#Let ducks be silly too

[colorfullturtleduck888]

The time has come

Behold, a crosswalk!

I hold the knowledge of crosswalks!!!!

Bonus pic:

[mymarifae]

also veritas and i are on a first name basis now partially because his last name is fucking stupid and i hate calling him "ratio" but mostly because after poking at his character a bunch i've decided i like him quite a lot LMFAO

[lenacopperleaf]

You know what. We’re going full 8u hockey on this situation. I hope next game that Sammy G gets a lot of minutes cause I love him and I want him to be thriving skin glowing crops watered. And I hope Nate gets lots of play time with Jo and Mikko and that the moose line is goofy. I want the roaring 20s line to have a party on the ice with Kivi and LOC looking on wistfully. Gabe can be cheering the team on from the box with EJ (cause I miss him). Georgie pulls a mighty ducks two move and dresses as a dman to score a goal or something idk.

I honestly just want the avs to have a little bit of fun cause…I don’t feel like they’ve been having any fun at all the past two games. And I know it’s their job and it is serious and competitive to them and like yeah no I get it. I want you to be focused for sure. But also like…remember the joy and whimsy? Remember that your job is to play a game professionally? How cool is that?? How special is that? Have fun and be silly guys

[lemonduckisnowawake]

Against my better judgment, I'm posting a concept short story of vampire-christian (2.6k words. Gloriously unedited) I wrote literally yesterday because I think I'm hilarious. Here it is on WordPress if that's easier for some of you.

Actually, while I'm here, as I put on WordPress, ShamelessPlugin time of this kofi. NOT to give me money, by the way, but because I want to support a friend going on a short term missions trip (once that goal is reached, I'll refund the kofi, unless you specify not to). You can help them by sending me a kofi with a prompt or, if you prefer, donating directly to them here or reblogging the donation post I made here.

Anyway! What do I mean by concept short? It means probably not gonna remain canon-canon but it's something I write as basically an exposition dump to establish setting and possible dynamic with minimal narrative meat. So here you go. I love the attention but why must you kill my notes whenever I log on?

The problem with grabbing your blood in the hours no one else did—which is to say, in the burning daylight of afternoon, first day of the week—was that, sometimes, you would run into unexpected difficulties.

It wasn’t anything new to Armaros that the day’s fresh shipment of blood hadn’t arrived yet when he graced the building with his presence. After all, most humans and a good number of supernaturals did their work in the day, so there was no reason to deliver the shipment of fresh blood to the Vida en Bolsa building too early. Especially when most of the creatures who needed it came in after the sun set.

What was new, however, was that this was the time he’d had to wait with the only other person being the new receptionist.

Right now, she was scratching away at a notebook and typing something on the computer behind the reception desk in the small waiting room. It was what she was doing every time he came to Vida en Bolsa, which was every week.

Usually, their interaction would go something like:

“Hello…I’m here to receive my donation…”

“Good afternoon! Good to see you again, Armaros! Yep, your shipment of blood should be here, maybe being unloaded into the fridge, but name and DNI number?”

Short response here.

“Perfect! Just wait here and I’ll go grab it for you!”

He would mutter a thanks, give her the bag where he could carry his blood subtly, and watch as she skirted around the half-circle reception desk and ran to the door opposite far left of the entrance. Then, she’d come back and hand him the bag now heavy with a week’s worth of blood bags.

She’d mutter a cheery, “God bless you!” like it didn’t make Armaros flinch every time, and that would be it.

That was a good routine. Armaros wished that routine could always be kept.

But alas, this was Spain. And even after five-hundred years, the virtue of punctuality was one that they still sorely failed to improve on—maybe it had been a more punctual culture when he was still technically alive, but years in the present had made the far past fade somewhat.

Nevertheless, typical Spanish lateness had been the cause of the apologetic, “Looks like they’ll be late again with today’s shipment” from the receptionist.

Speaking of, actually, Armaros assumed that Chae-ryeong was a receptionist. Or maybe distributer to the beneficiaries would be the right word for it? She seemed to do quite a few other things, if the forms on her computer were anything to go by.

The problem was, every time he walked past the building—which was often, even when not stopping for blood—he would see her form sat at the desk. Daylight or twilight, she was just…there.

Armaros wondered if she ever slept or ate or took breaks. The woman had bags under her eyes as permanent as her half-smile. The hair Armaros assumed was supposedly to be the typical straight, black, and strong East Asian hair was always in a frizzy (and more often than not, greasy) mess. And truth be told, whenever he spoke with her, the scent of her blood seemed to sometimes lack the distinct iron quality that most healthy blood should possess, which wouldn’t be that alarming—anemia signs otherwise—except that she was specifically working at Vida en Bolsa.

Personality wise, Chae-ryeong was the perfect receptionist. Appearance wise, she looked like she’d been run over by one of the delivery trucks he sometimes spotted in the parking lot.

“Hm…” Chae-ryeong suddenly broke the silence.

Five-hundredish years of life had still not trained Armaros to not flinch at the sound of another human voice. Especially when the owner of the voice was looking at him looking at her.

He blinked back, fighting not to break his stare.

“Sorry, did you say something?” Armaros questioned her.

…why did I start a conversation? he yelled internally. Curse me…no. I’m already cursed. I can’t bless me either—wait, she’s saying something.

He could have just pretended to be asleep or something.

Chae-ryeong, still wearing her usual half-smile, shook her head. “No, not technically,” he caught her saying. “I was just wondering at you staring at me, but maybe you were just bored like I was?”

Well, yes. He was bored. But boring was good. Boring was silent and peaceful and—wait, why was she bored?

“…aren’t you working on something though?” he asked her, briefly eyeing the laptop next to her covered in a weird assortment of stickers.

“Well, yes…but it is rather boring,” Chae-ryeong easily replied, the picture of nonchalance. “It’s just some work for another thing I’m doing, anyway. So why were you staring at me? Or were you just bored?”

“I, uh…” Armaros stammered, trying to follow the gunshots of conversation. “I’m not bored? I was just…wondering if you ever slept, since I walk around the neighbourhood a lot and always see you at your desk.”

…that wasn’t rude to say, right?

“Ha! Come on. I’m twenty-four!” Chae-ryeong scoffed, grinning at Armaros. “Uh. I think. BUT ANYWAY! I still have, like, a year left before my brain starts deteriorating. Who needs sleep when you’re young!?”

Armaros wanted to argue that he was five centuries old and still very much needed sleep. But he was the vampire awake in broad daylight—the time he should be sleeping in. Plus, he didn’t know much about human biology now, so…

His mouth didn’t seem to agree with his brain, as he found himself muttering, “Uh…I don’t think that’s how it—never mind.”

“Nah, it’ll be great,” Chae-ryeong assured him. “But yeah…come to think about it, I do work an absurd amount of hours here, don’t I?”

The expectant eye she was giving Armaros withered him a little bit as he felt himself forced to continue the conversation. “Um…how come you work that long?”

Chae-ryeong huffed. “Well, my parents are friends of the managers of this branch of Vida en Bolsa. And after their last few receptionists quit on them, I offered to take the positions until they found someone...s new. It’s great. I can do my master’s homework, be surrounded by blood, talk with vampires that sometimes want to eat me, serve God in some form of ministry, and earn money. Lots of it, too, given how I’m working almost all the shifts.”

“That sounds…unhealthy,” Armaros commented, at loss at what to say.

Was that rude? Judging someone he barely knew?

“Oh, it absolutely is! But if I ever need a blood transfusion, at least I’ll be in good hands with the medics here!” was her cheerful reply.

It was then when Chae-ryeong shut her laptop.

Armaros wanted to die, except he was already dead. Her shutting her laptop means she’s invested in this conversation. Send help, he cried internally.

“That’s…not really what I meant—hey, are you anemic?” he suddenly asked, catching a whiff of her scent with his enhanced senses. “Oh, uh. I ask because you always smell slightly less…metallic than most people.”

The woman rested her arms on the desk, tapping her fingers and wheeling her chair slightly back and forth, attention all on him. “Ooh…so vampires can smell that. Some of the others who come in the night shift tell me that too, but yeah, I am.”

“Doesn’t that make working here…unsafe? Hungry vampires can be…” he trailed off, forgetting the word he wanted to use to express the state of hungry vampires. He sunk deeper in his chair, knowing he should just stand and make the short trek to one of the chairs nearer to the reception desk but…not wanting to.

Well, Chae-ryeong seemed comfortable where she was as well, atrocious posture and all. And she didn’t seem to mind their distance either as she bobbed her head. “Yep! But who ever said ministry was safe?”

“Erm…”

Armaros didn’t really get it, but Christians—Catholic, Orthodox, Protestant, whatever other thing there was these days that believed in the triune God and the cross and resurrection thing—they were a weird lot. After all, they were the first group to establish a blood donation system for the supernaturals who needed it despite their entire nature being lethal to his kind.

“Well…if it works for you, I guess,” he passively answered back.

“It does! I usually can take short naps during the slow hours. Most of the vampires already know me now and are nice enough to wake me up if I oversleep,” Chae-ryeong blissfully blabbered on.

“Can you even oversleep in your current lifestyle?” Armaros asked doubtfully.

“Yep! I usually get four good hours, but sometimes I overshoot to seven or eight from morning till afternoon!”

“…I see.”

“What about you? You’re pretty much the only Monday daylight regular,” Chae-ryeong offered him a question, something Armaros really hadn’t needed. “I mean, you say you see me when you stroll around, but I also see you a lot out in the sun. Isn’t that unsafe?”

“Yes…it is,” Armaros said, struggling to explain. “But…I enjoy taking walks…especially to stores. They’re never open in the night.”

“Ah…right. Why don’t you move to the nearby city, then?” Chae-ryeong suggested. Armaros noticed her head still bobbing slightly from earlier. “Places like Valencia have most of their establishments open at night for the nocturnal supernaturals. Smaller cities like ours don’t have lots of those, though I think we have a good number of them! I know the center has almost all the stores and the major groceries open in the twilight hours, at least.”

“…well, it’s not something that appealed to me.”

“Makes sense to me!” Chae-ryeong accepted easily.

They lapsed into silence, with Armaros aware that Chae-ryeong was looking at him, as if desperately wanting to ask a question. Sometimes, he wished he hadn’t become more aware of social cues…

“Sorry. I’m not great with conversations,” he said. “But…do you want to ask something?”

Chae-ryeong perked up, at least as much as one could without changing the permanent expression on their face. “Actually, yeah! But it might be rude…most of the vampires I’ve asked weren’t really willing to answer…or even let me ask when I mentioned it pertained to Christianity. Can I ask it anyway?”

No???

“Sure…this is a mission, after all.”

Why was he this way?

Well, she seemed happy at the allowance? Maybe? Again. Hard to tell.

 “To be honest, I just kind of am curious about how the whole Christianity thing and vampires works. I know vampires stay away from churches and the whole lot because, well, it literally hurts their very being. But like…I don’t know. A vampire classmate and friend of mine were talking and she’s always wondered how things would have gone if she’d lived during the time of Christ and had bit Him, capital H.”

…I’m having hearing issues, right? Armaros told himself. There was no way the receptionist had just—

He straightened, if only to lean forward and ask the woman, “Sorry?”

“…it’s a weird question, isn’t it?” Chae-ryeong acknowledged. And if she wasn’t wearing her polite half-smile, it would have sounded apologetic, but she was wearing it and the acknowledgment sounded too…nonchalant?

“I, uh…no. I’m really asking,” Armaros said, just to save himself the trouble of trying to admit anything.

“Oh, then my question was about—well, I don’t know if you believe in God, actually. But Christian items still hurt you, right? So…say you do. What would have happened if you had bitten Jesus Christ while He lived and drunk His holy blood.”

…huh.

This was a bit of a belated observation, but the new receptionist—new being relative given that she’d already been here for nearly two months—was insane, wasn’t she?

“I, uh…well.”

Chae-ryeong nodded in understanding. “Yeah. That’s about the response of the other vampires willing to consider the question.”

She didn’t seem disappointed, either. If anything, she looked resigned. And Armaros dearly wanted to ask, “Resigned to what?! What are you resigned to?! What kind of crazy question is that, woman? I just want my week’s worth of blood, please! Please don’t make me change to a 42-days shipment order!”

But he didn’t say any of that because he knew better.

Rather, Armaros did his best to sit back properly and meet Chae-ryeong’s curious dark eyes, glinting in the summer evening sunlight with…something expectant, maybe? With that, he found his mouth opening without his permission again.

“Well, most vampires believe in God. The ones who don’t, uh…don’t really end up living that long, to be honest. Some out of spite, others because they don’t really…take precautions for their safety. Some are still alive, I mean,” Armaros explained, feeling more and more self-conscious and doing his best not to pray (lethal idea) for the blood delivery truck to come already.

