#sleepy and the great friend collective

[sleepyowlwrites]

Merry Christmas, or happy another holiday, my best beloveds who live in my phone, and in my heart, and on my mind, and perched on the branches of my soul tree, nestled here together with me. I love you all so, so much, beyond even my ability to say. And I'm a writer, so that's saying something. Joy and blessings, my friends.

[sleepyowlwrites]

there are three categories of nicknames for my friend collective:

based on/a play on your url

vibes/associations

something we came up with together that makes sense (or doesn't)

so for instance, one of my first nickname friends was @akindofmagictoo and hers is Maybe Sorcery. I also sometimes call her Perchance Enchantment, just for fun. She's the only one who gets two whole two-word nicknames.

and there's @avrablake whose url reminds me of dusky cobblestone streets just after it's rained so she's Rainstorm. And when I'm feeling especially fond I add the addendum daughterdearest.

and another one is @zmwrites and hers is Ghosty, because she told me she does ghost tours. The word ghosty isn’t particularly warming but for me it is. It's very cute.

so if I suddenly show up in your mailbox with a nickname for you that seems a little random, it's not! it's one of these three options.

please note that nicknames can be bargained for, or changed depending on preference. I went away and came back with a better nickname for @nopoodles and it turns out Paperbirch is pretty perfect.

anyway you all should be thankful I don't put the same (lack of) thought into nicknames as my dad, who is a serial nicknamer but they're always very questionable. My mom, sister, and myself can all be called "BK" now, for none good reasons.

[sleepyowlwrites]

Hey kids. Beloveds. Sleepyheads. Rioters and gentlefolk. Whoever needs to hear this.

Here's your most recent reminder than you're all in my garden of friendship and I love each one of you for the specific plant that you are and I am going to continue to love you forever.

That is all.

[sleepyowlwrites]

when I say "you're so cute" as a response to something you've told me, what I mean is actually "you're so affectionable" aka "you are exactly the right shape of pot to hold all the affection I am going to pour into you (and I'm very pleased about that (and I plan on indeed giving you so much affection))" but that's way too long so

"you're so cute" is what you get

[sleepyowlwrites]

unlike what the cat usually drags back my gifts do not go bad

if you’re offline or away and i message you something (like a link to a meme or a picture or w/e) honestly just assume that i’m just leaving it there for when you get back and not expecting you to answer straight away. i don’t need you to respond with “hey, sorry, i wasn’t at the computer!” or anything. i was leaving u a gift for later.

[sleepyowlwrites]

btw all of you are my valentine. I am kissing you on the forehead and placing cornflowers behind your ears and giving you snickerdoodles and hot chocolate. I'm your valentine and you are mine because I love you.

my children, my sleepyheads, my beloveds. I love you.

[sleepyowlwrites]

I have a few writer friends that I a teensy bit stay away from their orbit because of I get to close I stay have new wip ideas and I don't want that. So like, for example, I tell @abalonetea and @avrablake I love them less often than I would if they didn't stir the wip pot too much.

[sleepyowlwrites]

it's missing them hours (the friends who live in my phone)

[sleepyowlwrites]

Happy Christmas Eve (or December 24th for whomstever this is a regular day for)

I want you guys to know and remember that your Sleepy Mom loves you very much, and wishes you great blessings to end out the year.

[sleepyowlwrites]

Look what came in the mail today!

I made more space on my shelf

The dust jacket is staying off, sorry

[bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove]

Personal Heater - T.Nott

Summary - Theo acts as his sleepy girlfriend's personal heater on the night before Christmas, much to the dislike of their friends and roommates.

Word Count - 609

Warnings - foul language, drinking, female reader, use of Y/N, brief mention of troubling family, (Let me know if I missed any!)

Author's Note - Welcome to day three! I'm hoping to stay caught up with my writing, the end of my semester is approaching so everything is kinda piling up on me. I'm trying my best!

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!

my masterlist

25 days of fics masterlist

Enjoy!

not my gif

not my gif

Spending Christmas at Hogwarts wasn’t all that bad. It was quite nice to wake up and not have the responsibility of acting civil with family that were never around or family that liked to cause problems. Theodore and most of his friends decided that they’d stay during Christmas break, the night before Christmas, the boys were all awake in the common room. Some of them were playing wizards chess and the others were just fooling around with the other boys. 

As it neared midnight, Y/N and Pansy had made their way to the common room with the rest of their friends. Pansy sitting between Blaise and Draco and Y/N making herself comfortable next to Theo. Once he got a good look at her, he knew right away that she had just woken up, her eyes were red and sleepy, her body was warm against his and her eyes were watering with how much she had been yawning.

“Lay down bellissima, you look tired,” Theo whispered in her ear, she looked up at him with a loving gaze. She took his offer willingly, kissing his cheek in return as she laid her head down on his shoulder and her legs over his lap.

“Thank you, Theo,” She whispered back, a drowsy tone laced in her voice. 

Within minutes, she had fallen back asleep, this time sleeping soundly in her boyfriend’s arms where she wished she was when she had fallen asleep earlier in the night. Crabbe decided that now was a great time to become obnoxiously loud for no reason at all. “Shut up you buffoon! If you wake her up I will not hesitate to kill you,” Theo threatened the boy, who immediately shut his mouth in fear.

“How dare anyone wake his bellissima! Oh it's blasphemous!” Pansy teased earning a deadly glare from the boy.

