#ej writes

[theysherobinbuckley]

a little something I started but probably won't ever finish - alternate first meeting steddie! post s3, pre s4

(context: in an effort to cheer up his perpetually grumpy new neighbor, Eddie broke out his old skateboard and immediately ate shit for it. Cue Red calling none other than Steve Harrington to solve the problem...)

Red was barely in the door when Harringron turned on him, jaw clenched and fingers twitching. Having those dark eyes focused so entirely on him nearly made Eddie dizzy.

His lips were moving and- oh shit. Eddie was totally supposed to be listening.

"Uh, what?"

"What are you doing hanging around Max?"

Eddie frowned. "We're neighbors?"

"So?"

"So I'm being… neighborly? Is that illegal?"

"Neighborly is getting someone's mail while they're out of town. Not a super senior hanging around with a girl who's not even in high school yet."

"You better be fucking careful what you're accusing me of, Harrington, because to be honest, you don't look any better. Don't think I haven't heard your beemer pull up at all hours of the night. What the fuck is that about, huh? King Steve likes 'em young?"

Eddie's back hit the trailer before the last word even left his mouth. All the breath rushed out of him at once as Harrington pinned him with one arm across his shoulders.

"Don’t fucking say that," he seethed. "She's like my sister. I'm not- I wouldn't hurt her."

Eddie reached up to pat Harrington's arm placatingly, sending him as sweet a smile as he could muster.

"Hey, I believe you, man. I'm a little lost, sure, but I believe you." He sent a look to the trailer to his right. "Now can you let me down before Muriel sends Axel out to break your arm?"

Harrington followed his gaze and, upon seeing Muriel frowning from behind her curtains, dropped Eddie faster than if he'd told him he had the plague.

"We're in my kingdom now, Harrington," he said, grinning and waving in Muriel's direction. "These are my people. We take care of each other here. And Red's one of us, whether you like it or not."

Steve frowned, opened his mouth to respond, maybe even protest, but Eddie cut him off.

"I was just trying to make the kid smile, okay? So I got out my old skateboard, did a few tricks, busted my shit." He held up the ice pack he'd stolen from Red's fridge. "She called you 'cause she said you'd know what to do."

Harrington was quiet. Noticeably, he did not apologize for jostling Eddie's extremely sore wrist, but whatever.

"Did she?"

"Yeah, man, I tried to talk her out of it, but she seemed pretty confident you'd pick up. And here you are, so…"

"No, I mean- did she have fun?"

Eddie shrugged. "I mean, she didn't look as miserable as usual. Laughed a couple times when I fucked up a dismount. What's up with that, by the way? The constant dispair?"

Harrington's whole body tensed, and Eddie was almost scared he was gearing up to punch him just for asking.

"You remember Billy Hargrove?" he replied, his voice tight.

Eddie couldn't help but sneer at the mention of that piece of shit. Wayne had always taught him not to speak ill of the dead, but that didn't mean he couldn't think some choice things about him. Like the fact that he was pretty sure the guy was rotting in hell for all the things he'd said to Jeff in the school halls.

"Unfortunately. What about him?"

"He was Max's older brother. Step-brother."

"That's..."

"Fucked?" Harrington supplied. Eddie nodded. "Yeah. So I just- I need to make sure another Hargrove doesn't come around. Sorry I got all... you know. I've been told I can be kind of intense."

"No shit," Eddie laughed. "No hard feelings, I guess. Since it's in Red's best interest."

"No hard feelings," Harrington echoed. "Thanks for looking out for her."

Then, something Eddie had never even dreamed of: Harrington stuck his hand out, clearly expecting a handshake.

Huh.

It was over in a second, but Eddie's hand burned where Steve's had been.

"No problem. I'm kind of the park babysitter," Eddie replied. "Part of the job description."

Harrington lit up at that.

"I babysit too! Max and a few of her friends. 'S why I'm always around. I'm usually playing chauffeur for one of the other gremlins."

"That makes more sense than you having a torrid love affair with Susan."

"Yeah, she's not really my type," Harrington said with a smirk.

Eddie watched in shock as Harrington's eyes slowly, deliberately dipped up and down his form.

Talk about fucking whiplash. Eddie could still feel Harrington's strong arm against his chest, the brush of Harrington's nose against his own, the heat of Harrington's breath on his face. And now the king was checking him out?

"I see. Not into MILFs?"

Eddie was in the middle of making plans to staple his big stupid mouth shut when Harrington laughed.

"I'm more into brunettes."

And boy, didn't that seem pointed.

[someforeignband]

🪱Wiggly Worm Wednesday!🪱

having thoughts about eddie and steve going to visit steve’s grandmother! (im spending the week with my nanna and am having thoughts)

It starts with this nebulous idea that Steve’s parents didn’t want to take care of Francesca’s mother after her husband died, so they moved Steve’s maternal grandmother to a 65+ community in Sun City, Arizona. Just like their son, they’d much rather ship off Franny’s mother instead of dealing with her needs. So, they leave sweet Cecilia in a massive 2,900 square foot condo in the Arizona desert, all by herself.

One afternoon in march, Steve gets a call from his Nonna. She explains she has had some plumbing issues and neither Franny, nor Richard is returning her calls. She complains that there’s palm fronds in her yard, and with the state of her back, she just can’t fix all of these things on her own.

“How do you feel about a trip to Arizona?” Steve would ask Eddie, after a two-and-a-half hour long conversation with his grandmother.

Thusly, a PanAm flight to Phoenix was booked. It was Eddie’s first time on a plane. Despite his nerves prior to getting on the flight, he has a marvelous time. Eddie discovers that he loves turbulence and puts his hands up and giggles the whole time.

Steve, to Eddie’s dismay, is the exact opposite. He squeezes the armrest the entire 3.5 hour flight. He can’t stand how relaxed Eddie is, not understanding how someone like Eddie could just be so calm.

Once they land, Steve tries to brief Eddie on his Nonna’s disposition. “She’s sort of a firecracker, Eddie. Very particular about pretty much everything. I’m sorry if she’s mean to you.”

Eddie tells him not to worry about it, assures him they’ll get through the weekend.

To Steve’s delight (and Eddie’s utter surprise), Nonna takes to Eddie like a fish to water. He can talk about the Bible with her. Wayne’s been pretty devout his whole life, so when Eddie makes a comment about her dish towel with Philippians 4:6-7 printed on it, Steve knows Eddie’s going to practically be family.

Cece is ecstatic to be able to show the boy pictures of Italia and tell him stories about her upbringing. She shows him pictures of Franny, pictures of her late husband, and her collection of photos of Steve’s baptism. It keeps Cece distracted, while Steve gets to work fixing her kitchen plumbing.

Steve can’t help but grin to himself like a madman as he tinkers with her pipes, listening to his Nonna and his boyfriend volley back and forth. Sharp as whips, the both of them, and god it was nice to watch Eddie get on with someone who was blood to him.

Steve didn’t have much family that bothered to be in his life.

It was nice.

And best of all— at least for Nonna— Eddie can eat her food. Eddie can seriously put it away. Steve stops after one helping of Parmigiana di Melanzane, but Eddie has two more servings, and saves room for dessert.

“Eat up, Edoardo,” Cece pats his cheek. “Too skinny, Stephano. You starving him?”

“Never, Nonna,” Steve laughs, shaking his head, watching Eddie shovel another spoonful into his mouth, grinning at Steve across the dining room table.

Despite the fact that they’ve been seeing each other for a few months, after dancing around each other for the better part of two years—Eddie’s feeling things about Steve fixing his grandmas plumbing, doing yard work, etc. The flush in Steve’s face, hands on his hips, complaining about the state of the yard: Eddie’s never felt more in love (and other tingly, warm sensations).

Further, Eddie watches Steve and Cece scream at each other in stilted Italian as she tries to pick up a scorpion and take it outside with her bare hands. Finally, after about forty-five seconds of screaming and the scorpion trying to wiggle away, Steve takes Eddie’s boot and smacks the thing with a scared squeal. It crunches under the sole and twitches a few times before dying on the salmon colored tile, guts splattered everywhere.

