#write it out and tape it to your wall and read it every night before bed and every morning because you are worth so much more than this

[em1989ts]

𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒏

ghostface! steve harrington x reader x ghostface! eddie munson

word count: 2.7k

summary: after a long night of slasher tapes you'd picked up from family video, you get a couple eery phone calls, leading to a frightening break in from two masked figures.

warnings: strong language, knife, suggestive content, honestly i might just make a part two of this where it's just smut cause i totally set it up

author's note: i'm so back in my steve harrington era so here's the fic i've been wanting to write for like two years now

~

It was a windy Saturday night in the middle of October, 1986. You heard your house creak with every chilly gust that hit its walls. It was getting colder and colder in Hawkins. 

You were laying on your side on the couch, wearing an old pair of plaid pajama bottoms and a loose fitting t-shirt, with a throw blanket covering you from your shoulders to the tips of your toes. The light from the television set illuminated your face as you stared intently at the screen, rewatching Friday the 13th for the hundredth time. A stack of tapes you’d picked up today from Family Video adorned the coffee table in front of you as you reached the end of your horror marathon. 

It had been a few days since your parents had left for their business trip, leaving you as their free-of-charge housesitter. As they were heading out the door, they had given you a firm set of rules: 

Lock the doors and don’t leave the house at night. 

You didn’t exactly have the most exciting nightlife so that rule was easy to agree to. Lazy horror marathons were your favorite activity this time of year. You had already carved two jack o’lanterns and placed them on your front steps, one displaying a toothy grin whilst the other grimaced with a fangy frown. You had toasted the pumpkin seeds as a snack but those were gone halfway through A Nightmare on Elm Street which you had seen previously in the night. 

As you lay sideways on the cushion of the couch, your eyes drooped with exhaustion. You unraveled yourself from the blanket and sat up to turn your head to read the analog clock on your wall which let you know it was now one thirty in the morning. A dark blur quickly entered your vision as you looked out the window behind the television. The streetlights lit the quiet neighborhood as leaves blew down the road, nothing else in sight. Although you could’ve sworn you’d seen a coyote or something.

Deciding to call it a night, you stand up to shut the television off but you didn’t see the remote anywhere. Sticking your hand between the cushions, you felt around for the plastic device yet it wasn’t there. You picked up the bundled blanket and shook it around which caused the remote to fall to the floor and under the couch. Tipping your head back in annoyance, you signed and crouched down, getting on your knees and sticking your arm under the couch to fish for the remote. After a few seconds, your hand felt the warm remote and pulled your arm back and as you were still on your knees, you leaned against the couch and pressed the power button on the remote. As the screen faded to black, you stood back up, placed the remote down on the coffee table, folded the blanket neatly and placed it on the couch.

The living room was dark except for the warm lighting that peaked through from the connecting kitchen. You walked across the cold tiled floor with your warm wool socks to make yourself a cup of tea before heading up to bed. Placing a small kettle of water onto the stove, you turned around to reach for the cupboard handle as a sharp ringing gave you a fright. 

You jumped and turned around quickly, although you already knew the noise had come from the yellow telephone hanging from the wall. 

Who could be calling at this hour? 

You picked up the phone and immediately put it back down to stop the ringing. Whoever it was could wait until the morning. Maybe it was just Nancy asking about an assignment due this week, surely she could ask you in homeroom on Monday. 

Turning back around, you went over to the cupboard and pulled two bags of chamomile tea from a box then went over to the cabinet that held glassware as you grabbed a mug you made freshman year in art class. You picked it out specifically for its orange and red glaze, matching the autumn foliage. 

The mug in your hands almost went crashing to the floor as another ring from the telephone reverberated through the kitchen. You tightened your grip after the initial scare and placed the mug gently on the countertop as you went over to pick up the phone. 

Two calls in a row, this must be urgent. 

You weren’t exactly thrilled to have to converse with someone at this time of night but if this was an emergency then you’d have felt awful for ignoring it. You picked up the phone and leaned against the wall.

“Hello?” you asked into the speaker by your chin.

“Hello, sweetheart,” a low voice snickered into your ear. 

You furrowed your brows in confusion. What kind of joke was this? 

“Why are you calling so late?” You were too tired to be playing any games.

“Why are you answering so late?” The voice worried you. It didn’t even sound real, yet the lack of a serious tone made you feel like this phone call could have waited till morning. 

You could hear the kettle of boiling water start to whistle as you started to lose your patience. 

“Listen, I don’t know who you are or what you want but I really don’t care,” you said into the phone, hanging it up back onto the wall as you turned to the kettle to take it off the stove to pour it into your mug. 

As you ripped the tea packets open to begin steeping your chamomile, the phone rang once more. In your mind, the ringing almost sounded more aggressive than the last two times it rang. 

You dropped your tea bags into the mug as you stomped your way to the phone as you ripped it off the wall and held it by the side of your face.

“What the fuck do you-” you started angrily into the phone before you were abruptly cut off. 

“I’ll tell you exactly what we want, sweetheart. Once we get you.” 

“What?” You said into the receiver. Your shoulders slumped with fear as your heart rate quickened. That was not the response that you were expecting. 

You looked towards your front door. You had remembered to lock it right? No, of course you remembered. You double-checked it. Triple-checked it. 

Then why was it cracked open? 

And who was that figure visible through the fogged glass? 

“You might want to run,” The voice suggested. 

Abandoning your tea, you dropped the phone, letting it hit the wall and swing by its curly cord. 

You didn’t know where to run, you were frozen. How could they be calling you from your front door? Who was this person and what were they after? Were they going to hurt you?

As you quickly tried to come up with any plan for evacuation, you heard a creak coming from the door. You looked over to see the figure reach out a gloved hand and grasp the edge of the door, slowly opening it until it was wide enough for them to step in. 

You now saw them in full. A tall, black-cloaked figure wearing a white mask with drooping eyes and a long, open mouth stepped in and stood staring at you. Not making any advances, but not looking friendly either. 

That mask.

Shielding the identity of the intruder, the horrified ghastly expression perfectly reflected the way you felt as your heart sank into your stomach.

Your flight instinct finally kicked in as you skidded down the hallway trying to get away. Since the invader was blocking you from exiting through the front door, you could try to run out the back door, or possibly a window if you had no other choice. 

As you quickly turned the corner at the end of the hallway that led to your dining room which had a door to the back porch, the tall figure suddenly appeared in front of you as you crashed into their chest. The wool socks on your feet caused you to lose your balance and crash land onto the wooden floor in front of them. Your head ached as it smacked against the hard planks. As you regained vision and remembered your situation, you dizzily lifted yourself up enough to lean on your elbows as you looked up at the figure who was now standing menacingly above you. The hallway was dark except for the small nightlight which illuminated the horrific expression displayed on the mask which mocked your lower position.

Before you could scramble away towards the other end of the hallway, the harsh force of a boot stomping down on your hair caused a yelp to escape your lips. Your scalp was on fire from the pain as you looked up with teary eyes to see a duplicate of the masked figure. 

A glint of silver caught your eye as a blade was slowly brought into your line of sight. It made your heart sink further. A blade that was spotless and clean, which meant they either took great enough care to properly clean up after themselves or it had never been used, meaning it was just for show. 

The scuffed leather boot was lifted from your hair which released the sharp tension on your scalp, yet your head still throbbed with pain. Your vision was blurry and your heart continued to beat rapidly and unevenly, causing you to worry whether you could stay conscious to fight for your life. 

The figure with both hands free lifted you up off the ground, grabbing you by your upper arms, and standing you up on your feet. The neck of your tee shirt slipped off your shoulder as you tussled, revealing the skinny strap of your bralette across your shoulder. They turned your body forcefully to have you face their companion as they pressed their chest against you, pinning your left arm behind your back whilst wrapping a bicep around your neck tight enough to keep you in place. 

A gasp left your lips as their muscles closed you in. Your right hand was free which you used to try and pry their arm away from your throat enough to allow you to inhale without a struggle. The mask in front of you stared down at you, inching closer, almost mocking your pathetic position. When the arm would budge, you brought your hand out to rip that smug mask off, you couldn’t take that look any longer. A rough, gloved hand wrapped around your wrist to stop you from revealing their face but it was too late. Your fingers wrapped around the long chin and as their reflexes snatched your hand away, the mask went along with it. 

Steve. Fucking. Harrington. 

Was this a fucking joke? 

His brown eyes gazed into yours with a dark look yet he wore a smile that would forever taunt you. He leaned in closer till his face was inches from yours. 

“Gotcha.”

Your eyebrows scrunched in utter confusion before your expression turned to one of annoyance and anger. You couldn’t believe this. You tried thrashing around in the arms of the unknown accomplice before you remembered your legs were free and started kicking. His face turned impatient as he pulled his hood off, the unknown figure moved their bicep from around your neck and let your arm free from behind your back, only to hold both of your arms to your sides and wrap their own around you. 

You were seething, “What the fuck is wrong with you, Harrington? Do you seriously think this is funny?” 

“Oh definitely, but don’t give me all the credit,” he chuckled as he looked over your head and winked to whoever was holding you in place, giving the okay to unmask. 

An arm left from its place around your torso as it was lifted to remove the ghost mask, revealing Eddie Munson, who placed his grinning face on your shoulder. 

You were disgusted. Why did they even think it was okay to do this, even as a joke? You could have gotten seriously hurt, the cops could have gotten involved. If your parents found out they did this you’d never be allowed to be left home alone overnight ever again, even though you followed their rules perfectly. It was now two in the morning and you were two tired to deal with their antics any longer. 

You knew Steve and Eddie had been getting closer recently, courtesy of Dustin trying to get his two older male friends to bond, which clearly might now have been a good idea. They were both whispering with each other over the counter yesterday when you went to Family Video for your movie night. You had been friends with the both of them individually for a while now but you’d never thought they would pull this shit on you. 

You sighed and tilted your head back, pursing your lips in annoyance as you tried to pick the right words to gently parent them from the angry scoldings in your mind. 

“Okay, you got me,” you said in the most unamused tone you could muster, “Guys, this really isn’t funny. I don’t know what made you think it was okay to do this to me but you can both go home now.” 

You tried to escape Eddie’s hold but he only held on tighter, before nuzzling his face into your neck. Sure, Eddie was very comfortable around his friends, but this was new. 

“We can’t go now, sweetheart. The fun was just getting started,” he mumbled into your neck. 

“What?” you said quietly, confused at what he meant. 

Steve quickly brought the knife up to your face, causing you to flinch and lean your neck further into Eddie, prompting him to lightly bite. 

He traced the silver, curved blade across the silky skin along your chin as he peered down at you with a look that made you shrink. 

“We came here to scare you,” he said darkly, “hoping to get a little more than a laugh.” 

You looked up at him, cautiously aware of your slight movements as to not knick yourself with the edge of the blade. You’d never have thought either Steve or Eddie would think of you like that, yet you couldn’t say you’d never thought of them. 

Eddie removed his face from your neck as he matched Steve’s persuasive look. 

“Come on, sweetheart, you feeling something other than fear? Maybe a heartbeat somewhere else?” He joked with a dark laugh, his hands going lower as you scoffed. 

There was no way you were considering this. Breaking into your home, the frightening phone calls, the knife, the slasher costumes. It was just too ridiculous. 

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t intrigued, weren’t enjoying the attention. The knife on your face with just enough pressure, daring to draw blood, was a thrill you weren’t used to but you weren’t opposed to it either.

Biting your lip as you consulted with your pride, the boys watched you with anticipation and a growing need. 

You lightly laughed at yourself, entertaining the idea, as you gave them a look and nodded. Eddie smirked widely, placing his mask back on before he threw you over his shoulder, Steve following suit. 

They made their way back into the living room before Eddie roughly tossed your body down onto the couch. As you landed, you looked up at the two masked men who stood tall, staring down at you which was quite intimidating but you definitely weren’t as mad as you were five minutes ago. 

In fact, you were looking forward to continuing your slasher marathon, even if it was a little different than what you had in mind. 

~

author's note: i'm finishing this up right before i go to sleep so it's not editing so please ignore any grammar/spelling mistakes lol i tried to get this out as soon as possible, thank you for reading!! hope you enjoyed!! comments/notes/reblogs are soooo appreciated

[wadewnstonwilson]

quiet times;

summary: Logan often goes on walks to clear his head, while Wade secretly prepares for his return, leaving humorous, heartfelt notes around the apartment. Wade’s chaotic personality draws Logan out of his solitude, and Logan’s calm demeanor gives Wade a safe space to unwind.

word count: 1k.

Logan and Wade weren’t the type of people who made sense together—not on paper, not in theory, and definitely not in the kind of world where people paired off neatly into couples with picket fences and matching dishware. They were jagged, broken pieces, barely held together by sheer stubbornness and a touch of gallows humor. If their lives had been puzzles, they wouldn’t have had matching edges. And yet, when they came together, somehow it just… worked.

Logan was all gruff stability. He didn’t say much—never had—but his presence was grounding in a way that cut through the noise in Wade’s head. When Wade’s mind spiraled, spinning up into a chaotic whirlwind of hyperactive thoughts and relentless energy, Logan had a way of pulling him back down to earth without even trying. Sometimes, it was the way he looked at Wade—calm, steady, and utterly unfazed by his antics. Other times, it was his voice, that low rumble that could somehow be both a growl and a reassurance.

“Easy, Wade,” his words a quiet tether as Wade ranted or rambled or paced the room for the fifth time in an hour. And somehow, it worked. Wade would slow down, his shoulders relaxing as he let himself lean into the stability Logan offered. He didn’t like admitting it—hell, he’d rather die than admit it—but he needed Logan more than he cared to acknowledge.

Wade, on the other hand, was chaos personified. He was loud and brash, throwing himself into every moment like he had something to prove. He dragged Logan into his world of ridiculous antics and inappropriate jokes, poking at his brooding exterior until he got the reaction he wanted. He had a knack for breaking through Logan’s walls, his humor chipping away at the darkness Logan carried like a second skin.

“Hey, Claws,” Wade said, leaning over the back of the couch with a grin that promised trouble. “When are you gonna quit brooding and join the land of the living? You’re like if Eeyore fucked a lumberjack and made a baby that didn’t understand how to smile.”

Logan would grunt, shooting him a look that was equal parts exasperation and amusement. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re in love with me,” Wade would shoot back without missing a beat, winking at him before flopping onto the couch. Logan never denied it, and Wade always took that as a victory.

They both had their coping mechanisms, their ways of handling the shit they’d been through. Logan, when the weight of his past got too heavy, would disappear for hours, going on long walks to clear his head. Wade, of course, couldn’t let him do that without giving him hell first.

“Where you off to, Logie Bear?” He'd call after Logan as he grabbed his jacket. “Gonna go write sad poetry about your feelings? Maybe find a secluded cliff to brood on like the world’s most depressing Disney prince?”

But the second Logan was out the door, Wade would start prepping for his return. He wasn’t the sentimental type—or so he told himself—but he had a habit of making sure the place was ready for Logan when he got back. He’d order Logan’s favorite food, grumbling about how much he hated the smell of it. He’d set out a bottle of whiskey with two glasses, because he knew Logan wouldn’t drink alone. And sometimes, he’d leave little notes for him to find, scrawled in his messy handwriting and taped to random objects around the apartment.

One night, after a particularly rough mission, Logan came back to find a note taped to the door. In Wade’s handwriting, it read: “Miss you, stabby hubby. Don’t get eaten by bears, but if you do, make sure you take one down with you. Gotta keep the Wolverine rep alive.” There was a crude drawing of Wade punching a bear in the face at the bottom, complete with exaggerated muscles and a speech bubble that read, “Take that, Smokey!”