“Shut up Pans,” Y/N mumbled sleepily, snuggling herself closer to her boyfriend’s warmth. 

“Let’s go to bed before you fall asleep again,” Theo suggested before urging her up from the couch and leading her to his dorm. 

“Why are the dungeons so cold?” She whined, her feet freezing on the concrete of the dungeons despite the thick socks on her feet. 

“We are surrounded by concrete, amore mio. Of course it’s going to be cold.”

She rolled her eyes in a playful manner as she climbed into his bed. She was shivering at this point, her teeth chattering against each other. He climbed into bed with her, holding her body close to his. She slid her hands under his shirt to try and warm them, Theo wiggling away from them. “Salazar bellissima, your hands are so cold!” He shrieked in surprise. 

“And you’re so warm, Teddy! I can’t help myself, you’re like my own heater,” She told him. The two of them shared a laugh before letting out yawns. Neither of them remember falling asleep, only remembering sleepy laughter and getting woken up by a drunk Blaise and Draco as the sun began to rise. “What time is it, you heathens?” She asked her boyfriend’s drunk roommates.

“Like 6,” Blaise slurred out before collapsing on his bed. She looked to her boyfriend who had messy hair and droopy eyes. 

“Happy Christmas, Teddy,” She whispered to him.

“Happy Christmas, amore mio,” He whispered back before planting a kiss to her lips. He let out a hum as he pulled away, “Your lips are cold.”

“Maybe you could warm them for me?” She winked at him causing a chuckle from him and a collective groan from his roommates. In turn, Theo closed the curtains and took his girlfriend up on her suggestion.

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

9-1-1 Masterlist

Oh gee finally a place I can keep these! Thank you to my bestest most amazing friend in the whole world for making these headers for me i literally actually literally could not do it without you

Two of a kind

Buck can’t stop thinking about his coworker, so he does what every guy at 3am does on a 24 hour shift!! He sneaks out to his car to get off. But it turns out, certain coworkers (that might possibly be the love of his life) have the exact same idea!

Fairest of Them All:

The party downstairs rages on as Buck decides to do something about the pretty little thing he’s been staring at all night

Clothing Optional:

I can’t. I can’t keep writing summaries. I’ve done 2

After a stupid work shift, in the stupid heat, Buck just wants to enjoy a sweet little sundae, fortunately it comes with a side of dat ass (I’m not sorry)

That Should Be Me:

Buck has never ever been jealous ever a single damn day in his life

Gamer Girl

Buck thinks you’re so, so pretty. You’d looked even prettier with your thighs around his head

Now You See Me:

✨Mirror sex✨

Sleepy Hollow, 1999

Scream, 1996

The Exorcist, 1973

The Shining, 1990

Grease Lightning

The Polar Express, 2004

Growing Pains:

Everything is all wonderful and cool and dandy until you nearly die from your appendix!!

(I KNOW. THERE IS. AN AMBULANCE.)

Cry To Me:

Eddie loves when you’re crying during sex, nothing turns him on more… except when those tears are very very real and he’s very very worried

10 Things I Hate About You:

You guys freaking h a t e each other… or do you? Wink wink wink wink enemies to lovers wink

I Spy:

Eddie is the sweetest neighbor in the entire world… who knows where you work

Better Than Revenge:

You and Eddie get locked into a closet at your job after an accident, it also turns out your now EX boyfriend is a cheating asshole! Eddie has absolutely no problem filling in for the revenge role

Front Row:

Why do firehouses have to work f o r e v e r. Eddie needs a freaking shower and to pass out for the next six years on an overnight shift. It turns out someone has the same idea, and possibly another idea on how to left off some steam

Yeti Point:

Eddie finally takes you on that skiing vacation you’ve been begging him for and it’s going great! Until you get snowed in. But that’s okay, Eddie has a secret plan to keep you both warm

Slow and Steady:

Buck helps Eddie into the house, holding him up as you frantically get the bed ready for your injured boyfriend. Turns out, pain killers make Eddie horny!

(Hahahahahaha)

Encanto:

Dad!Eddie x Daughter!reader

Nightmares never get easier no matter how old you get. Especially ones where your father dies

Smoke Dector:

Eddie always has to be the hero, okay not really but it’s hard when you see your boyfriend running into a burning building for the first time

One Puff Or Two:

Take your freaking inhaler Eddie 🔪🔪🔪

Into The Fire:

(PTSD WARNING, PANIC ATTACK WARNING)

You’ve been on edge lately, and Eddie knows there’s something up. One night things come to a head when you have a nightmare about what happened and Eddie wakes up to a very bad situation

Night Changes:

Eddie comforts you after a bad nightmare about him dying over and over in different ways (based off of 5.14)

Busy Bees:

Two words ✨Sex Pollen✨

Soup or Salad?

✨I’ll freaking summarize this later✨

Sink or Swim

I Was Made For Lovin’ You

Halloween, 1978

It, 1990

Die Hard, 1988

A Rose by any Other Name

This is one of the funniest titles I've ever made up. Buck finds your simple collection of toys and shows them to Eddie... and now they want you to put on a little show for them

Finish Line:

A little game of "whoever cums first loses"

Twice Bitten:

Double Penetration from my kinktober list!

Alexander Hamilton:

Buck can't stop having feelings for Eddie's girlfriend... but what if that's okay?

