finds himself asking Summer after a brief silence, who holds his stare before slowly dipping her head.

Summer affirms because Terry was keen on words, “I do.”

Mike wasn’t having it so Terry and Summer moved to the office that used to belong to her. Summer sets the board on the built in desk once they pass through the double doors. Terry grabs a chair from the main desk that’s in the center of the room for Summer and grabs the second from another but much smaller built in computer desk off to the side by the windows for himself.

“You’re going to have to walk me through this since this isn’t my expertise. I normally don’t mess with spirits and if this ever gets out to my grandmother—

“It’ll be our little secret and Mike’s.” Summer squeezes his shoulder before motioning for him to sit and then drags her bag in between the chairs, “it’s simple work really. We light a candle, you have something that was special to her, and we call upon the spirit realm to reach her. Then she’ll talk to us through the board.”

Terry’s expression held skepticism but Summer double checked if he wanted to go through with this. He said he would after pausing, feeling a draft at the back of his neck. He been cut the air off on the first day of autumn and was more of a let the fresh air in while she once preferred the automatic timer for the AC.

Since the evening was here already, Summer didn’t have to make the office dark. She closed the double doors per Mike’s request and lit the candle.

Playing with an ouija board was not on Terry Richmond’s bucketlist.

Ever.

“So—

Summer starts but Terry is glancing around him, “Did it just get cold in here or is it just me?”

The blonde also peers around herself and around Terry towards the wall on his right that shielded the other closed door that led to the loop of the rest of the home.

“Well, it is a seance.” Summer tried to ease her friend’s worries with a crooked smile while Terry just blankly stared at her from underneath his lashes.

“Not yet,” he mutters and fiddles with a trinket that belonged to the late love of his life.

A third time Summer asked if he’s ready before asking the second most important question, “What did you bring?”

Terry’s whole hand was wrapped around one of the many trinkets she once collected. It started in twenty-twenty when lockdown happened. The depression was hitting and she needed something that brought her out of it, she couldn’t safely continue doing piano lessons like she wanted once the library had to shut down for a while. This was her side hobby turned hustle, being musically gifted with the piano and composing.

Most of her sheet work was safely in one of these drawers.

It was really something to watch her get in her zone. Eyes closed and dainty fingers just barely touching the keys but the music always flowed and captivated. Terry was more into the physical connection with his body whereas the mental was more on her. With lockdown, Terry still knew how to manage and pushed himself even harder with keeping his body right, whereas she fell into a reading slump for awhile and started to play off key on the keys (which she hardly ever missed) along with her sleeping habits becoming problematic.

She’s always loved little trinkets, while she joked calling Terry a grandpa because of his music choices, he also joked that she was grandpa’s baby. The obsession with Calico critters actually brought her out of depression some and although she would wait weeks on weeks for the packages to arrive on their doorstep thanks to shipping delays, he never forgot learning how important these were to her.

And how by placing one, specifically from the new collection at the time, the hedgehog family, Maxwell the son and brother was placed right on her keyboard that used to rest on the main desk behind Terry and Summer. Apparently he was the pianist out of the family and was that little source of encouragement that watched her play. Sure it was kiddish by first glance but many don’t realize they have to heal their inner child to live. So you can look back at whatever you dealt with as a child and make them see, as you grow into your adulthood that this was all worth it.

Terry had no problem listening to her view on her latest obsession once the teasing was out of the way. He even tried not to be a little jealous that this toy got to give her some joy back and find her passion for piano again. He was stuck listening to her gift from around the corner instead of taking one of the chairs and sitting it in backwards in the same room to listen like he used to do. She had plenty of trinkets all over the house here and there or in plenty of storage boxes she got from tag sales. Yes they were toys but people aren’t just people, they have stories.

They talked about children before and Terry even speculated that she maybe keeping a certain secret from him (she wasn’t) once the overload of figurines started to take over but Terry wanted to be married first. Plenty already had a lot to say since they lived together, bought a house together without being married but what worked for them didn’t have to work for everyone else. She was a product of divorce because of infidelity, Terry was a product of a single hard working mom who raised and provided for him mostly whenever his grandmother didn’t step in to help.

She and Terry agreed that their marriage had to be the best example of love, they didn’t have to try very hard but they wanted the way they loved to be what their kid should expect. That love can kind, patient, fun, overwhelming, have unity, it should feel and show all the good things but also something that can be built and shaped within that unity when it got tough. They didn’t want to repeat a cycle or screw their future kid up but Terry had to remind her that there’s no perfect parent. No perfect love story but it could be perfect enough just for them two. Sometimes she had her head way up in the clouds, she was the dreamer and sometimes he had to reel her—not down but beside him again. To see that dreams are beautiful yet sometimes reality can be a nightmare and not on purpose.

They could always handle it together and not particularly with only one taking the lead.

This hedgehog full of hair as big as her’s, whenever the shrinkage stopped playing around! symbolized a lot. The rest of Maxwell’s family was around here somewhere and this is why Terry chose this one specifically to bring out because trinkets maybe of little value as a standalone but once you get them into your hands they become so much more.

Terry wished he had infinite time with her.

He’s been so lost in his grieving that he missed out on the candle blowing out on its own. The scent of the blown out wax hits his nostrils and he loosens his grip on the critter as he sits up now.

“Terry? You alright?” Summer questions, although her doe eyes are searching around the office.

He hums, not sure how to answer that as he just got hit with multiple memories.

He missed her so much.

The candle lights itself again and Summer meets Terry’s eyes, her hands clasped right in her lap, indicating that she did not do this as the lighter was placed back on the desk and away from the ouija board.