Logan shook his head, a low chuckle escaping him as he pulled the note off the door and tucked it into his pocket. He wouldn’t admit it—hell, he’d rather stab himself with his own claws—but he kept every single one of those notes. They were ridiculous, sure, but they were also… Wade’s. And that made them worth more than anything else he owned.

Inside, he found another note taped to the bottle of whiskey on the counter. This one read: “Cheers to my favorite emo lumberjack. Try not to brood too hard tonight. You’re only allowed two grunts and one sigh. Any more than that, and I’m coming over to kick your ass.”

He poured himself a glass, smirking as he muttered, “You’re a pain in my ass, Wade.”

Right on cue, the door burst open, and Wade strolled in like he owned the place. “Miss me, claws?” he said, grabbing the glass Logan had just poured for him and downing it in one go. “Damn, that’s good. You’ve got taste, I’ll give you that.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” Wade shot back, flopping onto the couch with all the grace of a drunk octopus. He sprawled out, his legs thrown over the armrest as he glanced back at Logan with a smirk. “Come on, babe. Sit your broody ass down and tell me all about your sad-boy walk. Did you find enlightenment? Meet a wise old turtle who taught you the meaning of life?”

Logan sighed, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips as he joined Wade on the couch. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, but I’m your idiot,” Wade said, sticking his tongue out at him before grabbing the whiskey bottle and pouring himself another glass.

They sat there, side by side, the silence between them easy and comfortable. Wade didn’t push him to talk, and Logan didn’t try to fix him. They just… existed together, two broken pieces that somehow fit.

At one point, Wade reached into his pocket and pulled out another note, tossing it into Logan’s lap. “Here. For your collection.”

Logan unfolded it, his eyes scanning the messy handwriting: “Love ya, asshole. Don’t go getting all soft on me.”

He looked up at Wade, his expression softening despite himself. “You’re impossible.”

Wade grinned, leaning back with his arms stretched out across the couch. “Yeah, but you love it.”

Logan didn’t respond, but the small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth was all the confirmation Wade needed.

[lostbetweenvampiresandmusic]

Would it possible if you can write a Lost boys(poly if your comfy with it) with a Carrie!Reader (2013 ver) who like, is bullied severely at school, crappy parents and discovers they have telekinesis. they run into the lost boys on the boardwalk, hangs out with them and stuff? But they don’t tell them the bullying or anything about their home life because reasons(make some up if you want lol) or their powers until they run into their bullies in a empty part of the beach and they terrorize them and they snap? And the boys watch and fall in love and kick their feet and twirl their hair? David wants them to turn now even more (falling in love aside) because ✨Power✨ Dwayne wants them because ✨Safety✨ Paul wants them to turn because ✨Sexy✨ and Marko because ✨Crazy✨. Basically their dream girl who is as soft as silk but a lil fucked up?🥺🥺🥺

Also how’s your day been? How you living? You drink water today?

Hi! Yes, this would absolutely be possible! First off, I have to say, I am so sorry for the incredibly long wait. I was busy with work (multiple jobs and only 7 days a week aren't an easy thing to combine with free time), and I prioritised finishing Changes. But now that Changes is finished and all the chapters are written, I finally have time for this request because I've read this several times now and I just think it is so much fun! Anyway, I hope you'll forgive me for not writing this sooner and that you like what I've written! Have a nice day/night/holidays!💜

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

The alley was silent. Three bodies laid on the ground, blood splattered everywhere from the ground to the walls on both sides. One body, a female no older than twenty, came without a head. Or at least, it used to have a head, but what was left of it was barely recognisable as such. There were two male bodies, one twisted and turned as if it were moulded in clay, the other drained as if all liquid inside the body spontaneously decided to evaporate.

Needless to say, it was a mess.

I stood between those three bodies, not knowing what to do. In all honesty, I was still not entirely sure about what happened. One second, they began to call me names - again, like they always did - and the second I felt my anger flare up and poof - there they were gone. Dead. I shook my head as I stared at the blood, unable to keep a single tear from falling down my face.

I blinked, a small frown on my forehead. I was terrified. Not of what scene laid before me, but because of what had happened. I had done this, and I didn't know how. I had killed them, somehow.

"That's quite a mess."

I jumped, turning around. My heart was beating in my throat as I saw David, Marko, Paul, and Dwayne standing behind me. I frowned slightly. It was the closed off side of the alley, so if they'd walked past me, I would have noticed it, right?

"We flew," was Dwaynes answer to my questioning look. I nodded, remembering how they'd told me what they were a while ago.

I had known the boys for quite some time now, running into them once while they were in the videostore. Marko had just grabbed the tape I wanted, talking - well, there's no other way to put it - shit about it. When I had asked for the tape, he had refused to give it to me, instead opting to give me a better alternative. He had been right. Where I had initially wanted to see a B movie called Zombies from Mars, he had given me Return of the Living Dead. It was awesome. The next night, I searched for them on the boardwalk to thank him for the suggestion, and they invited me to hang out with them. Ever since I did so, every night, whenever I could. I told them everything, I was closer to them than anyone else I knew. Well, everything - i couldn't help but chew the inside of my cheek. I had never told them about being bullied. It felt silly when I hung out with them. It was silly when I could deal with it. It was calling names, being pushed into the showers, locked inside rooms, and losing my lunch sometimes - it could have been worse. Some other kids in school were bullied worse, and they didn't complain, so why would I?

"What happened here?" Paul asked as he looked at the bodies.

"I don't know," I said quietly, my voice weaker than I'd liked, "I got angry and then they were just like that."

"They bothered you?" Marko gave me a pointed look, and I knew that I had no choice but to be truthful now.

"They bullied me."

"Bullied? Why did you never say anything?"

"I don't know," I shrugged, not looking at Marko, "it felt silly, and I could handle it."

"Yeah, that much is obvious," David answered, a sly grin on his face. "Has this ever happened before?"

I shook my head. "It scares me. I just killed three people and didn't even notice it."

"Just a regular night for us, am I right?" Paul chuckled, earning himself some glares. "Sure, it's a shock that it happened, but honestly, Babe," he grinned, "it is kind of hot."

"I killed someone, Paul."

"So? We do too."

"And you're certain you've never done anything like this before?" Marko asked, and once again, I shook my head.

"If you can do this without practice..."

"Practice? This was an accident, I don't even know how it happened or -"

I stopped when I felt myself panic, and slowly but surely, I saw the droplets of blood rising from the ground, floating in the air. I stared at it with wide eyes. "Am I doing this?"

"Yeah," Dwayne appeared behind me, taking my hand in his. "Calm down, alright? You're fine, and you're going to stay fine."

"I don't understand..."

"You're telekinetic," Marko grinned, "you could burn this whole town to the ground if you wanted without lifting a single finger."

"I- I don't think I want that?"

"But you could!"

I couldn't help but smile a watery smile at that. "Why are you four not freaked out?"

"Vampire." Was all David said as he looked at me. "Which you could still become, the offers still up."

"I don't know..."

"As a vampire it would be easier to control your powers."

"And we'd be able to keep you safer if they get out of control."

I sighed, looking between David and Dwayne, not knowing what to do.

"But what if I loose control and hurt you? Any of you?"

"You won't," Marko answered, "besides, I never shied away from a bit of pain."

I blushed, shaking my head. "You're incorrigible."

"You know it," he grinned. "You should go home, well clean this up for you."

"I- i can't really go back home, my parents, they are eh-"

"I meant the cave."

"What?" I frowned, looking at Marko and then at Paul and the others.

"You'll live with us," Paul said simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"You're one of us," David said, his voice holding more kindness than I'd heard before, "so come with us."

I smiled softly, nodding as I let David and Dwayne lead me away from the crime scene. Paul and Marko stayed behind, cleaning up the bodies and the blood, neither of them minding the sight of it.

"Pretty damn cool, this power of theirs," Marko grinned, as he swept some brain matter off the wall.

"Definitely. Makes you wonder what else they could do with this gift," he chuckled with a smirk, causing Marko to roll his eyes.

[nightmare-writes]

Succubus Soulmate pt.2

Wanda x Succubus!Reader

Hello everyone! Long time no see. I apologize for the unintended hiatus, life got in the way of me writing on here. I found this sitting in my drafts and I felt like some of you might have wanted to read it. I can’t guarantee that I will write another part of this soon, but if enough people want to see it I can write a part 3. Anyway! I hope you enjoy.

Warnings: masturbation (Wanda) it’s mostly very fluffy and domestic otherwise.

Summary: Your first few days on earth!

You stared at Wanda as she sat huddled up against her wall for a moment or so. You’d never been in this kind of position. You’re used to having some sleeze bag summon you, use you for two minutes, and then go straight back to the underworld while said sleeze bag knocks out in his post nut bliss. With this being your usual, you had no clue what you should do in this situation.

Eventually you fell asleep curled up on the couch with Wanda sitting awkwardly right next to you.

The more Wanda sat there, the more she started to think over logistics. What was she meant to do when she goes into work tomorrow? She couldn’t call out sick so she would have to leave you alone for a few hours. She couldn’t trust that you wouldn’t try to do anything silly while she was away, so she got to ‘succubus proofing’ her apartment.

She didn’t have any baby locks for cabinets so she assumed duct tape would have to do for now. She duct taped all of her cabinets shut, along with the fridge doors, the oven, the microwave, and anything she thought you could get into. She duct taped the cabinet in her bathroom with all her cleaning supplies in it and then went around to every window to duct tape the locks so you couldn’t access them. It felt like she had just gotten a new, untrained, puppy that she needed to ensure wouldn’t accidentally kill itself by drinking bleach thinking it was milk. It took her a few hours but she felt like she had successfully ‘succubus proofed’ her home. She rewarded herself by going to her bed and passing out for the night.

It felt like the moment Wanda closed her eyes, she had to open them back up. Her blaring alarm clock gave her no reprieve as it woke her up. She shut it off before getting ready for work as she usually did.

When she got out to the living room, she saw you were still curled up and resting. She felt a bit guilty as she gently shook you awake, but she needed to talk with you before she went off to work.

You groaned as the movement of your body got you out of your dreamland and forced you back into reality. Rubbing your sleepy eyes, you looked up to Wanda and mumbled “Mornin” almost too quiet for her to hear. She had to admit that you did look cute all sleepy, but she couldn’t be distracted from the task at hand.

“Look, I have to go to work so I’m gonna lay down a few ground rules for when I’m gone.” She says firmly while crouching down to be at eye level with you. “You’re not allowed to leave apartment unless it is burning down or someone broke in.” She starts and you interrupt by saying “If it was burning down I’d stay right where I am, I finally wouldn’t be freezing to death. Do you like living in an ice block?” which garners you an eye roll from the red head. “Second rule, don’t touch any of my things unless it is this remote or-“ she says while looking around for something for you to eat. She spots the cheerios she had set out and decided that that would be a sufficient food source for you before she could go grocery shopping. She scampers over to grab the box from the kitchen along with a water bottle before returning to your side and placing the box and bottle on the coffee table. “- this cereal and this water, got it?” She added. “What if I don’t like the way it tastes?” You ask while poking at the box.

“Well it’s just for now, I’ll be back with more food for you. What do you even eat?”

“Souls of the damned” you say with a straight face before laughing at the disgusted and slightly horrified expression on Wanda’s face. “I usually just eat meat, but now that I’m stuck as this flesh sack I guess I’d eat whatever humans would.”

“Okay, noted.” She says while looking around to see if she needed to say anything else. “You can watch whatever you want on the tv, I have a few streaming apps if you wanna look through those too.” She says and you look at her like she was speaking a whole other language. “What the fuck is a tv.” You deadpan and Wanda thinks you’re joking again until she realizes that you’re serious. “What did you think the remote was for?” She asks and you simply say “A vibrator”

Wanda couldn’t help but laugh while saying “Why in the world would I give you just the remote to a vibrator?” You shrug as Wanda sits down next to you and explains the wonders of the television to you. When she turns it on, you were absolutely terrified at first. You yelped and hid behind her while she giggled at your antics. “It’s not going to kill you, here let me show you how it works.” She says softly while gently coaxing you out of hiding. She didn’t want to put on anything scary since she didn’t want you to think it was real, so she went to her disney+ account and put on some kids show that her coworkers kids absolutely loved. “You can watch this while I’m gone, okay?” She says while gesturing to the colorful dogs that were dancing on the screen. The moment your eyes hit the screen, you were entranced by what you were seeing. You didn’t look away from it as you nodded.

Wanda gave you a small pat on the head before setting the box of cheerios next to you so you’d actually remember that they were there. She moved her hands in front of your eyes when you didn’t turn to look at her and you immediately swatted her hand away so you could continue to watch. She just giggled to herself before saying “Have fun, I’ll be back soon.” and heading off to the office.

You quickly learned that your first favorite thing on earth was a show called Bluey. You’re second favorite thing were the delicious crunchy circles that Wanda gave you. You had devoured the entire box of cereal after about 10 or so episodes of bluey and you wanted more. You figured out how to pause the funny dogs on the television so you could go find more crunchy circles.

Your quest begins in the place where Wanda brought the box from in the first place, the kitchen. You were greeted by a collection of places where the sugary treat could be, but when you tried to open up one of the cabinets it was stopped by something. You let out a low growl at the offending silver strip before your short nails grew into fierce claws that tore through it. The first cabinet you opened was filled with random white disks. You grabbed one and tried taking a bite to see if it was tasty like your crunchy circles, but it didn’t break in between your teeth so you gave up on it.

You spent a few more minutes tearing through all the tape in the kitchen and looking for snacks. You eventually stumble upon a heavy bag that was easy to rip open. It was filled to the brim with tiny white crystals that looked edible, so you gave it a lick. You were instantly hooked. It tasted so yummy, kind of like the crunchy circles but this time it was just the sweet tasting part.

You returned back to the couch so you could keep watching the silly dogs while licking your delicious new treat.

———————————————————

Wanda was thankfully able to get off of work early and was able to convince her supervisor to let her work from home for a few days by giving some excuse about having to take care of some relatives child while they were in the hospital for a bit.

She returns home to see you, still sitting on the couch watching the show she put on earlier, but now you were eating something that was definitely not cheerios. “Hey, what are you- are you eating my sugar?!” She exclaims while taking the half eaten bag away from you. You whine and try to take it back from her but she hold it up above her so you couldn’t reach. “How did you even get this?” She questions while shutting the tv off. “I wanted more of this but there wasn’t any in the tiny compartments in the food room so I found that and ate it.” You say while picking up the box of cereal and holding it up. Wanda’s gaze moves over to the kitchen to see all the ripped up duct tape. She sighs and says “I’ll get you more cheerios, okay? No eating just sugar, it’s bad for you.” before giving you a reprimanding bop on your head. She almost changes her mind when she sees the adorable pout on your face, but she stays strong. You give in with a small nod while mumbling “No more… I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, you’ll do better next time.” She says softly while sitting down next to you and hesitantly rubbing your back. You let out a soft purring sound before leaning against Wanda’s side. “More bluey.” you say while pointing to the television. She just chuckles to herself while switching the show back on. “We have to work on your manners, a please would be appreciated.” She says half jokingly.

————————————————————

After you went to sleep, Wanda went about making preparations for the next day. She went back and decided to hide the sugar bag somewhere else in the kitchen. She also put back another layer of duct tape just in case you got any ideas of stealing again.