Captured, With Love

[norizz-nation]

Pierre gasly smut with Leclerc!sister reader

Just imagine Charles is suspicious that his sister is seeing someone but he doesn’t know that it’s his childhood best friend is fucking his little sister.

Thats a great thought girl 🤌🏼

Craving each other 🩵

Summary: your brother, charles visited you after a long time and you forgot to hide the stuffs that belonged to your boyfriend, also your brother's best friend, pierre

Warnings: nsfw, 18+, slut shaming

It was a beautiful warm morning. You woke up by the feeling of pierre's arms around your waist as he snuggled his nose on the back of your neck. You smiled softly, your eyes still closed as you tried to get up. But pierre just wrapped his arms around your waist tightly, pushing his hips to meet yours. "Mm stay a little longer" he said with his sleepy voice.

You just smiled at him and rolled over so you were facing him. Legs tangled with each other. "But i have to get up. You know that baby" you said softly, caressing his face. "Please just 5 more minutes like this" he said, pouting his lips a little. You giggled and brushed his soft hair, kissing his forehead.

After cuddling and kissing for a while, you got up and went to the bathroom. You were watching tiktok while brushing your teeth and you rolled your eyes when you saw an incoming call from your brother, charles. You answered it after it rang 2 times. “Hey! Y/n where are you?” Your brother asked, sounding pretty excited. “Home” you said, sounding annoyed. “Well thats great because im coming to see you!” He said. Your heart started beating faster. “What- when?” You asked hoping he will say that after a long while or something. “Oh im almost 15 minutes away right now” your brother said and you immediately cut the call after saying a quick “okay”

Oh my god. What are you gonna do? Pierre is literally here. If charles finds out, he will kill pierre for dating his little sister.

You rushed back to your room as you clapped your hands to get pierre’s attention since he was half asleep. “Whats wrong love?” He asked. “Get up get up!” You said, hasting. As you collected all of pierre’s things and shoving it in his bag. “Why? What happened?” Pierre asked looking at you confusingly. “Charles is gonna be here. At any moment! Leave before he finds you here” you said as you continued to pack.

You let out a sigh, after finishing packing his bag. When you looked at pierre, you saw that he was still in bed. “Pierre get up! Im serious, you know charles better. You know how he will react” you said as you crossed your arms. Pierre just giggled and got up. Wearing his t-shirt as he came close to you. “Dont stress that much sweetheart” he said as he kissed your head and you closed your eyes, feeling soft in his touch.

“I’ll let you know when he leaves” you said as pierre looked down at you, adoring you so much that his face was screaming it. “Okay baby” he said as he left and you locked the door.

You rechecked the whole house again. Scanning every corner.

Nothing in the kitchen. Nothing in your bedroom. Nothing on the couch. Nothing.

You let out a relieved sigh as you waited for your brother to come home. You heard the bell ring and rushed to the door. “Hey charles!” You said as your smile grew bigger. He then hugged you tightly saying “oh i missed you so much” and you smiled softly. “Me too” you said as you closed the door. “I need to use the bathroom tho” he said as you chuckled. “Go! Dont ruin my floor” you said laughing.

“Y/n, why do you have men’s face wash in your bathroom?” Charles asked as your blood went cold. He then peaked his head out from your bathroom and looked at you, as you were sitting on the edge of the bed. “I uh bought it for you, since you were gonna come visit me” you said as you smiled nervously. “Then why is it half used, there’s only a bit left in there” he said as he showed you the face wash.

Fuck. Fuck!

You bit the inside of your cheeks as you gulped. You were about to say something but your brother cut you off. “Dont lie now. Youre dating someone, i get it” he said as you looked down on the ground. Trying to avoid eye contact.

The next few hours with him was pretty awkward. You were just hoping for him to leave. The only good thing is that he didn’t know it was pierre’s.

You let out a soft breath as you saw your brother walk away. You closed the door and stood there for a moment. Trying to feel less stressed. You then got your phone out of your pocket and went to pierre’s chat.

Come back home pierre, your best friend left.

You saw your text was immediately on read and closed your phone. You then took a nice bath and did your skincare. When pierre came home you felt all your stress go away. Your face lit up as soon as you saw him.

Dating pierre includes kisses and cuddles and fucking at any hour. You both craved for each other’s touch so much. There’s too many nights where you were on your knees for him. Taking him like a good girl. Filling your mouth with his cum. Swallowing it like a good girl.

“Charles was about to find out that im dating you” you said as you looked up at him. He smirked and brushed your hair, as he adored how you were on your knees right now. “Poor him” he said as his voice sounded deep. “Do you want me to take a photo of yours right now and show it to him? Show him whose little slut you are?” He asked smirking devilishly. You shook your head saying “no please” you pleaded as your cheeks went red from the temptation you were feeling. “Thats my good girl” he said patting your head. “Now lets see how well your pretty little mouth can take me” he said as he unzipped his pants and you already sticked your tongue out, smiling up at him with stars in your eyes.