“You handled that well,” Eddie muses, once the whole ordeal is over, taking a dishcloth and floor cleaner, scrubbing at the thing’s guts.

“I couldn’t let her get stung. She’s seventy-nine!” Steve says, then shudders. “I never wanna do that again.”

Later that night, Eddie sips coffee out of a lumpy clay mug, a Stephano Original, while she and Steve play rummy. Catching eyes over the table, they smile at each other, knowingly. After a while, Eddie gets tired, slinking off to the office, where Cecilia had set him up with an air mattress.

Before Steve retires to the spare bedroom that night, his Nonna pulls him aside, wrapping him in a warm hug.

“Ti voglio,” She whispers, kissing his temple, smoothing his hair back.

“I love you too,” Steve answers quietly, thrown off by the unexpected display of affection.

“And,” She pauses, scrunching her dark eyebrows together, deciding exactly what to say. “I really like that boy, Stephano.”

Steve’s chest fills with warmth, not knowing exactly if she means what he hopes she means. But at that moment, he’ll take it.

“Me, too, Nonna.” He whispers, grinning at her. “Me, too.”

TAGGING ONLY @yours-etc!!!! WRITE SOMETHING I MISS YOUR WRITING

[pridepages]

I’m not okay. So I wrote about it.

Take care of each other. Take care of yourselves. And remember: we will still be here tomorrow.

[hopelesslysleepy]

cocoa, quietly dust

*Deep breath* Here we go.

Summary: A three part work centered around Aziraphale's white winged mug.

Rating: G

Chapter 1: powder (4,706 words)

Chapter Summary: In a rut of monotonous waiting, Crowley asks Aziraphale for a cup of hot chocolate and drinks it out of the angel’s white winged mug.

Excerpt:

The angel swiftly walked towards the backroom and called over his shoulder, “Will dark chocolate suit you?”

“You know it does,” Crowley muttered, pushing his glasses up and rubbing both his eyes and his throbbing temples. He would devour whatever Aziraphale gave him. And he was fairly certain the angel understood that.

Crowley's memory of London's first chocolate house inspired by the lovely RiaTheDreamer and her gorgeous fic Are We Meant to Read the Footnotes, specifically Chapter 50. Yes, 50. And guess what, there's more where that came from! Clear your schedule for 3 days and go read it.

Thank you to the wonderful RitzWrites for beta reading and being a fantastic source of encouragement!!

[thisisej]

I'm so excited for Lovestruck!

I wrote two fics for the zine, and while previews are coming soon, here are two hints:

🚂🌈💋

🏰🗡️🩸

Be sure to check out the bundles this zine has to offer! (I want that lanyard)

[pridepages]

❤️��💜

u ever read a fanfic so good that you want. fanfic of the fanfic

[deakyjoe]

I Got Chills, They’re Multiplying

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x Reader (fem, she/her)

Category: sick fic, fluff

Summary: Despite being stubbornly independent, Bob won’t let you push him away in your time of need.

Warnings: sickness, sexual references and innuendos, implication of Bob having a “lieutenant” kink, just fluff mostly, reader is used to pushing people away, they’re like hella in love but won’t say it

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: Wrote this exhausted because I haven’t been able to sleep these past few days due to being sick. Enjoy!

Consider buying me a coffee :)

You stared at the last text message Bob had sent you.

Okay, get well soon!

It was unclear whether the constant pounding in your head was what was making you feel sick or if it was how quickly the text conversation had ended with your boyfriend. Well, kind-of boyfriend. You'd been on a lot of dates over the last few months but hadn't actually made it official yet.

It's not like you expected anything from him, you were used to men being pretty dismissive, and his message was actually very friendly, especially with the exclamation point at the end, but you couldn't help but feel a pang of something at him just ending the conversation like that.

To be fair to him, you had told him that you were fine, just had a cold or a minor case of the flu. It was a little worse than that but you weren't used to telling people your problems, used to keeping them bottled up inside. So you guess you couldn't really blame him for taking your word for granted and assuming that, as you'd said, you were fine. And maybe he was busy.

You sighed and tossed your phone aside, burying your face in one of the many blankets you'd dragged to your couch in an attempt to feel slightly warmer. You were being ridiculous, this is exactly what you wanted. And what you expected. At least you had peace and quiet for the day whilst you recovered.

Drifting off into a dreamless sleep came naturally with the state your body was in and you were thankful for it, hoping that the headache that had been plaguing you since you first woke up that morning would be gone by the time you woke up again.

It wasn't.

In fact, it only got worse when the rhythmic throbbing in your skull matched the timing of the person knocking on your front door. You groaned quietly to yourself and dragged yourself up off the couch, wrapping a blanket tight around your shoulders and padding to the door with only one sock on. You figured the other one must have fallen off during your nap.

You didn't even bother looking through the peephole to see who was bothering you, hoping to just snap at them to go away once you'd managed to unlock the door.

That plan was foiled when you were greeted by your favourite pair of baby blue eyes behind wire framed glasses. You immediately softened at the sight of your kind-of boyfriend.

"Oh, hi." You croaked, immediately feeling sheepish that you were about to shout at him without even thinking about the consequences.

Bob frowned at you, giving you a quick once over. "You're sick."

"Yes, I told you that." You chuckled, coughing into your elbow as soon as the words had left your mouth.

"Sicker than you let on." He clarified.

You shrugged, not knowing what to say. He was right. But that's just who you were. Keep everything to yourself, was your motto.

So you just asked him a question instead. "Why are you here? I said I was fine."

Bob smiled at that. "I think your exact words were 'yeah, I'm good' which I knew was a lie."

"Oh." That surprised you.

He went further. "You only say you're good when something's wrong."

God, were you that easy to read?

"So, I thought I'd come check on you." He stiffened suddenly. "I hope that's okay."

You didn't think it possible but somehow you softened more under his worried gaze. "Yes, that's very okay. Do you want to come in?"

You opened the door wider for him, stepping aside and grinning when he hurried in and kicked off his shoes. It was then that you noticed what he was wearing. Blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt. He looked good. Very good. If you didn't feel like you were dying then you'd definitely be jumping his bones right about now. You still kind of wanted to. You pushed the thought aside.

"Didn't realise how hot it is outside. I'm freezing." You mumbled, shuffling back towards your couch. "Do you want a drink?"

"No, thanks. But if I did then I'd make it myself. I'm here to look after you." He placed a hand on the small of your back to guide you in the direction of the blanket pile you'd previously made, smirking at the sight of it.

You shifted away from him. "You don't have to touch me. I'm sick and disgusting right now."

He huffed. "You're beautiful and lovely like always."

"Liar." You grumbled, pushing back into his hand nevertheless.

"No, just smitten and honest." He confessed, sitting you down on the couch and wrapping you in the millions of blankets. "Have you eaten today?"

You shook your head no. You didn't feel up to cooking.

"Want me to make you something?" He stood in front of you with his hands on his hips.

"No." You sighed. "It's okay."

"Yeah, I'm making you something."

You huffed. "You really don't have to-"

"I want to." He cut you off. “I don’t want you to think you can’t ask me for things. You know I care about you, right?”

You nodded slowly. “I know, I’m just used to doing stuff for myself.”

Bob smiled gently. “I know that. But now you don’t have to. I’m here for you. To help. Or whatever you need.”

You were about to respond with a fond thank you when you were interrupted by his cellphone chiming in his pocket.

“Sorry.” He grunted, pulling the device from the front of his jeans.

“It’s okay.” You coughed, curious as to why he was suddenly frowning. “Who is it?”

"Had plans with the team tonight. Was supposed to meet them for drinks." He mumbled, typing away on his phone.

"Oh, god." You rubbed your hand across your face. "Please go. You don't have to stay here. Don't let them down."

Bob suddenly looked up from his screen and gave you an amused smile. "I'm sure they'll understand that I'm looking after my sick girlfriend."

He said it so casually, as if he’d been doing it regularly. Your heart rate picked up at that. Girlfriend. His girlfriend. Bob Floyd's girlfriend. You could've squealed with glee. You stayed silent and settled for a pleased grin.

