#but my plant should be happier now

[femgineerasolution]

I finally feel like I've finished a useful home electronics project

The enviro board: boxed and connected

My plant: watered

My data: collected

The little solar panel: not really charging the battery but that's fine!

The board came from pimoroni along with the moisture sensors, but I've modified their software so that it can monitor the plant moisture, but also check the pot isn't going to overflow and that there's still water for the pump to... Pump. The pump was separate (as they were out) but works fine, and is below the pot so I don't accidentally siphon the water

Maybe next I'll actually re-pot the plant, which I just learned I maybe should have been doing over the last four years, and would definitely help it look less dead (there's two living sections that I should have split off, the brown bits are previous growth)

[theinkchild]

so, i've had this jar full of snails and algae on my windowsill for 2 years now. only today, i just started seeing some strange activity.

started seeing some dense translucent fluid sink down in little strands?

i would assume it's the snails breaking down the new dead plant parts i placed ontop. just figured i'd talk about this here briefly incase remotely anyone knows what that is.

didn't want to get too far into detail since i can't be bothered rn lol

[screampied]

“. . do you . . know what happens after death, sweetheart?”

the words that slipped out of nanami’s lips struck you right in the very depths of your heart.

it stung—a sharp prod that made the very crevices of your mouth twitch. his hands, his once warm and loving hands started to grow abnormally cold. frigid to where you even started to adapt to his chilled temperature.

“no why….” you started, feeling your throat tighten. “why are you asking me that, kento?” you sniffle, tightly interlocking your fingers with his.

he stares at you with a warm smile spreading across his lips.

regardless of his current position, peacefully resting his back against the ground—his inevitable fate had finally caught up to him.

nanami’s breathing patterns changed significantly. everything was so loud, all he could make out through his peripherals was splotches of blur and your pretty worried face. “. . because,” he continues, and his speech was so slow. you could tell he was trying to get every word out, every syllable, every vowel. just for you and only you. “i’m about to find out, my love . .”

your irises focused on him. nothing else, no one else—just him.

you’ve never seen him like this. so pale, so weak, so . . . scared.

his pure emotion, it showed in his eyes. his perfect brown eyes that you never failed to get lost in. for the first time in what was probably forever, nanami felt…scared. he tried his best to conceal it in front of you though. but even his best wasn’t enough, because you probably knew him better than you knew yourself.

“don’t say things like that, kento,” you mutter, already feeling that annoying plump knot rise up in your throat. your breath was shaky, tremble after tremble. “you’re fine. you can get up. we can get up.”

he knew when you said we, you implied that you’d both be walking away together — hand in hand, like in those stupid cheesy movies you’d watch with him every sunday after he gets off work. but alas, reality was quite harsh to face. an even more incredible tough pill to swallow. nanami knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

it was irksome, you had to squeeze your eyes shut to prevent a single tear to roll down your cheek.

nanami’s eyelids were hanging on by a thread, just barely open. he was trying—trying so hard to hang on, a small pout curls against his lips before he huffs out a single breath.

“ah . . forgive me, you’re right,” he says, his thumb swiftly stroking the front of your hand. a single tear escapes past your lower damp eyelid. even his voice sounded different. a voice you grew to love, so sweet and protective. it now sounded incredibly tired. you could hear a slight wheeze between breaths of his. “hey, don’t cry. don’t do that, look at me.”

his voice was so soft, you sniffled—despising the irritating tears that started to run down both sides of your temples. if it was anything nanami couldn’t stand, it was that he couldn’t stand to see the love of his life shed such sweet pitiful tears for him.

you looked at him, watching his eyelids struggle to stay open for you. everything ached, his body didn’t even feel like his own anymore. it was an indescribable feeling from when he got struck, laying against the slick cold floor of the shibuya train station.

“. . d-don’t leave me,” was all you managed to say, your lips was trembling, your heart pounded and you didn’t wanna say goodbye just yet. “kento, i need you.”

“hm? what are you mumblin’ about, sweetheart? ‘m right here.” his voice, it sounded happier.

you furrowed your eyebrows, now finding yourself buried into nanami’s bare chest, damp chin pressing against his pecs and all.

you were here safe and sound, snuggled up all against him, as you should be. it took you a long while to calm down, he’s staring at you with a soft loving gaze—a brief look of concern before you mumble out a, “..kento? are you okay?”

“why wouldn’t i be, baby?” nanami hums, a soft thumb stroking your back. with a relaxed breath, he leans in to plant a gentle kiss near the very tip of your forehead. his touch was forevermore soothing, a touch you never wanted to forget.

you let off a jittery sigh of relief, finally coming to the conclusion that it was another one of your horrid nightmares. you had nothing to worry about.

he was fine.

you were fine,

everything was fine.

. . is what you kept telling yourself.

nanami never told you those words, he didn’t kiss the tip of your forehead or stroke your back lovingly whilst staring into your eyes. the only true unbearable truth was that nanami was gone.

he was gone, and his last words weren’t even “i love you,” or “i’m sorry.” on his fatal dying breaths, nanami’s last words to you while squeezing your hand, sliding a ring into your palm, he rasps out a breathy, “will . . you marry me?”

but before you could tell him yes, he was already gone.

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

There's apparantly a ratty little blanket that Astarion brings with him into whatever tents and caverns he goes to that has been dubbed his "safety blanket"-- and now I'm obsessed with seeing a ficlet about that. *puppy eyes* <3

Hiiiii sorry for the long wait. Been busy since school started and also really tired. Hope you enjoy!

You let out a quiet sigh, staring up at the roof of the tent as you have been for the past…you've lost count how long it's been since you first laid down in your shared bedroll with Astarion. Tomorrow is the day you take the fight back to Ketheric Thorm and despite knowing that his immortality has been removed, you can't help but feel nervous about the fight that lies ahead.

Turning over to your side, you realise Astarion is just as restless as you are, and is fiddling with the worn blanket you've caught only glimpses of previously. He hugs it closely to his chest, playing with a corner of the fabric and you lean in closer.

"Can't sleep either?"

Astarion scowls in response, quickly stashing his worn blanket away and turns over to face you, leaning forward to plant a chaste kiss to your lips. You smile when his gaze softens, even if it's just for that split second and laugh when he huffs in response.

"I was about to trance when you disturbed me."

"Sure you were," you hum, tucking a white curl behind his ear. You feel him shift, pressing closer against you and feel his arms wrap themselves around your waist. Each breath you let out ruffles his hair and you feel his cool skin beneath your fingertips. His ratty blanket peeks out from where he hastily tucked it beneath the corner of his pillow and you gently pry it out, the rough fabric scratching against your skin.

"I'm surprised you keep something like this. I pegged you for someone who prefers luxury and comfort."

You feel Astarion tense, his clawed fingertips pricking your skin and you shift, wondering if you should give him some space. Your worried gaze meets his crimson eyes and you sense a hint of sorrow in those eyes. He shakily inhales, then exhales and crumples into your embrace.

"That…" His voice trails off. "That's one of the few things I ever owned. Before you, before all of this."

"I'm sorry," you murmur. "I shouldn't have."

He shakes his head, "you were bound to find out about this some day."

He blindly reaches for the blanket, hugging it to his chest when you hand it to him. He looks so small, so vulnerable when he curls around the blanket, it makes your heart ache for him. His scars shine pale underneath the moonlight, yet another reminder of the life he once led, of the shackles he has yet to fully throw off. In that moment you vow silently once more to help him strike his chains off, to watch as he tastes true freedom.

When Astarion speaks again, his voice is soft, the complete opposite of his usual tone.

"All the spawn always fought over the beds in our room, all the beds except one, tucked away in the corner. That bed was always reserved for me, everyone knew I always came back covered in fluids and no one wanted to go anywhere near the bed that was possibly contaminated with those fluids. No one wanted to touch the blanket on it either, but I was fine with that. It meant the bed was mine, the blanket was mine, and I was happy about it. Cazador stole everything from me — my life, my body, my everything. To have something to call my own, it made me happier than anything ever could. It felt like a small defiance in Cazador's face, to still retain something when he tried to strip me of everything. When I fled the castle, the only thing I could bring along was this blanket and the clothes on my back."

He plays with a loose thread dangling from the edge of the blanket, letting you gently rub circles on his back. He presses against you, leaning into your warm touch. You press a kiss to the top of his head, relishing in the comfort your beloved vampire brings simply by being right next to you.

"I'm surprised it's still in one piece," you trace a finger over the fabric, feeling the little bumps where it has been stitched over. "Did you patch the holes up yourself?"

"Of course I did. As if I'd let anyone else touch something so precious."

Still, he makes no motion to pull his precious blanket away from you. Your hands brush against each other, sending tingles up your spine, a quiet chuckle slipping from your lips.

"Will you teach me how to sew?" His eyes widen at your suggestion, and then the smirk you're all too familiar with forms on his face.

"Under my tutelage? You'll learn well, but you won't ever be as good as me."

You laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "That's all I need."

He smiles a genuine smile that lets his fangs peek through, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Underneath the moonlight he looks ethereal, the moon's glow outlining his figure. He then closes the distance between the both of you, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss that you wish will never end, but your lungs beg for oxygen and you are forced to break the kiss.

"You have more than just the blanket now. I am yours, every fibre of my being, forevermore." You press your forehead against his, closing your eyes as you breathe in his familiar scent. He cradles you in return, soaking in the warmth you exude.

When you open your eyes once again, there's a glimmer in his eyes that wasn't there before. He nuzzles into your shoulder, smiling contentedly and drifts off into a trance, his worn blanket left forgotten. You hold him in your arms, feeling sleep finally take over, all stress forgotten.

There are words left unsaid, but they will be spoken in due time, that you're sure of. After all, a life waits for you at the end of this journey, wherever it may bring you. Somehow deep down, you know this to be true. The words can wait until the time is right, but until then, you're contented to know that you are his and nothing can ever change that.

[nicka-nell]

Getting interrupted during sexy time

Pairing: Osamu x, Ushijima x, Iwaizumi x reader

Warning: fluff, slightly nsfw, mdni, 18+

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

You are in Osamu's and Atsumu's apartment. Atsumu is at his training and you are alone with Osamu. 

Due to the construction of his onigiri store, you've hardly had any time to spend together in the last few weeks. So you were all the happier to be finally back in his powerful arms. Even if he smells of paint, sweat and food. 

"Samu, I love you, but you really stink," you say as he holds you tight in his arms and can't help but laugh. 

"Sorry, I should probably go take a shower and then we can watch a movie in bed and..." he grins mischievously at you, watching you raise your eyebrow. You know exactly what he has in mind. And it's definitely not watching a movie in bed. "We could just take a shower together. I'll help you soap up and..." you say playfully and feel Osamu's hands move from your waist down to your legs. He lifts you up without hesitation and walks towards the bathroom. "Your plan sounds much better, baby." 

It's not long before Osamu rips the clothes off your body, takes his off just as quickly and throws them into a corner, just to pull you into the shower. "Shit baby, did I tell you that you're the best for telling us to make sure we had a big floor-level shower when we bought the apartment?" Osamu says between your passionate kisses, before closing the shower curtain and turning on the water. 

Your kisses get wilder and wilder. His hands press you against the cool tiles of the shower when you suddenly hear the door to the bathroom open.

"Oi Samu, m'back. Sorry if I'm disturbing ya, but I have to piss so bad. I must have drunk 2 liters of water during training." Says Atsumu who rushes into the bathroom and opens the toilet lid and starts emptying his bladder. "Oh shiiiit, that's so fuckin' good," Atsumu sighs as you stare wide-eyed and angry at Osamu, who narrows his eyes in frustration. 

"Are ya fuckin' serious, Tsumu? I'm taking a shower!" grumbles Osamu. But Atsumu doesn't seem to care. "So what? Should I pee in our plants or what? We're twins. I've seen yer dick more often as a child than yer sweet wifey." Atsumu replies before pulling his pants back up. 

You hope so much that he just disappears quickly and you can hit Osamu for not locking the door. 

"Gosh.... When you're done, go. For fucks sake just go. Just because we're twins doesn't mean ya have to hold my hand while I shower." Osamu says annoyed. Atsumu however, just sighs and is about to leave before he turns around again. "Then just lock up next time. Oh and... by the way, hi, favorite sister-in-law." You don't have to see it to know that Atsumu is looking towards the shower curtain with a big grin on his silly face before he leaves the bathroom. 

Embarrassed, you slap your hands over your face. "Shit, he's seen the clothes," you say, knowing full well that he'll be teasing you for months. You're probably not even thinking about sex now. 

Ushijima is not someone who would sleep with you in the wildest or riskiest places. On the opposite, that kind of intimacy takes place in the bedroom. Well, maybe occasionally in the kitchen when he's watching you prepare his food and just looking sexy. 

So it's not really common for the two of you to be caught by anyone. Actually…

It's a normal evening like any other when you walk into the bedroom to Ushijima, who is already in bed. You snuggle under the covers with him and lean against him while he sets his alarm for tomorrow on his cell phone. 

You caress his bare abs, feel yourself wanting more than just to go to sleep and start playing with the waistband of his trunks. 

"Honey, I have to get up early tomorrow," Ushijima interrupts you, putting down his phone and looking at you with his rather monotone gaze, but you recognize a small smile. 

"We don't have to prolong it artificially..." you say playfully and sit down on his pelvis.

Ushijima says nothing more. Instead his hands automatically move to your hips, gripping them tightly while his gaze becomes increasingly hungry. 

He watches you as you take off your top, your bare breasts visible, as you sit on him in just your panties. 

You lift your pelvis, pulling slowly on your panties to pull them down slightly and tease Ushijima a little as he grabs you and switches positions. Now you're lying on your back, Ushijima in front of you before he quickly pulls the panties off your legs. "You said we wouldn't drag it out unnecessarily," he says in a low voice before he takes off his trunks and bends over you. "Do we need lube?" "Hell no, just start." you say greedily. 

Ushijima does as you command and starts thrusting into you, lifting your pelvis slightly upwards and looking deep into your eyes. "Mhh baby yes." you moan, enjoying this moment when suddenly his cell phone rings next to you on the bedside cabinet. 

You both look at his cell phones briefly. Tendou Satori....

Seriously... now? "Toshi, baby, you can call Satori back later," you say as you feel his thrusts slow down a bit. 

"But what if it's important?" he asks. "If you stop now, that will be the last time we have sex," you say angrily as you pant.

"Then I won't stop... but then try not to be too loud," he says suddenly, leaning forward towards you and moving his hips more aggressively again as he reaches for his cell phone and clicks accept. 

He turns the cell phone to loudspeaker, puts it next to you and buries his head in your neck. 

"Hey, Satori, are you okay?" Ushijima tries to say as neutrally as possible while he's balls-deep inside you. You try to shut down your moans, finding the situation surprisingly arousing. Probably because you've never done anything so 'risky' before. 

"Hahahaha Ushiwaka did you really just answer the phone while you were sleeping with your wife? Ui ui ui you really have a lot to learn. I only know stuff like having sex while talking to someone on the phone from a filthy manga. But well, next time pay attention to whether you're being called by video call or by normal call. Your camera is on." Tendou laughs in his usual crazy way as you both get wide-eyed and look at the phone next to you, which reflects Ushijima's naked upper body. 

Ushijima hastily grabs the cell phone and presses the hang-up button with the words "I'll call you back." 

Sighing, he leans his head against your chest, and while you take it with humor and can't suppress your laughter, Ushijima will certainly never do anything else when you two get intimate. 

Iwaizumi and you are visiting Oikawa in Argentina with your friends and have booked a two-week vacation. You are all staying in a hotel. Everyone has their own room, but of course you and Iwaizumi share one.

During the first week you have already done a lot with your friends and you have once again realized how annoying Oikawa can sometimes be. He was always teasing you two "lovebirds". Of course, he always meant it sweetly, but today you were happy to be alone with Iwaizumi in your hotel room in the evening and to go to dinner with him in the hotel restaurant. Alone!

Freshly showered, you come out of the bathroom and are about to go to the wardrobe to pick out an outfit for the evening when you can't take your eyes off Iwaizumi. 

Iwaizumi is already an attractive man. But what makes him even more attractive than he already is? Right when he stands in front of the mirror in his suit trousers and a shirt and rolls up his shirt sleeves to show off his muscular forearms. 

"Oh baby, you're playing a dangerous game," you say in a seductive voice as you walk towards him, still with your towel wrapped around you. 

Iwaizumi turns to you, eyeing you with a grin. "I'm playing a dangerous game? Says the one who comes out of the shower looking so sexy," says Iwaizumi, and pulls you close to give you a kiss. 

You push him away with a giggle and look at him sheepishly. "The towel is still slightly wet... you're ruining your clothes," you say, pulling his shirt back into place. 

"You know... we've been traveling all week... what do you say we order the food up here today? Room service? Then we'll have a bit of time to burn off a few... calories beforehand? What do you think?" Iwaizumi whispers in your ear as he pulls you close again and starts kissing your neck. 

How can you say no to this offer? You think to yourself, already feeling the warmth rising to your head. With a pleasant murmur, you agree before moving your hands from his collar to the buttons of his shirt, opening them bit by bit to touch his abs with your fingertips. 

"Let me just order room service. For in an hour?" he asks as he gently starts kissing your neck up to your shoulder blade. He pulls on your towel before it falls to the floor and he pushes you onto the bed behind you. 

"Sounds good." you say, biting your lip as Iwaizumi eyes you hungrily. He takes a deep breath before forcing himself to concentrate on the phone call for just a moment longer. 

While he calls room service and orders dinner, you sit upright on the bed and start undoing the belt of his pants, pulling them down, including his boxer briefs. 