A/N: requests are open! feel free to ask what you want me to write! luv you ❤️

[luvrgreyy]

CHERRY FLAVORED

childhood friend!leon x reader

wc: 1.6k summary: sweet and sour motivation, wish i could keep concentration. masterlist | taglist | ko-fi

no warnings. just alot of angst, mentions of marriage, cheating/infidelity, kissing. based on ‘cherry flavored’ by the neighborhood.

a/n: daddy’s home ;) super happy to be back, missed you guys so much mwaa! so i was actually working on this piece before i decided to take a break and i’m super happy i finally finished. but be warned, this doesn’t make any sense and i strongly encourage you to ignore the grammatical errors and my horrible writing. p.s. i swear the next part of ltts is almost done, just need to fix a few things and proofread (yes, this is for u @lottiies)

he had always liked cherries.

ever since you we’re kids, he would go out of his way just for those silly fruits.

you used to tease him about how much he loved them, but deep down, you enjoyed his enthusiasm too. he claims to remember how cherries were your favorite too, which is why he'd share his stash with you, and you'd pretend to savor each bite, even though they always made your face scrunch up in an exaggerated grimace.

you never really liked cherries. you found them too sticky, too sweet, but you had always made an effort for his sake.

the sticky fingers and cherry pits were all worth it though, just to see that slight, knowing smile on your face when you humored him. those small, secret moments were like little treasures he'd collect in his heart, each one more precious than the last.

he remembered the times when they'd steal a few from the farmer's market, giggling as the juice stained your fingers and lips. now, as adults, the habit remained. sometimes, on late summer mornings like these, he'd swing by your place with a bag of fresh cherries, a nostalgic smile on his face.

"hey," he'd say softly, as you opened the door to greet him, the sunlight catching the wisps of hair escaping your bun.

"thought you might like these. still got a sweet tooth, right?" he'd hand over the bag, watching as your expression transform from a sleepy haze to something short of appreciation.

“leon,” you rub your eyes begrudgingly, stepping aside as to let him in. “it’s like.. six in the morning. you can’t keep doing this,”

“i know, i know,” he chuckled, stepping into the dimly lit foyer, the overpowering scent of the fruit carrying over to you. "sorry, couldn’t help myself," he said with a shrug, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "old habits die hard, you know." he set the bag of cherries down on the entry table, the red fruit seeming to glow in the morning light that filtered through the front window.

“no, seriously.” you deflect, hands on your hips.

“you’re getting married next month, leon.”

he winced at the reminder, his free hand raking through his hair. "i know," he sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly.

his smile faltered slightly, the corners of his mouth dipping into a small, regretful frown. the cheerfulness draining from his features like water down a drain.

"can't wait." he forced a smile, but you were certain it looked more like grimace. "ada’s been planning everything for months... i’m just along for the ride at this point." he laughs awkwardly, trying to deflect the underlying tension in the air. but he trailed off, unsure of what to say next, the words sticking in his throat like a cherry pit.

he swallows hard, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. his eyes dart away from yours, unable to hold your gaze any longer. he fidgets with the strap of his bag, his knuckles turning white from the pressure.

“okay,” you try to ease the awkwardness. “do you.. wanna go sit on the porch? i can make us coffees,”

a small, relieved smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as he looks up at you, some of the tension dissipating from his frame. "coffee sounds great, thanks,"

he follows you to the kitchen, the silence between you thickening like a dense fog that clung to the trees outside. he’s perched on one of the bar stools, his long legs stretching out before him as he watched you move around the kitchen with practiced ease. the morning light highlighted the subtle lines of fatigue around your eyes, the tiny creases on your forehead, your shoulders hunched slightly in a gesture of quiet contemplation.

you hand him a steaming cup of coffee, the warmth of it seeping into your palms as you slid it across the counter. he took a sip, the flavor both bitter and sweet on his tongue. a small, contented sigh escaped him, his eyes closing briefly in appreciation.

“c’mon,” you tilt your head towards the door, and he’s quick to follow behind.

the morning air is crisp against his skin as he stepped outside, the chill of it seeping into his bones. he followed you to the porch steps, its wooden planks worn smooth with years of use. the world seemed to come alive in the golden glow of dawn, the leaves rustling in the gentle breeze and the smell of petrichor carried by the wind.

he sat down beside you, the cool wood biting into his thighs as he shifted to get comfortable. you were quiet for a moment, the only sound being the soft crunch of cherries as he munched on the fruit. his fingers stained a deep red from the juice, the color matching the rosy hue of your cheeks in the soft morning light.

"i— i know i shouldn't keep doing this, i'm not supposed to still have feelings for you." his words trailed off, lost in the gentle lapping of the breeze against the porch railing.

he took a deep breath, steeling himself. "but i do." he admitted, his voice trembling slightly. "i always have. and i probably always will,”

“leon,”

"you're still my best friend, you know? my person." he let out a short laugh, the sound a little shaky. “and—“

“leon.” you know what’s about to come next, and you don’t know if you can handle it.

“i love you.”

“i know.”

“i…” he lets out a strangled laugh, the bitterness of it written plainly across his features. “i’m sorry, don’t know why i’m like this,” he bowed his head, his elbows resting on his knees as he buried his face in his hands, his long fingers tangling in his hair. “i’m awful.”

“yeah,” you scoff, offering a pitiful smile. “yeah, you are.”

he laughed mirthlessly at your words, the sound raw and broken. “i know." he shook his head, his hair swishing against his wrists.

"never thought i was good for you, ‘ts why i stayed away for so long." he laughs bitterly, the sound hollow and empty. "i thought i could move on, forget about you.” he breathes, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his own inadequacies.

he turned to you, his eyes, normally a bright, warm blue, were dark and heavy-lidded, the rims a deep shade of red. "please," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the rustling of the leaves. "just one kiss. for the sake of what we could've been."