He sighed to himself once he’d replied to his team and placed his cell down on your coffee table. “Where were we? Oh! Right. Me cooking for you.”

“Like I said, you don’t need to do that.” You pulled your feet up onto the couch after a particularly violent shiver ran through you. “I’m perfectly fine.”

Bob reached out and pressed the back of his hand onto your forehead. “You have a fever. And you’re still shaking like we’re in Antarctica.”

“It’s just my immune system fighting back.” You hummed, leaning into his touch as he moved his hand down to cup your cheek.

“Exactly. And I’m sure some warm soup will just help your immune system out.” He crouched down in front of you, taking the other side of your face in his other hand. “Please let me take care of you.”

The words were so softly spoken, so tender, that you almost started crying. No one had ever sounded so sincere before, especially when it came to your well-being. If you weren’t so scared of infecting him, you would’ve leaned forward to kiss him.

So you could only reply quietly, with the smallest of nods. “Okay.”

His face burst into a dazzling smile, the kind that made you never want to stop looking at him. “Okay. You rest some more and I’ll go make that for you.”

You smiled weakly back at him, suddenly remembering something. “I don’t think I have any soup.”

Bob didn’t falter. “That’s alright. I’ll figure something out.”

You thought that maybe you were a little bit in love with him.

“Help yourself to anything.” It didn’t need to be said, he knew your kitchen pretty well at this point and you always made it clear that he was free to eat or use anything in it when he was over at your place.

He nodded, pressed a kiss to your forehead and stood up. “Try to sleep a little. This might take a while.”

You snorted, regretting it immediately as it made your throat feel all scratchy. “Yes, Lieutenant.”

Bob paused for a second, halfway to taking a step towards the kitchen, and looked back at you. “Lieutenant?”

You nodded, mouth twitching at the corners.

He seemed to think on it for a second. “Hm, we’ll come back to that.”

You giggled quietly into your blanket and settled back onto the couch, closing your eyes and thinking of Bob Floyd. Your boyfriend. Your extremely caring boyfriend. Who was in your kitchen making you soup! When did you suddenly get so lucky? The musings drifted away with you as you slipped into unconsciousness.

Some time passed before you were awoken again by Bob stroking the side of your face and softly uttering your name.

You rubbed your eyes as you sat up, slightly confused as your head cleared. “What’s going on?”

“Soup.” He replied simply, picking up your legs and sitting down before placing them across his lap. He leaned forward to grab the bowl and spoon on your coffee table and then turned to face you.

“You gonna feed me?” You teased.

Bob smiled. “I would if you wanted me to but I’m sure you’d rather I throw this soup in your face than do that.”

He was right.

“Hm, when did you get to know me so well?” You asked, half joking as you took the bowl and spoon from him. The soup was a rich green colour. What he’d found to put in it, you had no idea. “Always thought I was closed off.”

“You are.” He shrugged. “But I pay attention.”

Your eyes shot up to meet his again. He was just looking at you with a slight smile, hands smoothing up and down the lengths of your clothed legs.

You were definitely a little bit in love with him.

You defaulted to a joke. "Remind me when I'm feeling better that you're gonna get it sooo good."

Bob snorted. "I think the fever is making you delirious."

"I'm just frustrated because you, somehow, look hotter than usual and I'm too sick to do anything about it." You gestured vaguely to his outfit, using the spoon to point.

“I’m wearing jeans and a t-shirt.”

“Hot.” You insisted.

"Okay, I'll remind you." He rolled his eyes. “Now eat your soup.”

“Yes, Lieutenant.” You mumbled, dipping the spoon into the thick liquid.

He huffed out a laugh.

You weren’t surprised in the least that the soup was delicious. You were starting to believe that Bob might actually be the perfect man, some sort of miracle sent to Earth to apologise for all the wrongdoing in the world. How he’d managed to concoct a good soup out of the limited ingredients in your kitchen was beyond you. And yet, he’d done it.

“What the hell did you put in this?” You asked, frowning at him mock suspiciously. If you didn’t know him better you’d think he’d ordered it to your place while you were asleep. But Bob Floyd wasn’t that kind of guy.

“Some stuff I found laying around.” He shrugged modestly. “Didn’t follow a recipe or anything.”

You scoffed. “You’re something else.”

He just shrugged again, a pleased smile playing on the corners of his lips, and watched you practically inhale the rest of the dish. He was very glad you’d eaten it.

“How you feeling now?”

“Better.” You admitted. “But I don’t know if it’s because of the soup or because you’re here.”

Bob’s heart thudded against his rib cage at that confession. “Just happy to help.”

You hummed and stared at him fondly.

He had trouble getting his next question out, distracted by the way you were looking at him. “Do- do you- do you want to go back to sleep?”

You hesitated before answering him, mulling an idea over in your mind. “There is something I want.”

“Oh, yeah? What is it?” He was willing to do anything for you.

“Don’t want you to get sick.” You sighed.

He smiled. “I think we left that concern behind when I first got here.”

Your eyes widened. “No! Don’t make me feel guilty.”

“I’m not trying to.” Bob assured you. “But I doubt whatever you want is going to have a higher risk of getting me sick than me just sitting here next to you.”

You grumbled something underneath your breath to yourself.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind getting sick off of you.”

Maybe you were a lot in love with him.

So you let it burst out of you. “Wanna cuddle.”

Bob didn’t even respond to you, just scooped you up into his arms and maneuvered the two of you into the position he knew you liked - him on his back with you half on top of him and half next to him, one leg and one arm slung around him, your face buried his chest and head tucked under his chin, one of his hands moving to stroke up and down your arm, trace patterns across your back and comb through your hair.

He knew you so well.

You nuzzled your face against his t-shirt. “Thank you.”

He inhaled deeply. “You don’t need to thank me.”

“I want to. You didn’t have to do all of this.”

“Making you soup is nothing. It’s not like I’m giving you a kidney.” He paused. “Although I’d probably do that too.”

You chuckled against his chest. “What I mean is, most guys would’ve accepted my ‘I’m good’ text and carried on with their day. You didn’t.”

“Because I knew you were lying.” He reminded you.

“That’s my point. No one has ever known I was lying before.” You tilted your head up to look at him. “I’m glad you knew.”

“Me too.”

Bob wanted to kiss you but knew you’d kill him if he tried. So he settled for the smile he gave you that always made you look away nervously. Which you did, as predicted, and then swiftly fell asleep against him. He wondered how’d he’d gotten so lucky. Sure, he was caring for a sick person but it was the happiest he’d been in a long time. Which should sound ridiculous but to him it made more sense than anything.

He was knocked out of his thoughts when you whined lowly in your sleep and held onto him tighter. He smiled down at you and held you closer to his chest.

Bob knew then that he was a lot in love with you.

A/N: And we’re back!

[yuutaok]

⊹ ‧₊˚✿ Spring Leaves, But I Never Will

Yuuta Okkotsu x Reader

In the eerie mountain forest, you seek to find what is missing. Lost and disoriented, you encounter a mysterious boy with eyes like the dead, his presence is captivating. With a gentle hand, he beckons you, and you follow.

⊹ ‧₊˚✿ Word Count: ~4.4K

⊹ ‧₊˚✿ Content Warnings: 18+ MDNI (Minors Do Not Interact), P in V, AFAB! Reader, prone bone, unprotected sex, creampies, posessiveness, supernatural/paranormal stuff happens, open-ended ending, Reader is lost in a forest and meets Yuuta, Yuuta is a freak

⊹ ‧₊˚✿ Author's note: Hiii I am back with a vengeance. Belated birthday fic for Yuuta ♡ Life exploded me so I never got the chance to finish until now. Also, I would like to thank Sen (@/ banjjakz) for inspiring some of the horror aspects of this <3 They have such a lovely way of writing such mysterious horror that I deeply wanted to try my hand at, so please go read their Yuuta fics bc they are sooooo delicious ok I'll stop swooning now byeeeeee

Lost amidst the dense, foreboding forests of the mountains, you trudged forward, the fading sunlight casting long shadows across the winding trail. Your heart felt heavy with the weight of recent events, the memory of your painful breakup still fresh in your mind. It had only been a couple of days, of course your heart would still hurt and your hands would still shake. And still, the need to escape, to clear your head and find solace amidst the solitude of nature, had driven you to embark on this day-hike alone.