She went on a late night trip to the supermarket to get a few boxes of cheerios for you and some general groceries since she was running low on practically everything. While she was browsing, she noticed a cute pair of pink mittens and got an idea to stop you from tearing through the duct tape again.

When she got home, she put the groceries away before making her way to her bedroom to make a few modifications to your new mittens. With a bit of ribbon and a lock for each hand, she successfully made a way to keep your hands locked in place. Was it a little evil? Maybe, but you did break a rule that she explicitly said… and the thought of you needing her to do everything for you was too tempting to pass up. She imagined your cute pout as you looked up at her and begged for her to hand feed you your cereal, or having to help you drink your water, or having to beg her to touch you since you couldn’t touch yourself…

Her mind began to wander towards the delicious sounds you would make. Would you whimper and whine while not using your words or would you be begging for more the entire time? Would you be quiet or loud just for her? These questions were burning her mind and sending a certain undeniable heat to her core. As she laid on her bed, her hand slowly crept down her stomach and into the waistband of her panties. She was soaked just from her little fantasy of you. She was desperate to feel your soft, supple skin under her fingers. She wants to squeeze and mark every inch of her body for herself. Her fingers make feather light touches around her clit before slowly speeding up. She was doing it just the way she liked it, but it didn’t feel right.

It didn’t feel right cause you weren’t the one touching her.

While she wanted to keep going, she knew she wasn’t going to get anywhere. She pulled her hand out and inspected her fingers that were dripping in her arousal. Her thoughts immediately went to you sucking her fingers clean before she shoves them down your throat so you’d gag on them.

“Get yourself together, Wanda” she muttered quietly to herself while rubbing her face. To stop herself from getting too carried away, Wanda forced herself into the bathroom to take a cold shower and then straight to bed.

——

“You want me to wear what?” You questioned while pointing towards the offending objects in Wanda’s grasp. “I told you not to touch anything and you did it anyway. So until I can trust you enough with your own hands, you’ll be wearing these.” She says while showing you the pretty pink mittens she made for you. You knew she was getting a kick out of this. A part of her wanted to humiliate you and that was clear from the way she was trying not to smile or the way her hands were slightly shaking. The tell tale sign though was the distinct scent of arousal wafting off of her. You knew she had no clue that your sense of smell was leagues above her own, but what she didn’t know didn’t matter. What did matter is that Wanda was starting to express her sexual interests, while indirectly, with you. You felt some weird sense of pride that she was maybe more of a pervert than you thought.

You sighed and held your hands out for her. “Alright, get ‘em on me.” You acquiesce and almost instantly Wanda gets your hands into fists so she could fasten the mitts. When they were both padlocked, you couldn’t stretch your fingers out so it was impossible for you to rip them. “Happy?” You say while waving your imprisoned fists up towards her. “Very” Wanda states before getting the next episode of Bluey on for you. “I’m going to be in the other room doing some work, you stay here and watch your show. I’ll come back in an hour for lunch.” She explains while going to the kitchen and returning with a bowl of cheerios for you. She sets the bowl on the couch next to you before giving you a small pat to the head. “No trouble while I’m working.” She reminds you before going off to work in her room.

——

You could tell that the redhead was distancing herself from you. Whenever she could, she would work in another room than you. She would come check up on you occasionally to make sure you had food and that you were drinking water since “Humans need to drink water to survive.” While it was odd, you did enjoy being doted on even if it was for a few moments. You could tell Wanda was enjoying herself too, but she was too nervous to fully let herself go.

After the fifth time of noticing Wanda checking on you from her bedrooms doorway, you decided to put matters into your own hands. You fiddled with the remote to turn it off before tip toeing over to Wanda’s room. You give it a soft knock and ask “Can I come in? I’m bored.”

You could sense the hesitation from the other side of the door. Wanda was anxious to have a real conversation with you. It was safe to keep your conversation to a bare minimum. The sokovian couldn’t imagine the things she’d admit if she spoke to you for longer than five minutes. However, she had to rip the bandaid off. She couldn’t just leave you to waste away in front of her tv all day. “You may.” Wanda pipes up and you fumble with the door handle until it opens up. “Stupid cloth hands.” You whisper while glaring down at the pristinely pink fabric that was still tightly locked around your hands. “You can sit on the bed if you’d like.” You barely heard Wanda when she said it. You didn’t want to tease her about her nerves since it was easy to tell it might’ve made things worse. You sat down on the edge of the bed closest to her, bouncing a bit on the springy surface. Wanda didn’t look away from her laptop and continued to type away at it as she sat next to you. You scooted closer to her until your cheek rested against her shoulder. You looked over her laptop screen to see a collection of tabs open while Wanda’s cursor was frantically switching between all of them. Her logic was that if she could overstimulate her eyes then she wouldn’t have to think about how close you were to her.

“What are you doing?” You ask while nodding towards the chaos unfolding on the screen in front of you.

“Working.”

“Working?”

“Mhm, this is what humans do for money.”

“What’re you doing to the screen?”

“Important technological stuff. You wouldn’t get it.”

“It doesn’t look that hard, you’re just looking at different pictures.” You point out while putting one of your mitts to the screen.

She sighs when she realizes she’s been caught before closing her laptop. “You got me, you’re more clever than I thought.” Wanda praises you before giving your hair a quick ruffle. You lean into the touch before Wanda could pull her hand away which leads to her giving you a few soft pets. “Now why did you come in here? I thought you’d want to sit and watch your show.” She asks while slowly moving her hand away from you. You whine quietly as she does and Wanda has to resist the urge to play with your hair. “I told you I was bored. I wanna do something.” You reiterated while turning your gaze up towards Wanda’s face. She sits there for a moment thinking about what she could do with you since she was also rather bored. “Why don’t we watch a different show together? I’ll make you a new snack to try.” She suggests and you eagerly nod your head at her idea.

——

“Here, try this. It’s called popcorn.” Wanda says while sitting next to you with a bowl filled to the brim with a new treat for you. You examine this ‘popcorn’ and after giving it a few sniffs you decide that it was good enough to eat. You try to pick up a few pieces but your mitted fisted could barely do anything. Wanda noticed your struggle and giggles to herself. You could tell that she wanted you to ask for help since she was too nervous to offer it herself. “Can you help me eat this?” You ask the redhead and you immediately notice a spark of an idea in those bright green eyes of hers. “You have to ask me nicely if you want help.” She says smugly while watching your face to see if she might’ve stepped over the line. You groan but give into her. “Can you help me eat this popcorn… please?” You ask again and she happily takes a few pieces in her hand and up towards your mouth for you to start snacking. Your face lights up as you’re hit with a completely new taste. “More! Please- I want more popcorn.” You blurt out before opening up your mouth slightly as Wanda feeds you some more popcorn.

——

Wanda soon put on one of her favorite shows, Malcom in the middle, for the two of you to watch as she contributed to feed you. You could feel Wanda’s tension start to ease as more episodes went by. She hasn’t had anyone to watch shows with in forever. It’s always been something she did with her family, but since she moved countries that was near impossible now. It felt blissfully domestic, which was something that Wanda didn’t know she wanted until now.

After some time, you fell asleep curled up next to Wanda as the show continued on in the background. Wanda wasn’t paying any attention to it though, her sole focus was on you.

I hope you all enjoyed! Leave a comment if you want to see this story continue.

[peppymintdreams]

Sakuverse Daycare: Thanksgiving Celebration

Hello my children this is peppy (pre break) I just want to say happy thanksgiving to all whom celebrate the holiday I’m extremely grateful for all of you, with the love and support you give to me for simply writing I wish you all a happy holiday and I will see you all soon

-Mama Peppy

The daycare room was buzzing with excitement, filled with crayon-colored turkeys and paper leaves taped to the walls. A big "Happy Thanksgiving!" banner hung lopsided over the snack table, where the smell of mashed potatoes, stuffing, and pumpkin pie made little noses twitch in anticipation.

In the middle of it all, a kid-sized table stood ready, with brightly colored plates and plastic forks. Each chair had a wobbly nametag written in messy crayon. At the head of the table sat Xanthus, who somehow always ended up in charge, even though he never asked to be.

Elias was already squirming in his seat, his legs swinging wildly under the table. His eyes kept darting to the cookies on the counter. He had a plan. A very sneaky, not-at-all-obvious plan to get one before everyone else.

“Do we have to do the thankful thing?” Elias groaned loudly, flopping forward onto the table like a very dramatic starfish. “Can’t we just eat already?”

Across the table, Isaac adjusted his tiny glasses with a sigh that was far too grown-up for a four-year-old. “Yes, we have to. It’s a tradition, Elias.” He said tradition like it was the most important word in the whole wide world.

“But it’s so boring,” Elias whined, flopping his arms for extra effect.

Andrew, sitting perfectly still beside Isaac, crossed his arms. “You can sit still for two minutes, Elias. You’re not gonna die.”

“I might!” Elias shot back, sitting up and clutching his chest. “Two whole minutes! That’s like…forever!”

Luca, at the far end of the table, giggled softly into his stuffed bunny’s ear. He liked watching Elias be silly. It made the room feel a little brighter.

The teacher clapped her hands. “Alright, kiddos! Let’s go around and share what we’re thankful for before we eat.” She gave Elias a pointed look. “Then we can have cookies.”

Elias perked up instantly. “Cookies?” His eyes sparkled with renewed energy. “Okay! I’ll go first!”

He didn’t even think for long. “I’m thankful for… recess! And cookies! And not having to take naps anymore!” He grinned, clearly proud of himself.

Andrew rolled his eyes. “Very important stuff.”

Elias stuck his tongue out. “It is!”

Isaac went next. He sat up straight, his hands folded neatly in front of him. “I’m thankful for books. And for my mom. She reads with me every night.” His voice got quieter when he mentioned his mom, and he glanced at Andrew, who nodded like he understood.

Andrew’s turn came, and he didn’t need any time to think. “I’m thankful for quiet. And… organizing things.” He paused, sneaking a look at Isaac. “And friends who help me with puzzles.”

Elias leaned over to Luca, whispering loudly, “He means Isaac.”

Luca giggled again, squeezing his bunny tighter.

When it was Luca’s turn, he looked down at his bunny, then up at everyone else. His cheeks turned pink. “I’m thankful for… Bunny. And… everyone being nice.” His voice was soft, but everyone heard him.

Elias reached over and patted Luca’s arm. “We’re thankful for you, Luca. Especially when you share your snacks.”

Luca smiled shyly, his heart feeling warm like his favorite blanket.

Finally, it was Xanthus’ turn. The table got quiet as everyone waited. Xanthus didn’t speak right away. He sat with his hands folded, staring at the ceiling like he was thinking about something way bigger than Thanksgiving.

“I’m thankful for… stars,” he said finally. His voice was quiet, but everyone listened. “Because they stay up there, even when you can’t see them.”

Everyone was quiet again, even Elias, who looked like he was actually thinking for once.

Then Elias broke the silence. “Stars are cool,” he said, tilting his head. “But cookies are cooler.”

Everyone burst into giggles, and the serious moment disappeared like bubbles popping.

The feast began, and little hands grabbed for mashed potatoes, stuffing, and cranberry sauce. Elias stacked his plate as high as he could, sneaking a cookie when he thought no one was looking. Isaac carefully scooped small amounts of everything, making sure none of his food touched. Andrew cut his turkey into perfect, tiny squares, like a little grown-up.

Luca took small bites, occasionally offering his bunny a pretend piece of pie.

Halfway through the meal, Elias leaned over to Xanthus. “Hey. Do you really think stars are better than cookies?”

Xanthus didn’t even blink. “Yes.”

Elias gasped like Xanthus had said something completely outrageous. “No way! Cookies are way better. You can’t eat stars!”

Andrew smirked. “You have no taste, Elias.”

“I have great taste!” Elias said, stuffing a cookie in his mouth for proof. “See? Delicious!”

Luca giggled so hard he almost dropped his bunny. Isaac shook his head, a tiny smile on his face.

As the teacher brought out pumpkin pie, Elias reached for the biggest slice before anyone else could. “Thanksgiving is the best,” he declared, crumbs already on his face.

Isaac looked around the table, Andrew sitting quietly, Luca hugging Bunny, and Xanthus watching the group with that faraway look.

“Yeah,” Isaac said softly. “It really is.”

Xanthus looked up at the ceiling, thinking about stars and cookies and friends, he thought, Maybe it’s not just the stars that stay. Maybe it’s friends too.

[blurbios]

Starstruck [rockstar! reader x tomura shigaraki]

cw: obsession(?), cursing

other: fem! reader, modern (quirkless) au, format is a bit funky bc i didn’t intend it to reach this length

wc: 3k

synopsis: tomura didn’t plan on falling for the frontwoman of some band he’s never heard of before, but once he saw you something changed. 

✦ Tomura’s favorite band was in town and he wanted to have a good view of the stage, so he made sure to queue up early. Like most people, he was solely going for the headliners, without any real knowledge of the openers. 

✦ When doors finally opened, he managed to snag a spot close to center barricade. He was already annoyed at how close everyone was to him and he knew it would only get worse as the night went on. 

✦ The first openers went on and they didn’t catch his eye nor did they distract him from the bodies pressed against him. Their music felt too generic for his taste and the band members were dressed like every other person in the venue. Once they finished their set, he pulled out his phone to check how many songs the next band would be doing. He read that they would do anywhere from 5-8 songs depending on the night and he impatiently drummed his hands on the barricade and let out a sigh. 

✦ The crowd cheered as each member walked onto stage and he clapped along half-heartedly. That was until his eyes fell on you as you strutted out on stage towards the mic with your guitar in hand. He felt his chest swell with excitement as you introduced your band to the crowd. He took note of your name and watched eagerly as you began to play. 

✦ A couple songs in and everyone and everything else in the room disappeared in his eyes. All the bodies pressed against him faded, the murmurs of the strangers beside him were drowned out. Hell, even the other members on stage weren’t there to him. He was simply hooked on you, he found your presence alone intoxicating. 

✦ Tomura was so focused on you that he hadn’t noticed how he excitedly clapped his hands at the end of each song or how loud he yelled when you hit your high notes. You took note of him and made sure to flash him a smile. He felt his own smile on his face as he cheered you on. You sang some lines as you looked at him and again he felt something in him, a tinge in his chest. 

✦He had been to tons of shows in the past, but never had he gained so much interest so quickly. Maybe it was the way you carried yourself with such confidence or the way your eyes closed when you sang, clearly giving it all you had, or maybe it was the way the stage lighting hit you perfectly. Tomura couldn’t quite place it, but he wasn’t complaining. He was happy to have his eyes glued to such a beautiful girl like you, especially when you interacted with him so much. You made him feel special, and in his eyes, he was. It didn’t take that long before he was convincing himself that you thought the same things about him. 

✦ Before he knew it, you were announcing your last song and he frowned. You saw this happen in real-time and even gave him your own little pout and mouthed a little “I’m sorry.” 

✦ You were used to crowds writing you off as an opener and not really caring. You were also used to people who knew all the words by heart. The silver haired boy stood front row lay in a weird grey area. You could tell he didn’t know the words, yet you could hear him above all else. You wanted to win him over and unbeknownst to you, you already had. 

✦ You were sweaty and tired as you told the crowd that you’d be at the merch table after the show. You made sure to make eye contact to hopefully coax him to come by after, you saw his eyes light up as you did so. You and your band mates thanked the crowd. You pulled up the setlist that had been taped by your mic stand and saw a wall of hands fly up when you held it above your head. You watched as your bandmates tossed their setlists and picks into the crowd, but you already knew who you were giving yours to. 