"please?” he repeated, his hands dropping to his knees, fingers curling like he wanted to crawl towards you and envelop you in his arms. your shoulders form something short of a shrug, your mouth dry, unable to respond.

he leaned in, hands coming to cup your cheeks, eyes closed, his lips pressed against yours in a soft, chaste press of mouth to mouth. he lingered for a moment, every fiber of his being silently begging you to reciprocate, praying that you'd meet him half way, that you'd kiss him back.

and for a moment, you really do think of doing so, to kiss back and feel him as more than a friend one last time. but you didn't. your lips were cold and unresponsive under his, your body stiff and unyielding. he taste of cherries and bitter regret that eventually seeps into your very core.

the warmth of his breath ghosted against your lips, lingering, yearning. he didn't move away, didn't pull back, just held himself there, suspended in the moment of his foolish hope. after what felt like an eternity, he broke the contact, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours.

"okay," he whispered, his voice small and defeated. "okay, i get it." he pulled back, sitting up straight and wiping his lips with the back of his hand, the ghost of your lips lingering there. "i shouldn't have..." he trailed off, unable to bring himself to finish the sentence.

“know what, i think i should go,” he stood up, his movements stiff and jerky, like a puppet with its strings cut.

“you should,” you swallow.

he nodded, not trusting himself to speak. his eyes downcast, feet shifting nervously on the porch steps. "yeah," he mumbles, voice barely audible. "yeah, probably for the best." he picks up his bag and turns to leave, but hesitates, his hand on the railing. he spares you one last glance, his eyes a deep, aching blue. you look down, not being able to bear the weight of his gaze.

he’s out of sight the next time you look back up.

he doesn’t call or text after that, his visits become infrequent, until he they stop completely.

the world didn't slow down for you, nor did it wait for your heart to catch up. everything seemed to keep spinning, the sun rising and setting, the seasons changing, though your feelings remained stagnant. you tell yourself its for the best, that moving on is inevitable. reality is cruel that way — it never delivers on the promises of our fantasies.

eventually, you’ll start to miss him a little less, the hollow ache in your chest slowly starting to dull. life will move on, and so will you.

though the thought of him would still occasionally cross your mind, it no longer feels like a stab to the chest, but a nostalgic memory from a bygone era. something that could’ve been.

maybe you did like cherries after all.

tags: @crowleyco

[viridescentelf]

Notre Dame

Stardew Valley Elliott x Female Farmer

Art belongs to @eindersein, please give them some love for this beautiful piece!

Hi! I wrote this, inspired by Paris' song, thinking Elliott and the farmer would definitely bond by exchanging ideas and reminiscing about their time in the city. I didn't really proof-read this all too well, I just really wanted a cute fluffy fic. I hope you enjoy!

Please also give the song a listen, it's beautiful!

-----

Elliott woke up from the sunlight warming his eyes. He had managed to make it into bed this time, an irregular occurrence as his constant back and neck pain proved. His desk usually served as his resting spot.

His long red hair tug under his arm, while he lifted his head, making him shift to free his tresses. Peering out into the beautiful afternoon light from outside, an immediate need to walk out and explore the sleepy town came over him.

Nowadays, there was a little more commotion than usual: the arrival of the mysterious farmer caused the villagers to stir, gossip and diverge from their routines just for a chance to meet her. Leah had already encountered the newcomer and expressed, a bit obviously, that Elliott would be very fond of her. He didn’t take his friend’s word for it, as she also assumed he would get along swimmingly with Shane. Despite having tried to greet him kindly many times, the downtrodden Joja Worker barely acknowledged him.

He would never admit it to Leah, but the writer was indeed curious. Mostly, because a new addition to an established town was the first time something interesting had happened here! It could be great inspiration for his novel. Maybe he’d write about a mysterious, retired detective, moving to a small town and causing the same ruckus as the farmer had in Stardew Valley.

Elliott brushed his mane, put on the clothes he wore every day and checked his reflection. Pocketing his trusty notebook, in case inspiration hit on the go, he stepped out on to the sunny beach and breathed in the crisp, November air.

The beach was mostly quiet, as it usually was in Fall. He saw Willy fishing absentmindedly on the deck, too absorbed in his own thoughts to notice Elliott had emerged from his shack. The writer saw him every day, it wouldn’t hurt to not speak for one of them. He wanted to enjoy the inspiring weather and take a trip into the forest a few miles away.

The redhaired writer crossed the stone bridge, waving at Lewis while he raked the fallen leaves in front of his house. He saw the grumbling Shane return to his aunt’s house after an early Joja Mart shift, but decided to leave him alone, walking a few measured steps behind him to avoid upsetting him further.

He passed Leah’s home, thinking briefly if he should stop by to say hello. Deciding he could do so on the way back, Elliott continued his stride into the beckoning woods. The number of leaves on the earth amplified the closer he got, the soft crunching under his brogues made him smile. He loved Fall. Not only due to it being his birthday season, but also because it provided a picture-esque setting for a romantic writer like himself. 

The trees started to clump closer together as he crossed the threshold into the forest. They swayed slightly in the cold breeze.