“The thing is, we don’t have…faith in God, you know? That might kill us, after all,” Armaros explained. His smile wasn’t too strained, was it? “So we just…I mean. I’ve never thought of that question? Maybe it would have killed us? I mean, I’m pretty sure a true Christian’s blood is lethal to us, so—”

“Wait, what?” Chae-ryeong interrupted him, her smile dropping for the first time in the conversation.

The change in expression was enough to throw Armaros into silence.

She didn’t seem to mind, as she continued. “What was that about Christians’ blood being lethal to a vampire?”

The question was enough to prompt the vampire to speak again, stammering out, “Uh…oh. Um. Yeah. Cause…I think it’s some theological principle?” He honestly knew even less about it.

A lightbulb seemed to light up over Chae-ryeong’s head, or maybe that was the setting sun—hang on, didn’t that mean it was nearly 9PM?

Armaros subtly tried to glance at the big owl-shaped clock on the wall in the reception area, which did confirm his suspicion that he’d been here almost an hour and a half.

“Well, huh…I guess now I know why that threat worked,” he thought he heard Chae-ryeong mutter to herself.

That…definitely didn’t sound like it was meant to be said aloud, so he simply decided to let it go.

“Hello?” another voice startled them out of their musings.

They both turned to the speaker, a woman who looked to be in her late thirties—brown hair, Mediterranean complexion, healthy blood, maybe recently sick, also carrying a clipboard.

Chae-ryeong’s smile immediately returned as she waved out her greeting. “Hi, Sandra! How are you?”

The woman smiled at Chae-ryeong, slightly false but not unkindly. “Very tired. Sorry about the delivery being so late today. Do you want some help unloading it?”

“Oh, sorry to hear that. I hope you can go home to rest.”

“I know I will!”

“And now, don’t worry about unloading. Carla, Leo, and Adele are already taking care of it, see?”

Three pairs of gazes turned outside to see an older woman and two youths in their twenties starting to unload crates from the white and red truck parked just in front of the entrance. One of the women—Adele, Armaros recognized from her dirty blonde hair—waved when she spotted their gazes.

Armaros just stared ahead, like he hadn’t seen them.

Honestly, he didn’t think he could take any more interaction at this point. Thank…not God. But thank goodness that he could now move on from this evening.

“Armaros, do you want your blood delivery now?” Chae-ryeong’s voice interrupted his relief.

He tensed again and nodded. “Thanks, yes.”

[mumms-the-word]

listen ima say it too many of y’all write Halsin like a big serious daddy dom with no humor and not nearly enough of you are writing him as a silly willy nilly ol’ bear

please he is canonically a big fan of nature puns and dancing like a dad at a barbecue and being a big goof

let that man laugh and be goofy I beg you he loves ducks and bedtime stories and playing games and being silly and he deserves to smile more

[pucksandpower]

Rockabye Baby

Oscar Piastri x Reader

Summary: you and Oscar take the next step in building your family … just not in the way that anyone expected

Note: I really wanted to get something silly and cute posted for Mother’s Day — and so this was born! I hope you have as much fun reading this as I did writing it 🫶

You snuggle closer to Oscar in bed, resting your head on his chest as his fingers lazily trail up and down your arm. It’s been an exhausting few weeks on the road, with races back-to-back, but these quiet moments together make it all worth it.

“Osc?” You murmur sleepily. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, babe.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Anything.”

You hesitate, not sure if you should broach the subject. But you’ve been together for years now, surely he’s thought about it too? “Have you ever, you know … thought about having kids?”

Oscar tenses slightly, his fingers stilling on your skin. “Kids?”

“Yeah.” You prop yourself up on one elbow to study his face. “We’re not getting any younger. And I know racing is your whole life, but … I don’t know, I think you’d make an amazing dad.”

A small smile plays at the corners of his mouth. “You do, huh?” His fingers resume their gentle stroking along your arm. “I can’t lie, the idea terrifies me. All the responsibility, the pressure ...” He blows out a long breath. “But with you by my side? I think we could make it work.”

Hope blooms in your chest and you lean in to kiss him, long and lingering. “Really? You mean that?”

“Well, not right this second.” He chuckles, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “But someday? Definitely.”

You beam at him, buzzing with a childlike excitement you haven’t felt in years. “Oscar Piastri, future father. I can’t wait.”

He pulls you close, tucking you under his chin. “Me neither. Now get some rest, yeah? Big day tomorrow.”

You hum contentedly, letting his steady heartbeat lull you toward sleep. Kids with Oscar … you can’t imagine anything better.

A few days later, you’re curled up on the sofa after a long day of work, idly scrolling through your phone while Oscar pads around the flat. He’s been oddly restless and fidgety all evening, but you’ve learned not to question his little quirks. He’ll open up when he’s ready.

“So,” he begins, sinking onto the couch beside you with an adorably nervous expression. “You know how the other night you mentioned, um … wanting to be a mum someday?”

You perk up instantly, setting your phone aside as your pulse kicks up a notch. “Yeah?”

“Well.” He ducks his head shyly, then pulls something from behind his back — a small, smooth rock, painted in garish shades of papaya. “I got you this.”

You blink at him. “A … rock?”

“It’s our baby!” He thrusts it toward you proudly. “See, I’m the dad now. Taking those first steps.”

A startled laugh bubbles up from your chest. “Oscar, you dork. That’s the cutest, most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Too much?” He grimaces, though his eyes are twinkling with barely contained mirth. “I just thought, you know, we could start small. Get used to the idea before, uh, before anything bigger.”

“Oh my god, I love you.” You take the rock from his hand, cradling it tenderly as you peck his cheek. “Hi there, little guy. Hope you don’t mind a slightly non-traditional family.”

“Not at all.” Oscar drapes his arm around your shoulders as you lean into his side. “We’ll just raise him to be open-minded and accepting. Like his mum.”

“His mum who gave birth to him in pebble form, you mean?”

Oscar shrugs unapologetically. “He’ll be the talk of the playground.”

You dissolve into helpless giggles, nestling even closer. “This is certifiably insane, you know that? I can’t believe we’re grown adults playing house with a pet rock.”

“Hey, don’t knock it till you try it.” Oscar nuzzles into the crook of your neck, warm and solid against you. “We’re new parents. We can do whatever we want.”

Over the next few days, Rocky, as you’ve lovingly dubbed him, becomes a constant presence. You bring him along when you travel to the next race, introducing him proudly to the team. Lando takes one look and bursts out laughing.

“What the bloody hell is that thing?”

“Our son,” Oscar says with a straight face. “Would you like to meet your nephew?”

“You two are properly mental.” But there’s an unmistakable fondness in Lando’s smile as he gently pokes at Rocky. “S’pose he takes after his dad, eh?”

You crack up at the offended look on Oscar’s face. “Oh, trust me, I’ll be handling most of the heavy lifting around here.”

From there, it only escalates. Rocky gets his own tiny race suit, his own seat in Oscar’s car (firmly buckled in, of course — safety first). You find yourself referring to him with increasingly outlandish endearments.

“Here, let me get the handsomest stone in the whole wide world a bottle before we try tummy time.”

“How’s my little pebble today? Did you sleep okay in your bassinet?”

Logan nearly falls over laughing the first time he sees Rocky strapped into a miniature car seat on the plane between races.

“You guys are too much, man.” He shakes his head in bewildered amusement. “Where do you even find stuff like that?”

Oscar smirks. “Parents have their ways.”

The joke takes on a life of its own, morphing from a silly gag into a full-blown inside joke, an ever-present reminder that someday, when you’re both ready, you really will have a baby of your own to dote on. For now, though, raising Rocky together is more than enough.

It really hits you one evening as the team celebrates Oscar’s latest podium finish. You’re sitting with a small group, letting the lively chatter of friends and team members wash over you, when you become aware of Oscar sitting across from you. He’s got Rocky nestled in the crook of his elbow, cooing nonsense as he gently jostles him.

“Who’s a good little guy? You are, that’s who. Gonna grow up big and strong like your dad, yeah?” His expression is so tender, so achingly soft, that you feel your heart swell fit to burst.

He’s going to be an incredible father someday, you realize with a jolt of startling clarity. Look at how natural it comes to him, how happy and content he seems, just cradling that silly rock.

Later that night, you find yourself curled around Oscar in bed, trailing feather-light kisses along the line of his throat. He hums deep in his chest, tangling one hand in your hair to tug you closer.

“Mmm, what was that for?”

“Nothing.” You prop your chin on his chest, drinking in the achingly handsome lines of his face. “You just … you’re gonna be such an amazing dad, you know that?”

A bashful smile tugs at his lips as his free hand smooths along the curve of your hip. “Yeah? You really think so?”

“I know so.” You reach out to trace the sharp line of his jaw with one fingertip. “Any kid would be lucky to have you.”

Oscar’s gaze softens to molten gold in the dim light. “Not nearly as lucky as we are to have you. You’re the best mum Rocky could’ve asked for.”

He kisses you then, deep and searing, pulling you flush against him as the world around you falls away. And when he finally breaks away, breathless but beaming, you know without a shadow of a doubt:

Whenever the time comes, whenever you meet your real baby … everything is going to be okay. More than okay.

Because you’ll have Oscar by your side, just like always. Your partner, your best friend, and the love of your life.

***

Five Years Later

You cradle your newborn daughter to your chest, gazing down at her perfect little face in pure wonderment. It’s only been a few hours since she made her entrance into the world, but you’re already hopelessly in love.

“She’s beautiful,” Oscar murmurs, voice thick with unshed tears as he brushes one reverent fingertip along her downy cheek. “Just like her mum.”

You lean into him, overcome. This right here — the two of you and your brand new baby girl — is everything you’ve ever wanted. All those years of loving Oscar, of dreaming about starting a family together … it was all leading to this shining moment.

A soft knock at the door breaks the tranquil silence. Oscar shoots you a quizzical look as a familiar face pokes his head in.

“This a bad time?” Lando grins crookedly. “I come bearing gifts for the little one.”

“Lando!” You can’t help but beam at the sight of your friend. “Get in here, you muppet.”

He slips inside, toeing off his shoes with a cheeky wink in your direction. “Well someone’s in a good mood. Can’t imagine why.”

“Are you kidding? I’m amazing. Completely knackered, but amazing.” You gesture for him to come closer with your free hand. “Here, come meet Oscar’s little co-driver.”

Lando’s expression melts into something unbearably soft as he peers down at the tiny bundle in your arms. “Aww, mate … she’s perfect. Well done, you two.”

“Do you, uh ...” Oscar clears his throat gruffly. “D’you want to hold her?”

For a moment, Lando looks almost scared, like a deer caught in the headlights. Then he nods jerkily, settling into the bedside chair with surprising care as you transfer your daughter into his arms. He cradles her close with the utmost tenderness, rocking her ever so slightly as she lets out the faintest sigh.

“Look at you,” he breathes, sounding utterly besotted already. “Just a teeny little thing, aren’t you?”

It’s like seeing an entirely different side of him, one you never could have anticipated. Not the cheeky, irreverent joker you’ve known for years, but a man, a friend, wholly disarmed by new life and possibility. You exchange a look with Oscar, heart fit to bursting.

“So,” Lando continues, still totally entranced by the baby. “I know we ribbed you mercilessly for a while there about the whole rock baby thing ...”

Your mouth falls open in recollection. “Lando, please don’t-”

But he’s already reaching into his jacket pocket to pull out a familiar splash of textured papaya. “But there’s no way I’d let my favorite nephew miss out on this.”

Rocky, battered and faded but unmistakable, sits nestled in Lando’s palm. You nearly choke on a startled laugh.

“Are you kidding me right now?”

“Hold up, there’s more.” Lando somehow manages to keep cradling the baby with one arm as he bends down with the other, hauling a plastic bucket onto the bed. You gape at the contents — dozens upon dozens of smooth pebbles, each one lovingly decorated in bright shades of orange.

“Had to get the whole family involved, didn’t I?” Lando says with a shameless grin. “She’s got loads of brothers and sisters to look after her now.”

You swat at him in a flood of exasperated affection. “You absolute prick. Look at you, being all sentimental.”

“Me? Never.” But the shine of unshed tears in his eyes contradicts the words. He transfers the baby back to you with exaggerated care, then takes a moment to stroke one gentle finger along her tiny cheek. “You’ve got one hell of a village behind you, little one.”

Over the next short while, Lando pulls up a chair and regales you all with outrageous stories and anecdotes, all while Rocky and his “siblings“ make the rounds, passed from person to person like favorite old friends. At one point, Oscar’s cradling your human baby in one arm and your original baby rock in the other, murmuring nonsense to them both as you blink back tears for what feels like the thousandth time that day.

“Look at you,” you say in awe, drinking in the sight. “My little family.”

Oscar meets your gaze over the top of your daughter’s head, his own eyes shining. “Our family,” he corrects softly.