“…are you here with us?” Summer says her name first, while deciding to be the one who asks.

Terry feels himself holding his breath, his chest feels tight as Summer reaches out for the critter to place above the ouija board. She raises her fingers to Terry, who lightly shakes his head, leaving her to do the honors of placing them on the planchette.

Within seconds, Summer’s hands are moving over to: YES.

That makes Terry rub at his goatee, feeling his heart race. He peeks at Summer who already has her eyes on him, “you’re not playing a prank on me are you?”

“I swear I’m not. This is the real deal and if you want proof? Ask her something and I’ll keep my hands off this time.” Summer encourages while Terry starts to bounce his knee.

He thinks about what he should say, anything that he asks and if the planchette moves on its own without Summer’s hands, he just might lose his shit.

“Were you alone when you passed?” Terry struggles to get the words out and Summer squeezes his shoulder, knowing what he’s getting at.

He was on the phone with her just an hour before she died. Terry wasn’t the biggest fan of her driving alone at night but she was dedicated to her job and drove out an hour and forty-five minutes to fight another round to keep the library afloat. If Terry and Mike weren’t swamped with their own business that weekend, he would have taken the drive with her. It went much longer than she expected and Terry encouraged her to just stay at a hotel for the night and take the drive back home in the morning.

There was nothing out of the ordinary on the call, the insomnia started to kick back in again for her recently—which is why she wanted to get the drive over with—and Terry claimed it as stress but she always vouched that it was something else.

Someone else.

He would wake up in the middle night, hearing sharp breaths and when he would roll over to see her face…He knew something was wrong. There were warm tears gliding down her cheeks and majority of the time she would be frozen in fear or fingers scrunched up as she balled up the sheets. They made appointments and medically they couldn’t find anything wrong but of course some sleeping pills were encouraged that she didn’t want to take.

All she kept saying was the figure that lingered in the dark it had a top hat, a hole in its chest, and the blood that dripped from its fingertips always flicked towards her, almost as if it was conducting a symphony, as it came close to the bed before she snapped right out of the paralysis.

The planchette shifts on its own over to: NO.

Terry scoffs out a breath, head wanting to drop as his suspicions came to light. The investigators concluded the crash as an accident but Terry always felt like it was more. They claimed she either fell asleep at the wheel or fell into cardiac arrest first and that’s what led to the collision with the tree but cars just don’t randomly end up on top of trees. Swerving to avoid something else on road was certain but not at this type of impact.

This confirmed it.

Before he can ask more the planchette is moving again to spell out: I-T-S-H-E-R-E-T-O-O.

“Terry?” Summer whispers, picking up on the sound of a piano but Terry relocated her keyboard from the office down to the workshop some time ago, “this didn’t happen with the seance I did for my paw…”

He doesn’t hear the symphony Summer was hearing but he gets a whiff of a smell he’s familiar and loved being intoxicated with. He looks up from his lap and peered over his shoulder, to see her sitting in a rust colored dress on top of the desk with her back to them, “Good thing the person I want to see is already here.”

Good on his part but bad for Summer as she starts to pant at the dark silhouette by the window.

She speaks to Terry, “I told you the sweet dreams don’t happen at night, didn’t i? Now look at what Ms. Summer’s about to see.”

He swallows, locked in only on her because of how radiant she appears as Summer gets to her feet, chair falling behind her while she whips around to let out a scream, which she struggles to cover once she gets sight of what only she and her can see but not Terry.

Taking his eyes off her for a second, Terry gets to his feet as well, reaching out for Summer but her blue-green eyes begin to change to a cloudy milk color as she holds onto her chest, fighting for her breath.

“The fuck is happening?!” Terry yells as he grabs onto Summer’s arms.

The voice that used to be so sweet and loving changes as she floats over to him quickly that if he had been watching he was sure he would have had whiplash, a gush of cold waves over Terry’s frame, almost bringing him to his knees but of course he fights against it, “he’s winning, you welcomed him in.”

There’s a knocking and wiggling of the knobs at the double doors and it sounds like Mike but Terry only feels his body shuddering as Summer slumps over to the side. He catches her before she can hit the ground. Terry still holds onto his friend as they both are lowered to the ground for different actions being done to their bodies. Terry still isn’t able to see what is taking control over Summer but he feels the frigidness of her hands while he tries his best to keep his friend up right.

She’s holding onto his face now, caressing it as her smile is wicked opposed to pleasant. “You can grieve now,” she tells him in a voice that no longer belongs to her.

That’s when the burning happens and Terry is yelling out in pain, using one hand to squeeze at his chest. He’s palming at his shirt, attempting to peel it off but raises it to see her name being carved into his pec.

He’s down on his knees, one arm holding onto a comatose Summer, chest burning and aching with the touch of her. A caress to his cheek allows a tear to spill from both corners of his eye.

A wink, a smile, and the humming of an old classic tune is all that is left but Terry still finds himself reaching out for her, doubling over as she steps back. A hand goes to her chest, patting just where her name is on his own before fading away from his view.

The shuffling of the board can be heard but Terry can’t move from his position as the double doors are yanked back by Mike who runs into the office to his aide.

The ouija board reads: S-W-E-E-T-D-R-E-A-M-S

Once it stops at the last letter, a sweaty Terry feels his eyes close followed by a cold yet gentle kiss upon his cheek.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ 𓉸ྀི ๋࣭ ⭑⚝ 𓉸ྀི ๋࣭ ⭑⚝ 𓉸ྀི ๋࣭ ⭑⚝ 𓉸ྀི ๋࣭ ⭑⚝ 𓉸ྀི ๋࣭

Continue with my October anthology prompts here.