Elliott found a spot near a small babbling brooke, situated himself comfortably against a large tree and pulled out his notebook. He gazed up into the tree tops, watching the colorful leaves abandon their homes to fall down towards him. What a sight. He picked up a large, red maple leaf that drifted to his side, eyeing the vivacious color with adoration. Placing the pretty thing on his knee, the writer pulled out his trusty pen and started writing a few sentences.

The wind sang in his ear, as the hours passed. He collected interesting leaves that fell close to him, while he tapped the back of his pen onto the page. The words he was writing were alright, but not fascinating enough. There had to be something else here that would spark his roaring imaginatio-

“Oh- hey there!”

A soft voice pulled Elliott out of his writing trance. Looking up from his page, he met the eyes of a stranger. She wore a pair of hunter green dungarees, with a thick, white sweater underneath. Her sleeves were pulled up to her elbows, displaying strong forearms littered with fascinating tattoos. On top of her head rested a wide sun hat, that cast a long shadow down her front.

Elliott couldn’t help but blush at her shaded visage. It was the eyes that pulled him in, like mountain vistas painted by genius minds. She blinked.

“H-Hello!” he spat out hastily, as the pause between her kind greeting and him noticing her grew a bit too long. “You must be the farmer!”

She smiled and the writer’s inner voice squeaked at the sight of it. “Yup, that’s me! I’m YN.” She held out her hand.

Their palms met and he felt her callouses: “Elliott.” He realized he hadn’t returned her gentle smile and quickly remedied that by flashing his teeth. “I didn’t think anyone really came here. Apologies for my demeanor. I just wasn’t expecting to see anyone.”

“Oh no worries, I just discovered this place a few days ago. I wanted to take a break from work. Do you mind?” the farmer indicated that she wanted to join him, but stayed standing up.

“Yes!” the writer exclaimed excitedly. The excited answer obviously confused YN and he watched an eyebrow raise in response. Elliott noticed his mistake: “I mean- no I do not mind. Please.” He patted the spot next to him, clearing his throat in embarrassment. She smiled again, making his heart skip a few beats, and she joined him, placing a large guitar down into the grass. Elliott was surprised to see it appear out of nowhere, but he had to confess to himself that he hadn’t noticed anything other than her face and clothes when she arrived. She wrapped her arms around her knees, staring up into the dancing branches.

“So, Elliott…”, she began, “what’s your story?”

They sat for a while, exchanging their virgin journey to Stardew Valley. Elliott grew transfixed when he noticed she really listened to what he said. Did she... actually find what he said interesting?

She shared her decision to leave ZuZu city. “I hated my job. I felt like I was trapped and stowed away in that building. Like Quasimodo, haha!”

“That’s funny. That’s sort of how I felt back there. I couldn’t … let my head explore. It was so loud and disorienting being there. My mind seemed to emulate the chaos around me.”

“That’s such a poetic way of putting it.” She started plucking at the guitar strings while she stared up into the yellow crowns. Elliott didn’t answer. He saw little hearts float behind her head.

“I’m so curious what you’re writing! If you ever want someone to read over it, feel free to ask. I love stuff like that.”

Elliott nodded frantically; his heart felt a surge at the thought of her reading his drafts.

They sat beside each other in silence, but it wasn’t awkward. He felt extremely at ease near her, which ironically made him a bit uneasy. What was this sensation?

The longer they sat beside each other, the more consistent the melody became that she was plucking.

“How long have you been practicing music? I play the piano!” He wanted to learn as much as he could about her.

“Cool! I’ve been doing it since I can remember. But this guitar is new. I bought it right before Grandpa passed away. I love it, it’s so much easier to tune.” As she said that, she turned one of the dials to fix a string. “Maybe we can play together. Do you sing?”

Elliott giggled at the thought of him singing anything. He wasn’t awful, but you couldn't pay anyone to listen to him. He repeated the sentiment, feeling his face prickle when she chuckled.

“You're funny." His breath seized for a brief moment. "Well, then. I’ll sing and you can play? How does that sound?”

He couldn’t help but let the words tumble out: “We could write songs together.”

Her eyes started to glow. He felt a lump in his throat at the sight of her. He could’ve cried. He had a great relationship with Leah, the only other fellow artist in the village. She had a completely different artistic expression from him, though. It was fulfilling to know that more people would appreciate his way of thinking.

Elliott romanticized her already. He barely knew her, but felt sure they would grow closer, based on this exhilarating conversation.

She continued working out a melody, as Elliott eased into the tree trunk behind him again, listening intently as he jotted down a couple words her music inspired. She caught a glimpse of a few lines and giggled again:

“Did Quasimodo inspire you?”

“Haha, yes. You mentioning him made me think of being trapped up there. In the beautiful cathedral. Like you said you were at Joja. I'm a bit stuck though, don’t really know how to continue after tower.”

“Can I play around with what you wrote?” she asked with the cutest smile on her face.

Elliott felt his face blow up, he could tell he was a deep shade of red. “O-of course!!”