The townsfolk often whispered about this mountain as a haunt for the heartbroken.

And so, here you were.

The hike was pleasant. You took the time to leisurely look at every interesting formed rock or beautiful sprouting flower that you had stumbled upon. Spring had just begun and it felt nice to be in the calm serenity of nature. You took care to not stray too far from the beaten path but still found your way crunching through the trees to look at specimens that caught your eye. It was a great way to get your mind off of things, to forget about life for just a moment.

But now, as the sky darkened and the woods grew eerily silent around you, regret gnawed at the edges of your resolve. Perhaps venturing into the wilderness alone had been a mistake, a reckless act born of heartache. Panic tightened its grip on your chest as you realized that dusk was fast approaching, and you had yet to find your way back to civilization.

With each step you took through the dense undergrowth of the forest, the sense of urgency weighed heavy on your shoulders. Nervously, you glanced at the sky, watching as the sun dipped lower and lower, casting long shadows that danced ominously through the trees. Hope flickered like a dying flame within you, faltering as the daylight waned faster than anticipated.

Your mind wandered to the rumors that had long circulated about the mountain, tales of heartbroken souls seeking solace among the towering trees, only to vanish without a trace.

It was said that the forest held secrets whispered confessions etched into the bark of the old oak trees, and love letters left behind by those who had come seeking solace from their pain. But these were not ordinary declarations of affection; they were haunting, twisted reflections of despair, each word filled with grief, obsession, and heartbreak. You have heard people say that love is the worst curse of all.

Some claimed to have heard mournful voices echoing through the woods, the ghostly whispers of lovers calling out into the darkness, their cries fading into gusts of wind and rustling leaves. Others spoke of strange symbols carved into the earth, cryptic messages left behind by those who had succumbed to the forest's embrace.

You still had decided to come, despite the unsubstantiated rumors that were whispered by the old grannies in the surrounding town. You’d be damned if you suffocated under the weight of your heartache. But as you delved deeper and deeper into the forest, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched— honestly, maybe the old ladies knew something you didn’t.

Panic clawed at the edges of your mind, threatening to consume you whole. Desperate, you called out into the silent woods, your voice echoing into the vast expanse of darkness that surrounded you, “Hello…? Is anybody out there? Can anyone hear me?”

But the only response was the feeling of eyes on the back of your head and the haunting whisper of the wind through the branches, carrying with it a sense of desolation that chilled you to the bone.

With each passing moment, the forest seemed to close in around you, its shadows stretching like grasping fingers eager to ensnare their prey. You were never quite fond of the dark.

Heart pounding, you broke into a run, stumbling through the underbrush in a frantic search for anything familiar. Each rustle of leaves and snap of twigs beneath your feet sent a jolt of fear coursing through your veins, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you raced against the encroaching darkness.

And then, just as panic threatened to consume you whole, you burst through a thicket of bushes, only to collide with an unexpected figure standing in your path. The air left your lungs as you fell flat on your ass.

You looked up at what, or who, you had just crashed head-on into.

It was a boy, his dark eyes gleaming with an unsettling intensity as he regarded you with an enigmatic smile, despite you just pummeling into him with your full force. The shock of the encounter left you speechless, frozen in place as the realization dawned that you were not alone in the woods after all.

You made eye contact with the stranger, and a chill swept through the air, sending a shiver down your spine. His dark hair fell in tousled waves, framing his pale face in an unsettling contrast. His tired eyes bore into you with an intensity that made your skin crawl. A curtain of bangs parted across his forehead, framing his features in a shadowy veil. His lips twisted into a smile and held a hint of something that lurked just beneath the surface.

There was an undeniable aura of unease that surrounded the boy, a sense of foreboding that lingered in the air like a haunting melody. As he extended a hand towards you, offering salvation in the darkness, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something deeply unsettling about him.

"Are you lost?" he asked, his voice low and soothing. "It's dangerous to be out here alone at night. I can lead you to safety."

You looked up at the stranger incredulously, as if you would be dumb enough to follow a stranger you met out in the woods!

Sending your apprehension, the raven-haired boy smiles kindly, “I promise, I don’t bite. Please, it’s getting late and I don’t think I could live with myself if I left you out here by yourself.”

Weighing out your options, you realized that maybe this was your best choice. It’s either that or freezing out in the woods, or better yet being eaten by some wild animal that you hardly can find yourself against.

You looked around, dazed. With darkness closing in around you and no other options in sight, you accepted his offer.

“Alright,” you sighed. “But please don’t try anything, I’ve been told I have a killer right hook.”

He looks at you, obviously amused, “Of course, I’ll be on my best behavior.”

And begrudgingly you had to admit, despite everything in your body screaming for you to keep running, you felt completely and utterly relieved to see him.

As you followed the raven-haired boy deeper into the woods, the sense of unease only intensified, wrapping around you like a suffocating cloak. "Where are we going?" you finally asked, your voice trembling slightly with apprehension.

His dark eyes flickered with an unreadable emotion as he turned to face you, his expression guarded yet strangely calm. "To my cabin," he replied, his voice low and steady. "It's not far from here. You'll be safe there for the night. You can rest for as long as you need to."

Though his words offered reassurance, there was a lingering doubt in the back of your mind. You had heard stories of people disappearing in these woods, never to be seen again, and the thought sent a chill down your spine.

There was something about the dark-haired man that unsettled you, something that whispered of hidden dangers lurking beneath his calm exterior. And even so, something about him drew you in, made you feel so immediately safe with him.

"Who are you?" you pressed, your voice wavering with a mix of fear and curiosity. "And why were you out here alone?"

Yuuta hesitated for a moment as if weighing his words carefully. "My name is Yuuta Okkotsu," he said finally, his gaze meeting yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. "I live in the woods, away from civilization. As for why I was out here...let's just say I have my reasons."

His cryptic response only fueled your apprehension, but as the darkness closed in around you and the sound of rustling leaves filled the air, you realized that you had little choice but to trust him, at least for now. With a nod of reluctant acceptance, you followed Yuuta deeper into the woods, praying that you had not just made a grave mistake.

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

His cabin appeared suddenly, a rustic structure nestled amidst the towering trees, its windows glowing with the warm light of a fire within.

"I don't usually invite strangers into my home," Yuuta admitted, his gaze lingering on you with a mix of curiosity and something you couldn’t quite place your finger on. "But I can't leave you out here alone. You're welcome to stay until morning." Though grateful for his offer of shelter, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over you like a shroud.

There was something about Yuuta's demeanor, a subtle intensity in his gaze, that sent shivers down your spine.

You stepped into Yuuta's cabin, grateful for the warmth and shelter it offered. The cozy interior enveloped you in a comforting embrace, dispelling some of the tension that had gripped you since your encounter in the woods. It was humorous actually, how warm the cabin felt in comparison to the uneasiness its owner gave you.

“Home sweet home,” Yuuta said as he took your coat and nodded his head for you to follow him.

Yuuta wasted no time in playing the role of a gracious host, offering you a change of clothes and access to his shower. His bathroom was neat, he didn’t have much, just the basics, but it was still appreciated nonetheless.

As the hot water washed away the dirt and grime of the forest, you felt a sense of relaxation seeping into your bones, soothing the frayed edges of your nerves.

Emerging from the shower feeling refreshed and revitalized. You found Yuuta busy in the kitchen, a delicious aroma of spices and savory delights wafting through the air.

As you peered over his shoulder, you caught a glimpse of the bubbling pot on the stove, filled with rich, fragrant curry. The sight stirred memories of comforting meals shared with loved ones, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. "That smells amazing," you murmured, your mouth watering at the thought of indulging in the hearty dish.

Yuuta glanced up from his cooking, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "It's just a simple curry," he said modestly, though there was a hint of pride in his voice. "But I find that simple comforts are often the most satisfying."