You’re still reveling in that realization when a quiet knock sounds at the door. A nurse bustles in with an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry, but we’re going to need to move the baby to the nursery soon. Just for a little while to let mum rest.”

Oh. You clutch your daughter closer on instinct, chest caving with an aching reluctance you weren’t expecting. How can you possibly bear to let her go already?

But then Lando slips an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a warm embrace. “Oi, it’s alright. We’ll keep an eye on her for you, yeah? Give Uncle Lando and Mini Piastri some quality time.”

Rocky sits nestled in his other palm, as stalwart and patient as ever even after all these years. You nod quickly, swiping at your damp cheeks as you kiss your daughter’s downy head one last time before relinquishing her to the nurse.

“I’ll be right back, sweet girl. Don’t go growing too much while I’m gone.”

Watching her get wheeled away is harder than you could have imagined, like a physical ache in your chest. Oscar wraps you up in his arms from behind, steadying you with his usual quiet strength.

“She’s okay, babe,” he murmurs, lips brushing your hairline. “She’s just down the hall. We’re not going anywhere.”

You let his soothing words wash over you, turning into his embrace until your breathing evens out again. First lesson of parenthood learned — this part’s not easy. But you’ll get through it, just like everything else, with Oscar by your side.

Rocky sits on the bedside table, bold colors slightly faded but message as bright and clear as ever. A reminder that sometimes, the smallest, silliest things can take on the biggest meaning when it comes to family.

“Alright lovebirds,” Lando pipes up, slinging an arm around each of your shoulders. “What d’you say we bring the whole crew down to see the little miss soon, eh? Give her many uncles a chance to swoon all over her?”

You manage a watery chuckle, leaning into Lando’s side as Oscar tucks himself against your other side. Because this? This little patchwork family you’ve built around yourselves, kept close through all the chaos and the years? This is what it’s all about. The fierce loyalty, the bond forged by adversity and triumph and teamwork. The family you’ve chosen over and over again, year after year, through all of life’s twists and turns.

Your eyes drift to Rocky, resting quietly on the nightstand by your hospital bed. Once an inside joke, a silly gift from your husband to make you smile. Now a treasured heirloom, a precious mascot for the latest member of your ever-expanding clan.

Maybe you’ll hold onto that little rock for another few decades, you muse, draping one arm around Oscar’s trim waist. Long enough for your daughter — and any other little ones who may eventually join her — to grow up passing him between chubby baby fists. Long enough for your grandchildren to gather around and listen to stories about.

“Come on then,” you’ll say with an indulgent smile. “Let Granny tell you the story of Rocky. How he was the very first baby in our little family ...”

***

r/offmychest

u/NumberOneRockHater · 9h

My parents and entire family are convinced a ROCK is my older brother!

Okay, I have to get this off my chest because it’s been driving me crazy for years. My parents and extended family are all obsessed with this rock that they insist is my older brother “Rocky” (ugh, I know).

I’m talking full-on delusion levels here. Ever since before I was born, my dad got my mom this painted rock as a joke “baby”. Well, the joke escalated to the point where they started taking this rock everywhere, dressing it up in little outfits, calling it “him”, the whole nine yards.

At first I thought it was just a weird little quirk, you know? Silly but harmless. Except it never stopped. I’m 16 years old now and my PARENTS STILL REFER TO THIS ROCK AS MY SIBLING.

It’s always “Where’s your brother?” and “Did you pack Rocky’s bag for our trip?” and “Don’t forget to wish your brother a happy birthday!” My uncle (who is the WORST enabler) will show up to every family event pulling more painted rocks out of his pockets like “Look, more kids for you guys!”

Meanwhile I’m just standing there like a crazy person. How is nobody else concerned that my entire family has deluded themselves into believing a literal inanimate object is a sentient being?

And the real kicker? This dumb rock has been passed around and adored more than me, an actual human child. I have clear memories of being like 6 years old and my parents getting legitimately UPSET at me for dropping Rocky on the ground. While I’m standing right there!

My dad loves telling this stupid story about the day I was born, how my uncle showed up at the hospital like “I brought the baby’s siblings!” and pulled out an entire bucket of painted pebbles. PEBBLES, PEOPLE. As my “brothers and sisters”?

I’m honestly losing my mind here. No matter how much I protest or roll my eyes, they always play it off as a silly inside joke. Like yeah, I’m sure getting your knickers in a twist over my lack of acknowledgment for THE ROCK YOU NAMED AND CLAIM IS MY SIBLING is a totally normal thing to do! My mum actually teared up the last time I put my foot down, saying she could never abandon her “firstborn.” Um, hello? I was the firstborn, you weirdos!

At this point, I have to assume that either A) My parents and family are all certifiable and living in a shared psychosis, or B) This is some sort of Truman Show situational prank that I’m not in on.

Is it too late to be adopted by a normal family? Or do I need to be the one committed for dealing with this nonsense?

Please tell me I’m not actually going insane here. Anybody else have a family this completely deluded?

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u/NosyAndProud · 8h

LOL no way, your family sounds hilarious! I’m dying at the image of your poor teen self dealing with this ongoing rocky sibling chronicle. But in their defense, you’ve gotta admit it’s a pretty creative way to memorialize a dumb inside joke, right?

My advice? Lean into it. Get your big brother an outfit for the next family gathering. Play fight with “him” in front of your friends and horrify them. TP the house and blame it on Rocky’s delinquent behavior. The possibilities for messing with everyone are endless!

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Reply from u/NumberOneRockHater · 6h

I’m honestly crying, your suggestions have me wheezing! Although if I DID embrace this, I’m pretty sure my uncle would lose his mind. He’s already brought enough “rock siblings” for an entire pebble daycare at this point.

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u/JudgingLoudly · 7h

This is sending me! I’m just imagining you as a little kid, trying to argue with your parents about why inanimate objects can’t actually be siblings. And them being full-on “Well ackshually, this is Rocky your brother” 🤓☝️

But also lowkey it’s kinda sweet? I mean objectifying nonliving things is usually a bad idea (see every Disney movie ever). But if it’s just a quirky tradition that brings your family joy and makes them feel special, who are we to judge? You only get one weird childhood!

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Reply from u/NumberOneRockHater · 5h

Yes, exactly! It was always “But Rocky will be so disappointed if you don’t share your toys with him!” Like … what?

And don’t get me wrong, they’re wonderful parents and we’re a very close, loving family. That’s what makes this particular shared psychosis so baffling! Just a big ol’ collective break from reality to obsess over this stupid rock, I guess.

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u/LiveForDrama · 4h

Ok but real talk, I would give ANYTHING to have been a fly on the wall when your uncle first unveiled the “siblings” 💀 I’m picturing this grown man deadass pulling pebbles out of his pockets and ceremoniously announcing “Here’s baby Pumice, and little Granite, and this one is called Basalt ...”

And your parents were just like “Why, HELLO THERE LITTLE ONES! WHAT DELIGHTFUL NEW ADDITIONS TO OUR BROOD!” Just … no questions asked. No commentary on the total insanity. God, I love families.

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Reply from u/NumberOneRockHater · 3h

You have NO idea. I still have flashbulb memories of being like 10 years old, walking into the living room to find my GROWN-ASS UNCLE lying on the floor, lining up those idiotic pebbles and introducing them one by one.

Meanwhile my dad is on the couch COOING at them and having full-on conversations like “Isn’t that right, little fella? Your uncle just loves to spoil you, doesn’t he?” MY BRAIN COULD NOT COMPUTE.

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u/GlassHalfFull · 2h

Ok, gotta say … as someone raised by very boring, no-nonsense parents, I’m just a lil bit jealous of the sheer unrestrained WHIMSY your family has cultivated here.

Like, you’ll always have this hilarious shared experience to look back on! Sure it’s a rock, but it’s THEIR rock, you know? That’s beautiful in a weird way. At least your childhood wasn’t mind-numbing evenings full of tax documents and khaki pantsuits?

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Reply from u/NumberOneRockHater · 1h

Haha, you make a good point! I definitely can’t say my childhood was dull, that’s for sure. Although I do have traumatic memories of losing Rocky at a rest stop when I was 5, and my parents freaking out for hours until we found him under a vending machine. Totally normal.

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[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x fem!reader [2.1K]

Jealousy, reassurance and Steve. Prompts: “why didn’t you tell me where you were?” And “I’m not being overdramatic.” Was this supposed to be a 500 word prompt? Yes, we don’t talk about it.

You hated it, you hated it, you hated it.

It was a gross feeling, an awful sensation that felt thick like tar, clinging to your chest, enough of it to make you ache and feel heavy. It crawled up your throat, making you feel too hot and by the time you’d spotted your boyfriend in the food court, standing talking to a pretty blonde girl, the lunch you’d brought him had went cold in your hand.

Anxiety? Perhaps not. Jealousy? You hated that that emotion seemed to sit better on your tongue, bitterly so.

And when Steve waited for you in his car later, the engine running and the heating on full so it was warm enough for you, jealousy still clung to you in an ugly way.

“Hey, babe,” Steve greeted as you slumped into the passenger seat. He was reading the back of a new cassette tape, absent minded as he scratched off the price sticker and leaned over to give you a kiss. He didn’t seem to notice - or mind - that you turned and gave him your cheek. “How was work?”

You hummed, non committal and fussed with your bag, pushing it down into the footwell. “Was fine,” you mumbled. “Yours?”

You wondered if this was when Steve admitted to rendezvousing with a girl in secret, if he’d try to deny it. The logical part of your brain told you that there was absolutely nothing secret about meeting someone in the middle of the busy food court on a Saturday afternoon, but the jealous bubble that had grown inside of you was having none of it. It grew and grew, a blue-green ball that took up all the cracks and crevices between your ribs until it felt like you’d burst from the pressure.

Steve was backing out of the parking space, his arm thrown around your headrest and he nodded, eyes on the rear window. “Yeah, yeah, it was alright. Got busy after lunch so it wasn’t too slow, y’know?”

“Right.” You nodded, suddenly finding breathing a weary task. Your throat was tight, your eyes hot. Lunch. “I, uh— I came to visit you on mine. My lunch.”

Steve blinked, chancing a quick glance at you now he was on the straight road back to Hawkins. He blinked in surprise. “You did? I hate that I missed you, babe, m’sorry.” His hand found your knee and squeezed. “I must’ve been in the back or something.”

You didn’t say anything. Not for a few minutes. Because Steve was your first real relationship you didn’t know the rules and you didn’t know what to say and you’d never, ever experienced the kind of fizzing, hot dread that was clawing at your throat—

“Did you go out at lunch?”

Steve turned to look at you once more, a fleeting glance with knitted brows and a small, if not unsure, smile on his face. You were being weird. Your voice was quieter than normal, soft and formal all at once and you hadn’t put your hand over his as it sat on your knee still.

“Yeah,” he told you, wondering why you asked. “I forgot mine at home, ran to the food court and grabbed some fries.” His thumb rubbed over you. “Must’ve been when I missed you, huh?”

“Mmm,” you hummed again, head ducked, fingers tangled in your lap. Steve was frowning. “Did you go back to the store? After?”

“What?” It was becoming harder to concentrate on the road. The street lights flickered to life as the evening set in and the orange-white glow of them made the wet in your eyes shine. Steve was alarmed, wondering why on earth you looked like you were close to tears. “Baby— after I got my fries? I mean, yeah?”

Steve would’ve almost missed the way your bottom lip trembled if he hadn’t slowed for the stop sign. “Honey? What? What’s going on?”

You broke then, watery eyes and lip tucked between your teeth as you tried not to let out the audible sob that was stuck in your throat. It was a silly thing, to feel such intense emotions, especially over a scenario you knew little about, but that heavy feeling had clawed at your chest all day and you felt smaller than you ever had, too hot and itchy to be in your own skin and something - somehow - had to get out—

“Baby,” Steve was more than alarmed now, wide eyed as he pulled over to the side of the road, the wheel turning dramatically in his hands as he killed the engine and unbuckled his belt. “Baby, what is it, huh? C’mon, talk to me—“

He was leaning over the console to you, brown eyes shining with concern as one big hand chased your wet cheek, pushing at you softly until you lifted your chin for him. Steve made a soft noise at the sight of you, glassy eyed and huffing as you tried to tamper down your shaky breaths.

“What’s wrong?”

“Why didn’t you tell me where you were?” It wasn’t what you had planned to say, but it was the only thing that made it past your lips in the moment.

The boy’s face crumbled in confusion, brows creased. “At lunch? I did…what?”

You sniffed, immediately feeling silly but you were too far gone, too deep in. You swiped hastily as your cheeks, too meanly for Steve’s liking and he chased your fingers with much kinder ones.

“You said you went back to the store,” your breath hitched, a shuddering thing as you pulled in a gasp of air. God, this was so silly, this was so stupid. Your body burned. “After your lunch— you said you went back.”

Steve looked at you a little plainly, the little gears that most men had in their heads whirring into overdrive. He looked confused, grasping at your words and trying to decipher what they meant. “Yeah?” He tried weakly.