The call is over in seconds when Iwaizumi quickly takes off his open shirt and leans forward, grasping your face with his hands and pushing you back down onto the bed. "Oh baby, you don't know how much I want you right now," he moans with a deep voice. 

You don't want to wait any longer either and wrap your legs around his hips. 

You kiss passionately, his hands caress your body as if you hadn't seen each other for months and it doesn't take long before you give in to your lust completely. 

Iwaizumi knows exactly what you like, how he has to move so that you moan for him in the most beautiful tones and, as expected, it doesn't stop at just one round. 

You're like new lovers who can't keep their hands off each other, while you've already forgotten the number of orgasms or how many rounds this is now. The fourth?

"God baby I love you." moans Iwaizumi, on the verge of cumming, when suddenly someone knocks on the door. You both flinch. Out of breath, you look up at him. 

"It must be room service with the food," you say as your chest heaves up and down, your legs already trembling from all the heights.  "Yes... wait, stay there, I'll take care of it." Iwaizumi says, a little exhausted by now, sweat glistening on his body. He carefully detaches himself from you, gives you another gentle kiss on the forehead before grabbing a bathrobe from the closet and wrapping it around himself before heading for the door. "Coming..." he says, opening the door just a crack to take the food so that the hotel employee doesn't see your naked body lying in bed. 

However, it is not the hotel employee standing in the doorway. It is Oikawa, Matsukawa and Yahaba. Oikawa happily pulls the door open and is about to enter the room with the words "Let's eat together! We've got pizza and drinks!" when the three men see you in bed with and how you quickly try to cover your body with the sheets and before they can say anything, Iwaizumi throws them out of the hotel room and slams the door. "I really don't need your face here right now, Shittykawa! Get out of here!" 

The second week of vacation you all planned together was a mixture of awkward eye contact and teasing from the others. 

A vacation with friends is no longer on your list for a long time. 

[channieshaven]