You offered to help, eager to contribute to the meal in some way, but Yuuta shook his head gently. "No need to trouble yourself," he insisted, his gaze softening as he gestured for you to take a seat at the table. "Relax and settle down. I'll take care of everything."

Though you hesitated for a moment, the warmth of Yuuta's demeanor and the promise of a delicious meal were too enticing to resist. With a grateful smile, you sank into a chair, content to watch as Yuuta worked his culinary magic, the comforting rhythm of his movements lulling you into a sense of peace and contentment.

As you settled into Yuuta's cabin, you couldn't help but take in your surroundings with a sense of curiosity. The interior was simple yet cozy, with polished wooden floors that creaked softly underfoot and walls adorned with faded photographs and intricate tapestries.

The cabin had a rustic charm to it, its bare furnishings lending an air of simplicity to the space. Yet, despite its minimalistic design, everything seemed meticulously arranged, each item in its rightful place. There was a sense of order and precision that spoke to Yuuta's meticulous nature, a trait that you found oddly comforting.

On the shelves lining the walls, you noticed an eclectic array of books, their well-worn spines bearing the marks of countless readings. From classic literature to obscure texts on folklore and mysticism, the collection spoke of a curious mind.

Nearby, a shelf displayed a collection of handmade erasers, their vibrant colors and whimsical shapes. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of these charming little creatures. There was a sense of warmth and homeliness to Yuuta's cabin that made you feel strangely at ease. It was as if the space itself radiated a sense of comfort and belonging, welcoming you with open arms into its cozy embrace.

Before you knew it, the food was done and Yuuta served you a steaming plate.

“Thank you for the meal,” you said, nervous.

“It’s my pleasure,” Yuuta replied.

With the two of you sitting down to eat, you found yourself opening up to Yuuta in a way you hadn't expected. You told him about your recent breakup, the pain and heartache that had driven you to seek solace in the wilderness.

Yuuta listened attentively, his dark eyes reflecting a depth of understanding that surprised you. "It's dangerous to be out in the woods alone," he said softly, his voice tinged with a note of concern. "Who knows what evils could be lurking in the darkness? I'm glad I found you when I did." A chill ran down your spine.

Though he had shown you nothing but kindness, you couldn’t quite shake the feeling of anxiety that crept up around Yuuta's presence. He was good company, however, and you worked hard to ignore the way your hands clammed up and each hair on your skin stood up when he leaned in closer to speak with you. You chalked it up to your nerves.

The two of you continued to converse, him asking you more about your life and you asking about his. As Yuuta shared snippets of his past, you found yourself drawn to him in a way you couldn't quite explain. There was a sort of charm to him, an undeniable allure. Despite the lingering doubts that were dancing in the back of your mind, you couldn't deny the attraction you had towards him. You felt like a moth catching fire as it approached an open flame.

With a sigh, Yuuta leaned back against the cushions, his gaze drifting to the dancing flames of his fireplace as if lost in thought. "You know," he begins, his voice a low, melodic murmur that sends shivers down your spine, "I wasn't always a hermit living in the woods." His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken sorrow.

"What happened?" you ventured softly, your voice barely more than a whisper, to not disturb the mood.

Yuuta's gaze flickered to yours, a hint of sadness lurking in the depths of his dark eyes. "I used to live in the city, surrounded by noise and chaos," he admitted, his words tinged with bitterness. "But... I lost someone very dear to me." His voice trailed off, grief etched into the lines of his face.

"She was my childhood sweetheart," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper as if speaking the words aloud pains him. "We were inseparable, bound together by pure, untainted, love.”

A heavy silence fell between you, broken only by the crackling of the fire and the soft rustle of the wind outside. "She was taken from me," Yuuta murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "And I... I couldn't bear to stay in that world any longer."

As he spoke, you sensed the weight of his sorrow pressing down on him, a burden too heavy for one mere person to bear alone. "I tried to move on, to forget her and the pain of losing her," Yuuta admitted, his voice raw with emotion. "But no matter how hard I tried, I could never escape the memories of our time together."

“So I left," he confessed, "I left everything behind and retreated into the solitude of the forest, hoping to find something to fill the hole in my heart.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his sorrow, and you could not help but feel a surge of empathy for the man before you. At that moment, you realize that Yuuta and you are not so different after all, both haunted by heartbreak, seeking solace in the expanse of trees. In his eyes, you saw a reflection of your desires, a longing for connection and understanding.

But even as your heart yearned to unravel the secrets hidden within Yuuta’s dark and mangled heart, a sense of unease lingered at the edges of your consciousness. There was still something unsettling about the way the shadows seemed to dance around him, as if alive with an energy of their own. Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on…

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

As the night stretched on, the air thick with a palpable tension, you felt a strange sense of drowsiness wash over you. Your eyelids grew heavy with exhaustion as you let out a quiet yawn.

With a soft smile, Yuuta reached out to you. His was touch gentle, yet firm, possessive even. You felt yourself lean into his touch as if he weaved an invisible spell around you.

"You look tired," he murmured, his voice a soothing melody that seemed to echo with the whispers of the forest itself. "Come with me, let me take care of you."

His words washed over you like a warm embrace, dispelling the last glimmers of doubt and fear as you allow yourself to be guided by his steady hand. With a silent nod, you allowed Yuuta to lead you to the bedroom, the warmth of his presence enveloping you like a protective shield as you sank into the soft embrace of the bed.

The room was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains, casting shadows across the walls like dancing spirits. He leaned over you, his body flush against yours, his hand steady and reassuring against your skin.

As you lay there, the haze of drowsiness clouding your senses, you felt Yuuta begin to pull away. You grasped at the hem of his shirt, silently begging him not to go.

His features were veiled by the shroud of night, his smile, though unseen, seemed to materialize in the darkness. With a gentle pull, you drew him down to lay beside you.

"Do you want me to stay?" Yuuta's voice, a soft murmur, caressed your ear as his head nestled against your shoulder.

"Yes," you found yourself pleading, the words slipping from your lips in a whispered plea. "Don't leave."

Yuuta's lips brushed gently against your neck, his touch tender yet possessive. "I won’t,” he murmured, “I won’t ever leave,” his voice a velvet whisper that sent shivers down your spine. “I’ll keep you safe, I promise,”

In your sleepy state, you found yourself melting into his touch. Yuuta's kisses trailed a path of fire along your skin. Each kiss was a feather-light caress that seeped into each layer of your skin, burning you from the inside out.

Slowly, he moved up your neck, his lips leaving a trail of warmth in their wake as he explored every inch of your skin with adoration.

As Yuuta's lips found their way to your jaw, you felt yourself melting into his embrace, lost in the dizzying whirlwind that you now understood as Yuuta Okkotsu.

His movements were calm and deliberate, his touch gentle yet commanding as he explored every curve and contour of your body with dedicated devotion. Each touch left you yearning for more. You would die if it meant you could feel this loved forever.

Soon enough, Yuuta’s lips found yours, his kisses both tender and possessive, his passion evident in the way he claimed your lips.

As his lips danced with yours, you found yourself with the thought of never being apart from him. It filled you with a sense of completion. You could feel the depth of his devotion. Could he feel yours?

As if to answer your question, Yuuta’s touch became more urgent, his hands roaming over your body with a ravenous hunger. You felt happy that you could be consumed so ardently, that you found yourself secretly hoping that you at least tasted good.

Breaking out of your thoughts, you realized Yuuta was removing your borrowed clothes bit by bit. He made sure you were left in your panties.

His strong hands moved to caress your bare skin, his fingers leaving imprints on your body. Yuuta’s nails and grip dug into your skin as he kissed you. His hands moved to explore every curve and contour of your body with a reverence that bordered on worship. You wondered if he was trying to memorize every inch of you.

You leaned up to deepen the kiss, which only furthered Yuuta’s excitement. His lips moved hungrily against yours, his touch seeming eager, desperate, or perhaps so incredibly lonely, even.