“But I saw you,” another hiccup, another fresh tear that you managed to catch before Steve did and the boy frowned deeper when you pulled your face away from his touch. “I saw you in the food court, you were talking to a girl.”

You were very aware of how childish the sentence was as it left your lips. But you were tired, defeated. You’d held onto the jealousy and fear and anxiety all day and now that it was out, you were exhausted, shoulders slumping and mouth twisted into a pout that Steve really wanted to be able to kiss away.

But recognition settled over him at your words and his lips fell into a small ‘o’ of understanding. He tried not to smile, he really did, knowing how much it would upset you further, so he pressed his lips together and nodded before speaking.

“You saw me with Tammy Thomson.” It wasn’t a question.

You sniffed and shrugged, suddenly playing indifference now you knew the blondes name.

“Baby,” Steve tried again, bringing his hand back up to sweep along your jaw, his thumb pushing gently against your cheek. It was a fond touch, dripping in affection and you so wanted to lean into it. “She was an old school friend.”

You scoffed. You might have not went to Hawkins High like Steve had, but you’d had enough conversations with Robin and Eddie to know the list of people that had crushed hard on Steve. Tammy Thomson’s name had come up on serval occasions.

“You weren’t going to tell me you ran into her?” You mumbled, staring at your skirt.

Steve floundered for a second, lips moving without sound as he tried to find the right words before settling on the honest to gods truth. “I actually kinda forgot.” He shrugged, apologetic. “I wasn’t thinking about it. It, uh, it wasn’t an important part of my day, y’know?”

Embarrassment washed over you in a hot, sticky curtain, leaving you just as teary as before. You hated what you were insinuating with your words, what you were accidentally accusing Steve of. He wasn’t trying to hide anything from you, despite what your brain had told you all day. He hadn’t done anything wrong.

“God— urgh,” your eyes watered again but you squeezed the heel of each palm to them before the tears could fall. Stupid, stupid, stupid. “I, I’m sorry. Can you take me home? Please.”

The car drop sat at the side of the road, the inside cooler now the engine wasn’t running and you hated the idea of someone you knew driving by and seeing your tear stricken face - or worse, thinking that at this was the spot you’d chosen to make out with your boyfriend.

Although, you’d much prefer that right now.

“Hey, hey,” Steve’s voice was achingly soft and closer than before as he moved in. His hands found your wrists and gently pulled them away from your face, easing the pressure you’d put on your poor, swollen eyes. “C’mon now, talk to me? Please?”

You blinked as the world and the boy came back into view, lip still trembling and you felt too soft, too delicate, way too vulnerable. Steve’s gaze was just as gentle though, kinder than you thought you deserved.

“I shouldn’t have—“

Accused? Spied? You weren’t sure what you were going to say but Steve interrupted you regardless. “Wanna know what I was thinking about?” His thumbs stroked over the soft skin on the inside of your wrists as he held them between you both. He didn’t wait for an answer. “You.”

You could’ve cried again if Steve had let you, but he seemed to sense the stuttering of your chest and he smiled, a little teasing, a lot loving. “You, fries - of course, how much I hate my boss, where I wanted to take you out for dinner tomorrow, how I heard about this new movie I thought you’d like.”

Adoration filled the cavernous space your jealousy had once been.

“I think about you a lot,” Steve told you, grimacing playfully like it was something shameful and secretive. It made you smile, head falling forward to rest against your joined hands. “It’s sick, actually, right?”

You nodded, face still hidden and joining in on the joke because you didn’t know what else to do or say. Not in the car at least. Maybe, you thought, when you got back home you’d invite the boy in and cover him in kisses. Apologetic ones, loving ones, doting ones, from head to toe if you had to.

“You okay?” He asked, more serious now. “Can you look at me?”

How could say no?

You lifted your head and Steve tutted, lips pressed thin as he took in your puffy eyes and tear streaked cheeks. He used your hands in his to wipe away the damp tracks, so much softer than you’d done before, making you treat yourself with so much more care and kindness.

He raised his brows, waiting on an answer.

“I’m okay,” your voice was raspy from emotion and you coughed, embarrassed. “Steve, I’m sorry.”

Steve shook his head shrugging. “It’s okay. Just— just talk to me next time, yeah? Don’f tiptoe around what’s making you sad, babe. I wanna be able to fix it for you.”

You nodded, still aching with all the emotion, both good and bad. The self conscious side of you couldn’t help but ask, “do you think I was being overdramatic?”

Steve’s lip quirked up, something he managed to tame quickly. He frowned, leaning in to press a kiss at your hot cheek. “You?” He murmured into your skin, nose pressed to the soft skin by your mouth. “Overdramatic? My crybaby? Since when?”

There was laughter laced in his words, a light teasing you’d taken months to get used to but you recognised it for what it was. Fondness, familiarity, a way to break the heavy tension and make you smile.

So you did, lips lifting and brows crinkling all at the same time. “I’m not being overdramatic!” You watched Steve grin as he started the car again, looking both ways before pulling back into the lane. “I thought— I thought you were—”

“What?” Steve glanced at you, grinning. He caught your hand and lifted it to his lips, stamping a kiss on the back of it and held it on your lap, not letting go. “You thought I was gonna get my fries and runaway with Tammy Thomson? Never to return?”

You didn’t say anything, you just say back in the chair and tried not to pout, because, yeah, that’s exactly what you thought. You just hated how stupid it sounded coming from someone’s mouth and not your own head.

“And leave you?” Steve tutted, head shaking as he kept up the playful tone. There was a lot of love on his eyes when he looked over at you. “Baby, c’mon now.”

[mournings-stars]

Maybe the wrapping wings around heddies but the reader wraps their wings around the characters?

okay i rly like this but what about with characters that don’t have wings?? (lmk if yall want characters w wings cus this is kinda silly funny haha)

charlie

she loves when your wings wrap around her — every time she hugs you, she’s waiting for that extra warmth and when it comes she just hugs you even tighter

she wouldn’t ask you to do it, but if you put a wing around her in public she’s trying not to get too excited

cuddling is a must for wings. you’re sitting on the couch? she wants a nice feathery blanket. lying in bed? same thing. watching a scary movie? she’s using your wings as a shield to duck under anytime theres a jump scare

if you asked her if she’d like a wing, she’s the happiest you’ve ever seen her

“im starting to wonder if you’re just dating me for my wings,” you’d joke and she’d laugh and say, “they’re definitely a plus” while running her finger over the top of one (this girl likes to tease i know it)

she loves when you cuddle up to her and wrap your wings around her, like she just melts

she does not let anyone play with them. ever. if niffty tried to go scurrying around them, she’s taking her away faster than she can blink

your wings are hers as much as they are yours, but that’s a silent rule between you two that she doesn’t plan on voicing

she just gives “let me be your wings” from thumbelina vibes like you would have a duet like that

alastor

now if you ever need to gossip, he’s clearing his throat and you’re shielding your conversation with your wings while you two laugh and whisper

he does not want anyone touching him but if you put a wing around him he knows you guys have some important business to talk about

sometimes you throw up your wing, whisper, and he has to stop himself from laughing when you quickly put your wing down, alastor batting it with his microphone as you laughed

now if he’s ever hurt, that’s when your wings go around him, making sure no one sees so he can escape to saftey

you’d always come to his rescue even if he got mad at you for it, wings wrapping around him as you struck his attacker faster than he could summon his shadows (and he definitely gets pissed about it but hey what are … friends …. for!)

wings are for shit talking and the occasional life saver when it comes to al

angel dust

he loves the security of your wings

after a long day, you’d just lie in his room, wings wrapped around him as he held you close — he’d either fall asleep or want to sit in silence like that, but either way you were happy to help

sometimes you’d just sit at the bar, wing around him as you talked and laughed together

whenever you went out together, your wings were a strict barrier that no one dared to cross. you put a wing in front of angel when some guy approaches him? he and every other demon are backing off for the rest of the night. you’re walking down the street? wing around him and no one is approaching you

he definitely asks you to do it (in his own very special way) and he likes to tease you when you’re around other people

but you both know he treasures the safety your wings give him

pentious

my boy pentious 100% thinks you’ve turned against him the first time you drape your wings over him — you could’ve literally been sleeping and he’d accuse you of trying to smother him

“i was sleeping!” “your subconscious mind plans to kill me, too!”

he warms up to it though because the next time it happens you’re fast asleep and theres no attempt to block his airways, or whatever he thought you’d do, so he snuggles into the warmth

being a snake (i love snakes im gonna b a lil nerdy about this one) pen likes to burrow. especially at night. he’d start to curl up under the warmth of your wings and rest there until you eventually moved

some days you’d wake up and he’d be completely hidden beneath your wings. if you lift one, he’d very quickly tug it back (definitely how he found out about sensitive wings)

he felt very bad :(

cherri

wings are for parties!

they give you the best dance numbers — dramatic reveal, awesome poses, super dope flying routine…!

then they’re for comedowns because once you’re home from the club shit hits the fan and you’re wrapping your wings around her so she can even try to sleep

but then the morning comes and you brush it off cus it’s time to blow shit up!

definitely using your wings as a shield though — they’re probably dyed pink and red by now, with all the times you’ve had to cover the two of you from explosives

but she finds it super hot so…

velvette

she likes to fuck with you

1000% uses them as her personal armor — you’re basically a body guard

she’ll wrap them around herself while looking in the mirror, modeling your wings like a feather coat

“my wings are not going in your collection,” you’d have to tell her, still pulling her closer with them as you met her eyes in the mirror

“yeah, guess you’re right. can’t have anyone else getting a hold of these, can we?”

she loves being wrapped in them while she sleeps — she loves you sleeping next her, cause then she can lay them however she wants

it’s always best when you’re wings fold in and bring her closer though

definitely been used for a private moment in the office

she says they’re your best asset

vox

now this man is, under no circumstances, letting you wrap your wings around him

in public? absolutely not…

in private? well…. no! totally not!

at least not until you’re asleep and he’s situating himself beneath them. it’s not his fault a feather blanket helps him fall asleep

you’ve definitely waited until he fell asleep, draped you wings over him, and watched him relax into them

he’s not slick

like at all

not even in public

he’ll touch them and the minute one even wraps around him, his screen is buffering

speaking of in public… just wait til you’re at a party. he’s drunk and all over you, touching your wings, handling them like their his own, you have to use them to shield the two of you when he gets too handsy, and he loves it; pushing your buttons until your wings are around him and being more than satisfied by that

niffty

girl is crazy

she cleans them, climbs on them, inspects them (almost rips the fuck out of your feathers)

there’s no way you can wrap that girl up, she’s too quick

but she would love petting them and thats why shes here

[lovebugism]

shy!reader goes to the pool with Eddie and is too afraid to wear her swimsuit in front of him? Maybe she’s wearing clothes over her bikini/one piece and doesn’t want to undress at first because of her nerves lol

hope u like it! — you still get a little nervous showing your body, but eddie takes it all in stride (shy!fem!r, established relationship, cw for mentions of body insecurity, 1.1k)

Eddie’s rubber flip-flops are much too big on your feet. You fight to keep them on and match his longer strides at the same time. He leads you down the scenic trail of the Harrington vacation home with one hand curled intently around your own. He doesn’t seem phased by the dirt clinging to his bare feet.

“Think Steve’s folks will get mad if we skinny dip?” he jokes over his shoulder, wild curls billowing in the late afternoon wind.

You shrug. “I don’t think they own the lake, so…”

“I wouldn’t put it past them,” he scoffs.

“Me neither,” you concur with a quiet laugh.

A set of wooden steps lead off the trail and towards the shore. They creak under your weight, ancient and half-eroded with time. Eddie stands beside you on the dock, lips curled into a pink, lopsided smile. “Well, what they don’t know won’t hurt ‘em,” he quips before reaching for the hem of his shirt.

You giggle when he lifts the fabric up and over his head. His milky white torso is left on display for you, sprinkled with sparse hair and a couple of faded tattoos. His body is lanky and lean — stomach soft with gentle pudge where his happy trail begins. You couldn’t hide your leering if you wanted to.

“You’re crazy,” you say, still laughing.

“Crazy for you,” the boy croons. 

You watch him reach for the buttons of his jeans, fumbling with them for a moment. Your chest swirls with a strange, hollow feeling. “Wait— Are you serious?” you wonder with wide, glimmering eyes. You’ve never felt totally comfortable swimming in a bathing suit, let alone naked.

Eddie shrugs his freckled shoulders and tugs his jeans down his scruffy thighs. “Yeah. Why not?”

He’s left in his thin, plaid boxers now. He doesn’t seem nearly as fazed by it as you do. Heart thrumming like an anxious hummingbird, your eyes dart over your shoulder and back to him. “What if the others see?!”

“Then let ‘em see,” he chuckles, golden like the early setting sun. “Who cares?”