✦ You walked to the edge of the stage and stretched your arm as far as you could to give it to your biggest supporter of the night. You thanked him with your hands over your heart and a little bow. You saw him smile and nod at you as he held the setlist in his hands. You walked off stage waving at the other attendees with your smile shining bright, head held high. 

✦ He held it in his hands astonished that you handed it to him. Most times artists just crumple it and throw it to someone, but you made the effort to come over to him. The way you smiled at him made his head spin, he looked at the paper in his hands and saw that it had kiss marks on it. The shade matched the lipstick you had been wearing and he assured himself that it was a sign. 

✦ The energy in the crowd grew as the minutes until the headliners came on stage edged closer to zero. Tomura’s energy grew as the minutes until he would get to see you dwindled down. He heard the first chords of their opening song start and immediately perked up. He had waited all day for this and he couldn’t believe it was happening. But, whenever there was a pause in between songs he found that he couldn’t keep focus on the band on stage. He loved their music, but he felt something different when it came to you. He zoned in and out when the music would play through the speakers, bass booming through his body. He jumped around and sang, he was having the time of his life. 

✦ When the band announced they were on their last song, Tomura froze. He felt a jolt of electricity through his body, he was nervous because the set ending meant he would meet you soon after, he wasn’t ready. He shook himself out of his head and lost himself in the music once more. 

✦ The drummer had thrown and drumstick into the crowd and Tomura ended up catching. When he turned to make his way out of the pit, his eyes fell on a young kid. He overheard the kid’s brother say something along the lines of “next time you’ll get it, buddy.” So without any hesitation he tapped the kid on the shoulder and extended the stick to him. The kid turned and squealed excitedly. “What are you supposed to say?” The brother chirped. “Th-thank you!” Tomura smiled at the two boys and went about making his way to you. 

✦ Most people would’ve kept it for themselves, but Tomura had a soft spot for kids at gigs. Reminded him of when he was young and all he wanted to do was go to shows. Plus, he already had the setlist from you and as far as he was concerned that was better than a drumstick from a drummer he didn’t even know the name of. 

✦ He saw the line at the merch table and his heart sank, no way you’d stay that long. He wasn’t going to give up though, but he figured he had enough time to fix himself up a bit. He wormed his way through the crowd and slipped into the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror and shook his head in disbelief. He combed his hands through his shaggy hair and tried to make himself presentable. He took off his hoodie and wiped the sweat from his body best he could. He took a deep breath before returning to the line, which was even longer now. 

✦ You looked at the line in between meeting people and signing things. You were amazed the line was this long, usually you were lucky if there was a handful or two waiting for you guys. Your members were visibly tired and they could tell most people only wanted to meet you anyways. You heard them mutter something amongst themselves as you posed for photos. One of them settled behind the merch table to take over sales, whilst the others walked off to help move the stage equipment to the trailer. 

✦ Shortly after, a worker from the venue came over to and said you had to pack up and get out of the venue. You looked at the people in line and frowned. You walked over to the merch table and told your fellow bandmate what the worker said. “What about these people?” You said. They proceeded to stand on the table and shout to the line that you’d be finishing the meet and greet in the parking lot since security was kicking you out. 

✦ Tomura heard what they had said and checked his phone for the time, it was already past midnight. His phone wasn’t even halfway in his pocket before a security guard came up to him and ushered him out. He looked at you waving to the line and smiled to himself. When he neared the doors he felt the cold air and quickly pulled his hoodie over his head. 

✦ He thought about the weather and how cold it was. He was hit with a wave of guilt, you would be waiting in the cold because of him. He saw the line form near the back of the venue and contemplated just walking to the subway station. He realized how silly it would be to leave after waiting this long and he had himself convinced that you’d be upset if you didn’t get to meet him. 

✦ You put on a jacket, but felt it ruined your outfit. You dug through your suitcase and found a flannel, you figured it was better than nothing and its colors matched your fit well. You walked out and saw the line, it was significantly shorter than it had been, but you didn’t blame them for going home. Your eyes trailed down the line and at the end you saw him, the boy that had looked up at you with such adulation during your set. You smiled and waved at him and he waved back sheepishly. 

✦ Tomura’s cheeks flushed when you waved at him, he was hoping that he could just play it off as the cold when he spoke to you. His hands felt tingly and his stomach was doing flips. With each step he took, the reality set in more and more. You were right there mere meters away from him. He saw how you smiled with the others and brought them in for hugs. He heard your laugh and nearly fell to his knees. He couldn’t believe how pretty it was. Your voice grew louder as he was the next person, and the last person, in line. He completely froze up as your kind eyes met his, he was starstruck. 

✦ You waved goodbye to the girl whose album you’d just signed then turned your attention to him. You smiled in his direction and opened your arms for him. He didn’t move and you pouted. “Come on, I don’t bite.” You tried to lighten the mood and cocked your head. 

✦ Slowly he walked into your embrace and wrapped his arms around you. Your warmth felt so comforting that he let the hug linger for a couple seconds before breaking it off. He mustered up all the courage he could to speak. “You were amazing tonight.” You held your head high and smiled before thanking him. “I’m glad you think so…” You trailed off trying to get his name. 

✦ “Tomura. Sorry, I should’ve led with that. I’m Tomura.” He looked at the ground when he spoke, hands shoved in his hoodie pocket, nervously twiddling his thumbs. “Well it’s nice to meet you Tomura, I’m y/n. Thank you so much for waiting, I know it’s cold.” You could see redness on his cheeks and felt bad for the poor boy. 

✦ “I’m sorry for keeping you out in it.” Tomura was beating himself up mentally. “Don’t worry about it, being with you is enough to warm my heart.” You tried not to cringe at your words, but you figured artists said things like that all the time. This time his face went red and you could tell it wasn’t from the cold this time. You let out a little laugh and he felt the warmth in his chest return. 

✦ Your words just affirmed his delusions. He took his hands out of his pockets and reached them out to you. To his pleasant surprise, you took his hands in yours. He was ecstatic that he didn’t have to ask, it’s like you knew what he wanted. “y/n, I’m so glad that we got to meet. Next time you tour, I’ll make sure to come cheer you on.” He spoke whilst holding eye contact this time and saw your doe eyes staring back at him. 

✦ His hands were warm as they held yours, you didn’t want to let go of the warmth. You took in his words and were touched. “Thank you, it means the world to me. I feel so lucky that I have someone like you.” You meant a supporter like him, but to Tomura it meant that you were lucky to have him in your life period. His thoughts began to spiral, but he held his tongue hoping you would continue and you did. “I’ve got to get going so we can make it to the next city on time. I look forward to seeing you again. Next time we come through, I’ll make sure to look for you, Tomur.” You gave his hands a slight squeeze before letting go. 

✦ Hearing his name fall from your lips felt heavenly. He was so drunk off the feeling that he hadn’t realized you let go of him, his hands still hovered empty in the air. Once he felt the cold, he was brought back into the moment. “Thank you for taking this time to be with me.” He opened his arms for a hug goodbye and you stepped into his arms. His eyes shut and he took in the moment. The way your hair smelled, the warmth of you against his body, your little hums of whatever song was stuck in your head. He was assured he was in heaven.  

✦ Again, he was sucked back into reality when the cold returned in your absence. You took a couple steps back and waved. “Get home safe!” You said with a smile. He waved back and nodded before turning about-face and heading towards the street. 

✦ You knocked on the van door before opening it. “God, you took so long with that guy. You think he’s cute or something?” One of your members said as you climbed in. You hadn’t really thought about it, you took a second to process it. He had red eyes that you’ve never seen before, his hair was fluffy, bangs were cute, he was visibly nervous, and he had that little mole under his lip. “Maybe.” You wondered if he would actually show up at your next gig in the city. You had heard it so many times before, part of you hoped it would be different this time. You couldn’t tell if it was because you wanted a fan to stay for once or if what you really wanted was to see Tomura again. 

✦ He sat on the subway and swiped through the videos and pictures of you he had taken. He was still in awe of you. He admired your lyrics, loved the passion you emitted when you performed, and the sound of your laugh made him feel something he hadn’t felt before. But most of all, he was enamored by the way you looked at him. The way you smiled at him as you sang, the way you scanned the crowd to find him with the setlist in your hands. The little look of excitement when you saw him in line. The way your face seemingly lit up when you spoke his name. Your words played on repeat in his head. 

✦ When he got home he couldn’t help, despite how tired he was, but hop on his pc and look you up. He saw that your band’s instagram had already posted crowd photos of the night, he clicked through and stopped when he saw one with him in it. A photographer had caught the moment you handed him the setlist. Immediately he set it as his desktop photo, tracing your image with a finger on his monitor. He pulled out his phone and checked your instagram. A smile grew on his lips as he saw you had posted that picture on your story. He took note that you had drawn a heart over the photo, you drew one on the center of the photo, right where he just so happened to be. 

✦ He felt a tinge in his chest, it felt nice to have his feelings validated. He opened up your band’s website and made sure to buy all your merch, he streamed all your music and promoted you however he could. He loved you and as far as he was convinced you loved him too. He opened up a ticketing app to see if he could get a ticket to another stop of the tour to see you. He frowned when he saw that every stop was sold out. 

✦ He pulled up the tour poster to see which date was the last one you were doing then headed to a reseller site. He didn’t care about the price, he was seeing you again. Once he confirmed his purchase he created a countdown on his desktop. Tomura leaned back and it hit him how tired he was. He didn’t even bother to shower, partially because of the aforementioned tiredness, but mostly because he wanted your fragrance to stay on him as long as possible. Tomura settled into bed and thought about the two of you together, hoping it would help him dream of you.

a/n: PLEASE LMK WHAT YOU THINK OF THIS BC I CANT TELL IF ITS CORNY OR NOT BC ITS LIKE ONE OF MY CHILDREN okay sorry for yelling,, depending on how this is received i have an idea for a follow up <3 this was supposed to get posted a month ago but uni ate my ass before i could edit lmao but we are back in business baybee !

[small-sinclair]

Hi! I love your writing and I had an idea

So, imagine Bo x reader where they get into an argument. (It's over something stupid, they were both mad for different reasons and it just happens) or something like that and then No goes to his shop to find that his S/O organized all his tools and labeled the drawers?

(I like organizing when I'm stressed so this is very self projection)

Thank you for reading my request and I hope you have a great day/night,

PhantomCat 💜

I feel this. I clean like a mad man durning a mental breakdown.

Anyways,

The Organizer

Bo x gn!reader

After a 3 hour fight, you storm out of the house, living Bo to his own anger.

Honestly, he thought that was it: you’re leaving him. And that made him more pissed.

Bo comes to his shop after destroying the garage by the house. Maybe fixing a car would help him?

As he enters, he’s shocked to see a neatly cleaned front area. Magazine’s organized by size and thickness, chairs from cleanest to dirtiest, floor swept and May cleaned, and register polished.

In the shop, Bo sees you by the lose screw box and bolts, your hands moving items into piles.

In front of you, he sees the wall of tools in different sizes, thicknesses, and usages.

Then he saw the drawers, they’re closed. He’s never seen them closed before! Labels and lists of tools outside on tape…

Then he sees in the center side a polaroid selfie of him kissing your cheek. You’re smiling in that one.

On the white under the photo, it reads in a dark blue:

“Forever Yours❤️”

Bo couldn’t help but blush. You were so mad that you cleaned his shop and organized his shop.

He leans against the shop and asked, “Ya ain’t mad at me now, are ya, darlin’?”

You don’t answer him as you finished the organization. You spare him a glance.

So, he moves. His boots click on the cement until he stands behind you. He wraps his arms around your waste and leaned on you. “Sweetheart? Talk to me.”

“I thought you hated me and wished me dead, cowboy.” You huffed, “Because that wasn’t nice.”

He nuzzled into your neck as he watched your hands organize the sizes of the screws and bolts. “Didn’t mean it. Was mad ‘bout somethin’ else.”

Then he’ll lay his kisses on thick to show he means it, that he’s sorry for everything. His words haunt him as he laid on every apology.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers deeply. “Truly.”

You finished organizing the screws and bolts and placed them in little dishes. “Okay… I forgive you, Bo.”

“I gotta get ya more mad if ‘at means you’ll organize shit.”

“Don’t push it, lover boy.”

He turns you and gives a sweet kiss. “Dance wit’ me, honey?” He kisses you again. “Le’me prove it?”

You roll your eyes but end up dancing in the shop light to a slow song on the radio.

Maybe you’ll find time to organize his heart, he wonders. Organize his hate and throw out his anger along with the little scraps your found.

Until then, he’ll hope you stay in his arms and forgive him every time, everyday.

…

…you didn’t heart to tell him that you also color organized his screwdriver handles, hammers, knives, car parts, and oil rags.

[kotonoba]

TWAY (Jushiro/F!Reader) Ch. 1

Pilot chapter, I changed the title from Inside Look to The World Around You. It's a modern AU, an immediate follow-up with the epilogue from ISYT.

I forgot to post yesterday, I was exhausted after class, sorry.

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

Heavy panting, trembling legs as footsteps sounded behind you, warm streaks of tears mixed with salty sweat and a sweet taste of rain as you ran away from a pursuer. You hid behind a wall in an alleyway, your chest moving up and down frantically as you struggled to catch your breath. A light touch from your bruised digits unto your neck where heat and pain radiated off of a sizable hand-sized grip mark. 

You glanced up at the looming dark clouds as the rain continued to pelt down on your vision, a soft breeze brushing some rain into your eyes. You flinched and pulled away quickly from the contact, rubbing your eyes clear of the water. You retracted your stance of looking upwards as you covered your ears reflectively and saw a streak of lightning snap into view. But you counted the seconds before you heard the crack of lightning: 8 seconds. 

You pulled your hands away from your ears as the grumbling of the strike faded into obscurity. Your eyes were drawn to something shiny on your ring finger: an engagement ring. You smiled at the fond memories that flooded your senses. You recalled the memory of going ring shopping, seeing if the meaning behind the gems meant well for you and your fiance. You remembered the writing etched in the ring – “in sickness and health.” It was pretty cheesy; everyone used it, but it made you smile. 

You took note of the bruises and skin breakdown on your fingertips, recalling the act of scratching at a wooden door until it pried away at your skin and muscles until it gave away for your escape from an odorous, pitch-black room. Fear resonated through your legs. 

Fear immobilized you as the flash of lightning was blocked by a looming shadow; fear froze you, but you. You had a job to finish. Bravely, against the body’s will, you turned to face the shadow: a man with darkened pupils, & a sinister smile splattered with watery blood running down his skin from the rain. The man had short, spikey, jet-black hair. 

“Night, night,” the man spoke, raising the knife. His voice was high-pitched, prepuberty-like. A voice slipped out your mouth as you mouthed his name before the knife plunged & you were met with darkness. 

You took a sharp breath in before opening your eyes, greeted by bright skies – cloudy but bright – sirens sounding around you with the area taped off with yellow caution tapes. You were on one knee, holding onto a sword stabbed into the ground, and your left hand on a severed victim’s hand, “my condolences.” You whispered gently before getting up slowly with the support of your sword. 

Your partner leaned in with hope in his eyes that he would be promoted if this case went well, “so? Did you find the killer?” 

You smiled confidently at him, “Let’s go catch ourselves a killer,” as your partner happily celebrated, hurrying to the vehicle. You saw a man in a black outfit and a white haori; long white hair graced his presence as he watched you work. 