Yuuta’s wet kisses left you dizzy, your senses were overwhelmed by him. Noticing the strain between his legs, you reached your hands down to unbutton his pants & paw at his boxers. Yuuta obliged by tossing them off to the side with your lost articles of clothing.

You moved to guide his hips to meet yours. With him between your legs, you moved to grind against him. You both gasped as his hard member pressed against your soaked panties.

You look up to see his reaction but notice something in Yuuta’s eyes become dark. His grip on your hips became tighter as his nails dug crescents into your soft skin.

Yuuta took this moment to grind himself deeper into you, his cock sliding between the lips of your pussy soaked panties. You let out a wanton moan, grinding back against him, desperate for any form of friction or release. You felt his cock rub against your swollen clit, moving back and forth in a way that left you crying out for more.

As Yuuta continued to tease you, he paused for a moment, his breath warm against your ear as he spoke in a low voice, "Do you want this?”

You shivered, a chill running down your spine.

With a hitched breath, you nodded.

“Will you be mine?" He asked, his eyes peering deep and dark into your own. You felt like he could see right into you like he was clawing his way into your soul to make a home in it.

You were okay with that.

You nodded again, “Yes, I’ll always be yours.”

With a glassy darkness in his eyes, he flipped you over onto your stomach, his movements rough and commanding as he positioned himself behind you. He tsk’ed as he ripped your ruined panties off, throwing off into the darkness of the room.

Well, you didn’t need those, anyway.

You could feel the heat of his breath against your ear as he whispered, “I’ll make it so you can’t ever think to leave,” sending shivers down your spine.

Yuuta trailed hot kisses along your skin as he positioned himself above you. With a low moan, he pressed himself against you, the throbbing hardness of his member seeking entrance to your dripping heat.

And then, with a thrust, he entered you. Yuuta’s hands gripped your ass as he slowly sunk his hard length into your wet core. You sucked in a breath, a wave of pleasure crashing over you as he filled your pussy completely. He was big. So much bigger than you anticipated.

‘We fit together perfectly’, you thought to yourself.

His pace was slow, with him getting used to the tightness of your cunt. You looked up at him with adoration as he leaned over your shoulder to give you a sloppy open-mouthed kiss. A trail of saliva left between your lips when you parted.

Yuuta’s spent no extra moment finding his stride, his movements becoming rough and unyielding as he fucks you with such devoted reverence. You’re helpless. All you could do was beg for more as you gulped in the air.

It’s obscene, the way he makes you moan. You’re powerless to fight against the way he makes your heart skip and your stomach churn. You feel on fire like he’s burning you to a crisp of ash and dust only to resurrect you again if only to just keep fucking you.

Yuuta’s movements become more urgent and the tension between you reaches its peak. With each thrust, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy, your senses overwhelmed by Yuuta.

Suddenly, you feel a surge of pleasure coursing through your veins, your body convulsing with the intensity of your release. With a cry, you shatter into a million pieces, the only thing able to leave your mouth is the chant of, “Yuuta-- Ah, Yuuta, Yuuta.”

“I’m here,” he replies, voice strained feeling your pussy tighten around his cock, “I’m right here.” Feeling the wetness and tightness of your cum triggers Yuuta’s climax, and with a stifled moan, he follows suit, pouring his hot cum into you.

Yuuta pulls you into his arms, his leaky cock still hard inside of you. Your dark-haired lover kisses your temple and leaves sweet whispers across the sweat of your skin. He holds you close, entwining you into him as your eyelids get heavy and you feel sleep take over your spent body.

You feel loved.

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

In your dreams, you find yourself lost in a labyrinth of shadows, the air thick with the scent of decay. Whispers echo through the darkness, taunting you with half-formed promises and cryptic warnings.

You stumble through the endless maze, searching for an escape, but the shadows seem to shift and twist, leading you further into the depths of your despair.

And then, just when you think you can bear it no longer, you see him. Yuuta stands before you, his dark eyes looking into yours as he reaches out to you with a hand shrouded in darkness.

He whispers something, you don’t understand. But you still reach out, taking his hand into yours.

You awaken with a start, the echoes of your nightmare still lingering in the recesses of your mind.

Heart pounding, you sit up in bed, the room bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains.

Yuuta is gone, but his warmth remains.

A sense of foreboding settles over you like a shroud.

[theysherobinbuckley]

stobin childhood friends au: Robin 100% goes through that little sibling phase where she wants to do absolutely everything that Steve does, but because Steve is so lonely at home he THRIVES on it instead of pulling the exasperated older sibling act.

Steve is playing soccer with some boys at recess and Robin wants to play? Hell yeah, Robs, you better get in on this.

Robin cries and screams until her parents sign her up for the same little league Steve is in? that's great, now they can have sleepovers after practice!

That one summer Robin absolutely insisted they wear matching outfits every day? Great idea, Robin, now if one of us gets lost, we can tell people to look for another kid in the same color. Foolproof plan!

[pridepages]

Thank you for the shoutout!

For the curious… my first fic The Best Bar in the World is new and improved! The text has recently been edited for concision and clarity.

RWRB FirstPrince Coffee Shop AU Recs

Coffee shops, restaurants, bars, delis, cheese shops - you'll find those recs here. Give the author some love if you find something you like!

black coffee and cinnamon rolls by viciouslyqueer. T, 2.1k. Alex walks into the coffee shop asking for a coffee and cinnamon roll. Henry tells him they don't have cinnamon rolls.

That doesn't stop Alex from coming back, though.

Make it Good by @smc-27. T, 3.7k. TurkeyOnRye is so hot Alex almost dies every time the guy walks in. Same thing every Tuesday. Turkey on rye, bag of chips, and a sparkling water.

“The usual?” Alex asks. TurkeyOnRye smiles at him, nods. “How’s your Tuesday?”

He gets the bread, he reaches for the knife, he tries not to cut his fucking hand off watching TurkeyOnRye push his hair back.

you're all that i need by @rmd-writes. M, 3.9k. “Alex.” Henry leans against the wall behind the counter with his arms folded, wearing a pale blue cable knit sweater with the sleeves pushed up and navy chinos. Alex wishes he wouldn’t because it only emphasises his forearms.

He crosses his own arms in response. “Henry.”

“Are you actually looking for a book?” Henry asks with a sigh. “Or are you just wasting my staff’s time?”

“That staff member is my sister.”

“I’m well aware,” Henry says drily. “Doesn’t change the fact that you’re probably wasting her time. Which book are you looking for?”

“Oh.” Alex grimaces slightly. “I’m not actually–” He exhales. “Hunter is in the coffee shop, so I got the fuck out.” 

ask a guy his name first by @coffeecatsme. T, 5.2k. British accent. Blue eyes. Alex doesn’t know how he’s supposed to handle any of that without an ounce of caffeine in his blood.

He gulps. “Name?”

“Henry.”

Alex’s shaky hands make the name look like Hanri, with a heart instead of a dot for the i. He drops a bag of Earl Grey in the cup, filling it halfway with coffee before he realizes his mistake.

The second cup, the name Hanriey scribbled on the side, makes its way to the counter.

Or, 10 times Alex "misspells" Henry's name and 2 times Henry does it. 

Stop, caffeinate, and listen by @clottedcreamfudge. M, 5.3k. The second Alex walked into Henry's coffee shop wearing a shirt that said 'fuck the patriarchy' - which is, he presumes, someone else's, due to the fact that it's a little small on him - he resigned himself to falling completely and hopelessly in love. Alex - jewel-bright and caustic, cinnamon coffee and curls that Henry wants to tangle his fingers in - is quite clearly straight, and Henry's foolish heart doesn't seem to care much for the limitations this puts on their interactions. He's lost, irrevocably, and Alex hasn't the faintest clue.

Will You Brie Mine? by @cha-melodius. T, 5.7k. Today, as Henry tells him all about the Manchego, Alex tries his best to listen and not fixate on the mole next to the corner of Henry’s mouth or the way his shoulders strain the seams of his white uniform shirt. It’s not a particularly easy task for him, in all honesty.

“Would you care for a sample?” Henry asks, as if Alex has ever said no to him.