Primal

genre: smut

pairing: bang chan x reader

word count 1.2k

warnings: primal play, dumbification, chan is aggressive but it's all in good fun

~~~

You sat on the couch of your shared home, waiting for Chan to come home. He had promised you this morning to indulge in a fantasy you had brought up several nights ago, thinking it over and wanting you to prepare for it. So here you sat. Impatiently. Nerves building in your stomach. Suddenly you hear the front door unlocking, your eyes darting to it. Chan walks in and he’s carrying himself in a much darker way than he had been when he left this morning.

He stares at you and grins devilishly, “Aww sweetheart, are you not going to even try to run?”

You snap out of the haze you were in and feel a shiver run down your spine at his words, dashing off from the couch and out of the living room. Your mind deliberates on where to run to, and out of desperation you run to the kitchen.

You can see Chan approaching you as you make your way around the island.

He approaches the other side of the island and brings his hands down hard to grip it, making you jolt.

“You silly little girl.” He tsks, his voice dripping with venom.

You stare at him wide eyed, and begin to run away from the kitchen, barley skirting past him as he lunges forward to grab you. The next place you make a run for is upstairs. Perhaps not the best choice but it’s all your mind could think of in its current panicky state.

Your feet are racing up the stairs quicker than you can process and before you can get your bearings you feel yourself slip just as you make it to the top floor.

Chan couldn’t be happier to find you in the perfect position for him, stomping up the stairs menacingly.

You look back to see him and attempt to bring yourself to your feet but your legs fail you, letting a whimper out in frustration.

Chan hovers over you, feet planted on both your sides as he lowers himself to be on top of you, grabbing a handful of your hair and yanking your head up with it.

“How could you be so stupid, baby? Did anything run through that brain of yours?” He mocks.

He leans forward to bite harshly into your shoulder, causing you to let out a cry. “Little bunnies shouldn’t even try, should they? They should just let the big bad wolf have them, huh?” He questions.

You struggle to form a response, choosing to let out a whine instead.

He scoffs, “Are you that dumb, baby? Can’t even say anything back?”

He shifts from being on your back to fully standing up, his hand still holding a firm grip on your hair, pulling you up and dragging you to the bedroom as you attempt to keep up with his fast pace, trying to not stumble over your own feet.

Chan throws you onto the bed and begins attacking your neck in a mixture of kisses and bites as you lie down, squirming beneath him as he smirks into your skin.

He pauses his assault on your neck to rip the top adorning you clean off, which had you thanking yourself for wearing an old lousy top you won’t miss.

“Mine.” He grunts out as he paws at your breasts, mixing in kisses as he feels you up. You watch him take a nipple into his mouth and swirl his tongue around it before lightly grazing his teeth on it, causing you to arch your back into the sensation, feeling him grin around you.

“I bet my naughty girl is soaked right now.” He growls out before moving to yank your shorts down to the floor.

He steps back to admire the wet patch forming in your panties, chuckling he says, “You like when I rough you up, huh?”

All you can do is nod in response, already feeling so fucked out. He moves back to hover over you, caging you in with his arms as he admires his prey prettily lying beneath him.

“Oh my pretty girl, I’m going to ruin you.” He says smiling, voice sounding soft, but his intentions are anything but. “Bet I don’t even need to prep you. You’re so wet right now I’m sure I could just slip right in, isn’t that right, baby?” He teases, stroking your hair softly.

You shake your head, responding with, “I’m ready. Want you to stretch me out. Make it fit.”

He sucks in a breath, obviously effected by your words. “That’s right. I’ll make it fit.” He pulls your panties down harshly to which you kick them off.

He unbuckles his belt and discards it to some corner of the room before unzipping his pants and getting his pants off just enough for him to unveil his cock. Despite seeing it several times by now, you can never get tired of the sight of it, taking in the view standing before you. He takes notice of your reaction and smirks to himself.

You’re so swept up in staring at him that you don’t notice him lining himself up with yourself until you feel him plunge into you, gasping at this motion. He gives you no time to adjust, thrusting into you at a relentless pace. “Fuck. Taking me so well.” He moans out, throwing your legs over his shoulders to feel you deeper, hitting just the right spot you needed him to. It feels like air is being knocked out of you with each thrust and you can’t get enough of it, digging your nails into Chan’s back.

“I thought bunnies didn’t scratch” he all but chuckles.

You whine incoherently, “C-Chan- need- please- fuck.”

He grins at your desperation, “You don’t even know what you’re begging for, do you, baby?” His fingers sinking into your thighs, guaranteed to leave marks.

You look down to watch him pummel into you and take notice of his cock bulging through your stomach, gasping at it.

“Fuck. Look at that.” He grunts out and places your hands over the bulge, his hands laying atop yours. “Feel that.”

The moans continue to escape your lips, “Chan, I-I’m gonna-“

“Yeah c’mon, baby. Wanna feel you clench around me.”

His words send you over the edge, encouraging you to finally come undone for him and Chan isn’t far behind. Once again biting into your shoulder as he releases inside of you with a string of moans. He takes a moment and steadies his breathing, pulling out of you and stepping back. “My favorite sight. Watching my cum leak out of you.”

You blush at his vulgarity, feeling shy somehow after all you both just did. He lies down beside you. “Was that what you wanted?” He asks.

Turning to face him you nod, breathing heavily still. “That was exactly what I wanted.”

“It wasn’t too much? I didn’t hurt you right?

I-“ you plant your lips on his to shut him up. “Hey, quit overthinking it. I loved every second of it.“ You comfort him.

He smiles softly, embracing you. “I’ll get you cleaned up but can we lay like this for a moment?” You simply nod, savoring his soft touch, thanking him for indulging in your fantasies.

[autistichalsin]

I CAN'T DECIDE WHAT MAKES MY HEART HAPPIER!

Halsin Silverbough?

Halsin being adored by his kiddos?

Halsin wilddshaping to entertain them and spending over half the day in bear form?

Halsin building an entire school with his bear bare hands?

Halsin getting scritches from the romanced player in wildshape?

Halsin (and romanced player) adopting owlbear who is delighted by this development, and laughing that he did promise the kids a surprirse?

Halsin telling his kiddos bedtime stories?

The player making a joke about wishing they knew they could get bedtime stories from Halsin, and Halsin responding that he would have tucked them in too?

The romanced player getting the chance to tell Halsin he's more than enough, that he should take more pride in his achievements, that he is WORTHY?

Halsin giving the player a whittled duck with a beautiful speech about how they're migratory animals but they always come back?

Halsin talking about how now that his trauma is healed/healing, he feels settled and like he doesn't roam so much, feeling like his roots can plant firmly?

Halsin talking about Thaniel and Oliver being delighted at all their playmates?

Halsin admitting he doesn't want to go back to the Grove nor be archdruid again, though he does correspond- and finds himself remembering that he forgot to find Tusks a mate and must rectify this immediately?

Halsin telling the lamest dad jokes?

Halsin dancing like the whitest dad ever?

Halsin talking about his musical tastes and how the bard likely wouldn't know the oldtimey tunes he enjoys?

Halsin's leather outfit?

BEING ABLE to hug Halsin and he tells you your embrace feels safer than any armor?

I COULD KEEP GOING YOU GUYS

[kaislashes]

Back from the dead once again!

Orc x Reader

NSFW

You always find yourself interested in the boy next door, the one with green skin, tusks and quite large regardless of being the same age as you. Your parents try to drill into your head to stay away from the family of orcs, that they were monsters and brutes. Little to their knowledge you had already befriended him and were more than acquainted. His name was Rafali, he was an outgoing person contrast to your shy demeanor but that didn’t stop him from striking up a conversation. The first time you’d found yourself interacting with him was when you were 12 and, in your backyard, sitting on a lawn chair with a book in hand. Your ripped out of your story when a ball rudely comes flying over the fence separating your yard from the ones that had moved in weeks prior. You pick up the ball and head over to toss it back but your met with a rather deep but young voice, "Im so sorry, I might have overdone that kick." You peak through a gap in the fence and see a young boy, probably no older than yourself. You throw the ball over and introduce yourself, he does the same and you find out his name is Rafali and he should be attending the same school as you soon.

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Youre now 16 and spend all your free time sneaking around to see Rafali who has now become one of your closest friends. He invites you out one night to a move that your parents forbid you from seeing and you definitely arent turning down the offer. Your both giggling and hes helping you sneak out of your window to escape the household. "Shhhhhh, theyre gonna catch us dude." You smile at him as you both start running out of the yard. "Let them." He throws a smile your way as you make your way down the street and slow down once out of sight. "You know I can't, my family is.... judgmental and would kill me if they knew we hung out. I dont want to risk losing you." He slows down and comes to a full stop, turning to look at you. "You know I won't ever let that happen." And all too quickly he's leaning and a planting a small kiss to your lips. At first your stunned and reciprocate the action. The night goes well and you make it home without being caught.

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2 Years have passed since that night, you've both been dating officially since that summer night when you first kissed. You've never been happier. Tonight he invited you over since his parents were leaving town and you were able to come up with an excuse that your friend Ashley was having a girls night so your parents werent suspicious.

You leave the house as normal as possible but inside youre anxious, this would be the first time the both of you were alone and you knew this night would be the start of something serious. It's night like you havent had alone time, youve had plenty of makeout sessions but nothing more. You have to go all the way around the alley to sneak into his back yard so your parents dont see you going in. Hes waiting for you at the back door and lets you in quickly. It doesn't take long before clothes are being shed and heated kisses are exchanged. He has you on his bed, both completely bare and youve never been so shy around him before, youre trying to cover your chest but he grabs your hands. "You don't have to be nervous yknow? I love you so much and I promise Ill be gentle." You swallow and nod, letting him take the lead. He puts your hands above your head and leaves them there. He reaches to the side of the bed to grab a bottle of lube and spills some onto his hand and on your cunt as well. He slowly starts to massage against your clit and you cant help but arch from the feeling. He pushes your hips down. "You need to stay still baby, I dont want to hurt you." You nod as he slowly starts to push a finger in and moan. The feeling is weird at first, almost painful but hes slow and uses his other hand to rub your bundle of nerves. After you start to get used to the feeling he adds and second finger and starts to scissor them, his fingers are so thick that it makes you scared for the actual thing. Once he deems you ready he removes both fingers and lines up his cock, you cant help but stare im disbelief at the sheer size of it. "I dont think thats going to fit." You say nervously. He runs his other hand down your face and tries to reassure you. "We'll make it fit, yeah?" You nod, ready to believe and do anything he asks. You feel him slowly start to push in, the intrusion making you feel so full and some discomfort. He stops once hes fully hilted, you look up at him and his face is pinched, clearly trying to control himself. You reach up and touch his face gently and he opens his eyes, once his meets yours his face softens. "I love you so much." "I love you too." "Then move." I say and thats all he needed. He starts off slowly and the feeling goes from pain to pleasure the more he picks up speed, your moaning loudly and clawing at your lovers back as hes pistoning into your tight warmth while grunting. You feel him reach between you both and start rubbing your clit fast, the feeling of him slamming into you and rubbing sends you over the edge, you cry out his name as you tighten around him and that's all it takes for him to pull out and finish all over your mound. It takes everything in him not to collapse on top of you, he starts to walk away to get a rag but you pull him back. "We can clean later?" You both fall into bed , sweaty, gross but happy.