Your eyes furrowed a bit, and as you were about to head over, you felt a tug from your partner, who returned to rush you. " Where are you going, y/n? The killer isn’t gonna catch himself,” you laughed, turning to follow him to the police vehicle. With one last turn towards the wooded area, the figure was gone. 

You reasoned it was a lack of sleep and asked your partner to drive back to the police station to identify the suspect first. But the figure didn’t leave your thoughts on the drive back.

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

This will probably be posted at most bi-weekly. At least once a month because I need to finish Daybreak. TMLS (The Mundane Life of a Shinigami) will be posted every now & then for people who just wants to read, it's in no relationship to any ongoing writing, just short stories with inspirations.

The stories in TWAY is, by no means, related to any true crimes/unsolved mystery. Just ideas I have, they could be from my nightmares, for all you know.

Aries' AO3

[alwaysmoncheri]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐘𝐄𝐑𝐒

pairings ❧ steve harrington x reader

summary ❧ will byers goes missing in the small town of hawkins, indiana

warnings ❧ female!reader, cheesy & sappy steve, shit writing

word count ❧ 1.9k

additional notes ❧ the first chapter of my first story — it’s not great | thank you for reading ´･ᴗ･`

“No, absolutely not! No!" I giggle, snatching the unfinished mixtape from Steve's hand. "You can't add that!"

Steve and I are leaning up against his bed, shoulders, and knees touching, as we assemble a mixtape of our favorite songs from '83.

"Why not? It's perfect!" Steve reaches for the mixtape, but before he can take it, I swiftly pull my hand above my head, out of his reach.

"Because it's creepy, Harrington! It's basically a song about stalking!" I reply as Steve leans closer to me in an attempt to grab the mixtape again.

"Is it a little strange? Sure, but it's also romantic. When I heard it for the first time, it reminded me of you." Steve argues.

My cheeks heat up and I'm suddenly unaware of how close we've gotten. I notice Steve looking down at me, our noses almost touching. As we maintain eye contact, I can't resist glancing at his soft lips. I mentally scold myself, he's your best friend, damn it.

Get yourself together.

Unable to hold back an awkward cough, I turn my gaze away from Steve, sighing, and reluctantly hand the tape back to him. Steve smirks at me triumphantly and adds "Every Breath You Take" to our mixtape.

"See, I knew you'd come around eventually, Henderson. It's hard to resist such persuasive charm as this." Steve flashes me one of his famous "King Steve" smiles, and I can't help but shake my head and give into my urge to laugh.

Steve and I spend all night making our '83 mixtape, enjoying each other's company, laughing and teasing as we go.

In the midst of our playful banter I glance up at the clock on Steve's wall, I realize that I'm late for my meet-up with my brother Dustin. I was supposed to be meeting him at the Wheeler's so that after the boys' campaign ended we could ride our bikes home together.

"Oh shit," I whisper double checking the time on Steve's watch by grabbing his wrist. "Shit, shit, shit!" I say louder this time.

I quickly stand up, snatching my jacket and shoes, which were scattered around Steve's room. Steve abandons the rest of the mixtape, hot on my heels as I swiftly exit his room and hurry down the stairs towards the front door.

"(Y/n), it's late, why not just stay the night?" Steve suggests as we both rush down the stairs.

"I wish I could Steve, but I have to meet up with Dustin," I say softly before I arrive at the front door.

I whirl around one last time to face Steve, my body close to his, as I wrap my arms around him and we exchange a brief hug. I savor our warm embrace, wishing I could stay but knowing my obligations to my brother, I let Steve go.

"We'll finish the mixtape another time, I promise," I say before opening the door. As I finally step out the front door, I turn back with a smirk to bid Steve a final farewell. "I'll see you around, Harrington! Don't miss me too much!"

"In your dreams, Henderson!" Steve returns my smirk with a certain fondness in his eyes, before turning and shutting the door behind him, leaving me to face the dreary bike ride ahead.

I take a deep breath, mount my bike, and set off in the dark cover of the night to the Wheeler's.

When I'm nearing the house, my mind inevitably wanders to Steve. We've been best friends since he found me sitting alone in the first grade, but something changed as we grew older. He became "King Steve" and friends with Tommy H. and Carol. Total assholes. Despite that, we're still best friends, but things aren't the same. Especially now that he's dating Nancy Wheeler, who I consider one of my closest friends. Even though I try to be happy for them, this pang of jealousy stirs in my chest when I think of them happily in love. But I'm nothing more than Steve's best friend, so I swallow my feelings and accept the reality that they're together.

When I approach the driveway, I dismount my bike and spot Dustin and his friends bickering. As I draw closer, I start to make out what they're saying.

"She's got a stick up her butt." I hear my brother say plainly as he munches on what looks to be the last slice of pizza.

"Yeah, it's because she's been dating that douchebag, Steve Harrington," Lucas says picking up his bike and getting ready to ride home.

"Hey!" I say defensively as I finally reach the boys, "Steve's my friend, you know!"

"Hold on, where were you?" Lucas questions with a quizzical look on his face.

"She was at Steve's" Dustin answers plainly before returning to his conversation with Mike.

"Oooh, Steve" Lucas teases adding a suggestive tone to his voice. "You love Steve," Drawing out the "o" in love and then making kissing sounds for added effect, clearly amused by his own antics.

I narrow my eyes at Lucas, but I can't help the smile that sneaks its way on my face. My lips curling in a pleased grin.

"Piss off Sinclair," I roll my eyes with a grin still firmly plastered across my face, "Like you even know what you're talking about." Denying Lucas's ridiculous accusation, letting my faux annoyance show.

"Whatever you say, (Y/n)" Lucas responds, his skepticism radiating from his tone and the look on his face as we both mount our bikes.

"Yup," Dustin says to Mike as he climbs on his own bike, "She's turning into a real jerk."

"She's always been a real jerk," Mike adds, not bothering to hide his disapproving tone as the rest of us flick our bike lights on.

"Nuh-uh, she used to be cool," Dustin argues as we start our way down Mike's driveway, "Like that time she dressed up with (Y/n) as an elf for our Elder Tree campaign."

"Four years ago!" Mike shouts at us from across the dimly lit driveway.

"Just saying!" My brother shouts back in response, having the last word, just as we reach the end of Mike's driveway.

"Later," Lucas says to Mike before catching up to Dustin and me making our way home.

As we're riding home under the stars, I close my eyes for just a second, enjoying the cold breeze flowing past me. It's such a refreshing feeling, with the wind in my hair and my bike zipping along the dark and empty street. In this moment, the world seems to slow down, a pang of nostalgia creeping to the surface as I'm reminded of a simpler time in my life when I was Dustin's age. Those carefree days with Steve by my side seemed so distant now, now that things have changed between us. Tonight, being with Steve in his room had been the closest thing to returning to the way our friendship was in the past. It was nice to relive those memories, even for a moment, to remember what we once had.

"Goodnight, ladies," Lucas teases with a sly smirk and his attention now firmly focused on me. With a wink, he adds, "If you get tired of Harrington, you know I'm always available." With a roll of my eyes at his antics, I suppress the grin threatening to escape onto my lips.

"Kiss your mom 'night for me," Dustin teases back as Lucas departs from our group to his house. Dustin then turns to Will and I, "Race back to my place?" He asks, "Winner gets a comic." I raise my eyebrows, questioning my little brother's statement.

"Any comic?" Will asks with wide eyes displaying his disbelief.

"Yeah!" Dustin says confidently.

"Let's do this, little bro." I say with a mischievous smile.

I lock eyes with Will and give a confident nod, both of us thinking the same thing. We take off, pedaling as fast as our legs will let us in attempt to get a lead on Dustin.

"Hey, Hey!" Dustin calls after us, "I didn't say go!" Dustin tries to catch us, not succeeding in the slightest, "Get back here!!" Will and I burst into laughter as we race ahead of Dustin, exchanging a quick high five. "I'm gonna kill you!"

"I'll take your X-Men 134!" Will shouts back as he speeds up and quickly getting ahead of me. I giggle at my brother and his friend as we approach my house.

"Bye, Will!" I call out watching him pass my house and cruise down the road.

"See you later, (Y/n)!" Will replies before I make the turn into my driveway, and head inside.

As I walk through the door, I notice my mother and our cat Mews curled up on the couch together, with a soft smile I place a blanket over top of the two. When I go to give my mother a good night kiss on the forehead Dustin obnoxiously opens the front door.

"Son of a bitch," Dustin says clearly frustrated from his loss, I jerk my head over to where he stands by the door.

"Shh!" I whisper-yell placing my finger to my lips, nodding to our mothering sleeping soundly on the couch.

"Oh, sorry," Dustin softly murmurs, making a grand display of tip-toeing across the floor to his bedroom. I roll my eyes at him, but follow closely behind. Before we split off to our separate rooms I turn back around to face Dustin, and notice he already turned too.

"How was Steve's?" Dustin asks awkwardly averting his gaze to the floor.

"Good," I whisper with a soft smile, my hand resting on the doorknob to my room, "Really good."

"Good night sis," Dustin says before opening his bedroom door and stepping inside, "I, uh, hope everything works out between you two,"

“Good night, Dustin,” I say softly, stepping into my own room, closing the door behind me, “Me too.”

I shrug off my jacket and carefully place it on my chair, then I kick off my shoes. With a little sigh, I cross over to my bed and plop myself down. I take a moment to reflect on todays events, my mind wandering as I let out a content breath. I reach over to my dresser and grab my Walkman, placing the headphones over my ears. I turn on, “Time After Time,” and slowly drift off in a comfortable sleep as the song fills my ears.

next chapter . my masterlist . my taglist

alwaysmoncheri © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.

[bee-saucee]

Hello, again~!

I've been doing all I can to not bombard you since last time, so now here I am. I love seeing men and people in general being able to show their ability to cook and nourish their loved ones through food. What does that look like for Shinso and Denki? Are they adventurous in their cooking? What kinds of dishes and foods are always in the fridge? Snacking? Who cooks the most? And when is a time that they would eat food outside the house? Anyhoo, hope you're doing well this first month of the year. And go bonkers sksk wherever your thought train takes you. ^-^

summary: ShinKami’s habits with eating, snacking, and cooking!

word count: 496

warnings: eating/food centered content

a/n: Hello again, friend! I’ll start with the important thing: This request is split up into three separate ones. I have a headcanons (this post), a short oneshot, and a longer oneshot. They have different vibes so I didn’t want anyone to not be able to read something or be put off because of one of these pieces. I’ll link the other posts at the end of this piece as well!

Anyway, I am so sorry I’m getting this back to you so late. I started my new semester at University when you sent this so I’ve been reeling trying to get back into the swing of things. That being said, I wanted to try and write something substantial for you to make up for the long wait. I’m also taking two writing courses the semester for fun so hopefully you see a bit of improvement here!

Hope you’re doing well. Thank you so so much for the request. I’d love to write something for you again.

I think that ShinKami has a lot of fun in the kitchen! When they met, they weren’t the savviest in the kitchen. They’re the type to know how to make maybe 3 dishes well but when they got together they decided to start on the journey of learning how to cook together! Cooking along with YouTube videos every night is a time that brings them together and they love cooking a homemade meal for date night

Even before learning how to cook for one another, Shinsou grew up on homemade soup when you’re sick so he always always makes Denki some chicken noodle soup when he’s sick and it never fails to make Denki cry a bit and get even snottier from the tears

Denki knows he’s not the best chef but he likes baking because the steps and measurements are a lot more clearly defined so he has an easier time with it. For just about every holiday, Denki will make some cookies for his loved ones. They come out lopsided and aren’t fully cooked a lot of the time but it's the thought that counts for these and he’s gotten better over the years.

From watching so much food content on YouTube to learn how to cook they have become hardcore sauce people

Shinsou is by far the more organized between the two of them so he keeps everything in the fridge in Pyrex tupperware they got as a housewarming gift from Aizawa. He also writes the date they made the food on masking tape he slaps on the tupperware because the thought of eating expired food makes his toes curl

They are busy pro heroes so while they like fresh food (especially Shinsou, see previous bullet point), they tend to keep rice ready to go for each night and they usually have pasta sometime during the week because they can never finish it (Denki swears you have to use the entire box of pasta each time. He’s working on scaling it back)

For snacks, I think that they always have peanut butter pretzels and apples in the house but they also love going to the store and trying out new snacks, especially those chips with with odd combos

They really do try to cook together but Shinsou will wind up picking up cooking by himself a bit more than Denki does because he tends to forget about things or tag along for hangouts last minute while Shinsou is a homebody

Shinkami also LOVES eating out! Of course for celebrations but they also love going out to a restaurant for date nights to slow down and get a chance to just talk. They’ll also stop at hole-in-the-wall type places near their work at the end of the day when they don’t have the energy to cook. They’re not super big takeout people because they hate the delivery fees but they will get it occasionally!

Lots of eating batter off the spoon when they bake

Check out the other posts based on this request: short oneshot | longer oneshot

or see my masterlist for more!

[lauvra]

I shot guns in a videogame. I abstained from sex and masturbation. I quit caffeine. I wrote your last words, painted over them then turned them into an acrostic poem. I smoked one cigarette every ten minutes to fill a rental apartment with smoke and my lungs with tar. I sugar-soaped the walls and moved into the crawlspace of a place by the beach. I ushered the wrong people into forgiveness and said far too much to curious folks who didn't care. I wouldn't watch romance in movies or hug men. I danced in gay clubs and bought drugs. I walked on the opposite side of the street from the bar. I screamed while my friends apologised to strangers, laughed and corrected chairs in my path of destruction. You messaged a day later, asked how I was doing, "fine," I said. I drank coffee 'til 2am and sold my car. I leaned over the rooftop facing Luna Park, looking for you in happy strangers on the street below. I put the link in bio. I took on debt to move farther from you but ended up in a studio beside a skate park. Yikes. With each move I refused to let others carry your painting, fearing they'd damage it. I tanned, stretched, lifted iron and listened to subliminal sleep tapes for self esteem. I quit smoking and stopped answering calls. I caught planes not caring whether they'd land. I underlined text in A Lover's Discourse in Prahran square. I bought a piano and passed you in the rain. I convinced myself I caused the earthquake. I had a second ocean baptism and got a new job. When I panicked in the second week, my boss said I had stuff to resolve. I watched milestone fireworks and felt nothing at all. I grew sharp claws, painted them cherry red. You walked past me standing with a friend, caught the wrong end of context. Karma, I guess. I lived by your perception and treated everybody with suspicion. I got a gym membership and therapist. He dropped me, said "maybe you aren't ready to change yet". I touched a petal on every roadside flower and thought about something you said. Mouthed thank-you in silence at pedestrian crossings remembering, "they can't hear you!" I got a new job and two cherubs tattooed on my forearm. They did not bring love. Cops checked my welfare again. I went on a date to a jazz bar, then an open mic poetry night and fled before the end. I wrote you bad, I wrote you fair, I wrote you real. I had sex with a divorcee. I sang sad things and sought religious experiences at gigs. I met with a deployed American soldier thinking maybe he'd kill me, a mercy, then didn't give him an opportunity. I searched up, beneath and inside. I bought a gold ring to feel a little like you at the end of each day. I wished the non-follower view was you, knowing it wasn't. I got a new job, moved to the other side of the city and said I was free. Two weeks later you tagged down my street. My bad, another Goliath mishap. I brushed my hands against the paint, drank four bottles of wine in a week and wrote in recollection. I moved once more. Quit the workforce. I had Penny's teeth cleaned, mine pulled and stumbled through the city in a borrowed jacket. I wondered what exactly you were afraid to say under general anaesthetic. I forgot I, then remembered again. I put a painting in an exhibit, got a new therapist and joined a support group. I've walked you off, taken over a thousand showers, laughed, cried, scowled, searched obituaries and whispered sorry too quietly for the wind to carry. I've read, turned you into art, prayed for and ignored you, envied people you moved onto, forgiven but still can't walk past the stranger I loved on Rose Street without my knees weakening. But really, when I write to you it's another brick wall spoken to. It's as Steinbeck once said: money removes the charge of insanity. At least I gained one penny for my grief. It was real for me but you were right, we have nothing to say to one another. I've felt, thought and written it all. You were more precise: "All good, I'm out."