I care, you almost say, ‘cause you’re too pretty, and I’m not pretty enough. 

You swallow your loathing and instead reply, “Steve would never let you live it down if he caught you out here. You know that.”

Eddie’s bare feet pad against the creaking wooden dock. The sound is mostly drowned out by the waves ebbing and flowing beneath you. Nothing could hide the heavenly sound of his laughter, though. “What? That I’m skinnydipping with the prettiest girl in Indiana?” the boy retorts with a boyish chuckle. “I wouldn’t want him to let me live it down.”

You swallow hard, not swayed by the compliment. Your unsure gaze flits to your feet and the black sandals Eddie lent you on the way down. You see his paler, bare ones come into view just before his calloused palms smooth over your waist — above the oversized t-shirt you wear, which also belongs to the boy in front of you.

“I’m just… I’m just kidding, you know? About the skinnydipping thing,” Eddie assures you, suddenly serious and much quieter with it. His head ducks down to catch your falling gaze. His chocolate eyes sparkle beneath the yellow sun. His lips curl into a lopsided smile. “We don’t have to do it if it makes you uncomfortable. We never have to do anything you don’t want, you know that.”

You purse your lips to the side and think for a moment. You’re not nearly as at ease swimming naked as he is, but you’d be silly to turn down the opportunity to be alone with him. You have spent the entire weekend babysitting, after all.

“Can I keep my bathing suit on?” you wonder sheepishly.

Eddie scoffs. “Of course you can! You can do whatever you want, doll. I’m followin’ your lead here.”

He smacks a kiss to your lips, mouth tasting of nicotine, soda, and strawberries — like nostalgia and springtime.

“Can you turn around?”

Eddie meets your coy look with a wider smile. “Yeah. Sure,” he hums and steps back from you to spin on his heel. You know he’ll see you in your bathing suit before you step foot in the water, but you’ve always felt distinctly smothered by his gaze. You don’t feel half deserving of the adoration always swimming in the deep brown of them.

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, you know?” he quips without looking at you.

“It’s different,” you insist, pulling your t-shirt up and over your head. You fold it neatly before setting it gingerly on the dock. You’re left in the pretty one-piece you thrifted before the trip — a floral number that dips low at the chest and ties into a bow at the back.

Eddie doesn’t really understand, but he figures he doesn’t have to. He’ll do whatever makes you most comfortable, no questions asked. “Sure,” he nods. “Can I look now?”

You hesitate for a reason you can’t name. You feel more at ease with Eddie than anyone else in the whole wide world — and besides the fact that he’s seen you in much, much less — you shouldn’t be as nervous as you are now.

“Yeah…” you waver.

Eddie peeks at you over his shoulder for a moment before turning to face you fully. His pink lips purse and a low whistle sounds between them. “Damn,” he mumbles.

You fight back a smile and look away from him, wringing your anxious hands into a knot. “Hush…”

“You’re a total smokeshow, baby.”

“Eddie!”

“Don’t know why you wanna hide from me so bad…” he teases lowly, gravitating towards you without thinking. His hands are warm and wide as they smooth over your sides. His palms curl around your lower back and idle there, fingers lingering just above your ass. “All I wanna do is look at you, and you won’t even let me…” he jokes, mostly serious, but with a playful pout on his lips.

Your arms cross between your bodies. You glare up at him with pretty doe eyes that swim with all the love you have for him. You couldn’t pretend to be annoyed if you tried. “It’s ‘cause you’re so nice…”

His brows raise and disappear behind his fluffy bangs. “You’re shy because I think you’re hot?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “It’s weird.”

“Maybe,” Eddie laughs. He figures it’s on-brand enough for him, as the resident freak and all. But loving you has never felt unnatural or strange. It feels normal, like an instinct he’s always had, something he’s always been destined to do. So he just tilts his pretty head and smiles sweetly down at you. “Can’t help it, though.”

[demonpiratehuntress]

marry me

Portgas D. Ace x F!Reader

summary - Ace is completely and irrevocably in love with you and always wants your attention. he's so soft and loving. one day, he asks you to be his forever

warnings - none

When Ace falls in love with you, everyone knows.

He is so smitten, following you around like a lost puppy and pining for your attention every second of the day. He's adorable to you, honestly, looking so cute when he pouts and demands you give him five kisses to make up for not giving him one when you were busy earlier.

"That was too quick!" He whines when you're done, and will lift you off your feet to keep you in his arms and stop you from going anywhere. You just giggle and indulge him, kissing him a few more times until he's satisfied.

He never is. He always wants to kiss you. If he could kiss you forever, he definitely would, and you laughed at the notion when he told you.

"Ace, how would we breathe?"

"We can take breaks to breathe," he nuzzled his face against your neck, his skin warm against yours. "But not too long. Maybe five seconds before I kiss you again."

The sound of your laughter was music to his ears. It was the only thing he ever wanted to hear, coupled with your smile and your beautiful eyes being the only things he ever wanted to see. Your laugh gave him butterflies, made his already warm insides burn hotter than the sun. He wanted to drown in the sound of you laughing at all his silly jokes and comments, and he loved being the one to make it come out so much.

"You're so funny, you know that?" You wheezed after spending ten minutes laughing at him tripping and falling on his face.

He just stood up and grinned, hat a little lopsided, "Glad to be of service." He then ducked into a low bow, and that sent you into another fit of laughter, his ears perking up. He could listen to that all day.

He especially loves it when he can make you smile while cuddling, warming up his body to just the right temperature. Your reaction, a blissful sigh and a content smile, is enough to make him happy to die right there in your arms.

"You're so nice and warm," you mumble into his neck almost every night, getting comfortable on his half-bare body. "I love your devil fruit ability. This is so so comfortable, I don't want to move." Your words sent him to heaven and back, and he would gladly let you lay on him for the rest of your lives.

And your massages-

Ace is a sucker for you straddling his hips as he lays on the bed on his stomach, just because it feels oh so good when you run your hands down his back and over his Whitebeard tattoo. It gives him the pleasant kind of shivers, and he absolutely melts under your touch. If you start to massage his shoulders and sore spots, he will be out like a light. He will enjoy it for a few moments, but your touch will soon send him into the best slumber he has ever had. And when he wakes up, you're still massaging him but you're looking a bit tired so he flips around and lays you down, spooning you as he buries his face in your hair.

"You're too good to me, you know," he'd mumble, smiling at the familiar and sweet scent of your hair.

You'd smile and put one of your hands over his on your waist, "That's because I love you more than you can imagine. I just want you to be happy, that's my biggest goal in life."

He almost cries right then and there, your words making his eyes gloss over, "I love you too. So, so much." And his grip on you tightens as he presses soft and sweet kisses to your back, your neck, your shoulders...anywhere he can reach. "You're the best thing to ever happen to me, I swear."

Ace follows you around like a lost puppy, always feeling the need to hold you or be touching you in some way. He is the clingiest boy ever, but you absolutely do not mind and in fact, you love it. Having him want to be touching you all the time is one of the best feelings in the world, and you remind him of that every single day.

"Ace, stop that! Let (Name) work!"

You giggle when Marco chides Ace for hanging onto you like a koala, "It's okay. I love it when he clings to me. He's so warm." Your words will have Ace blushing like mad, and he'd smile against your neck. Again, he almost cries at the fact that you need him to touch you just as much as he needs to be touching you. His grip inevitably tightens, and he spreads kisses all over your face - turning it towards him if he has to.

He even lets you wear his hat, a luxury only awarded to you and you alone. He likes how you look in it, always telling you that you're so cute when you wear it because it's so big and slips over your eyes so easily (and because it's a possessive thing and lets everyone know you're his). And you love wearing it, simply because it's his. It's him, essentially.

"Babe, you look so cute right now," he grins at you when he places it on your head one day while you're reading on your shared bed.

You look up at him from under the rim and smile shyly, "Thanks, babe." And Ace swears he could melt into a fiery puddle right then and there.

He tells you that you should wear it more often, so you do, and he almost dies from the cuteness and the happiness he gets from seeing you wear something of his. Literally, he almost fell overboard and drowned when you stole it from him one day at lunch.

Before long, Ace develops a different kind of desire, a different kind of need. He never thought he would ever feel it, but having you in his life has opened him up to so many things he never dreamed he would be able to have.

Ace wants to marry you.

He wants to make you his for eternity. He wants to make you his wife, and that title alone is enough to make him giddy with happiness. Just imagining being able to call you his wife has Ace soaring, and he knows that it's what he wants more than anything in the world. You make him happier than he ever thought he could be, and you show him so much love and affection that sometimes he feels like he doesn't do enough to reciprocate. But you constantly assure him he does. You're always there to reassure him, to relax him, to make him feel better about anything that might be worrying him, making him sad or hurt, or stressing him out. And he adores you for it.

"(Nameeeeeeeeee), my loveeeeeee!"

You hear him sing from down the hallway one day, turning just in time to see the fiery commander sprinting towards you with something in his hands. When he gets closer, you blush seeing the huge bouquet of flowers in his hand. He stops in front of you, panting and out of breath (he ran all the way from the island the ship was docked by), and holds it out to you.

"For you," he gives you the goofiest but sweetest smile he can muster.

You take it slowly, already beginning to tear up, "Ace-"

"Wait, wait, that's not all," he grins, grabbing your hand and pulling you along. He is practically buzzing with excitement, and you wonder why, but you don't have to for long.

The entire crew has gathered on the deck, making a semi-circle around the center. A bunch of your favourite flowers were scattered in a circle, making a beautiful ring of (favourite flower)s that Ace stepped over with you and into. It was simple, but when he got down on one knee and pulled out a small black box, the look on your face made it all worth it.

"Ace-" You started, already getting emotional.

He smiled up at you, completely lovestruck. "(Name), I know this may not be the most elaborate proposal ever, but I was more excited about proposing than setting up," he admitted with a blush, making you and everyone else laugh. "You are the best thing that's ever happened to me and I know I say that everyday, but I will keep saying it everyday for the rest of our lives. You make me the happiest man alive, and being with you for as long as we have been together has been the biggest blessing in my life. I never thought I could want something as badly as I want to marry you, but I'm happy I do because I cannot and will not imagine anyone better to spend the rest of my life with. I love you so, so much, (Name), so will you do me the honour of marrying me?"

He was crying, but so were you. Tears were streaming down both your faces, but the smiles gracing your lips were enough for everyone to see that you were both just overwhelmed by love and happiness in that moment.

"Yes," you didn't hesitate to give your answer, beaming.

Ace grinned and slid the ring onto your finger, standing up to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you against his body. Before you could ask where he got the ring from, he leaned down and kissed you so deeply and lovingly you forgot every single thought you had, arms sliding around his neck to steady yourself so you wouldn't fall over. Not that he'd let you, anyway. Loud cheers and whoops filled the air as you shared a passionate and affectionate kiss, and both of you were smiling so brightly when you pulled away that you were sure your cheeks would hurt when the day was done.

"I love you," he whispered, pecking your lips sweetly over and over.

"I love you too," you breathed, before laughing and smiling even more when he removed his hat to place it on your head.

And as you beamed up at him from below the tip of his hat that was too big for your head, Ace knew that he had no regrets. Your bright eyes peeking up at him from under the rim of the hat made him sure that this had been the best decision of his life, right after asking you out.

"My wife!" He grinned, suddenly remembering what he was so excited to call you. "My beautiful, beautiful wife."

You blushed, "Words cannot describe how much I love being called that."

"What?" He smiled devilishly, tugging you close again, "My wife? My beautiful wife?" He kissed all over your face, repeating the phrase 'my beautiful wife' over and over.

"Get a room!" Someone yelled, making you both laugh.

"That we shall," Ace took your hand, "But after the celebratory cake, of course."

You laughed as he said this, eagerly following him wherever he went, knowing you would gladly follow him anywhere, and he would follow you anywhere.

BONUS (because i am obsessed with idea of being called Ace's wife):

"LUFFYYYYYY!"

Ace was already screaming for his brother as soon as the Thousand Sunny was in sight. He was so excited to show you off as his wife, you thought it was the cutest thing in the world.

"LUFFYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!"

"ACEEEEEEEEEE!" Came the responding shout, making you laugh and face palm. These brothers.

When you and your husband boarded his brother's ship, Ace immediately ran over to him and gave him the biggest, tightest hug he could muster.

"I have a wife!!!"

Your cheeks heated up again, and you smiled at the sight of Luffy getting just as excited as Ace about it. Luffy ran to give you a hug as well, and you laughed and blushed as he told you that you were going to make the coolest sister-in-law.

And of course, Sanji was crying and Nami and Robin wanted to see the ring, which you happily showed them as you shot your husband a warm, loving smile.

You were finally Ace's wife, and it was the best feeling in the world.