[volturissideslut]

Hiii! I loved your latest angst! Could you do something for the kings(poly) where the reader is being ignored and compared to (just like the last one), but she's a mother figure to the guards? So one day maybe the kings found one of the guards conforting reader while she asks them why she's not enough. With a fluff ending if possible :)

Thank you in advance!

𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 (𝕻𝖔𝖑𝖞) + 𝕲𝖚𝖆𝖗𝖉 (𝕻𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖓𝖎𝖈)

I don't feel like Aro gets enough spotlight in some of my fics so lets say he's the one to find you

It's a strange feeling, isn't it? Not feeling able to open up to the one's you love most, the ones who are supposed to love you - the ones fated to be with you. And yet that was the exact predicament you seemed to be in at this second.

Sat in the garden they were supposed to grow with you (though it did end up just being you caring for the plants yourself) with your head buried in a shoulder to cry on. But not your lovers, no. Your child's. While biologically you were not the mother to a miss Jane Volturi or a mister Alec Volturi, you could not be happier with the situation you found yourself in with them. It had been so long since they lost their mother to those wretched townsfolk, and yet you seemed to integrate with them so seamlessly. They were fast to trust you, truly a great surprise to others.

But as one fell head over heels for you (platonically, of course) the rest surely did follow not far behind.

"I don't understand" your voice was thick with would-be-tears as you sat side by side with Jane under the willow tree you had grown all those years ago. "Why am I not enough anymore? Why do they not love me anymore? All they do is distance themselves"

A pale hand rakes itself comfortingly through your hair, but no voice follows. Jane, ever the loyal one to her masters, could offer you no answer. She herself couldn't understand their changes.

"Perhaps it is just that they are busy with the preparations for battle, but yet they remain so cold constantly" you sigh, determining it was time to get up and crawl out of this whole of self pity you had dug for yourself. Honestly, you were fully grown and could suck it up for now... right?

However, unbeknown to you, Aro had chosen today of all days to watch over some of the newer guards and make sure the job was getting done well for himself. This had led to him being within earshot of your small doubt-session with Jane (not that he had to be far to hear with vampiric abilities and all)

Had he truly been neglectful of his mate without knowing? Maybe the guard could wait for today, and maybe his and his brothers' personal oversight over the preparations wasn't truly this necessary. And with that, some time was pushed aside with you in mind.

-----

To say you where surprised when Aro was in his chambers was an understatement. And, wow, how silly does that sound? Why should you be surprised that a man was in his own chambers? But with the way time had been divided lately it still did come as quite a shock to the system.

"Ah, Cara Mia, I was waiting for you. I was wonde- ... Are you quite alright, dear?" He interrupts himself seeing the expression on your face, head tilted to the side. Only when you give him a tight lipped smile and a curt nod does he continue, choosing to ignore your current look of discomfort though it does send a pang to his heart. "Yes, well, as a was sating. I was hoping you would accompany me to a theatre tonight. It has been a while, hasn't it?"

Though before you could answer, Caius, dramatic as ever, storms into the room and almost sweeps Aro's neatly organised chamber into a hurricane. "I came as soon as I heard. Where is she?" Poor Aro almost gets an elbow to the face as Caius spins to look.

"Brother, hush, she is here." long arms drape themselves over you and the smell of books, musk, and trees surrounds you. Marcus' brown hair is pulled into a low ponytail, that being the only reason it isn't sprawled all over you as you're pulled deeply into his chest from behind. When did he even get here?

With a pink to the bridge of his nose, Aro steps to you and holds your face in the palm of his hand. "You should have told us, dearest. You should have let us know instead of putting up this facade. We will always have time for you. I promised you eternity, did I not?"

With a nod from you you're released from Marcus' hold and brought into Aro's.

"That goes for the rest of us as well" a blond bob appears before you and spins you into his own grasp like he has done many times before when you danced. (Marcus and Aro used to get irritated by it, but all is forgiven when they hear you giggle and spin with him, both in the ballroom and now)

"Now, correct me if i'm wrong, but i think we are long overdue some quality time"

[radio-writes]

I'll go with:

"You win"

"Why should I stay?"

"And what will you do? Run from me?"

It Seems the Devil and I Walked Hand in Hand

300 Followers Event

Warnings: Forced cannibalism, gore, murder, stockholm syndrome

Tags: Alastor x reader, GN reader, yandare, reader goes insane, dead dove do not eat

MDNI

A humid breeze blew through your hair, the putrid stench of Hell carried with it. Somewhere in the distance, something—whatever it may be this time—exploded, prompting usual screams of terror.

But your heart fluttered, eyes fixated on your friend next to you. You sat side by side with them, on a random hilltop the two of you stumbled upon. It was quiet, but barely out of the chaos of the main pentagram. 

"What? What is it?" They laughed as they finally called you out on your staring.

You almost swooned as their warm brown eyes met yours. "You just have the prettiest set of eyes in all of Hell, that's all."

You had been so proud of that. So happy about how smooth you were at the delivery. Giddy about the blush that crept onto your friend's face.

The same warm brown eyes—Hell's prettiest, as Alastor so kindly reminded you—stared back at you now. 

Unseeing.

Without its owner's head anywhere near.

On a plate placed before you.

Your blood felt like ice as you hung your head low. Unable to think. Unable to feel. Unable to breathe, maybe, you weren't really sure anymore.

"Afraid I might have gotten carried away, dear. I was absolutely starving since you stood me up on our lunch meeting." Alastor's tone was as bright and cheerful as it always was—you could almost argue that it was even happier now. "Of course, I did save you their eyes. I knew how much you just loved them."

He continued on, sighing and swooning about this and that. How it had been a while since he had such a satisfying meal. How it was all thanks to you for leading him to it. How he can't wait to meet more of your friends—if you ever managed to make any after the show he put on for you.

But you sat still, mind unable to comprehend what actually sat in front of you. Alastor might as well have been talking from three rooms away for all you heard from him. His voice almost sounding like it came from underwater, barely able to pierce through the fog in your head.

It was only when the demon who sat across from you stabbed a fork through an eyeball on your plate, did your senses come back. Like a flipped switch, you could hear well again, in time to hear the disgusting squish of the organ, blood and fluids spilling as it was stabbed.

"Don't let it go cold now, my dear. I went through so much trouble to get them intact and still warm for you." Alastor smiled as he sat across you.

One of his elbows rested on the table, hand cradling his cheek as you met his gaze. The gleeful, cold red eyes sickened you much more than the gore he held up. He raised the fork to you. Your friend's eye at the end of it. "Say Aaah~"

You pressed your lips together. Whether to resist the cruel torture, or to keep the bile from coming out, you were unsure. 

Like a stubborn child, you shook your head, arms pushing against the table to get up from your seat. Alastor was behind you in seconds, dissolving and rematerializing through shadows faster than you could blink.

"Nuh uh, dearest. We don't waste good food in this Hotel. What would the papers say if they find out we throw away such scarce resource?" He pressed his body against the back of your chair, securing you back at the table with an easy push.

He leaned over your shoulder, long arms reached around you. You stared as his clawed hands planted themselves on the table in front of you, caging you in, framing that horrid plate.

You felt his breath by your ear, that horribly familiar static prickled your skin, before you heard him speak. "You know, I'm starting to think you like how your friends taste."

You swallowed against your dry throat, eyes wide. Every breath you took was shallow as you tried to shake your head only to be met with a mocking laugh.

"No? Come now, why lie, my dear? It's only us here." Alastor leaned closer over you. The heat of his body inescapable. "This is the third friend this month. Even a child would have learned by now." 

"I'm all you need, darling. Everyone else is just cattle." His voice distorted as he spoke, a threat, a promise, you knew from experience that he'd deliver on.

Faintly you could feel the weight of metal around your neck. It wasn't physically there, no. After all, it's been a while since you've given him a reason to summon that chain. But it never really ever felt absent, specially at times like this.

You sighed in resignation, and braced yourself for that familiar horrible taste. Your hands clenched into fists on your lap—a sight that delighted the demon behind you.

"You win." You said softly. Numbly, you parted your lips, mind wandering away as you let Alastor slide the fork into your slack mouth. You ignored what it was you were chewing, letting your body function through the motions as you fought to keep your thoughts else were. 

You felt a large hand pat your head, bringing you back to the present in time to hear Alastor's praise. "What a good pet you make, my dear."

The plate before you was empty now, Alastor's looming figure having retreated away from your shaking one, back in his seat in front of you.

The horrible rotten taste still lingered in your mouth, but you didn't bother to ask for something to wash it away. You simply stood up, ready to run to your room and force yourself to throw up—again.

"Hm? Running from me now, are we?" Alastor's brows raised as he watched you. "Not that you can, I own you, after all." 

You suspected his words were less of a reminder for you, and more on just him loving to say them.

"And why should I stay?" Your words seemed argumentative, but your tone and the hunch of your shoulders were anything but. "I've already finished my punishment."

"I would say it was more of a treat, really. You have no idea how much I wanted to eat those." He laughed, not really minding that you just stared back blankly at him.