[chorusfm]

Snarls

This past weekend, I was able to schedule an in-person interview with Snarls before their show at DC9 in Washington, D.C. The tour stop was during the band’s first headlining tour of their young career, and was in support of their critically acclaimed sophomore record, With Love. In this interview, I asked the band about key moments during the writing/recording process of their new album, the songs that are translating best to the live setting, and much more. So thank you so much for your time this evening. I believe this is your first headlining tour?  It is! That’s awesome. So what decisions or goals were made by your band before you embarked on these dates?  We want to play the best show possible, which isn’t always possible every night. I mean, it’s always hard to keep the highest spirits every single night. But I know that I just, even on my bad nights, I try to just keep my smiling, performing face on, because I want to put on a good show for people. That’s a personal thing that I’m really working on this tour. With people coming out to see us, headlining a big focus for me was definitely engaging with our fans a lot on this tour. Making time to say hi to everyone after shows and get all the pictures we possibly can. Definitely looked forward to connecting with them.  Awesome! So With Love, has garnered great, well-deserved praise from several different media outlets, including us. What were your ranges of emotions when you first saw that Rolling Stone feature?  It doesn’t get old, is all I’m going to say. Yeah, it’s really cool. I completely agree. I have a very personal connection to Rolling Stone. I subscribed to the magazine as a kid, read every copy I possibly could, cut out pictures, and hung them on my wall and stuff. Yeah, I mean, they’re huge. It’s just a huge accomplishment for us. I’m super happy about that. It’s always wild to see that, to have that kind of recognition from that kind of name. It really doesn’t get old. It’s always surreal. You can never shake that.  Were there any other gut check reactions when the album was starting to be announced that you guys were kind of amazed by the reaction from the fans?  I had a really fun time at midnight when the album dropped. There were a bunch of fans at a listening party. Yeah, it was like, I thought that was super, super cute. We’ve never had something like that before. I mean, just from the second it came out, it was positive energy. I think it’s very common amongst musicians, because everyone is just living their life, right? I always just feel like Snarls is this hobby, this thing that I do, and it starts to feel kind of small sometimes. And then, yeah. But not in a bad way. It’s just a thing I do. It’s just one of my everyday things. But then when Rolling Stone talks about it, it’s like, wow, we’re really getting some pretty serious recognition. So it’s just really cool. And I’m glad the album’s getting some good traction for you guys too, because you guys have been at this for a while. So speaking of the new record, which songs were the most challenging to create, and put to tape with Chris Walla? And I think it was recorded in Norway too, right?  Yes! “Ur song,” I’m just thinking of the miracle challenges. I feel like we had a time with “Star Power.” We had a time with “Moon Tides” too. We did? I think at times. Lyrically, yeah. Yeah, like all of the instruments and like the forms of the songs came together really well. It’s just our biggest hunks were with lyrics and like finishing all the lyrics out. That’s what I feel. I think with the instrumentation being a little more interesting on this record, we were just kind of struggling with syllables. And I was like, oh, I want to say this, but it’s like two syllables too long. It’s very nitpicky stuff. Especially when I referenced “Moon Tides.” It’s like the concept was there. We had a lot of words we wanted to use. It’s just, as Chlo said, fitting them in exactly, perfectly . Locking in, as they say. But yeah, as… https://chorus.fm/features/interviews/snarls-2/

[soracities]

i started crying when i read all of your kind words, thank you so much. this might be the first time someone told me that a failed exam doesn't matter in my life. i'm just scared at being yelled at by my teacher in front of everyone.

- 15yo anon.

(cont’d /2) its 10pm right now, and i have school at 7am tomorrow. i'm sorry for this ask, it's just that i sat down and realised no adult has been kind to me in the way i need. your responses are still making me cry tears of joy and hope.

that being said-

i'm scared since it's the first time i'm going to in-person school in a long time, it's the first time i've failed an exam, and i know my tuition teacher will later yell at me in front of twenty other kids and i don't know.... maybe my scholarship is being taken away. i'm terrified.

i don't even plan on taking math next year and i'm furious at how my bad grades in math dictate whether i get a scholarship to study liberal arts and social study next year. i was so excited to study at my new school next year.

i don't know what i'll do when i get yelled at, because crying means i'll only get scolded harder or slapped.

 i just want to go to art school or syudy history when i'm 18 i hate the way this one exam is making me thinking whether i'm a dissapointment and should have died at birth or something.

and it's even more fucking silly, because i got a 47% in math last time, had to take a retest and then i got 89%. i barely even remember that. i'm certain i won't remember my bad grades in a few years, and yet right now i'm just.... so scared.

 i'm really, really, really sorry for these three asks. i hope i didn't take too much of your time/effort. i'm sorry for being a bother.

/3) also it felt nice when you called me a kid in the tags. everyone tells me fifteen is so grown up and adult-like. i've always known that fifteen is nothing compared to 26, 30, 39, 50 etc etc, but being called a fully grown teenager and young adult by everyone made me forget i'm just a little kid who's trying his best.

i don’t know where you are in the world or what your education system is like there in that your teacher can get away with something like this but i am telling you right now that under no circumstances does your tutor (or anyone) have the right to yell at you or physically assault you in any way whatsoever no matter how they try to justify it or how much the environment you’re in allows it: your teacher is an asshole. pure and simple. and absolutely no part of how they respond or treat you is your fault in this and i really, really, really need you to believe this and tell yourself this over and over if you have to until you believe it as readily as your own hearbeat because it is absolutely, entirely true. their responsibility here is far bigger than yours. if your student is struggling it is your job, as a teacher and also as the actual literal adult to address that appropriately, not punish and belittle and berate for something as simple as a bad grade my god.

i don’t know if anyone has told you this yet, maybe they have because it seems like such an obvious thing but it was something i know would have made my life so much easier if i had learnt it earlier: but if you are going to get better at something, if you are going to grow and learn anything, you have to fail--you need to fail -- so you can know where and what to improve on, what to do and what not to do and crucially, move beyond the familiar and comfortable spheres you’ve already made a home in. this is what will make you better, more confident, more resilient and capable in the long run, whether its in academics or anything else. your failures need to become far more valuable to you than your successes because of all the potential they are holding for you, all the things you can learn from them and the person you can become as a result. and these failures need to happen in an environment where you are not punished for them. any teacher who actively makes you feel like you, as a human being, are a disappointment and not worth anything because of this (which happens to literally everyone at some point) is someone who is, once again, an utter Asshole, and someone who is actively sacrificing your growth as a student and your very wellbeing for the sake of some warped and dehumanizing excuse for an education that assigns merit to nothing else except for how well you can tolerate stress you do not deserve to be put through in the first place.

again, i don’t know where you are, or what your school system is like, so i don’t know what or who will be available for you to go to and talk to so that you can at least get some practical and immediate information or advice that might give you perspective and help make this less frightening because you don’t deserve to be put through all this. like, i can’t stress enough how entirely out of line your teacher is here and i’m so so sorry that you haven’t had adults around you to give you the support, protection, and assurance you need and should be getting in what it sounds like such an unbearably stressful and traumatising environment. all i can really say to you that i hope can help and comfort you a little is that since your ask i’ve had a few others send their own experiences in which i’ll publish as i get the chance to, and if you get nothing else from all this please, please know that you are not alone and not a failure -- not ever a failure -- and that even if it is coming from nameless and faceless strangers, you are sharing a space in this world with people who understand what you are going through and have come out of it or are coming out of it and sending love and support to you so that you know, or at least can hopefully see one day, that you will come out of it, too.

and also, yes, you are absolutely a kid and the idea that you are adult-like at 15 is laughable to me like oh my god...yes you are gaining more responsibilities and expectations which are important to learn to navigate but you are also still very much a kid, and i literally do not know a single person my age who thinks of themselves as anything other than that at 15; i see a photo of myself from school and am immediately in Mom Mode so believe me: you are so, so, so young and you have so, so, so much yet to learn and see and you are absolutely trying your best, you are, you are, you are. and even if you feel that no one around you believes it, i believe it for whatever that is worth and i’ll keep on doing so. sending you oceans of love, anon. i hope you can feel it ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

[11thsdoctress]

“my point is...” [reader x Doctor]

Fandom: Doctor Who

Ship: 11th Doctor x Reader

Word Count: 1144 words

Summary: After countless adventures with the Doctor, and an incident that left you mildly injured, He orders you to stay at home, but you kinda disobeyed, since you had nothing to do, which leads to a surprise when you get home.

Warnings: none that I can think of

(a/n: it’s my first fanfic after literal *years* of not writing stories and I have been on multiple brainrot runs, and I thought, might as well write one for one of my favorite characters of all time, hope what i wrote isn’t too terrible, happy reading!)

Your adventures with the Doctor were never described as “normal”, truth be told it’s far from the norm, and most of the thrilling adventures were fun, some of the time they were dangerous, but both of you and the Doctor knew that.

Being with the Doctor would also include some near-death experiences, and meeting otherworldly beings, but what you weren’t prepared for was the emotional bond with the Doctor, you thought it wouldn’t go further than a platonic friendship, but yet, here you are, slowly developing more feelings for him, caring for him, more than a friend would care. You admired the Doctor after all, but unsure of what would happen or how would he feel if or when he finds out, and afraid of the change that could happen and what would he say to you.

However, after a certain incident that happened last week, where there were claw marks on your arm, and some cuts on your neck and face, it sounded serious for a bit, but thanks to the Doctor’s medicine and supplies in the TARDIS, your wounds were almost fully healed.

You wanted to go on more adventures out there, insisting and trying to convince the Doctor that you were completely fine, and the wounds you had were not that serious at all, but He was still adamant in his decision that he told you to stay at home, without any further explanation aside from the incident last week, It was “Doctor’s orders” apparently.

This made you question if you were still needed by him, or if you were just a burden to him, after all, it was your fault for being careless while helping the Doctor, all you wanted to do was help but you got injured in the end, and there was a pang of lingering guilt by making him worry about you when he was patching you up in the infirmary. You hated this feeling every time it came into mind, but it was worse today, considering the length of action he had to do, which ended up with his decision for you to stay at home.

It’s been a couple of days since the Doctor left to go on some space adventure without you, it was unusual for him to go on adventures solo, and insisted for you to stay behind in your house.

A few minutes passed since midnight, and you were on the way back from working late, obviously kind of disobeying the Doctor’s orders but you couldn’t help it, you had nothing to do, and it’s extra cash, so why the hell not?

These thoughts wander as the night during the walk home seemed darker than usual as you were trying to get your mind off the Doctor, worried that he was going to be gone for another day, or worse, something bad had happened to him. 

Fumbling your hands in the pockets of your coat, looking for the keys to your house, as you were a minute away from the front door, there was a certain feeling in your gut that something was different. 

You stopped at the front door of your house, and saw a folded piece of paper taped on the door, a bit concerned, you grabbed the paper carefully, before looking around, making sure no one watching. Opening the paper, there were only two words written on the paper,

“Missed Me?” 

Nervously, you rush to grab the keys, and as soon as you tried to insert the keys into your door, it suddenly opened and you were pulled in and pinned against the wall by the Doctor with some mild scratches and cuts on his face, accompanied by his messy, disheveled hair.

It took you a while to calm down and catch your breath, but after you do so, your faces were inches away,

“I thought I told you to stay at home,” he says as he looks into your eyes.

“I’m a grown adult, I can take care of myself.” you retorted as you rolled your eyes

“Still, I can’t have you running around and potentially lose you when I’m not with you.” He leaned his forehead against yours as he relaxes a bit, “At least I can relax now, knowing you’re safe and sound here, with me” 

“What do you mean?” you ask, confused by his sudden sentiment and bravery, you weren’t used to him telling you that he wasn’t relaxed when you were not around.

“Look, ever since last week, I regrettably put you in harm’s way and I realized I can’t live with the fact or bear the thought of losing you because of my irresponsibility.” he explained, “And because of that, I decided to tell you to stay here, even though it hurts every single time I had to leave to venture off out there without you, and I also regret that decision.” He looks down and you could feel the pain and guilt that was in him. “I hated the fact that every time I found something or the times I wanted a second thought or someone to share ideas, I turn around and forgot that you weren’t there.”

“So what’s your point, Doctor?” you look at him and cupped his cheeks, making him look into your eyes, looking at his, there was a hint of nervousness in his mind.

“My point is..” he sighs and closes his eyes before closing the distance by placing his lips onto yours, he was gentle but there was a mix of aggression like he was waiting for this moment for a long time. After a moment of processing, you slowly kissed back, and he was continuing this kiss by going deeper and letting his hands roam from your wrists to your waist, slowly caressing and pulling you closer even more, before snaking one of his arms around your waist and the other hand holding the back of your head.

After a while, you both pulled away, both trying to catch your breaths after the moment, he looks at you again, “the question now is, are you okay with this?” he asked, wanting confirmation, “This being, You, and Me, together.” He said as he held your face.

“You should know by now Doctor, I would like this, you and me together.” You repeated his line as your hand played with his hair, making him release all the tension he had built in him.

“I love you so much.” He says as he smiled and looks at you before kissing you on your forehead, cheeks, lips, and neck.

He pulls away but still held your hand as he planted one more kiss on the top of your hand, “Shall we?” he gestures to the TARDIS that was parked in the living room. You nodded and smiled as you followed him to the next adventure, wherever and, or whenever.

(a/n: again, i hope it’s not too terrible, i wanna try writing more again, since i kinda rediscovered why i liked storytelling, but yeah, hope you enjoyed this read!)

[talkfastromance4]

perfect birthday--ashton irwin (4+1)

4 times her birthday went right, and 1 time it...didn't.

a/n: this is very very very self-indulgent because my birthday is the day before ashton's and i love writing things where it can be shared with his, even if it is fictitious. a little late on posting but oh well.

word count: 4.3k

warnings: none

masterlist

enjoy! :)

4

Ashton was in search of the birthday girl as soon as he arrived at her apartment, a perfectly wrapped gift in hand. He’s not quite sure how he could miss her, it’s not a grandiose apartment and he searched in every face he passed. 

She wasn’t in front of the silver streamers taped to her wall with silver and gold balloons as an archway. She wasn’t in the kitchen where a counterful of appetizers were displayed with ‘happy birthday’ confetti sprinkled along the counter top. She wasn’t in the living room where a small beer pong table was set up. He almost thought she ditched her own party until he saw the door to her balcony was opened. 

“There you are,” he says, stepping out into the warm summer night. String lights were hung and lit through the spokes of the balcony and she was donned in a pretty dress with a sash and crown. “What are you doing out here?”

“Taking it all in,” she sighs, “nothing has gone wrong today and that’s a first for my birthday.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Is that for me?” she smiles pointing to the silver gift wrapped box. 