Cue everyone referring to you as Ace's wife or Portgas D. Ace's wife from now on.

a/n: this is officially my favourite fic that i've written, it turned out WAYYYY better than i expected. this man ❤❤❤

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

Simon Riley lets out a high-pitched squeal when you shower with him first time because the water is too goddamn hot. (but it’s the best temperature for you).

LOL YES YES YES THIS IS SO TRUE!! Idk why but I also have a hc that he prolly jumped a bit to avoid the hot splash because in his military life he's used to shower in cold ass water, and rarely has time to adjust the temperature since he showered in rush (3 minutes shower). His skin might be a little pink or red after warm (hot) shower. Please just give this man lukewarm bath with rubber duck, shark and starfish, a gentle scalp massage would be a help too and trust me 100% he's addicted to it

yes he deserves a nice bath 😈 ty for the ideas!! this is just some little scenes I think will happen :D!

Simon*Reader, silly couple

btw anon’s talking about this post

Shower with Simon Riley

1.

You finally convince Simon to shower with you the first time (not that he doesn’t want it, he’s just not familiar with these intimate couple things, give that man some time to build his courage).

You throw your clothes aside without any bit of shyness, and step behind the shower curtain, turning on the water and waiting for Simon to come in.

You can’t help but salivate at the man’s figure, and he seems to notice your gaze, his ego must thrive to sky-high in mere seconds.

Until you rinse the water on his chest.

“eee!”

“???” You almost doubt it’s a seagull showering with you when you hear the high-pitched squeak coming from your lover whose voice is always low and gravel.

“...” Oh, and he’s avoiding meeting your eyes now.

“Did you just squeal Simon?”

“No.”

“But I heard—“

“No.”

2.

“You want this bath bomb or this or that?”

“They’re all fucking same.”

“No, this is vanilla, this is lavender, this is rose and this is...”

“Bloody hell... just choose one for me.”

“Alright then.” You toss the vanilla one into the lukewarm water.

10 minutes after Simon falls asleep in the bathtub with the rubber duck in his hand when you softly scratch his scalp.

...

A few days later, you open the drawer outside the bathroom and get drowned by tons of vanilla bath bombs.

“I thought someone said all of them are the same...” You smirk at Simon, while he just stares at you and can’t find a convincing reason to defend himself.

3.

You discover Simon’s skin turns into light pink after showering with you a few times.

“You’re like a strawberry” You two are cuddling on the bed after a soothing shower together. “Your skin always becomes pink after you shower with me.”

“I’m not a fucking strawberry.”

“How about peach?”

“That’s the same.”

“but it’s cute, seeing your cheeks turn red.”

You poke his face cheekily, but he just shoves your blahaj on his face to cover it.

“What, Simon?” You snicker as you scoot closer “Shy for being said cute?”

“...” He doesn’t answer, just covers his face with your plushie more secure.

“How can I kiss you when you cover your face, handsome?”

“...” Simon still maintains silence, but you’re damn sure he’s hesitating.

“You don’t want my kiss?” You fake a disappointed tone, and eventually, he moves the blahaj out of his face.

Your smile deepens when you still spot the pink smearing across his cheeks.

“That’s my man.” You peck his lips “Thanks, cutie”

You really should stop teasing him. You tell yourself when he smashes the blahaj on his face again once he hears you call him cutie.

[trashogram]

He Chose You (Pt.1)

Lucifer/Reader

Hazbin Hotel AU where Lilith never existed, Lucifer has been lonely for over a millennia and Charlie will be born one way or another. Rated E for explicit sexual content of the raunchiest variety in later chapters and also weird old people.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

There was a knock at your door. It sounded like someone rapping their knuckles against the wood whimsically, as if following the beat of a song you couldn’t hear.

The methodical folding of your clothes into garage sale-quality drawers came to a halt. You looked over your shoulder, shifting on your feet hesitantly.

It had been little over a week since you moved into the grand old Donner apartment. Apart from a quick tow-in of shoddy furniture from your hired movers, no one had come calling. 

You definitely weren’t expecting anyone either, not in a brand new city you’d spontaneously decided to live in.

After another moment of uncertainty, you pivoted to the door and inched it open to a slit you could peek through. “Hello?”

Your brow furrowed as you stared at the empty space ahead of you. Pulling the door open fully, you peered down one end of the hallway to the other. 

Nothing but cracked and crumbling crown moldings on wainscoting, a matted-looking saxony carpet, the same musty, stale air…

‘Quack’

You nearly jumped out of your skin, head snapping down to see a real, live duck standing just outside your doorframe. 

“Oh!”

     You immediately squatted down to marvel at the animal. It gazed back up at you with beady red eyes and a curious gait. 

“Hey little guy,” You cooed, smiling despite the incongruous image of a waterfowl in your building.

You raised a hand and reached out slowly, instinctive desire to pet the cute little creature warring with a minuscule yet no less embarrassing fear. 

Were ducks typically friendly? You knew so little, ornithology not being your thing. 

“Will you let me pet you?” Your fingers hovered over the surprisingly patient animal before it decided to nudge itself under your palm.

The duck shivered with delight at your touch, all-white feathers ruffling excitedly and tail wagging, looking akin to a very happy dog. 

“Oh my god.” You gasped, heart melting. “You’re so cute!”

Soft feathers brushed against your bent knees as the duck drew close enough to rub its body against you. It had gone from doggish to cat-like effortlessly, and you couldn’t help giggling over how silly it looked.

“Where did you come from?” You asked after a bit of cuddling, glancing from side to side once again. The hallway remained empty, no one running to fetch what you assumed was a beloved pet. 

     ‘That’s… weird.’ You thought. ‘So, who knocked on my door?’ 

It was tempting to ask the bird that was currently bouncing on its webbed feet. You couldn’t help but snort with laughter before positioning yourself so that you were sitting. In an instant, the duck made to climb into your lap, allowing you to carefully lift it onto your legs when it couldn’t reach. 

“You’re so silly!” Grinning, you continued to stroke its head. “Your owner is probably worried sick about their silly little guy.” 

‘Quack’ 

The duck burrowed its head against your stomach as it settled on your lap, and you sighed. “I’d love to keep you, but I don’t know how to take care of you, sweetie.” 

Little red eyes bore into you from below, seemingly wide and beseeching. It was too precious, and too perfect (to the point where you idly wondered if someone was somehow scouting a way to scam you via adorable duck shenanigans).

Aside from the guttural, sad ‘wek’ you got in reply, a slow creak of hinges drew your attention back up. The door across from you had visibly opened the barest amount. You squinted, just able to make out frizzy red hair and a red-rimmed, down-turned mouth in the dim lighting. 

“Oh hey, hi!” You stopped yourself from standing, instead of bracing the bundle in your lap close. “Is this your duck?”

A tingle went up your spine as the door opened fully and an old woman appeared. She was dressed in green capri pants and a ruffled tan blouse, hair red as an open flame and barely kept in-check by a cheetah-print scarf. The makeup she wore was caked on, harsh red lipstick smeared around her thin lips and black kohl-rimmed eyes popping out of her wrinkled face. 

The sour, almost suspicious look on her face softened but did not completely go away, even when she smiled.

“Oh Lou!” She cried, making you jump. “You didn’t get very far, did you? I almost didn’t notice you were gone, you little scoundrel!”

“Well, thank goodness for that I guess. He’s got those little legs, ya see,” She nodded down at your lap, “but he’s so darn fast anyway, might as well be a midget racehorse!”

You chuckled and smiled politely. That persistent tingling at your back had you holding back a shiver, and the skin on your arms prickled and rose. 

“I didn’t know we could have pet ducks in this building.” Your words belied a confidence, as well as interest in having a conversation with this woman, that you didn’t truly have. 

As a matter of fact, despite the inner scolding you gave yourself for being judgmental, you were quite off-put in the woman’s presence. The want to return to your apartment and shut the door in her overly-painted face was rising like a lump in your throat. 

“He seems to really like you, that’s so sweet. He’s not usually this friendly with anyone but my hubby. That’s Mr. Farrow, honey, have you met him?” The woman - presumably Mrs, Farrow, leaned down just a few feet away. 

She still looked to be examining you and your avian companion, the bland pleasantness oozing yet unable to suffocate the shrewd glint in her dark eyes. 

“Oh, uh, no. I’m afraid I haven’t -” You started. 

“Oh, that’s alright! That’s fine! Matter of fact, he’d get an earful from me if he was talkin’ to a pretty thing like you without me knowin’!” Mrs. Farrow laughed. “Just kiddin’, honey. You’re new to the building though, aren’t you? Well, welcome! It’s nice to see a new face here! ‘Specially a young one!” 

“Thank —”

“Maybe that’s why Lou is so taken with you! Animals just thrive off energy and sunshine and all that. Not slow, almost dead things. I’m sure you’re birds of a feather that way.” 

Again, your soft laughter is polite, teetering on nervousness. 

You took a moment to rise, humming apologetically when Lou squawked as he was jostled. On your feet, you instinctively stepped back. One foot over the threshold and solid in your apartment. 

“He is really sweet.” You said, holding the animal out as carefully as you could. “I’m glad he didn’t get lost.”

Mrs. Farrow stared, arms falling to her sides. She didn’t attempt to take the bird from you for a long, long moment. 

Confusion and disbelief clouded your mind as you stood, waiting, watching as Mrs. Farrow’s throat bobbed when she swallowed forcefully. 

What? Was she afraid of the duck?

In a split-second, she returned to smiling animatedly and waved a geriatric hand in the air so flippantly that the uncomfortable moment ceased to exist. 

“Oh honey, you can put him down if you want. He’ll come back over now that our door’s open.” Mrs. Farrow laughed. “Lou’s not my biggest fan. He’s such a prideful thing, you know. Just like Mr. Farrow - it’s probably why they get along so well!”

You blinked, then slowly bent at the waist to let Lou down. The duck made another disdainful quack, red eyes looking at you morosely. 

It’s little legs eventually rowed through the air in an effort to gain footing. You lightly placed him over the carpet and let go, allowing Lou to jump down. 

The duck began waddling away, though it appeared to hang its head as it did so. Occasionally, he turned to look at you, somber and sullen as if bidding farewell before walking on death row. 

“Aww, poor little thing.” Mrs. Farrow drawled. At your side. “Looks like my Lou is sweet on you! Poor guy, I can see why! Again, a lovely young thing like you is probably a gift from above in this stuffy old place.” 

“Say, how long have you been here?” 

You turned to the old woman. “About a week, I’m still getting settled.”

Mrs. Farrow nodded vigorously, eyes bright but mouth pursed. “A week, a week?! A week and no one’s introduced themselves to you?”

“Holy Toledo, you must think we’re all a bunch a’ snobs in here! That’s no good. Oh! Why don’t you come over for dinner sometime and me and my mister can show you some proper hospitality?” 

“Oh, that's really nice of you —” 

“Sure! Sure! It’ll be great, how ‘bout tomorrow night? It’d give us some time to get prepared, have things cleaned and settled. Do you like steak? That’d be perfect, actually. I’ve got some in the freezer just waitin’ to be defrosted.”

“Um, well — That’s a little short notice…”

“I’m sure Mr. Farrow won’t mind. He’ll be glad for the company, and if he isn’t, well he will be when I’m done with him.” She chortled. “Just another joke, honey. He’s always dyin’ to talk to someone that isn’t me. It’d be a real treat to him. Treat ta me too! What do you say?”

Your mouth opened and closed as a light sheen of sweat broke over the nape of your neck. Mrs. Farrow’s sharp eyes were wider, attempting to beguile you while your head was still spinning. 

“I-I guess, maybe —” You stammered.

“Wonderful!” The eccentric woman’s eyes lit up like fireworks, cigarette-smoker’s voice becoming truly raucous in her delight. “I’ll go ahead and get started. You go get back to what it was you were doing before Lou and I interrupted you! And don’t worry about a thing! We might be old timers, but a good meal and good cheer never go out of style.” 

Mrs. Farrow laughed, pretending to shoo you away until you were back inside your apartment and she was pulling your door to a close for you. 

“Have a good night, honey! We’ll see you tomorrow! 6 o’clock, don’t be late!”

Before you knew it, you were staring at the back of your own door again. 

‘What the fuck just happened?’

[pseudowho]

Thinking about...

...long-term 'too comfortable' relationships with the JJK guys, when all the weird/gross/silly things creep in.

Pinning Gojo Satoru against a wall, having spotted an enormous pimple on his chin that you just have to get: "there's nothing wrong with m-- how dare you-- ow ow ow get off me--" "don't be such a melt, Satoru, keep still, that absolutely cannot stay on your face--"

Sitting on the toilet and chatting with Nanami Kento while he showers, and he wordlessly hands you a fresh toilet roll from the cabinet while he brushes his teeth; "thank you Kento" "mmmmmhm" and you continue chatting while you pee, leaving the bathroom door open. You forget to get off the toilet, so he brings you your tea there, while you continue to tell him about your day.