"Besides, you've yet to pay me back for leaving me waiting at Rosie's. So come, sit." An invitation to most, an order to you.

So sat you did. You ignored the smudges of blood on the plate still in front of you. You ignored the bitter taste the that lingered in your mouth. You ignored the growing numbness spreading from your chest to the rest of your limbs.

You ignored yourself.

Mindlessly, you nodded along to whatever gossip Alastor had, almost immediately, began sharing with you.

Alastor's hold on you had tightened in the past few months. Not only had he pulled you away from the people at the hotel—you were apparently terribly ill, contagious, but fine under his care—but he had also confiscated your phone and TV.

The window in your room was also simply magicked away. He didn't want you getting any funny ideas of leaving him again, after all.

At first you were fine with it. You had a few books in your room, anyway. But after the first two weeks, you've already finished most of them.

Still, they kept you entertained for a little longer after that; you didn't really mind rereading them—for the fourth time, you think.

But then you had that fight with Alastor. You had asked for your phone back, desperate to know what was going on outside your room. Desperate to listen to your music. Desperate to hear another voice aside from your own.

Alastor merely waved off your concern. He let you keep his radio after all. You could simply listen to him. He talked about current events, and played music, and broadcasted all sorts of screams voices. You didn't need anything else.

He didn't quite take it nicely when you had spat that it wasn't enough.

In the fray that followed, your books were lost. Torn to shreds in seconds.

But no matter, you had thought. You still had some paper, a pencil, some paint. While you weren't the best artist around, you doodled the hours away, anyway. Coloring, sketching, filling out every plain, empty gap on the papers you had.

You were quickly running out of material, though. You'd repeatedly ask Alastor to get you more paper, another pencil, even an eraser, every time he came by. But all he kept saying was that he forgot to fetch some, and that he will surely do so next time.

You were always disappointed, but knew better than to start another fight. You didn't want to risk destroying what little paint you had left, after all.

You had began to doodle on your walls. Counting the little details on the wallpaper, even each and crack along your way. You had drawn everything you ever knew existed; from characters you used to liked when you were alive to a freaking sock on the floor. 

The friends he made you eat.

Hastily covered with a drawing of a deer.

By his next visit, Alastor was appalled by the state of your room. He didn't quite appreciate your vandalism. He promptly snapped his fingers and the walls were replaced. Your drawings gone, the wallpaper gone, even the cracks were gone. It was now just a smooth red surface. 

He had taken away the paint, not that there was much left at that point. You thought it was fair anyway, considering you did draw on the walls like an irresponsible child.

You tried cleaning too, just to keep your mind going, your body moving. But no, no, no. Alastor couldn't have his dear friend, and a valued hotel guest, doing such menial labor. 

He easily cleaned the room for you, not a speck of dust left. Barely any furniture left too—he had found them tacky, apparently.

At that point all you had to look forward to were Alastor's visits. Constant, they were. He insisted he brought you your food personally, of course.

You had been suspicious about what he was feeding you, even once outright questioning what you were eating.

He had laughed. "Unless you made any new friends from this room, I can assure you, you aren't eating any sinners, my dear."

You weren't sure how much his assurance was worth, but food was one of the only two things you actually had here. You didn't feel like giving that up, too.

You hated him. Hated him for keeping you here. Hated him for ignoring all your pleas to be let out.

You hated him, but still found yourself jumping from your bed as soon as you heard the door handle rattle. 

You hated him, but him coming to visit meant you had something to do.

The radio by your bed, and Alastor's frequent visits were all you had left.

The isolation was driving you insane, broken only whenever Alastor wanted to.

Alastor was driving you insane, but without him you were completely isolated.

Your sanity felt like a candle burning at both ends, melting far too fast for you to keep it together. You didn't know anymore which torture you preferred. Alastor's presence or absence?

At least, that was a few weeks back.

Because it wasn't like you needed to choose now.

Your food had been appearing on your side table every meal time, instead of coming in carried by the familiar demon.

The radio beside you had been silent for a long while now. Not one terrified scream, not one jazzy tune, not even empty static. 

And of course, Alastor himself hadn't come in to see you in weeks.

You think it's been weeks, at least. He took the clock with him last time he cleaned.

No, there was no need to pick your poison anymore. Alastor had chosen for you.

At first, you had been bitter. How dare he ignore you—or did he forget about you? God, no, he wouldn't. Right? —how dare he not even check in to see if you were even still alive.

How dare he not visit.

And then, you were worried. It was one thing for him not to pop in on you, another thing entirely to miss his shows. He'd never miss an opportunity to broadcast fear over Pride Ring, but your radio had been quiet this whole time. What was keeping him, then? Was he hurt? Was he okay?

Then, and you think it was the worst of them all, you started to miss him. From the moment you woke from restless slumber, your eyes fixated on the door handle, begging it to turn. Your chest ached, praying to hear his silly staticy voice again, even if it was just senseless gossip.

You felt like screaming, begging, pounding on the door for him to visit you. But you knew he wouldn't like that. No, if the others in the hotel found out, Alastor would likely never visit you ever again. 

So you kept to your bed. Your days spent glaring down at the door in desperation, switching only to the radio to do the same, for hours on end. Every little shift you made, the sheets moving under you, felt so deafeningly loud in the empty room.

It was almost maddening.

"My dear, I have a task for you." Alastor's cheery voice spoke up by your ear.

Your eyes snapped open, greeted by the sight of the demon leaning over your head.

"Nothing too difficult, just a little grocery shopping." He continued on as if he hadn't left you to rot.

You didn't care, nor did you register what his words meant. No, the first thing your body jumped to, your mind went to, was that Alastor was here.

"Al!" The glee in your voice unrestricted as you pushed your sheets away and threw your arms around him. The relief, the absolute refreshment, of feeling another warm body against you again was almost heavenly.

A soft hand patted at your shoulder as he awkwardly stayed there. "Well, good morning to you too, sweetheart." He laughed.

You sat up, eyes wide as you leaned away and took him in. Unmistakably, a very welcomed sight.

He told you about the chore he needed done, truly very simple. Just a literal grocery list. But you held onto every word, every charming staticy syllable falling from his lips as if he was preaching your religion. 

You were determined to memorize it all, not just to complete the task but to simply engrave his voice in your head.

You were so thankful to finally hear something other than your creaky bed. To finally be having a conversation again. To feel human.

It hadn't even click for you that you will finally be heading out.

You were quick in getting the task done, determined to get back to Alastor as fast as you could.

You hadn't notice how your skin thawed in the outside heat compared to the icy room you've been locked in. You hadn't paid mind to everyone's greetings around you. You didn't care for all the flashing lights, and tasty smells, and loud music and laughter and screams around you as finished you little assignment.

You wanted to get things done so you could be by the familiar demon again. His presence almost felt like a drug you've been deprived off for so long, that it physically irked you to be away.

And that's how it was from then on.

You were given a new room at the hotel. Alastor had replaced all the books he destroyed because he just felt so guilty. He had also finally remembered to buy you all those papers and art supplies you asked him to get you. And he had even returned your phone and television to you.

Not that you cared for any of those. You've spent most of your time in Alastor's room anyway, unable to stand a second without hearing his voice. 

You'd cling onto every word he'd say, attentive, obsessed.

Your eye would twitch every time he'd mention someone, anyone. Part of you irritated that he had spent time with someone else other than you. Even more so that he cared enough to remember their name. To say their name.

Soon you not only clung onto his words, but onto him as well. Unable to stand that others spent time with him when you could not. You'd miss meals, miss sleep, drop whatever you were doing to follow him wherever he went. To stay by Alastor's side. 

When he forbade you from doing so, you would follow in secret, or have your own little ways to spy on him. To know what he was doing.

The few times you were away from your owner's side, you could be found standing over a dead sinner. Maybe someone who touched him, maybe someone he mentioned, maybe someone who simply glanced at him for far too long for your liking. Regardless, they were all equally deserving of death in your eyes. How dare they.

Alastor knew of these, of course. And while he was quickly growing suffocated by your constant overbearing presence, he hadn't really bothered to say much.

He still preferred this—this grotesque reflection of his own affections for you—over your defiant little attitude before.

His last straw, however, was now. When you stood over yet another sinner. The light gone from their eyes as you still, repeatedly, shot at their corpse.

The green chain appeared in his clenched fist for the first time in a long while. The collar snapped shut around your neck, but you hadn't even noticed until he gave it a harsh yank.

You were pulled to the side, stumbling over the body by your feet. You looked up, confused, to see Alastor snarling down at you.

"I needed him alive, dear." He said, his annoyance barely kept under control.

"He touched you." You merely replied, as if it was the worst offense, worst sin, in Hell.

"Because we were making a deal, you stupid pest!" Alastor hissed through his teeth, but you merely blinked at him as if you didn't see his point still.

You stood up straighter, keeping your eyes on him. Always on him.

He was so beautiful, so perfect. Everything you needed.

Why had you ever wanted to find anyone more?

"But he still held your hand."

"I'll touch who I want to touch. Do not forget who holds the leash here." His eyes narrowed, chain pulling taught between you.

You smiled at him, loving the way his voice sounded when he was getting angry. It rarely happened now considering how good you were for him, but oh, did it sound like music to you.

Your hands lifted to softly run your hands through the chain by your neck. "You do, of course. I don't question that."

"I need you, Al." You added, soft, almost loving expression on your face as your adored his furious red eyes. "And while I can't force you to stay with me, alone. I can simply just get rid of everyone else. I can be your only one, if I'm the only one left."

"So you've finally flew off the handle, dearest?" His question seemed genuine, not at all in jest.

But you laughed anyway, as if it was the funniest thing ever. "And what if I have?" You grinned at him. "What will you do? Run from me?"

Your fingers gripped the chain suddenly, yanking yourself forward, closer to him. You feel his pull against the chain as well, not to bring you close but simply to keep hold of it. To keep hold of his control over you.