“I think so…you are the birthday girl, right? I can’t tell by the crown or sash,” he teases and she laughs. “Yeah, you can open it now, if you want.”

She slices through the paper with her nails then rips it off completely to see it’s a boxed candle with her name on it. She’s reading the notes of what the candle smells like and her mouth opens in a soft gasp. 

“How did you find this?” 

“I made it–well, I didn’t melt the wax or anything but there’s an online shop that creates candles for special days or things that remind you of a person. These are all the smells that make me think of you, and put them together…they’re you.”

“Ashton, this is so incredible,” she breathes and gives him a hug. “Thank you so much, I love it.”

They’re interrupted by some guests who want to take birthday shots with her. She places her candle in her room so it won’t get knocked over and Ashton watches as she does a round of shots. Throughout the party he discovers she organized her whole party because in the past, plans have always fallen through and she’s cried at too many birthday parties that she didn’t want to as that one song suggests. 

He helps her clean up some of the mess and they light the candle he brought her in her living room, the first scent is vanilla and lilies. They’re digging into the ice cream cake she bought for herself and they’re playing a game of truth or truth. 

“It’s way too late to do dares,” she told him when he suggested it. “The truth can be equally as daring.” 

“Okay, truth,” he says, settling his fork on the coffee table. “How do you really feel about your birthday?”

“Indifferent now,” she shrugs. “When I was younger it was always so special. I’d wake up and there’d be a pile of presents on the kitchen table with cards that had my name on them and balloons. The whole day would be about what I wanted to do and it’d end with me blowing out candles on my birthday cake. As I got older, fights would always happen on my birthday, no one would want to do what I did or they just wouldn’t come. I still think it’s special, but I act like it’s not because apparently that’s what happens when you get older. It’s just another day.” 

“It’s not just another day though, this is the day you were born into the world. It’s one of my favorite days.”

She gives him a look and shakes her head.

“You’re just saying that. We’ve only known each other for what, eight months?”

“Eight months is just enough time, y/n. With the candle, I promise to make sure your birthday will always be perfect.”

“Why?”

“Because I care about you. There’s also another gift I want to give you…” he swallows harshly, his hazel eyes never straying from hers. “If you want it.” 

“What is it?” she whispers. 

He leans in closer to her on the couch, his arm shifting more over her shoulder. 

“A kiss.” 

She bites her lip and nods, she leans in closer as well. Ashton smiles and uses his other hand so he can untuck her lip from her teeth.

“I can’t kiss you if you’re biting your lip.”

“I do that when I’m nervous…but in a good way.”

“I’m nervous, too,” he smiles and ever so slowly closes the space between them. Her lips are soft and hesitant against his, a perfect kiss.

“That definitely made my birthday perfect,” she says just as the clock turned to midnight. 

“It started mine out perfectly, too,” he smiles and kisses her again.

3

It’s her first birthday celebration with Ashton where they’re a couple. After they shared a kiss on her birthday the year prior, they started dating and became exclusive right away. Ashton made sure of his promise that her birthday will always be perfect. He’s been planning this for almost a month. 

He appears on her doorstep with a bouquet of flowers and her favorite type of coffee. While she sits sleepy eyed at her kitchen table rereading the card he wrote in her flowers and sipping her coffee, he used her kitchen to make breakfast for her. 

Then they went to her favorite spot for lunch and a bookstore where he bought her three books as a present. The rest of the day was spent sitting on her balcony while she read and Ashton worked on some song lyrics. When she started to drift off, he recommended they take a well deserved birthday nap. The pair settled on her bed exchanging sleepy kisses before they both drifted off for a few hours. 

“Okay, now that our relaxation time is over, it’s party time,” he grins after they woke up. He told her he brought clothes to change into.

“Do I have time to shower?” 

“You have all the time you need,” he kisses her shoulder, “the party won’t start without you.”

After an hour and a half they were out the door just as the sun was setting. They were bathed in a bright pink and bleeding red sunset as he drove along the coast. Some stars were winking into the sky as they arrived at a restaurant that had music booming from within. 

Ashton took her hand as soon as the valet caught the keys from Ashton and he ushered her inside towards the back of the restaurant. Through big wooden doors, there was an eruption of ‘Happy Birthday!’ as their friends sent off noisemakers and party poppers. She and Ashton were covered in silly string and pieces of confetti. 

“You did all of this?” she asks, staring at the backdrop wall with beautiful decorations of flowers. There’s tables full of entrees and appetizers and a separate table with mini cupcakes placed in an array of her initials. 

“I told you I’d make sure your birthdays are perfect.”

“You’re perfect,” she shakes her head and loops her arms around his waist. She rises on her toes so she can give him a kiss. There’s cheers and catcalls from their friends and they become covered in more silly string.

“Save the birthday sex for after the party, please,” Calum jokes.

2

To be honest, she wasn’t expecting much this year for her birthday from Ashton only because the promise he made is pretty heavy. A perfect birthday every year? It’s too good to be true. But, lo and behold, Ashton woke her up with a very sweet voicemail and him on her doorstep with flowers. 

“Happy birthday, baby,” he grins. “Ready to go?”

“Where are we going?” she asks, going through her mental checklist of what he told her to bring in her bag. Sunscreen, sunglasses, drivers license, and then her overnight bag so she’ll have all her essentials at his place. 

“It’s a surprise,” he kisses her forehead then hefts her duffel bag on his shoulder towards his car. 

He ends up taking her to an aquarium where they spend the first couple hours of the morning walking around the deep blue lit waters. She loved watching the jellyfish flex and move hypnotically through the water. A sea turtle swam so close to the glass she looked into its eye. She was mesmerized by the sharks tauntingly swimming up above. 

“Ooh, can we go to the gift shop before we go home?” she asks, seeing the sign above the store opening after they left the last exhibit. 

“Sure, but we aren’t going home after this,” he grins.

“What? Where are we going?” she asks and his response is a wink before towing her inside the gift shop. 

They meander through the shop when Ashton stops at the shelves holding the stuffed animals. He picks up a brown sea otter with a purple starfish in its hands.

“Did you know sea otters mate for life?” he asks. “And they hold hands while they sleep so they don’t drift away from their partner or their group.” He pokes the stuffed otter’s nose against hers. “You’re my otter, y/n.”

“Then we’ll need another one, since you’re my otter,” she picks up an otter and boops his nose as well. 

After the aquarium they drive for about thirty minutes until they pull into a music festival. Ashton paid for parking but before they exited the vehicle, he scrolled through his phone. 

“I know they’re your favorite, so I have tickets to see…” he holds up his phone to show her favorite artist on the phone.

“What?! Are you serious, Ashton?”

“I’m serious,” he laughs. “The show doesn’t start until seven thirty so I figured we’d walk around a bit and listen to other bands and performers, eat some food.”

“You’re incredible,” she shakes her head and kisses his nose then his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

They apply sunscreen to each other’s faces and shoulders and walk through the festival. Some of the artists they stop and listen to are so good they stay for the whole set. When a certain food smells good they try it out and share it. A few times Ashton stops to say hello to fans and thank them for their early birthday wishes to him. 

When it’s time for the concert, she’s vibrating in her seat because of how excited she is for the show. The opening acts are great and when it’s time for the headliner, she’s one of the first to jump to her feet and scream in excitement.

Ashton records her singing, dancing, and crying at her favorite songs. He sings along with her and wipes her tears away with his thumbs. When the encore happens they both scream and dance to the hit song that’s been on the charts for months.

The festival ends with fireworks over a lake and before heading back to his car, they trek the sidewalk to an insomnia cookie shop. 

“Cheers to the birthday girl,” Ashton says, holding up his chocolate milk carton.

“Cheers to the best boyfriend,” she smiles and bumps their chocolate milk together. 

When the night is nearly over, she complains about how tired and hot her feet are. Ashton bends down.

“Hop on.”

He gives her a piggyback ride all the way to his car and when they arrive at his house, he pulls off her shoes and starts to rub her feet. 

“I really love my otter,” she says, holding it to her chest. 

“I’m glad, but there is one more gift.”

“No!” her eyes widen as he rises from the couch to grab a small wrapped gift from his kitchen counter. “Ashton, this was all more than enough. The tickets, the aquarium, the otters–”

He presses his lips to hers silencing her little rant.

“Shut up and open your present,” he tells her lightly. He settles back in his spot on the couch and at rubbing her feet.

She sighs and unwraps the small gift. Inside is a diamond heart shaped necklace with two rubies in the small clear window between the heart. 

“For the both of us,” he explains, pointing to the rubies. 

She sighs happily, places the necklace on his coffee table and slips onto his lap. 

“Happy birthday, angel.”

1

A month before her birthday, Ashton asked what she would like to do and she told him a nice relaxing day would be plenty. They spent the last couple months moving all of her stuff into his place and things were finally in order. She wanted a quiet night in with maybe a glass or two of wine and an order of takeout. 

“Relaxing, huh? Okay, I can do that,” he smiled and whistled while he finished folding their laundry. 

Turns out, her version of relaxing and his version are somewhat different. He set up a spa day for two including massages, facials, pedicures, and a steam room. 

“Ash, how much did this cost?” she asks while her feet are being rubbed for her pedicure.

“You’re not supposed to ask that for birthday gifts.”

“I’m trying real hard to stay mad at you,” she sighs, leaning against her chair. “But this pedicure is heaven.”

“Stay mad at me? What did I do?” he laughs.

“All of this, you spoil me too much.”

“Girl, I wish my boyfriend did all this for me,” the woman doing the pedicure says. “Count yourself lucky.”

“I am lucky,” y/n says and reaches over to hold Ashton’s hand. He looks at her. “But you don’t have to go overboard.”

“No such thing as overboard when it comes to you.”

The girls ‘aww’ at his statement and her face heats up. It’s been three years they’ve been together and he still manages to give her butterflies with the things he says. 

They do end up staying in for the rest of the night mainly because after being pampered all morning and afternoon, their bodies are jell-o. Ashton makes sure they have enough water and there’s a large chocolate covered strawberry arrangement waiting for them on the kitchen table. 

“Are you still mad at me?” he asks as they settle in to watch her favorite movie.

“Hard to be mad when my muscles are so relaxed,” she sighs and then there’s a knock at the door. “Who’s that?”

“Oh yeah, one more present,” Ashton grins deviously and bounds off the couch. 

“Ash, seriously?!” she laughs trying to see who’s at the door.

“Close your eyes, babe!”

She groans but does as he says and crosses her arms across her chest. There’s some rustling and she hears a very faint sneeze.

“Bless you?” 

“Okay, open your eyes.”

When her eyes open up she sees Calum standing next to Ashton but Calum isn’t what surprises her and makes her gasp. What makes her gasp is the cream colored golden retriever puppy cradled in Calum’s arms, a large pink bow wrapped around her neck.

“You’re joking, are you serious? Don’t joke about a puppy!” she squeals and leaps at the puppy. Her tail wags and y/n takes her into her arms, the puppy immediately sniffs and licks at her nose and cheeks. “Oh, hi sweet baby.” 

“I’m serious, this is our puppy, babe,” Ashton smiles pointing his phone at the two of them. “Cal watched her for a couple of days, all her stuff and toys are in his car. But she’s ours. Do you like her?”

“I love her! She’s so precious,” y/n coos and kisses the puppy’s nose. “Hi pretty girl.” 

“Well, do you have an idea for a name?” Calum asks. 

“She looks like a Layla, don’t you think?” y/n asks Ashton.

“Layla is perfect.”

+1

Tension has been a bit high between Ashton and y/n because of him touring again and being gone all the time. When he’s home she wants to do all of the things with him but he just wants to stay inside and cuddle with Layla. 

When her birthday approached she was prepared to stay in and not do anything which is totally fine, but when Ashton told her he made reservations at an airbnb for a long weekend, another small fight ensued about Layla.

“What are we going to do with Layla? I assume the airbnb isn’t pet friendly?”

“It’s not but I already made plans with Michael that Layla would be staying with them. They’re happy to watch her for us, I promise.”

And that was that but Ashton was still acting more high strung than normal. He double and triple checked his bags and constantly checked the traffic reports. After everything was packed in the car, and he did another walk through of the house, they were on their way to Michael and Crystal’s house to drop off Layla.

It was a hard goodbye but her tail was wagging as she sat on the front step with Southy and Moose and y/n knew she’d be in good hands. If only the trip started off on the right foot after that. 

The airbnb was almost two hours away and within the first forty-five minutes it started to downpour. Ashton was tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel in irritation at the sudden rainfall.

“This wasn’t in the radar, so where did it come from?” he seethes turning the windshield wipers up to their highest speed. The highway speed has slowed down because of the rain and added an extra forty minutes to their arrival time. 

“It’s fine,” she tries to console him by rubbing at his shoulder. “Just drive slow and we’ll get there when we get there.”

The rain persisted and when they were about a half hour away from the airbnb, there was a pop and the car leaned to the left side. The rear driver’s side tire popped and they had to pull over. 

“Un-fucking-believable,” Ashton mutters and stroms out into the rain. y/n watched him through the back window as he surveyed the damage, then he popped the trunk and took out the spare tire. 

y/n got out of the car to see if he needed any help, the rain was cold and heavy as it fell on her, she was soaked instantly.

“Get back in the car, baby, I don’t want you getting sick,” Ashton’s arms swell as he replaces the tire. 

“Do you need help?” She touches his cheek gently and his motions slow a bit. He turns his head to squint up at her through the rain.

“I got it, but thank you.”

“How about I look up a mechanic or a tire place?”

“Perfect, thank you.”

She bends down and gives him a kiss then runs back inside the car. Luckily, there’s a mechanic shop ten minutes off the highway and she tells him that when he bustles into the car. He shakes his hair like a dog getting her and the interior of the car more wet which makes her laugh. 

The mechanic said he could work on the car tomorrow morning because the tire shop he gets tires from closes early. A buddy of his owns a car rental shop and will bring over a car for them to use so they can get to their destination. 

It’s another twenty minutes for the car to be dropped off and to fill out the proper forms for a twenty-four hour rental. Ashton and y/n unload his car and load up the new one and then they’re on their way to the airbnb.

It’s still raining and the sun has just set so the house is cloaked in darkness when they finally arrive. 

“I’ll go unlock it so we can just run in all our stuff,” Ashton says and runs out into the rain.

y/n watches him waiting to see a light turn on or something but he’s running back and slams the car door behind him. His fingers rake through his hair and he’s doing a breathing exercise she knows he only does when he’s really frustrated. 

“Now what?” she asks.

“The damn pin code isn’t working on the pinpad. Probably because we’re here an hour later than when we were to arrive.”

“Can we call the owner and they reset it?”

“I hope so,” he grumbles and reaches for his phone.

She knows he’s irritated but the way he handles himself in situations like this makes her admire him more. He’s very good at making sure he’s frustrated but also understanding and wants to know the best way to fix the problem at hand, and he’s extremely polite. 

“And it’s the same pin code you sent me? Wonderful. Do you mind staying on the phone with me while I do it to make sure it works? Thank you, give me one second to get to the door.”

y/n watches him run back into the rain and after a few moments, he’s running back out opening up the trunk and back doors to get their things. They run through the rain together laughing and almost losing their footing until everything is inside. By the time their belongings are unpacked, Ashton realizes they missed the dinner reservation he made.

“Let’s try and find a fast food place or diner,” she suggests. 

So they venture out and find that most places close early and they have to buy snacks from a 24 hour drugstore. They sat in the living room eating their junk food and listening to the rain. A joint shower was taken and they were fast asleep. 