“I’d love one,” Alex tells him instead of saying I’d like to sample you.

(Or, Henry sells cheese and Alex is somehow his best customer. It's not really about the cheese.)

Bea's Bakes by ronans. NR, 7.2k. Well, here goes nothing, he thinks to himself. It’s the first time he’s had Alex alone in a while so now’s his chance. And if it all goes tits up he could maybe move to Paris and begin a career as a reclusive novelist like he’d always dreamed.

‘I hope I’m not reading this wrong, Alex, but would I be able to get your number?’

He can literally hear Alex’s breath catch as he stares at Henry like a deer in headlights. Scratch moving away forever, Henry may just cringe himself to death.

‘Was I that obvious?’

Or, Henry works in his sister's London bakery when the arrival of the Claremont-Diaz-Hollerans shakes things up in a way he wasn't expecting.

Have One (On Me) by @myheartalivewrites. E, 10.1k. "Henry moves on to help other patrons, and Alex tries not to stare. He’s beautiful, and graceful as he reaches around for glasses and bottles, and then he picks up a cocktail shaker and Alex has to look away as he sets his biceps to work again, shaking it. It’s distracting."

Alex goes to Shaan’s bar regularly. It’s almost a second home to him. But one day, there’s a new bartender working the bar. He’s hot and Alex is into it except… the guy’s wearing a wedding ring.

i know a place by @indomitable-love. M, 10k. The low light of the bar makes it easy to relax. There's a soft hum of chatter and a steady beat to the music that isn't overwhelming. It's easy; smooth dark wood and strings of multi-coloured lights with posters of pieces of history on the walls – pictures from Stonewall, Harvey Milk sitting on the top of a car riding through San Francisco; a poster of Bowie sits one wall next to Freddie Mercury against exposed brick. It’s comforting, safe. 

He doesn't even realise that the brightly dressed bartender has disappeared and been replaced by someone else until he looks back again to see a small woman with black hair in a plaid shirt. Behind her, the blonde guy, who is no longer looking down at his notebook, but looking right across the bar, at Alex.

wherein Alex is early to meet Nora at a bar that he does not realise is a gay bar and he starts to realise some things.

like snow on the beach (you want me) by coffeecatsme. T, 11k. That’s the thing about The Magical Brew. It only appears to those in need, to those who lift their heads from their work, to those who need just a little bit of magic to turn their lives around. The gate is rusty, the lawn overgrown from disuse, but to the one in need, it looks, perhaps, like the most magical place in the world. Alex wouldn’t exchange that for foot traffic and a few more coins in his pocket.

It’s the promise of helping out those in need that keeps The Magical Brew alive. Yet Alex still couldn’t have predicted just how much his life would change simply from a dimpled smile and blue eyes that brighten only in his presence.

Or, 5 times Alex offers a little magical help to Henry, and 1 time he doesn't have to.

and we danced by rizcriz. T, 15k. And we danced

Out there on that empty hardwood floor

The chairs up and the lights turned way down low

The music played, we held each other close

And we danced

or, Alex and Henry meet in a bar.

Catalyst of Change by @uglygreenjacket. E, 17k. Alexander Gabriel Claremont-Diaz is American through and through, so how he found himself going to graduate school in Scotland and working in a coffee shop is still a little beyond his understanding.

And Prince Henry? Well, that's another thing entirely.

When Alex is outed in his last year of college, he packs up his life and tries his best to leave the trauma behind. It's all going fine until he collides, quite literally, with a future he never imagined.

Call Me By My Name by clottedcreamfudge. E, 24k. The fucked up thing is that this isn’t the kind of world where you can ‘not believe’ in soulmates; they’re a scientific fact. There have been studies, there’s a science dedicated to it - Alignment Science, which is just about the biggest heap of bullshit Alex has ever heard - and it is literally just how the world works.

Nobody has been able to adequately explain to him, however, how you end up with your soulmate’s name in your subconscious when you’re born, or why this is the way you have to get it out.

Alex doesn't believe in soulmates, and Henry doesn't believe in the likelihood of finding his. Enter: coffee shops. 

Bite Your Tongue on Purpose by Woodsarelovely. M, 32k. “Hey, man. Can I get a black coffee to go?”

“Er…” he says – a faintly bewildered expression on his face. “Yes, I imagine so.”

Turns out the guy is also British, which is like, whatever. Alex gives him one of his best smiles. “Great, thanks.”

Hot Barista glances vaguely around himself, then back to Alex. He looks simultaneously surprised and uncertain, like some kind of aggressively handsome time-traveller who’s been unexpectedly yeeted into a different century. After a beat, he says – “From me?”

“Uh yeah. You’re working here, right?”

“Well... yes?”

Alex tries very hard not to sigh.

Great. Looks like he’s dealing with one of those people who are so attractive, they’ve never had the need to develop any kind of personality beyond that of a Tupperware container of room-temperature potato salad.

Alex absolutely does not have time for whatever this shit is.

Five times Henry serves Alex coffee and one time Alex serves Henry.

Strap in, folks. It's a coffee shop AU ...Kind of. 

The Best Bar in the World by @pridepages. T, 76k. If someone had asked Alex to picture a gay bar, he probably would have imagined flashing rainbow lights, pounding club music, and a sticky dive floor coated in spilled beer and vodka. The last thing he would have thought of was this...

As Alex drank in the sight, his companion drew back heavy curtains, allowing sunlight to pour in from the quiet courtyard outside. The man turned back with a smile at the look of awe on Alex's face. "Welcome to Wilde's...I'm Henry, and it's a pleasure to meet you at last."

The same day Alex Claremont-Diaz is dumped by his boyfriend, he discover's Wilde's: the best bar in the world.

Or

The one in which Henry Fox owns a bar and falls for one of his regulars.

I only tag an author once per post, but I'm still figuring out firstprince author handles. If you see one I may not know or find a broken link, please give me a heads up!

Master List of RWRB FirstPrince Recs

Master List of Recommendations

[someforeignband]

hello gay people in my computer!! (hello to my steddie moots sorry i've been in destiel-land,,,)

i'm gonna be posting some writing (hopefully) soon! and i miss you guys, but i FINALLY finished my fucking semester !!!!!!!!!!!!

[pridepages]

Something Gently Healing

I had a plan for November books that I have suddenly had to hard pivot away from due to recent events.

If you're curious, I'll tell you more about it under the cut.

Here's the part that matters: we are all about cozy books, healing love stories, and fun in this space through the end of December. I will come back to some of the heavier stories to do them justice later in 2025.

Stay safe, stay strong, keep sharing our stories 🏳️‍🌈 🏳️‍⚧️

So after a long break due to professional demands (I have written so much for such unworthy audiences it makes me want to lose my mind), I had a whole plan for November.

The theme was supposed to be: "Dark Deeds, Dark Reads."

Think mysteries, political thrillers, psychological horror, etc. I had three novels prepared to post about.

And then November 5, 2024 happened.

In case you missed it (or are reading it in the distant future, in which case: if you can reply and give us some hope, please do), hatred, bigotry, misogyny, homophobia, transphobia, and toxic patriarchy had a massive political victory in the United States. As someone who lives in a deep red state, I am struggling profoundly not just with the broad brushstrokes of who won, but with how they won and what the data trends are saying. In sum: my countrymen have unmasked, and most of them hold deep evil in their hearts in the form of greed, cruelty, selfishness, vengefulness, or apathy.

I wish I had the strength to give a message of hope, but I'm struggling just to feel anything at the moment.

And that's where this blog comes in.

I started this blog a couple of years ago as a place to talk about what I was legally forbidden to say. As an English teacher, "Don't Say Gay" gagged me and ground me down like a boot between my shoulders pushing my mouth into the dirt.

I needed a place to hold up the mirrors and open the windows to everything bright and beautiful about the queer experience: loving others and loving ourselves.

For a brief moment, things started to get better in the real world. There was a shining, shimmering mirage of hope.

But that's the thing about mirages. Get too close, and they vanish.

So now I need to kindle the spark of rainbow joy in my heart. It's 'banked, but not doused,' and I need to coax it into a bright strong flame.