Your eyes lowered, admiring him from up close now. The flicker of uncertainty in his eyes was new, and you couldn't wait to see more new things from him now that you're so devastatingly devoted to him.

"You own me, remember? I'm here forever."

[dreamwatch]

Looking California, Feeling Indiana

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest

Day #28 - Prompt: Back To Indiana | Word Count: 999 | Rating: T | CW: chronic illness | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: pre-Steddie, broken dreams, band break up

(I’m laptop-less tonight so hoping typos etc aren’t too bad - I’ll fix them tomorrow 😆)

The logistics of getting home are left to Jeff. They have a van that might get them from California to Indiana, a station wagon that should get them there, but six years worth of possessions and equipment into a van and station wagon doesn’t go. They sell a load of their shit before heading home. It’s not like they need most of it anyway.

It’s a sombre journey, so different to the one they made to Los Angeles six years ago, so full of hope and excitement, one step closer to their dream. They could have stayed and just built lives there, grounded ones, sensible jobs, sensible hours, sensible lives. But Eddie needed to go back, even if it was just for a few months; he’s twenty seven in a few weeks and he feels like a seventy year old. New aches over old hurts, mystery illnesses slowing him down.

(He knows they’re Upside Down related, knows no one can do anything about them, and knows they’re getting worse. He hates knowing things.)

The Welcome To Hawkins sign looks new; Wayne said it still gets vandalised from time to time, a new one in its place the next morning, reckons they’re buying them in bulk.

Jeff drops Eddie off first because Wayne’s waiting around to see him and get his shit inside before he has to get to work. He’s sixty five now. He shouldn’t be working in that fucking plant anymore. How many times did Eddie say one day Wayne, you’ll see. Useless fucking liar.

They hug, they eat, Wayne looks him over with a sigh; he’s too thin, too pale, leaning on that cane a little too heavily. Eddie knows it comes from love but it’s a lot.

Wayne grabs his keys and his lunch box. “Steve called, by the way. Numbers on the fridge.” There’s a kiss to the top of his head. “It’s good to have you home, Bub.”

Bub. Wayne hasn’t called him that in years, and Eddie smiles to himself, surprised at how much he missed it.

He calls Steve, yeah journey was okay, no roads were fine, yeah all settled in. Steve tells him he’s coming to get him, they’re going for dinner, no arguments and he finds he has in fact no intention of arguing.

Steve looks good. He seems broader, hair is longer which thrills Eddie, and the wire rimmed glasses are like a glacé cherry on the cake that is Steve Harrington.

He gets a whistle stop tour of his friend’s lives, Steve so proud of all their achievements. Tells him Hawkins is different now, friendlier, more welcoming. Happier.

They pick at fries, Steve pushing his pickles to the side of the plate for Eddie. Eddie does his best to hide his smile.

“How are you? You look…”

“‘Tired and too thin’ according to my dear, beloved uncle.”

“I was going to say ‘good’, actually, asshole.”

He grabs a fry from Steve’s plate, drags it through Steve’s milkshake. “Don’t lie to me, Steven.”

“Wayne told me, about your health, the band splitting up. I’m really sorry, man. That fucking blows.”

“Thanks,” he says with a wan smile. “It does indeed blow.”

“You know you probably just need some rest. Give it six months, and you’ll all be back in LA, tearing the place up. You were so close, man.”

He snorts, a humourless laugh. “Yeah, not so much actually.”

Steve leans back in the booth, arm hooked over the back

“Bullshit. You had label guys there just a couple of months ago, and it’s slow, remember you said yourself, it takes time, you don’t just get signed overnight.”

“Steve,” and he says it gently, because Steve means well, and he’s supported them, financially at times, when he was too embarrassed to call Wayne. Steve would send a check or wire him money. And even thinking about that makes this so much harder. 

“There was no label guy. There’s never been a label guy. Or girl, for that matter.”

Steve frowns at him, confused. “I don’t understand.”

And this is it, isn’t it? This is the moment he has to release it into the world.

“I’m going to tell you something nobody else knows. Not even Wayne.”

Steve leans forward, arms crossed on the table. “I’m good at keeping secrets.”

“We failed, Steve. We failed. The last gig we played was about nine months ago, some frat house party Gareth found for us. It was shit. Because we were shit.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true, Steve. We didn’t have a hope in fucking hell. Do you know how many bands there are in LA? How few of those ever get a sniff of a record deal.” He shrugs, casual. The sting from the hurt doesn’t burn quite as much as it used to. “We just weren’t good enough, that’s all.”

Eddie watches as the cogs in Steve’s head turn, trying to lock into place. “But your health…”

“Is not great. I didn’t lie about that. But, I leant into it. It’s easier to blame a bum leg and chest infections than admit you’ll never achieve your dream because you’re not talented enough and you’re fucking delusional.”

“You are talented,”

“We’re not. Or, not enough, anyway.”

“What are you gonna do? What are they gonna do?” 

“Wayne’s trying to find me work at the plant. Jeff is talking about community college. Matt will probably go work for his dad. Gareth’s probably going to go to Indy, find a band there. Good luck to him.”

Steve drives him home, actual home now, not that dirty little apartment in LA, but a place where he’ll always be wanted. Will always be good enough. 

They pull up outside the trailer, and Steve reaches over, grabbing Eddie’s hand. It’s clumsy and awkward, but the intent is clear. Trying to pick things up where they left them.

“It’s good to have you home, man.”

“It’s good to be home.”

He’s surprised to find he means it.

[starchaserwrites]

@jegulus-microfic / february 15: poison / word count: 787

When Regulus agreed to babysit Venus (Sirius and Remus' puppy), he thought the seven days they would be out of town would go smoothly. Thinking that was his first mistake.

The thing is, Venus is very quiet most of the time... except in winter when there are thunderstorms. It's winter, and what are the odds of that happening three nights in a row? One hundred percent, apparently. To say that Regulus' apartment was ruined is an understatement. 

His second mistake was thinking he could leave Venus alone for more than an hour to go shopping. Regulus takes full responsibility for this one, as he must have seen the noise complaints from his neighbours coming when he had the idea of leaving the husky with apparent separation anxiety alone.

Completely exhausted from lack of sleep and complaints, Regulus thought he could take some time out to distract himself by watching a movie with the puppy, which of course was Hachiko. They both settled down on the couch in the living room with a large carrot for Venus and a chocolate bar for him, and Regulus clicked play on the film. Regulus considers the eight and a half minutes he was awake an achievement. Third mistake.

One hour and fifty-two minutes later, when something warm licking his hand wakes him up, panic overcomes the youngest Black. Venus seems more energetic than ever, the carrot is intact except for a few bites, and there is no trace of what was left of his chocolate bar.

Missing chocolate + Venus = POISON

It's the equation that appears in neon letters all over his brain. 

Regulus can already imagine the thousand and one ways his brother and Remus will kill him for harming their baby, so for a long minute he sits, paralysed, eyes closed, as Venus chews on the sleeve of his hoodie.

When his phone vibrates, indicating a new message, that's all he needs to react, it's a message from Sirius asking how the little furball is, and just as Regulus is about to call and tell him everything in tears, a new message pops up, causing a light bulb to go on in his head.

J. Potter: Dinner tonight?

And Regulus has never been happier that James never gives up on him, so he decides to call him.

"I wasn't expecting you to call and finally agree to a date with me, but I suppose the solemnity of the occasion deserves it, what time shall I pick you up?" is the first thing he says.

"I need help, something bad happened," the younger man says, running his hand through his now tousled hair several times. There is a noise at the other end of the line, probably caused by a sudden movement.

"Where are you?

"I'm in my flat, but James, I need your help as a professional," Regulus says hurriedly. His brother's best friend has been a vet for about three years, so he should know what to do. 

"But you don't have - oh, is it Venus?"

A few minutes after Regulus chokingly confirms "yes" and explains the situation, James arrives at his flat. As he runs some routine tests on the husky, Regulus can't help but think once again how handsome the vet looks today and how grateful he is to have him in his life.

"Are you sure she ate it? She's not showing any symptoms of chocolate ingestion, her temperature is normal, as is her heart rate, and she's not puking. Have you checked the flat?" the doe-eyed man asks as he finishes his inspection. 

The lack of response is enough for James to start scanning every corner of the living room, and when he pulls the chocolate bar of discord from behind a potted plant, Regulus swears he could kiss him, but the feeling that he's been a complete idiot the whole week he's been with Venus is greater. So when the tears of relief and frustration start to fall, he can't help but feel pathetic. 

"Hey, it's all right, okay?" the older one says, reaching over and grabbing him by the shoulders, "I know taking care of Venus can be draining, I had my fair share of her a while back too. You must be tired, let me take care of you, okay?"

And that's how they end up sitting close together on the couch (only because Venus takes up most of it, that's the only reason, really), wrapped up in a blanket and a cup of chamomile tea, watching an episode of Dr. House that Regulus has already seen about 6 times, and knowing that in a few moments, and for the first time, he'll be the one asking James out on a date.

[junicult]

contains ; established relationship. sfw & fluff. one brief suggestive part. pretty much just a blurb. another excuse for me to talk about harvey (bc he’s the only one plaguing my mind) (like usual). more under the cut.

harvey’s favorite days are your anniversary.

he’s the kind of man that tallies up every single anniversary in his head, from your first kiss, all the way to your wedding day. he remembers the ones that seem insignificant, the ones he’d only silently celebrate because they’re so specific you wouldn’t even remember them.

he remembers things like the day he realized he was in love with you. and when it reaches one year since, he’s a little extra smitten. he remembers the day you slept together for the first time, it’s a sweet memory that you both continue to celebrate. he remembers when you both said i love you, one of his favorite anniversaries to wake up to, reminding him of how nervous he was years ago and how easily it is to tell you now.

he likes to reminisce on your milestones, each day there’s a new one he wakes up a little happier, and impossibly more affectionate.

on your first kiss anniversary, still only boyfriend and girlfriend, he doesn’t mention it—but he’s thinking about it all day. he wakes up, you’re awake by his side but cranky from the alarm sounding your room. he looks at you, and the scowl on your face that only makes him smile. his heart still flutters—and all he can think about is that one year ago you were only just a crush.

“good morning, beautiful.” he says sweetly, and you chuckle next to him, rubbing your eye. he leans in for a kiss like he always does, but it feels so different. he’s kissed you more times then he can count at this point, yet one year ago he’d start sweating at the thought of just one.

it’s not until the evening, several kisses throughout the day later, when you’re sitting at home. limbs are sore from a hard day, your eyes low and tired, you lean against your hand and look at him from the kitchen table. “y’know, this might sound crazy; but we shared our first kiss one year ago today.”