She nodded once, keeping the smile on her lips. She swayed, as she repeated the lines in a whispery tone while simultaneously strumming along. A few moments passed and Elliott couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. She closed her own, as she sang:

I'm in the rafters looking down

It's cold up here

Between walls of stone

I made my home

And the air hangs

Heavy with the incense

Feathers fall from pigeons

Cooing in the tower

I rarely go down there, the view's just so beautiful from here

And I can see everybody

At their worst points

At their worst points

I'm not a sadist, I enjoy just being able to be witness of the loneliness and be a higher power

In case there isn't one

In case there isn't one

I'm not a higher power, I just live in the ceiling 'cause I'm lonely on the fringes, and it gives my life some meaning

In the exile

In my exile

The grey light filters through roof slabs

And the flagstones glow

Bright from the stained glass

A hundred feet below

As I tiptoe

Creaking over prayers

Pleading with their maker

Crying with the choir

See upcoming pop shows

Get tickets for your favorite artists

I'm not immune to the sincerity below me

Makes me feel, it makes me holy, but through tears I understand

That I do not belong

No, I do not belong

Watching the figures, all the saints, but mostly sinners

Come and go and some are desperate, but the others have the sense that they do belong

And I do not belong

Some only turn towards the heavens when the end is feeling desperate,

have the overwhelming feeling

That there's nobody who's looking down

At least I'm looking down

Was this… what Shakespeare spoke about? The moment you meet your muse? The one?

Elliott had stars in his eyes as she finished her beautiful aria. When she looked at him, Elliott hurriedly clapped while she bashfully grinned.

“That was fun. You really inspired me,” she said sweetly. The writer could’ve wept at those words. Where had she been all his life?

She pushed herself up off of the ground and brushed the grass off of her legs. Had she noticed how transfixed he was? Was he making her nervous?

He tried to make his face look less in love. It wasn’t easy.

She turned to him and gazed down gently.

“I have to get back to my farm. The chickens need some love. But we should definitely play together. You down?”

Relief washed over his body. “Absolutely! I’d be honored!” Elliott felt some spit leave his mouth. He wanted to sink into the forest floor in embarrassment. She didn’t seem to notice, luckily, or perhaps she was just very polite.

“Cool! Where can I find you?”

“At the beach. The shack near the trees.”

“Awesome. I’ll stop by when I can! It was nice to meet you Elliott!”

The words left his lips in a sigh: "It was lovely meeting you, YN..."

YN winked, while she turned and walked back towards the forest entrance. Before she left through the branches, she raised her arm and waved at him.

He quickly waved back.

She disappeared behind the brush.

He felt like he had met God. Elliott fell back against the tree and started kicking his feet.

Finally, finally, finally.

Leah was right. He liked her.

A lot.

[chaimilkshake]

Pink Carnations - Worst Logan x reader

summary - Logan still thinks about the you from his universe, so what happens when he meets the you from this universe?

word count - 1.7k

warnings - none!

song - we’re in love by boygenius

a/n - this is much more my writing style, but still trying to figure out tumblr’s formatting so forgive me

The smell of freshly bloomed flowers and spring air filled Logan’s nose.

There you were, knelt in the garden, like always. Tending to your favorite flowers. Those pretty, pink carnations that came about every May, without fail.

A soft breeze pushed your hair back from your shoulders, revealing your face to him, as pretty as ever. He couldn’t do anything but stand there and stare. You looked so beautiful.

You turned your head as you noticed him, that familiar smile dawning upon your face, joy spreading to your eyes. “Hi, honey.”

The sweet sound of your voice rang through his ears, bringing a warm feeling to his chest. He let out a breath, finding himself unable to respond.

You sat back on your haunches, patting the dirt off your gloves. “Do you wanna help me?” You asked, gazing up at him.

“Logan?”

He couldn’t do anything but stare. Stare at your beautiful face, feel the spring breeze, smell the fresh flowers, hear your sweet voice.

“Logan, help me.”

Your voice adopted a concerned tone, looking at him now with panic in your eyes.

“Logan, help me! Logan!”

“Logan! Rise and shine, peanut!”

Wade’s voice shook Logan from his dream, causing him to come back to reality. The man stood over the couch, looking down at him.

“Good morning, sleepy head! Sleep well? I know I did. You’d think sleeping with an old blind woman would be disturbing, but she’s quite the cuddler,” the man went on as he rounded the couch, lifting Logan’s legs to sit down, allowing them to rest across his lap.

Logan pulled his legs away, sitting up with a sigh. He ran a hand over his face, convincing his conscious to come back to reality. “Slept fine,” he grumbled eventually.

“Great!” Wade said, patting Logan’s leg. “Then you’ll be ecstatic to know, it’s a very special day, my friend. You know Vanessa.”

Logan couldn’t help scoffing lightly at that. “Yes, I know Vanessa.”

“Well. It’s our anniversary. And I’m nothing if not a romantic. So, I’ve got an errand for you!”

Logan groaned, head leaning back against the couch. “I’m not running all around the city for you, asshole. She’s your girlfriend, you can do the heavy lifting.”

“Oh I will be. While I’m out on the town with my lovely lady friend, you will be back here, setting up for the after party.” Wade delivers a perfectly timed wink that says more than words had to.

Logan contemplates for a moment before sitting his head back up. “Fine.”

Wade gasped excitedly at that, clapping. “I knew you had it in you, Wolvie! I’ve already written you this lovely list of preparations.”

The man handed him a slip of paper, messily scribbled on, including doodles. The list read:

• Those tiny candles for mood setting ;)

• Wham! Make It Big CD

• Rose petal trail

Logan read over the list, having to squint a little to see the words correctly. The items seemed easy enough, and it gave him something to do with his day. “When do you need these?” He asked, watching Wade get up from the couch.

“ASAP, babycakes! But preferably by 5 PM, sharp!” He explained as he sauntered back down the hallway to their bathroom for a shower.