So I'll be putting aside the books I had planned to write about for "Dark Deeds, Dark Reads" November. Instead, I will be making the hard shift to the gentle, soft love stories I had planned for December.

Please do not think this is because I don't take what is happening in the world seriously. I do. All too much. That's why I need this. And I want to share it with anyone who needs a little sweetness to cut the bitterness, too.

For the curious, these are the "Dark Deeds, Dark Reads" that I will be returning to at some point in 2025:

Flawless Girls by Anna-Marie Mclemore

Earthflown by Frances Wren

Rough Pages by Lev AC Rosen

For now, I wish you strength and safety where you can find it. Remember, we will still be here tomorrow.

XO

EJ

[hopelesslysleepy]

Forever gonna be chasing that warm fuzzy feeling I get when someone leaves me kudos on AO3

[tngrace]

Aaaaahhhhhhh it's so cute!!!!! I love it 😍

been you all along

Somehow, in a truly horrifying twist of fate, Bradley's mortal enemy became his daughter's favorite person.

Or

Five times Jake was his daughter's favorite person, and the one time he was Bradley's too.

🥀

When Helen shows up at his door, she's crying silently, her nose red and her eyes puffy.

She's also holding a sleeping baby to her chest, its head resting on her thin shoulders. Bradley stares at them both, stunned.

"I can't do this," she tells him, a shaking hand coming up to wipe the tears off her cheeks.

The words send a shiver down his spine. Helen not only sounds tired and terrified out of her mind, but also so, so sure.

"Do what? Helen-"

"I can't raise a kid on my own," she whispers, "I don't want to raise a kid on my own, Bradley. I don't know how to be a mom."

"Wait-"

"All her papers are here- I signed everything, so you have full custody-"

"-wait-"

"Everything I bought for her is in this bag-"

"Helen!"

She stops speaking, swallows, then puts the empty car seat she's been holding down on the ground. Her hands aren't shaking anymore, and neither is her voice. "If you don't want to keep her, you can give her up for adoption, or put her in foster care."

Her.

A little girl.

He has a little girl.

"Helen, I don't know how to do this," he says, pleading, takes a step forward.

She takes one back, away from him, and away from their kid. She looks down at their little girl, and her face crumbles, but she just shakes her head. Helen shrugs helplessly, and tears continue to stream down her face. "Neither do I."

She bends down, puts the kid in the car seat, and presses a kiss to her forehead.

Then, she's gone.

.

Caroline Jane Bradshaw.

She has ten fingers, ten toes, and his mother's eyes.

He never told Helen about his mom, so it must be a coincidence that she chose a name so similar to hers.

Bradley loves it.

Caroline coos, lips stretched in a wide grin as she looks up at him with her big blue eyes. He sists on the cold floor beside her car seat, grabs one of her little pudgy hands in his much bigger one and smiles back. Her smile falls off her face after a few seconds, and she kicks up her legs, lifts her back off the seat. She screws up her face, clenches her little fists, and lets out a mighty wail that scares the hell out of him. He puts a hand on her head and gently runs it through her short hair, scratching lightly in what he Hope's is a soothing manner. He turns out to be wrong, and she only screams louder. It gets to the point where her lips are turning blue from how hard she's crying, and Bradley can't take it anymore, so he gathers the courage to pick her up. He's clumsy at first, and almost drops her a couple of times, but then her cries quieten, and she let's her head drop to his chest. He cranes his neck awkwardly, and sees her eyes drooping as she settles. He leans back against the couch and does too.

He's scared shitless of doing this, doesn't know the first thing about being a dad, but-

She has his mother's eyes, and his father's nose, and- she's his daughter.

She's his daughter, and he won't give her up.

.

《1》

Come October, Bradley almost quits flight school. Between his grueling schedule, the difficulty of finding a nanny willing to work the hours he needs her to, and his baby girl screaming her head off practically all the time, Bradley's running on coffee and sheer force of will.

Tonight (this morning?) is no different- it's 3 am and he's pacing his room with Caroline in his arms, swaying from side to side in an effort to calm her. Her cries quiet down every now and then, but she doesn't stop crying.

She's so loud he almost doesn't hear the knock on the door. He ignores it in favor of grabbing a water bottle from the fridge. Whoever it is is persistent, though, knocks becoming louder with every second the door is still shut. Bradley huffs and walks over, yanks the door open so harshly he could have ripped it off its hinges.

The man on the other side has his hand raised in the air, as if he was about to knock again, and Bradley raises an eyebrow. Hangman- his rival, and the bane of his existence- somehow manages to look good even though he's in sweatpants and a tank top, his hair disheveled and eyes wild- so he's either crazy or sleep-deprived.

Bradley can relate.

"What-"

"Give 'er here," the man mutters, extending his arms out. Bradley automatically moves away, turning to the side in an effort to hide his daughter.

Hangman rolls his eyes. "Listen man, I have ta' be up in-" he looks at his watch and curses, "-less than three hours and I haven't slept a wink today- and trust me when I tell you, me not sleeping? Not in anyone's best interest."

"I don't give

Bradley hesitates. The other man throws his hands up in the air, then turns around and starts heading back to his room.

"Wait," Bradley calls out, voice shaky.

.

"-my horse's name is Olive," Jake is saying as he walks back and forth with Caroline in his arms. His daughter is starting to quiet down, letting out the occasional hiccup here and there, "-and we have chicken, and cows, and pigs- hey, do you know what we have on the farm? A swing-" he goes on like that, jumping from one subject to another, until she's totally settled and- to Bradley's utter disbelief, her eyes start to droop. Hangman keeps talking, gradually getting quieter, until he stops. For a few seconds, the only sound in the room is their breathing, and Bradley is so grateful he thinks he might cry.

But he also feels like a failure.

"Want me to put her down?"

Bradley nods shakily, gestures at the crib besides his bed.

Hangman walks past him to the door, and though Bradley knows he should say something to thank him, or at least walk him to the door, he can't get himself to look away from his little girl.

"Hey," Hangman calls out, waits until Bradley tears his eyes away from Caroline before he continues, "you're doing good, Rooster."

Then he walks out, and Bradley collapses onto his bed.

You're doing good.

It might not be the truth, but damn it all, it does help.

[thisisej]

It's been too long since I last threw a fic into tumblr's void. So I've come to sacrifice two: one WIP, one one-shot.

Anti-Gravity is an f/f omegaverse fic with a pinch of dystopia, set in an alternate pro-heroes universe where Himiko became an underground hero instead of a villain. After a breakup leaves her reeling, Ochako is determined to take a step back from romance. And alphas. A rule that wouldn't be so hard to follow if pro hero Sanguine, the mysterious underground hero with a pretty smile sharp enough to match the pointed tips of her canines, didn’t make Ochako’s ‘no alphas’ rule so. Damn. Difficult. ⚠️Rated E. Ongoing⚠️

Here, Now is a Himiko-centric, post-war character study with an dash of Togachako, a little healing, a little angst, and a little hope for a new future. Following her release from Tartarus, a healing Himiko contemplates her place in this new future, and the pain of her past, during her and Ochako's first Christmas together.

⚠️Rated M. 3.3k. Warnings for mentions of past child abuse⚠️

[amourluvie]

Eyeless Jack with reader who has ZERO sense of self preservation?

Like- will pick up a venomous snake and happily explain how you can tell it’s venomous while it tries it best to snap at them.

I love this idea

Eyeless jack with reader who has ZERO sense of self preservation (⁠｡⁠♡⁠‿⁠♡⁠｡⁠)

- he's worried and scared

- actually he's more than worried

- the time when u calmly picked up an venomous snake out of nowhere, explaining how venomous it is while the snake itself was trying to bite and snap at you,he panicked and ran to you,and grabbed the snake from you and threw it as far he could. And scolded you because you could have gotten biten,and he didn't want his beloved to be biten.

- but honestly,he kinda has low self preservation too,ever since he became a demon he kinda lost any humanity left in him,that included senses .

- atleast he has someone to match his freak with😭

I hope you liked this !