Laughing at Geto Suguru as he steps out of the bathroom after a bit of manscaping; "no no no-- go and get your razor, you're all patchy" "ah shit, really?" "yeah, you look like you've got a really bad gardener" "at least I try to trim the hedges..."

Plucking Fushiguro Toji's back hairs out one at a time; "OW-- dammit woman, stop doin' it like you hate me--" "--look, if you keep getting hairier, I'll just wax you instead, you're such a bear--" "--alright alright, I'll get your little witchy chin hair after--" "hey!"

Calling out to Okkotsu Yuuta while you're stuck on the toilet, blood over your hands and panties; "hey, Yuuta! Can you grab me some new underwear, and a pad?" "Sure!" Yuuta shuffles back to you, unfazed, as you hand him your bloodied panties to put in the laundry basket, "that bad, huh? You got enough stuff to last you?" "actually, I might need you to run to the shops..."

Creeping up behind Zenin Maki while she washes her bras in the sink, dropping a few of your own ones in, pressing a sloppy kiss to her cheek; "hey, hey, I'm not your washer woman" "yeah you are, such a beautiful washer woman" "psh...you're doing them next time"

Takuma Ino smiling as you curl on the sofa beside him in slummy old pyjamas full of holes (an ancient t-shirt of his, joggers you've had for at least ten years...), and you let out a fart; "sorry, sorry..." "don't be, I know you can do better than that" and Takuma lets one rip himself, sighing with relief.

Dropping your toothbrush down the toilet at Higuruma Hiromi's house; "ah, shit!" "oh, damn...just use mine" "eurgh, I'm not doing that!" "darling, be reasonable, I eat your pussy, we share much more--" "that's different--" "well by all means then, my love, enjoy your toilet toothbrush..."

Catching Todo Aoi taking a swig of milk out of the carton; "get a glass, jesus!" "whatever babe, it's just me and you here" "that is disgusting, unsanitary" "oh? I'll show you disgusting and unsanitary...c'mere"

When Kugisaki Nobara steps out of the bedroom, wearing your panties; "hey, they're my favourite!" "well they're my favourite too..." "yeah, on me! Get them off-- get back here--" and you dart after her, Nobara laughing as you try to pull your underwear off her, "help, help, I'm being assaulted!"

Catching Itadori Yuuji giving himself a scratch and sniff; "you absolute goblin-- go wash your hands!" Yuuji darts after you, laughing, his hand outstretched as you screech, ducking and running past him; "what, this hand? Come back baby! Where you goin'?"

Telling Fushiguro Megumi every single time you need to poop; "pause the movie! Gotta go poop," and he absolutely returns the favour, sitting on the toilet while you're taking a bath , "I'd wait...but I can't" "alright alright, just don't stink the place out" "I don't make promises I can't keep"

[ot8xbangchansgirlsblog]

I love ur writing sm, like I would worship you if you wrote this request, basically, you are the 9th member of skz, yall are all dating, and today, they all had a concert. The first half of it went fine, but somewhere in the second half, you all heard gunshots, you reacting the fastest, saw them heading to (member of your choice) so you shove them out of the way while you take the bullet (chivalrous ikr). The members all immediately stop the concert despite u reassuring then you could finish (with blood everywhere) then the ending is just comfort and angst bc they didn't sallow u to do anything, and you got bored. Plsss take ur time if ur going to make this, I will literally cherish this with my heart if you make it

𝕨𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕥𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕒 𝕓𝕦𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕥 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕞𝕖?

Warning: Angst

Summary: Request!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

It happened so fast.

One second, Y/N was standing next to Felix and Han, laughing and joking around with them, and the next, there was a blood-curdling scream that shattered the lighthearted atmosphere.

"Guys, duck!" Y/N screamed, her voice sharp and urgent.

She barely had time to process what was happening before instinct took over. In a split second, she shoved Felix and Han out of the way, her hands landing on their shoulders with enough force to knock them off balance. The world seemed to slow as they stumbled back, confusion still clouding their faces.

"Y/N—what—?" Felix started to say, but his words were cut off by the deafening sound of something heavy crashing against the floor.

The moment she pushed them away, Y/N’s eyes darted to the source of the danger. She had been watching them—Felix, Han, and the rest of the group—having fun, playing with the toys and gifts they had gotten from STAY. It was supposed to be a lighthearted day, a sign-meet with fans, some laughter, and silly moments. But something had felt off all day. The atmosphere felt thinner, like the air itself was stretched too tight, and Changbin had been out with a stomach bug, so the energy was lower than usual. They didn’t want to do the event, but it had been scheduled. They had no choice.

They’d gathered so many toys and gifts from STAY that it seemed like they were almost swimming in them. But right now, they were just strolling on stage, talking casually to the fans in the crowd. Y/N had been teasing Chan all day—playfully, of course. Then she had moved on to teasing the members of the Racha subunit—Felix and Han—just like she always did.

"Y/Nnie, look," Felix giggled, suddenly putting a pair of bunny ears on her head.

Y/N laughed, shaking her head in amusement as she grabbed a pair of oversized sunglasses from one of the gifts. "I look ridiculous," she said, still smiling.

"Let's take a picture!" Han beamed, grabbing the selfie stick and clicking a few shots, each one more ridiculous than the last.

Y/N held up a tiny pony plushie in front of them, laughing at how tiny it was. "Look what STAY got me," she giggled, passing it to the two of them.

The pair squatted down, completely entranced by the toy, their faces lighting up with genuine curiosity. Y/N snapped a few pictures of them, capturing how adorable they looked. She smiled softly, feeling a deep warmth in her chest. These were the moments she treasured—the small, quiet seconds when everything felt perfect.

Her gaze shifted over to Hyunjin, who was laughing with his usual carefree energy. She raised an eyebrow, confused, before her eyes landed on Chan.

The sight that met her eyes made her stifle a laugh. Chan, their leader, was wearing a tiara. It was completely ridiculous.

"So silly," she thought, shaking her head with a grin. She opened her mouth to call out to the crowd.

"Stay, don't you think our leader is a little too old to be a princess?" she teased, her voice light and playful.

Before she could even finish her sentence, she heard Chan yell, "Hey!" into the microphone, and a few giggles escaped from the crowd.

STAY responded with loud, drawn-out "nooo's," their laughter ringing out. Y/N rolled her eyes playfully at them but kept her focus on Han and Felix, who were still deeply engrossed in the tiny pony toy.

But something didn’t feel right. A strange sense of unease settled in her chest, making her skin crawl. She was on high alert now, her body rigid as her eyes scanned the surroundings. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

And then it happened.

A sound.

It was faint at first—a click, barely noticeable over the laughter and chatter around her. But it was enough to make Y/N freeze. The sound sent a jolt of adrenaline straight through her, and her military training kicked in. She had been through safety drills before debut, and she knew exactly what that sound was.

A gunshot.

Before she could react, a blur of motion caught her eye. A figure—clad in a large hoodie, with Felix’s SKZOO merch clearly visible—stood up from the crowd. The person’s face was obscured, but their intent was clear. The girl was shaking, tears streaking down her face, but her hands were steady as she raised the weapon in their direction.

Her heart hammered in her chest. Y/N didn’t have time to think. The world moved in slow motion as she lunged forward, adrenaline flooding her body.

"NO!" Y/N screamed, her hands pushing Han and Felix out of the way just as the girl pulled the trigger.

The loud bang of the gunshot reverberated in her ears as Y/N threw herself onto the ground, the sharp, metallic scent of fear thick in the air. Felix and Han hit the floor in a tangle of limbs, their faces contorted in confusion and terror. But Y/N barely noticed.

Her eyes were trained on the girl. The gun had been aimed at the boys, and Y/N’s body had moved before her mind could even catch up.

Everything happened so fast. One second, they were all laughing and smiling, and the next, Y/N had just saved their lives.

But the danger wasn't over. The moment her body hit the ground, she heard the sound of people shouting, running, and chaos erupting all around her.

Security was swift, moving through the chaos like trained professionals, their hands outstretched to clear the crowd and usher the members away from danger. But in the chaos, Felix crawled toward her, his face twisted in panic. His hands grasped at her arm, pulling her closer as he let out a strangled yelp of distress.

"Y/N! No, no, no!" he cried, his voice breaking.

She could barely move, her body feeling heavy and unresponsive. The adrenaline rush was fading, and all that was left was pain. As security worked to move her out of harm's way, Y/N’s side felt like it was on fire. It stung with every movement, sharp and unbearable. She forced her eyes open, her vision hazy, and that’s when she saw it.

Blood.

It was seeping through the fabric of her crop top, dark and spreading quickly. Her breath hitched in her throat.

"Y/N?!" Han’s voice was frantic, barely audible over the chaos, but she could hear the terror in his tone as he tried to reach her. His voice cracked. "Oh my God… Y/N!"

Through the blur of bodies and flashing lights, she saw Chan, Hyunjin, I.N, and Seungmin being pushed away, separated from the group. But even from a distance, Y/N could hear Chan's voice—loud, desperate, shouting for them.

"Do something!" Felix screamed at the security guard who was already dialing 911, his voice thick with panic.

"Y/N? Can you hear me?" Han sobbed, his hands trembling as he tried to pull off her tight clothes to check the wound, his movements erratic in his panic. Felix had moved to her side, gently cradling her head in his hands, trying to keep her conscious.

"We need backup!" the security guard shouted, his voice tense as he spoke into his radio.

Y/N could barely register what was happening. Everything was moving too fast, and she felt too much, too much pressure, too much noise, too many people around her.

"Guys? Where are you?!" I.N shouted, pushing through the commotion, his voice filled with alarm as he searched frantically for his friends.

"Get Chan, I.N!" Felix yelled, his eyes wild with fear. "She got shot! Get him now!"

I.N froze for a second, stunned by the reality of the situation. His gaze swept over Y/N’s body, the blood staining her clothes, and his eyes went wide in shock. "What the hell?!" he gasped, his voice shaking as he took a step back.

"Get Chan, now! Go!" Han shouted again, his voice hoarse from the panic that was threatening to consume him. He reached down, trying to stop the bleeding, but his hands shook too much to do anything useful. He was a mess, just as terrified as Felix.

"Ow..." Y/N gasped, the pain intensifying now that the adrenaline was wearing off. A sharp, searing ache shot through her abdomen, and she couldn’t stop the scream that tore from her throat. It was raw, desperate, and filled with a pain she couldn’t even understand.

Everyone was crowding around her, too many hands, too much noise, too much pressure. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. She wanted them all to stop.

"Felix? Han?" she gasped, her chest rising and falling in shallow, panicked breaths. She felt like she was suffocating. "Please... please, let me go." Her voice was weak, barely above a whisper. She couldn’t stand it—everything was too much. She wanted space. She wanted air.

"Baby, we’re right here," Felix’s voice was soft, but there was desperation in it. He was cradling her head, his fingers gentle against her skin. "We’re not going anywhere. We're right here, okay?"

"Chan... Chan..." Y/N whimpered, her hands trembling as she reached out for anything, anything to grab onto. Her fingers found nothing but air. She could feel the pain growing, spreading through her body, and she knew she couldn’t last much longer without him.

"Chan..." she repeated, her voice breaking as she squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to hold on.

The paramedics were on her now, their hands moving quickly as they hooked her up to various machines, pushing IVs into her arms, trying to stabilize her. Y/N barely felt it. The sharp prick of the needles was nothing compared to the agony she felt in her abdomen.

"We need space!" one of the paramedics barked, his voice cold and professional, as the others worked to stabilize her. The security guards, looking frantic themselves, began pushing Felix and Han away to give the paramedics room to work.

"No!" Felix shouted, struggling against the security guard’s hold. His heart was hammering in his chest. "I need to be right here! She’s claustrophobic—don’t you see? She’ll panic if you take us away!"

"Please, we need space to work!" the paramedic insisted, his voice hardening as he tried to maintain control of the situation.

But Felix wasn’t backing down. He twisted in the guard’s grip, desperation clear on his face. "No! You don’t understand! She’ll freak out! She needs us! She needs me!"

"Where is she?! Where is she?!" Chan’s voice rang through the air, raw with panic as he shoved his way through the crowd. His eyes were bloodshot, his face streaked with tears, and his entire body trembled with rage and fear.

I.N had reached him, breathless from running, and before he could say anything, Chan’s eyes locked onto him, wild and frantic. "Where is she?!" he demanded again, his voice breaking.

"She’s over here! She’s over here!" I.N shouted, pointing through the crowd. "They’re working on her, Chan. They’re trying to save her."

The scene in front of him was like a nightmare. Chan’s heart stopped for a moment as he caught sight of Y/N, bloodied and pale, surrounded by paramedics, with Felix and Han still hovering anxiously at her side. His chest tightened, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe.

He had to get to her. He had too. He couldn’t lose her.

With one final push, Chan broke through the crowd, his eyes wide, his breath ragged. "Y/N!" he cried, reaching for her.