Logan grumbled at that, tossing the list on the coffee table for the time being. He had some time to go back to sleep for a bit.

It was around three o’clock, and Logan was almost done with Wade’s stupid errands. He’d collected the candles and the CD (after checking three different music stores), and now all that was left was the rose petals.

He’d heard about this local florist just by the apartment that was cheaper than any grocery store, and had incredibly good quality flowers. So, on his way back, Logan stopped for the rose petals.

He stepped in, welcomed by a shop with white tile floors and light green walls. Plants stood in every corner of the place, and a pleasant aroma hung in the air. It wasn’t until he saw you that everything clicked in place.

“Hi, welcome in! How can I help you?”

The familiar sound of your voice stuck in his head, his feet glued in their spot. Of course there’d be another you. This was another universe, after all. And you worked at a flower shop. Every piece of the puzzle was snapping together.

“Do you think we’re together in every universe?” You asked, cuddled into his side one cold, winter night. The fireplace was warm, but he was warmer. He wrapped an arm around you as you tucked into him.

He chuckled at your words. “I think that’s an interesting idea.”

“Promise me that we are? That you’d find me, in the next and the next?”

“I promise, my love.”

He had been standing and staring for a good minute now, and you were clearly getting creeped out.

“Uh, sir? Is there something I can help you with?” You asked again, leaning against the front counter.

Logan cleared his throat, looking down to the counter to avoid your gaze. “Yes, sorry. Do you, uh, do you guys sell rose petals? Or just roses I can take the petals off of?”

You hummed at that, nodding and moving to your display of roses. “Of course. We have red, white, pink, yell-“

“Red is fine.”

You stopped abruptly when he interrupted you, watching him for a second before nodding. “Alright. I can take those petals off for you and package them up. Wouldn’t want you to end up with a thorn in your thumb,” you hum as you pick a couple roses up from the bin.

Logan watches as you pluck each petal off the flower carefully, creating a pile. You always worked with such precision. That much hasn’t changed.

He took the pack of rose petals, fishing out his wallet. “How much?”

“That’d be $7.” You say, plugging it into the computer.

“That’s it?” Logan says before he can stop himself, looking up at you. He shook his head, pulling out a 20 and handing it over. “Keep the change.”

You looked between the 20 and him, shaking your head. “No, sir, I couldn’t possibly-“

“Please,” he pleaded, letting out a defeated sigh. “Just take it.”

You hesitate another second before taking the 20 from him and making the change. “Thank you…”

He nods, quickly exiting the shop before you could say anything else. He trekked back to the apartment, bags gripped tightly in his hands.

When he got home, Al was in the middle of leaving.

“I may be blind, but ain’t deaf. I sure as hell won’t be sticking around there for when they come home,” she protested as she walked towards the elevator.

Logan watched her go, sighing as he let himself in. His interaction with you was still lingering in his mind. It had never really occurred to him that there would be another you here. He still wasn’t really sure what to do about it, if anything.

Once it turned 4:30, Logan set up everything. Trailing the rose petals into Wade’s room, setting and lighting the candles, and putting the CD into the player.

As soon as he was done, he also set out for the night. He had no idea where he was going to go, but he would figure it out.

He wandered for a while, past bars and restaurants and clubs. But none of them appealed to him. Being around a bunch of young people, desperate for some kind of escape from their everyday lives didn’t sound appealing to him.

Soon, he found a smaller bar restaurant with a much calmer atmosphere. As he walked in, he was able to seat himself at the bar, immediately ordering a drink.

You were out to drink with a couple friends you hadn’t seen in a while when you saw him. The man who gave you the $13 tip earlier. Of course, it wasn’t much, but as a tip? Probably the biggest one you’ve received.

“I’ll be right back,” you say to your friends, taking your glass and sliding into the seat next to the man. “Hey,” you say, smiling over at him.

The older man looked up, face going white as soon as he saw you, as if he’d seen a ghost.

“I just wanted to thank you for the tip. You’ve bought me…about two drinks,” you joke, raising your glass slightly. “That was very generous of you.”

The man cleared his throat, looking back down at his own drink and nodding. “Don’t mention it,” he grumbled.

You hesitated, but continued. “I haven’t been able to go out with friends for a while. Haven’t had the money. But here I am,” you explain. Something about the man drew you in. You weren’t sure what, but he was…comfortable.

The man hummed, downing the rest of his drink while you watched. “I never caught your name,” you say, not backing off, despite him being uninterested.

“Logan,” he let out, finally moving to face you now.

“Logan,” you repeated, smiling. “It’s nice to meet you.”

As the night progressed, the two of you talked and talked. After the last call, you decided the conversation couldn’t end. “Walk me home?” You ask, sliding your jacket over your outfit.

“Course,” Logan assured you, holding the door open as you left the bar.

“So. You’re a florist,” he says, sliding his hands in his pockets while you walk.

“How’d you know?” You tease, smiling up at him.

He chuckled, looking down at his feet. Likely the first time that night you’d seen him laugh. “Do you have a favorite flower?” He asks, and you can tell he held his breath while he waited for the answer.

“Probably pink carnations,” you reply easily.

Although, nothing about the way Logan received that information was easy. In his world, he had let you down. Betrayed you to the highest degree. While the woman standing beside him was you, it wasn’t you. He knew he could never save you, but this was his chance to keep his promise.

In every universe.