he stiffens, eyes widening only slightly. he’s been kissing you all day like he did the first time, only reminding himself of it by each—having no clue you were thinking the same. he smiles, and when he turns around he just nods, “i remember.”

the anniversary of the first time you slept together remains the same, except this time, he knows you remember. he wasn’t able to spend the night before, because you spent all the way up until midnight working as hard as you could to clear out a chunk of the day.

“hey, handsome.” you giggle, walking into the clinic, and he visibly relaxes at the sight of you. you lean over the counter, him following suit to plant a soft, but passionate kiss against your lips that last a little longer then the usual when you come in. one of those kisses that linger even after your lips disconnect.

“i should be finished at four, i’ll head over as soon as i can.” he says, his head tilted to the side a little, trying his best to ignore the way your fingers play with the end of his tie.

and he follows through with his word, tiding himself up at home before he makes his way over and cooks you a nice dinner. he’s a gentleman, showing you nothing but love when he cups your cheek to pull you in. even when you drag him to your room, celebrating the very same thing that happened one year prior.

when you asked him to be your boyfriend still remains one of his favorites—if he had to rank them. it’s one of the anniversaries that started off with him being oblivious, and you sweating bullets.

you were the one who held the bouquet, face hot and palms sweaty while you agonizingly waited for an answer. it’s one of those days that he could hear you talk about forever, how nervous you were and how you were feeling.

that morning he needed to wake up by your side, so he didn’t have to waste a single second before kissing you, mumbling a near incoherent good morning because he just doesn’t want to pull away. it’s been many years since he’s felt this light, and to be honest—he’s never felt it this much.

it’s a day where he’s constantly being asked, “what’s got you so happy?” by anyone near. he stands a little straighter, he’s so much sweeter, smiling as his cheeks continue to ache. it’s an anniversary he celebrates even after you’re married, because it was the first official day he became yours for the rest of your lives.

when he said i love you for the first time—it was weeks, nearly months after he had the revelation on his own. and those weeks he spent everyday with it on the tip of his tongue, but he just couldn’t do it. he couldn’t stand the thought of his feelings being unreciprocated.

when he did realize he loved you was his own special day, one of the ones he doesn’t share but he silently celebrates when he’s with you. it was an anniversary he felt shy to bring up with you—yet gushed when you remembered it as well.

by now, you know the way his mind works. you know he remembers the smallest things, things that seem insignificant to a third party, yet mean everything to the both of you. so when you whisper a loving, full, “i love you,” before you step out for work that morning, he knows you’re saying it exactly how you did the first time.

he doesn’t waste any time saying it back. tacking it as a sappy, “i love you more,” to watch your eyelids squint and your lips press together in faux annoyance. and thus he grins back—because he means it—but it only starts the one-upping game that takes place for the entirety of the day.

and now, his real favorite. a day he had marked on the calendar, a day he’s longed since he first knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you—your wedding anniversary.

it’s easily the most important day. well, aside from your actual wedding. but this day was different, because you are his wife, and you have been his wife for an entire year.

and even years later, when you approach two, five, ten. there’s so many more ahead of you, yet each and every single one makes harvey feel exactly how he did the minute he was standing at the alter, standing with tears in his eyes at just the mere idea of seeing you walk down the isle.

and he celebrates it like it’s still the most important day of his life.

[shrimp-propaganda]

i may have become slightly obsessed with shrimp🦐 - the way they just pitter patter their lil legs and float around the tank is mesmerising - any advice for someone just dipping their toe in the aquarium hobby?

"may have become slightly obsessed with shrimp" hey me too

i love Aquarium Hobby but it sucks how steep the learning curve is. here are some things i wish i knew when i was depressed/homesick/heartbroken/in college/stressed out of my mind and couldn't keep my fish alive:

don't listen to anyone in a big box store. go to a local aquarium shop. or online forums.

bigger tank is better. a larger volume of water is easier to keep parameters stable in #chemistry

don't change your filter media. it's a lie. every time you change it you are restarting your cycle

go get one of those giant cut to size aquarium media foam block things. cut a piece out and stick it in your filter. now you have an instant cycle if you ever have to set up a new tank in a hurry

old credit cards are the world's best algae scrapers

stable water parameters are more important than textbook perfect ones (this is for like, pH and hardness. your ammonia readings should still be 0)

low tech plants like mosses, java ferns, anubias, etc will make your life easier and your fish happier

seachem prime is hands down the best water conditioner on the market

test strips are fine. they aren't as fine tuned as a liquid tests but if your tank is cycled and stable they're enough to alert you when something goes wrong

when you put someone else in charge of your fish when you go on vacation, put their food in a pill box. now they don't have to guess how much a "small pinch" is

do not buy a fish that cannot fit in your tank fully grown. the voice in your head saying "oh i'll upgrade before my beloved goldfish gets too big" is the devil talking

i hope this is helpful and i hope your aquarium journey goes...swimmingly. i also hope you don't unfollow me because of that joke

[multifandomfix]

Hearth & Home — Narcissa Malfoy

Summary: You find yourself alone this Christmas, but so does Narcissa and she’s not about to let that stand.

Word Count: 486

Warnings: Some angst, but a happy ending

Darkness had fallen as you sat on a bench in Diagon Alley, lost in thought as a quiet melancholy settled within you as you contemplated spending the holiday season alone. The lamplight was your only friend, it seemed, saving you from being swallowed up in total darkness. The festive decorations all around seemed to mock your solitude. Just as despair began to take root, a shop door creaked open, revealing Narcissa Malfoy.

"Narcissa, what brings you here?" you asked, surprised to see anyone still out at this hour. Though, honestly, you weren’t even a hundred percent sure how much time you’d passed out here yourself.

She offered a soft smile that didn’t quite reach her sad eyes. “Passing the time, I suppose. With Draco grown and Lucius…” Narcissa trailed off, recalling the bitter divorce earlier that year. You’d read about it in the Daily Prophet, but didn’t mention it.

“No one should be alone for the holidays,” you said instead, the sentiment a true enough one in your heart. “I find myself in a similar situation. Perhaps we could spend Christmas together?"

Grateful for the unexpected company, Narcissa accepted your kind offer, then making one of her own. “You’re welcome to come to my home and stay, at least through the holidays.” It was your turn to smile now and you let Narcissa lead you to her home, far more modest than Malfoy Manor, no doubt, but tastefully decorated and it seemed to suit her.

As you both settled in by the crackling fire, Narcissa spoke gently, sharing stories from happier Christmases past and you did the same, helping the both of you to ease that loneliness that had threatened to consume you. The warmth of her presence was a Christmas blessing if there ever was one.

As the evening unfolded, Narcissa gave you a full tour of her home, garland and ornaments giving the place a festive feel. You were finally starting to feel like you should at the holidays; grateful, cheerful and dare you say loved?

The tour concluded back at the hearth. Above the mantel hung a sprig of mistletoe that hadn’t escaped your notice. Narcissa followed your eyes, landing on the plant she’d forgotten that she put up. She was hardly expecting the tradition to arise this year. But, as she took a moment to think about it, her gaze fell back to you. A tender smile played on her lips, and in that moment, she decided that, though it may have been unplanned, the tradition could certainly continue.

Without a word, Narcissa closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a gentle, lingering kiss. You met her kiss eagerly, returning it, as you pulled her closer. The crackling of the fire and the soft glow of the fairy lights that surrounded you seemed to dance in celebration of your newfound connection, turning a lonely holiday into a memory to cherish.

Forever Tag: @baubeautyandthegeek, @ghostsunderstoodmysoul, @immyowndefender, @valencethefriendlychangeling, @crimsonwidow666, @rebelbossheart, @thedailyspiritualist, @orangeisnttheonlyfruit, @woman-simp, @aperol-with-izzy, @leonoralessoem, @ellepossum69, @lakita-fisher, @nclgsticore, @ayanthegreat28, @analuw, @luvlesavyy, @malfoyfeed, @aliciabrower, @bitchr-mkay, @sparrowspixie

Narcissa Malfoy: @iticaboopsyou, @brienneseveruscalaway, @riveranddoctorsong123, @whither-the-wind-goes, @bluenystic, @reminiscent-of-sentiment, @unexpected-character, @ppgrayson, @becomingthedreamversionofme, @bloodinthedarksworld, @gothtrash6969, @jona-lea, @music-bird, @fairyfaefiction, @chaotic-mushroomz, @iciclesandsnow, @thenazwife, @animeloverfreak310, @m-rae23, @asocialrandom, @404-its-alr, @beyondgaby, @scarlettmal, @ayyy-lety, @wynt3rrr, @geekyandgay98, @pink-sunrise-56, @sweetyprincesschaos, @mindfullofnothingbutyou, @witchthewriter, @anarrowtotheknee, @thekirbishow, @lannister-apologist

[bluemoondust]

In regards to your faking death post- what if their darling immediately grieved instead of feeling relief? Like- what if they faked their death and then just watched their darling completely break down and shut down without them and genuinely grieve their death?

tw: death (fake death), mention of suicide, mention of God

I feel like Dazai's a little more sympathetic in this scenario. He watches as you sob over 'his corpse' and has a rush of bliss run through his body. Like, true and genuine happiness. He's so giddy too. Oh? You miss him? You wish for him to come back to you? Dazai watches for a bit before walking over to you, bringing you in his arms. The man acts like you didn't just see him die as he coos at you, wiping away your tears.

Don't get me wrong, he was a little taken aback by your tears at first, but all the small signs you've shown makes sense. He had expected some tears, but a full breakdown? Hm. Well, that doesn't matter now. He carefully reads your expression as he wipes your face. Yeah, you're being genuine...and that makes him even happier.

It would actually be worse if he made the death look like a suicide— that's like, a little more salt on your wounds. Making you believe you weren't enough to keep him in this world. It's fine though, Dazai is here to stay and he'll never let you go.

Fyodor on the other hand... I don't know why but my gut tells me he'd like to watch for a while. He wants to see if you'd spout of compromises to God (or whoever you believe in) in order to bring him back to you. What else will you say that you wouldn't say to his face? He listens very carefully to ever word, sentence, plea you utter under tear soaked sobs. He smiles at the lovely sight. You look so heavenly with those tears streaming down your face.

He'll walk up to you like he had just come back from somewhere. Fyodor is so nonchalant as he greets you. "Good evening, my sweet. What's with the tears? Gone?" He chuckles, petting your head like what you just said was silly. "You must have missed me too much. You've planted ideas into your head, dear. You should know that I'll never truly be gone."