His hands gripped hers with a desperation that didn’t care about the blood soaking into his clothes. The warmth of her skin, so pale and lifeless, felt like the last connection he had to her.

"We need to transfer her now," the paramedic said, his voice steady but urgent. "I’m sorry, sir. You can ride with us if you’d like."

Chan barely heard him. His focus was on Y/N, on her cold hand slipping from his as the paramedics gently lifted her onto the stretcher. His grip faltered, but he didn’t want to let go. Please don’t leave me, his mind screamed, but reality was moving too fast.

“Y-yeah, I’m coming,” he whispered, wiping his face with the back of his hand, trying to clear the tears, but it didn’t matter. They kept coming. He took a shaky breath and stood up, his legs feeling like they might collapse beneath him. He had to move.

“I need Lee Know. Where is he?” Chan asked, his voice hoarse as he searched frantically for a familiar face.

One of the managers, still on the phone, glanced up from her conversation. “His changing room. He doesn’t know anything’s going on right now,” she said quickly, cutting off the call. “Go get Lee Know now,” she ordered another staff member, who immediately ran off in search of the missing member.

Chan nodded, turning to go after Y/N’s stretcher, but a shout stopped him in his tracks.

“Hyung!”

His heart skipped a beat. He turned, finding Felix in I.N’s arms, his face streaked with tears, his body shaking violently. Han, still in a state of panic, had managed to get through the crowd and was now crumpled into Chan’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

“This is my fault, hyung! This is all my fault!” Han choked out between gasps for air, his voice thick with guilt. “She won’t forgive me, she won’t forgive me…”

Chan’s heart broke for him. He pulled Han closer, trying to soothe him, even though his own chest felt like it was being crushed. “Hey… shh,” he cooed softly, brushing his hand through Han’s hair. “Stop. It’s not your fault. You hear me? None of this is your fault. Don’t think like that.”

Han’s sobs only grew louder, and Chan, desperate to calm him, took off his sweater and wrapped it around Han’s shoulders. He was only wearing a vest, and Chan could see how shaken and cold he was. “Let’s go to the hospital, yeah?” Chan said, his voice firm but gentle.

Han nodded slowly, wiping his face with a trembling hand. “Yeah… yeah, hyung.”

Before they could move, another voice cut through the commotion, sharp and full of rage.

“Hyung?! What the hell?!”

Chan turned to find Lee Know standing at the edge of the crowd, his face flushed with anger and confusion. His brow was furrowed, and his eyes—bloodshot from lack of sleep and stress—were scanning the room in disbelief.

“Why wasn’t I told before? Where is she? What the hell happened?” Lee Know was seething, his voice low but furious, and Chan felt his stomach drop.

“She’s with the paramedics,” Chan said quickly, trying to keep his voice steady despite the chaos. “I need you to take the kids and meet me at the hospital. Please.”

Lee Know barely seemed to hear him. His eyes were still darting around the room, searching for something, anything, that could make sense of the mess. “Okay, but if she dies, I swear to God…” His voice trembled with emotion, a dangerous edge creeping into his words. “I’ll sue this company. I don’t care about my image. If anything happens to her…”

“Lee Know, not now, please…” Chan interrupted, his voice pleading as he grabbed his phone from the assistant who had been trying to help him. He needed to leave. He needed to be with her. “Just take care of the kids. Get them to the hospital.”

Lee Know nodded sharply, his face tight with a mix of anger and worry. He didn’t say anything more as he reached for Han, pulling him gently out of Chan’s arms. “I got you, Han. Let’s go.”

Chan didn’t have time to process it all. He was already rushing through the crowd, trying to catch up with the paramedics. His mind was a blur, thoughts racing too fast to make sense of them. All that mattered was Y/N. He had to be with her.

As he finally caught up with the paramedics, his heart skipped again. He sat in the back as he watched them work. He could hear them talking to each other, medical jargon flying over his head, but he didn’t care about any of it. His eyes were fixed on Y/N’s pale form, her chest rising and falling with the aid of an oxygen mask. Her face was still, and the blood on her clothes haunted him, more than any words could.

"Y/N…" he whispered, his voice cracking. "Please, stay with me. Please."

One of the paramedics glanced at him, then at Y/N. "We’re almost there, sir. We need you to stay calm. We’ll do everything we can."

But Chan barely heard them. His grip on his phone tightened, his thumb brushing over the screen as he dialed Changbin, his mind only focused on one thing: whoever did this had to pay.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Don't forget to reblog and follow! <3

A/N: Thank you @galaxy4489!

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[deadghosy]

can i have a headcanon for lucifer morningstar with elder sister! reader? I am just in desperate need for family stuff. Like elder sister! reader is nto weak and as powerful as lucifer (maybe a tiny bit stronger since th eboth of them are archangel).

Like elder sister!reader decided to follow her younger brother lucifer to hell by becoming a fallen angel too because she is very worried for him. (even knowing the punishment are brutal and harsh but she does not care) I would love if you make the dynamic between the two where reader is the more sterner, fiercer and scary one (like maybe she used to be a commander of an angel army before) and then lucifer is just a little guy who loves ducks (he can beat ass too lol) thanks for reading and i will appreciate a lot if you start writing my ideas! take care!

ELDER SISTER! READER X PLATONIC HAZBIN HOTEL

Prompt: You are the elder sister of Lucifer Morningstar who couldn’t help but fall down for your young brother.

Warning:: Episode 8 mentions

Your brother, Lucifer Morningstar fell because of his “differences” being called a “trouble maker.” And simply having different ideas. You were different from your former younger brother as you were stern and serious at all times. But when Lucifer went to court and got sent to his own creation. Your eyes widen with fear and shocked.

You didn’t want to question things at the moment. But as hours, days, weeks, months, and then a few years pass. You couldn’t help but had enough as you started to question Sera and her rules. You didn’t believe in this type of punishment your younger brother had. But you guessed it was enough to the point you fell too.

YEARS LATER

You live with Lucifer as he was happy to see you were alive and well. Immediately when you came by his palace with your wings spout out that looked like his. He was ecstatic. He jumped into your arms with silly smile. He always loved being in your arms as he was scared how you would think of him when he fell. But you?! He was confused.

He asked you as you told him what happened and Lucifer felt his heart melt seeing his older sister care for him that much. And he started to cry while you sigh with a smile not surprised at this. You gave him a napkin which he gladly took letting you in his home which is now your home.

After he calmed down he told you how he has a daughter but an ex wife. You raised a brow as he explains his relationship with Lilith. You guess it must brought him to depression as his eye were having bags. So you cheered him up with a few fireworks which made his eyes light up as if he was a child again.

You became the 2nd ruler of hell as you were the commander back in heaven. But not any more.

Lucifer tried to tell you how he tried to give “his” people freedom and they ruined it, but you didn’t care as you put a hand out signaling him to stop. Lucifer listened looking down.

“I do not care. They shall not use freedom this way. But don’t worry young brother.” You patted his shoulder. “I won’t be harsh.”

And indeed you weren’t harsh but you were strict around some of pentagram city. Sinners understand the assignment immediately and there were less crimes around.

HEADCANNONS:

You know that meme where a person and standing there calmly and the other person is going crazy and bouncing around?

Yeah that’s you and Lucifer…cause he was being hyper fixated about his ducks to you as you just stood there and smile softly.

That soft mother like smile of yours made Lucifer feel like home as he explains more to you.

Hell, when he would miss you he would make a small opera where you had joined him in hell and how you would fix him dinner or breakfast when he came home. Just like a normal human family.

If you were getting messed with, Lucifer is full on demon mode as you held him back by his white coat with a sigh. He knows you can protect yourself but damn. He sure can throw a mean punch at assholes.

You guys do hobbies together, like he would make ducks and you would do [hobby]. It was always a calm day

I headcannon Lucifer to follow behind you like a lost duckling while you walk around the palace doing your job. You’re taller than him obviously cause you are powerful. It’s an adorable sight though.

When Charlie heard that she had an aunt, and you were in hell too! She was amazed with stars in her eyes as she wanted to meet you immediately.

And so you did. You showed up at the hotel with an angelic smile as Alastor narrowed his eyes at you but still kept a smile. You hug Charlie as she hugged you back while jumping. Charlie starts to rant about her dreams and it made you realized how much she is Lucifer’s daughter as you smile down at her.

But then she tells you how the angels are going to attack the hotel and that made you sigh as you held a dark gaze.

You have just met your niece and no one shall harm her and her dreams.

It was basically giving, “I have just met Charlie and I would kill someone for her!”😭

So when the battle started unnoticed by you. Lucifer notified you about what’s happening as your eyes widen quickly with a flash. A red mist makes Lucifer coughs covering his nose. He had forgotten how quick you were at times.

As you fly down with heavy wings, Adam and lute over a force field. You let out a breath happy to see that the hotel was fine. Until Adam broke it as your eyes widen. You swoop in killing the Exorcists left and right.

As you kill Lucifer pops up seeing Adam tormenting his daughter, bringing out his protectiveness. He saved Charlie only for Adam to get up and berate them. You fly down gracefully holding a cold look.

“Woah, didn’t know sweet tits had fallen like her loser bro-”

Before he could say anything, a heavenly glowing light beams through him as Adam gasps on the floor holding his chest. Everything went silent as people were shocked at the one shot.

“That’s my sister, AND your aunt!” Lucifer says elbowing Charlie gently with a smug smile as Charlie is jaw dropped at how you can one shot someone.

Hopefully you liked it <33

[sun-kissy]

crystals | r.b.

regulus black x whimsical!reader

“Baby,” Regulus’ voice comes out two parts affection and one part exasperation as he feels your knees pressing down into the bed on either side of him. You hum distractedly in response, mind wandering to places he knows he can never follow.

He cracks his eyes open, a small smile involuntarily making its way onto his face at the sight of you. You’re as pretty as you always are, so pretty he wonders if you’re actually a dryad of some sort. You certainly look the part, with daisies braided into your hair and miniature toadstool earrings.

He watches as you outstretch your fingers to fiddle with the chain on his neck, your eyebrows bunched in concentration. Your tongue juts out of your lip adorably as you bite down on it, and he resists the urge to kiss you senseless.

The chain Regulus was wearing was nothing more than a thick black string, but it was knotted around various small crystals, courtesy of your hobby of collecting them. When he had first asked you out with a ring, you had shyly given him this string with a single crystal hanging from it – a rose quartz. “For my unconditional love,” you had mumbled, blushing so hard he thought you mirrored a rose. But the pink that coated your cheeks was a lovelier shade than any flower he had laid his eyes on.

From then on, you would knot new crystals onto the string whenever you found them. Regulus was pretty sure some of them had to have been rocks or pebbles, but he loved you too much not to indulge you.

“Mon chéri,” he tries again, amusement seeping into his tone. “It’s 5 in the morning.”

“So?” you ask distractedly, your fingers still tugging and pulling his necklace from side to side. “5AM is when the crystals are most active, you know. This is when they pull the most power from the core of the earth,” you explain matter-of-factly, so dedicated to your task that you don’t notice his smile widening.

You sway forward slightly, unable to balance on the balls of your knees. Regulus silently wraps his palms around your hips, tugging downward until you’re comfortably seated on his stomach.

That was when he noticed you had odd-shaped stones in one of your hands, sunlight reflecting off of them to give a pale blue glow. “What are those?”

You perk up at his question, abandoning your task of trying to tie the stones onto the string. Your head tilts upwards to give him a sunny smile. “They’re aquamarine crystals, obviously.”

“Yeah?” he murmurs, his smile softening. It doesn’t matter how many times you do this, it’s always just as endearing to him. The way you smile fondly at him – like he’s silly for not knowing.

“Yeah,” you beam. “I found these in the stream nearby, the one next to the big daisy field with all the horsies.”

“You walked into the water again, then?”

It’s too laden with fondness to sound accusatory, but you turn slightly sheepish anyway, nodding. Your hands find their way back to his necklace, and this time you manage to loop the string around a crystal successfully. Your face lights up, obviously pleased with your work.

He huffs out a laugh, leaning forward to run his hands down your long skirt. As expected, he finds it damp and sticky. “You’ll have to take a bath, mon amour.”

“In the stream?”

“No,” he mutters, trying but failing to conceal his amused grin. He presses his elbows into the mattress, hoisting himself upwards to press an amorous kiss to your forehead. He can’t help himself, the blush on your cheeks and the shy smile too much for his heart to handle. “In the shower, baby.”

“Oh,” you reply as a way of answer, and Regulus can’t help but chuckle at the slight disappointment in your voice. “Maybe I can shower in the water tomorrow, then? With all the ducks. These ducks are nice; they eat the bread I throw at them. You can come too if you’d like.”

“Maybe,” he replies indulgently, with absolutely no intention of letting you bathe with the ducks instead of with him — but he was never one to deny you anything you asked for.