The next day was her birthday and they both slept in but woke up to sunshine. She rolls over to give him a good morning kiss. 

“Morning birthday girl,” he murmurs.

“Morning Mr. Grumpy.”

“What? I’m not grumpy.”

“Please,” she rolls her eyes. “You were cranky all day yesterday.”

“That’s because everything that could go wrong, did go wrong,” he rubs at her shoulder.

“Well, now we’re here and we’re going to make the best of it,” she kisses him again and deepens it. She swings one leg over his lap and palms over his boxers.

“It’s your birthday, angel,” he sighs arching into her touch. “I should be giving you this treatment.”

“I’m not the one who’s grumpy.” She pulls him out of his boxers, stroking him slowly with her thumb circling the tip. He sucks in a harsh breath.

“I want this weekend to be perfect,” he kisses along her jaw while his hand slips under the waistband of her pajamas. She lets out a squeal when his finger glides through her folds. 

“It’ll be perfect no matter what because we’re here together,” she kisses the center of his chest. Their hands are teasing and enticing each other simultaneously, their moans being shared between heated kisses. 

“Get all of this off, now,” he grunts tugging at her night shirt. 

With his strength, he easily flips her onto her back so he can roll his hips into her just how she likes it. Morning and birthday sex is always wonderful.

***

Something else went wrong with dinner. 

y/n ended up having an allergic reaction from part of the appetizer and they rushed to the hospital because she couldn’t breathe. She stayed there for five hours and got back to the airbnb around 11:45, her birthday was almost over and it was ruined. 

He helps her walk towards the bedroom because she’s still in a sleepy haze from the benadryl they administered her. He helped her undress and get into her pajamas. Through her haze she noticed how his shoulders slumped and the frown on his face. 

“Hey, c’mere,” she opens her arms to him. He crawls into them easily but sadly. 

“Your birthday is almost over and it’s been ruined. From the rain to the tire and now you almost died–”

“I almost didn't die, I’m okay.”

“y/n, your lips were turning blue and you could barely get a breath in. I was terrified,” he sits up on his knees cradling her face in his hands. “I wanted this birthday to be extra special for you because after my health scare I had on tour…it made me realize I don’t want any regrets in my life. I thought of you the whole time I was in the ambulance and how I want to be with you always and forever.”

“Hey, shh, shh,” she hushes his rambling, “we’re both fine. I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re not understanding,” he hangs his head then sighs. He moves off the bed and shuffles around in his suitcase then climbs back on the bed. He opens a box and holds a diamond ring between his fingers.

“Is this real?” she gasps.

“Yes, it’s real. I know you’re drowsy and I’m ruining it because of that, but I want to spend all of my days with you. I’ll make sure you feel special on every birthday and all the days between that because the day you were born is the day the love of my life entered the world. Will you marry me?”

She glances behind him and smiles. 

“Give me two minutes to think.”

He’s confused and starts rambling again about how he should have waited until tomorrow when she was more lucid. When the two minutes are up she says yes and kisses him.

“You make all of my birthdays perfect, mishaps and all. I waited two minutes so now it’s your birthday. We got engaged on both our birthdays.”

“You’re incredible,” he smiles and kisses her while slipping the ring on her finger.

Taglist: @calumance @in-superbloom @calpalirwin @karajaynetoday @wiiildflowerrr @sunshineeeluke @littledrummeraussie @suchalonelysunflower @hoodhoran @Fobodob @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt @sunshineeashton @ashtonsunflower​ @mymindwide @itjustkindahappenedreally @seanna313 @mulletcal @pandaxnienke @hellasblessed @gwynethhberdara @in-a-world-of-fandoms @blairscott

[moralesispunk]

Agent Spooky (Marcus Pike x Female Reader)

Summary: When Marcus comes across a case he can’t solve he finds help in the place he least expected it

Warnings: a little spooky but nothing too scary, there will be some liberty taken with personality to fit the dynamic of this fic but as usual with my reader inserts there will be no physical descriptions other than the clothes worn

A/n: based of this post I made and tagging @skeletoncowboys just because look I did write! (this may just be a little 2k word teasing fic and your mind can take it elsewhere or I made add to it in the future... let’s keep the door open with this one that’s made me excited for Autumn)

There have been a handful - or maybe more - of cases during Marcus Pike’s career where there had simply been no answer. These kinds of cases have been few and far between, especially since his move to the art crimes department where, unlike other departments, the crime is generally so niche and high level that it would take a lot for the local police or FBI to be left with no solution.

Those few cases where Marcus had been left with no answer, where the puzzle of evidence that he likes to put together - even if it takes a year or more to solve - just doesn’t fit, are all ones he still remembers. They don’t keep him up at night and he rarely thinks about them but he knows exactly where they have been filed six floors below to gather dust just in case any more evidence pops up and they can be reopened.

In every single case where Marcus had to pass the files down to archives, he did so after getting the same feeling in his stomach; one that gives him the go-ahead to mark it off as unresolved and closed, that is a familiar mix of frustration and agitation but mostly… acceptance. He knows that the culprit has gotten lucky and there is a piece of evidence that was just never found, one that never will be found, and it’s enough of a reassurance for him to box it up and seal it with tape. These are the kind of cases where there is something not quite right but also not quite wrong either.

In short, Marcus has never had a case that he has struggled to let go of. Never had one that drives agents close to madness as they read witness statements hundreds of times and spend day after day in the office as they scour through the evidence over and over again only to still come up short. He’s had cases he still thinks of - especially from his younger days as a field agent where an innocent person was in the wrong place at the wrong time - but none that keep his mind reeling… until now.

The one that sits sprawled out on his desk is one that he has spent every waking minute for the past seven months thinking of and there is something… something that doesn’t quite feel like any case he’s had before. His direct boss, the man who also happens to hold the title as Director of the FBI, told Marcus to let this one go after six months of no leads. “It’s not worth the time or resources,” were the words used, but Marcus had doubled down.

His fingers gripped the file tighter as he stood before the Director’s desk, his jaw ticking as he looked off to the side before trying once more. The Director finally agreed when they found a compromise of another month of Marcus and a smaller team before an additional month where Marcus - and Marcus alone - could work on the files.

Right now he was into the first week of working without a team and that meant he had only four weeks left before the case would be packed away never to be seen again and Marcus just wasn’t ready for that to happen yet. He has been in the office since six this morning and it’s almost eight, his eyes tired and head aching but his focus is lasered in on the screen as he reads the evidence he has gone over a thousand times before:

The painting was placed on the west view wall at 7:06PM on Tuesday 8 February 2022 (Exhibit 4D - CCTV footage) by Mr Warner and witnessed by Ms Mills, the artist of said painting. At 9:04PM the security guard on duty that evening, Mrs Johnson, walked by the painting that was still in place (Exhibit 4E). At 9:56PM the CCTV malfunctions and returns at 9:57PM (Exhibit 4F) and the painting is missing.

All doors were locked. There is no one other than Mrs Johnson seen on CCTV at any other points of the gallery. There are no vents in the room. No fingerprints were found on scene. There was a substance found in place of the missing painting by forensics on the morning of Wednesday 9 February (Exhibit 6C) but this has not been identified as anything known by-

His reading is interrupted when his office door opens with a bang.

He had been certain until now he had been in the office alone at this time on a Friday. He had been sure of it when he passed by the dark bullpen only half an hour ago on his way to fill up his coffee, the hairs standing up on the back of his neck as his footstep echoed around the empty hall, so the way his heart now hammers in his chest and his hand grips the edge of his desk is a tame reaction to the abrupt interruption.

Before he can open his mouth or even look away from the screen a quick set of footsteps hit against the carpet before stopping at his desk, the slap of a file hitting the dark wood following quickly after. His head stops its movement towards his unexpected guest, instead following the file as his eyes land on the bright red CONFIDENTIAL that has been printed across a report he knows all too well, one that is a condensed version of the papers that are laid across his desk right now.

He knows that if he opens it he will find three pages of evidence; sixteen of witness statements; two of photographs taken of the painting; four full excel sheets of guests who attended the gallery in the prior three weeks; and one of the initial complaints. 

Why the file on the desk and who the person is who brought it to him are two things he does not have the answer to at this moment.

Eventually he turns in his chair, his eyes looking up from the stranger’s feet to their face as he takes in every uniform violation - eight, if he counted correctly - from the dirty off-white sneakers; to the dark jeans that could maybe pass for suit trousers if the light was any lower; to the white t-shirt that has been half tucked in; to the striped shirt that has been thrown over the top and is currently creased and hanging off a soft shoulder where a raggedy brown, leather satchel bag hangs.

“Come in,” he says sarcastically, noting the lack of knock at his door before it flew open so hard the handle hit the opposite wall.

“I can help with this case; the one you’ve been stuck on.” Marcus’s eyes had only reached the stranger's mouth by the time they answered while ignoring the abrupt entrance and getting straight to the point.

“How do you know-” He stopped talking when he finally took in their whole face, watching as she fixed the leather strap that had been slipping down her shoulder before fidgeting with the plastic bag in her hand.

She was… well, she was very pretty. Marcus was sure he had never seen her before, he would remember if he had, but while half of him was stuck wide-eyed and staring at the attractive woman with kind eyes before him, the other half can’t help but be annoyed at the rude entrance when he still has so little time to review the facts of this case… again.

“I’m sorry, do you work here?” He tries again with another question, his hand reaching for the alarm button under his desk as he tries to pinpoint an FBI badge on her person.

“Yes, I work here,” she replies with a roll of her eyes and it only furthers Marcus’s annoyance, his hand falling away from the alarm as she pushes her shirt to the side to reveal a badge hooked into the belt loop of her jeans. “Archives.”

It takes a moment for his brain to catch up and he can’t help the breathy laugh that he lets out. 

“Oh… so you’re Spooky.”

Spooky as in Spooky Mulder as in the extra terrestrial believing FBI agent that most agents of his age had been hooked into watching every Friday then Sunday nights of the 90s as they dreamt of working for the FBI. They had idolized the man who ran down corridors in his baggy suits with his trench coat billowing behind him as he solved the x-file cases.

Turns out when all these avid watchers turned into adults who worked in the FBI, such an agent felt like a nightmare - Marcus had a conspiracy theorist on his last team, Deborah, who didn’t believe in the moon landing and thought the birds were spies of the CIA and while it had entertained him sometimes, most of the time he couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

Marcus Pike dealt in facts. Physical evidence he could see before him. Not “make-believe”. Not like the agent before him who had made her reputation well-known within the FBI across the country and it wasn’t a reputation that Marcus would ever want tied to his name.

She came up through the academy a good ten years after Marcus but there were already whispers of the junior agent who seemed to solve the cases the Bureau never spoke about again. She never worked well in a team and was always talking about extra terrestrial causes of missing persons cases or unexplained phenomena; cases that were just sadly those kind that couldn’t be explained because of a missing piece of vital information, Marcus would reply with a roll of his eyes when someone would talk about Agent Spooky again. 

He had never worked with her directly, had never even seen her until now because she had been put in a box room down in the basement by Archives. He had walked by her office a few times and once when the door was open a couple of inches he even peeked in before quickly walking away when he spotted a poster that said “WE ARE NOT ALONE” with a UFO print out below it. 

He had, however, had colleagues and close friends who had worked with her. She had come upon cases they had been stuck on and while they complained at first, within a few weeks the case would be solved and they would never mention it again. When Marcus asked what happened they would just wave him off and say that “something popped up” and it would just confirm to Marcus that the problem was only a piece of missing evidence. Not aliens. The very thought made him roll his eyes again.

“I see my reputation precedes me,” you finally held out your hand - the hand of your arm where the shirt sleeved had been rolled up to your elbow rather than the one that still hung unbuttoned by your wrist. You gave him your real name, one he promptly repeated.

“Listen, Agent-”

“Doctor.” You corrected him with a kind smile.

“Doctor…” Marcus sighed. “I don’t know why you’ve been sent here but-”

Again, with another interruption, you placed an evidence pack on his table. Exhibit 6C, aka the piece of evidence that was giving Marcus the uncertain feeling in his stomach that made him cling to the case for now. His eyes widened before he managed to school his expression, taking the plastic bag in his hand.

“How did you get this?”

He held it out towards you between his forefinger and thumb, his eyes looking at the black substance that no-one could seem to identify. When you didn’t answer he looked up, finding you chewing on the inside of your cheek before you shrugged. So now you’re quiet.

“I’m sorry, I really don’t have time for this Doctor-”

“But-”

“No. Sorry,” he added as an afterthought. He didn’t have time to deal with you now, not with the deadline looming closer and closer. “I’m on a tight deadline with this one and I need to spend my time on the cold, hard facts so…” Marcus stood, brushing by you as he walked to the door. “It was nice to meet you.”

You turned back away from him and he watched you pick up the evidence and file, taking another second to look at the reports fanned out across his desk as you ran your fingers along them before turning around. There was a hint of a smile on your face as you walked back across the carpeted floor to the door, stopping by his side as he looked down at you and you fixed the leather strap on your shoulder once more before speaking again.

“See you soon, Agent Pike.”

His mouth opened to reply but you were already gone, his head turning to follow as you walked back down the empty hall and out of sight. With a sigh and shake of his head Marcus walked back to his desk.

It didn’t take long for him to get lost in the pages and pages of evidence once more but with his focus on the white screen he doesn’t see the way the light in the corner flickers off and on or how his window begins to slide up bit by bit until there’s a six inch gap. His eyes don’t tear away from the screen until his office door opens with a bang again and the wind from outside spins around his office like a whirlwind, sending paper flying around.

“Shit!” 

He stands with a start, facing away from his office door as he reaches to slam the window down again and cut off the wind that causes chaos in his small office. He stares out into the night and the street is almost completely dark except for the moonlight that shows the trees that are starting to turn auburn. When he looks at the branches they don’t seem to move, no sign of the wind that had caused havoc only a moment before, and when he turns back around he almost expects you to be standing there again but all he can see is the tunnel of a dark hallway, leading towards the stairs that take him straight down to the basement.

He wants to ignore the goosebumps and the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, but as he sits back down at his desk with the door left open he can’t help that every time he looks up he finds the sign that points him down to you.

//

tags

@phoenixhalliwell @asta-lily @hb8301 @princess76179 @sarahjkl82-blog @spideysimpossiblegirl @blackmarketmummy @bison-writes  @queridopascal @sfr99 @rosiefridayrogersunday @tintinn16 @pilothusband @voteforpedro09  @dihra-vesa @frankiecatfish @wild-at-heart-kept-in-cage @transias @peoniarose @pjkimrn @fangirl-316 @niki-xie @potted–ivy @phandoz @janebby @athalien @xocalliexo @amneris21 @lavenderluna10 @iamskyereads @spacenerdpascal @mswarriorbabe80 @dumplinshee @jitterbugs927 @gracie7209 @lovesbiggerthanpride @lowlights @notabotiswear @alexxavicry @harriedandharassed @bport76 @fangirl-316 @1andthesame @pedrostories @nyfeeer @seasonschange-butpeopledont @thereisaplaceintheheart @graciexmarvel @trickstersp8 @dreamiesunny @oogaboogasphincter @mstgsmy @booksaremyyoga @bport76 @sirpascal @nyfeeer @manuymesut @alwaysdjarin @hb8301 @agingerindenial @adriiibell @darnitdraco @nolanell @buckybarneshairpullingkink @quicksilvermad @kirsteng42 @mandos-riduur-reading @dins-cyare @milispunk