#sara writes
Text
“Just” Sex
masterlist
pairing - steve harrington x fem!reader
type - fluff, angst, smut, 16+
summary - friends with benefits used to be fun for you and steve, until staying one night leads to months of being in love
warnings / includes - language, fighting, crying, suggestive, making out, not full on sex, but it’s still descriptive and touchy and feely, friends to lovers, lots of internal feelings descriptions, changes pov, during s1-2
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*gif isn’t mine*
“I better get going,” you sigh, shimming your jeans up your thighs. You button them, not bothering to zip up. You grab your blouse, slipping it onto your shoulders and snapping the middle button. You pick up your bra from his floor, stuffing it into your purse.
Steve rolls off the other side of the bed, pulling his boxers up. He puts on a pair of sweatpants, not bothering with a shirt. He peers outside his window, watching the lightning illuminate the sky, and feeling the thunder rumble his house. Rain beats down on his window, wind blowing and making an eerie whistle noise.
He looks back to you who is putting your jacket on, searching the room for your socks and shoes. He looks back at his window, biting his lip in contemplation. What kind of person would he be to let you drive in this mess?
He feels nervous to ask. You two are exclusively friends with benefits. The only time you two hang out is for sex, otherwise you two just talk at school. Both of you can carry a conversation, but you’ve never had to do it after a long night of sex. Steve knows he would feel bad letting you leave, though. Even if you said no, the least he could do is offer.
“Hey,” he says softly, walking over to you.
“Hm?” you look over your shoulder, smiling at him. You finish putting your socks on, turning around to face him. “Looking for a compliment, Harrington?”
He laughs breathily, his heart pounding in his chest. His throat becomes dry and a crease develops in the middle of his eyebrows. He looks like he’s going to pass out.
“Hey, are you okay?” you worry. “Did we go too rough?”
“No, no. It was perfect. You were perfect,” he rambles. “I was just wondering… what would you think about staying the night? Or at least until the storm passes. It’s pretty nasty out there and I’d hate for something to happen to you.”
“In case we can never have sex again?” you smirk.
He rolls his eyes with a smile. “No. That’s not what I meant. I just… don’t want to see you in an accident on the news. Especially if it’s from leaving my house.”
You want to make another joke, but you chose to stay silent. You’re shocked. Steve has always been a nice guy. He’s a good boy, to you, anyways. He’s always been respectful of you and your boundaries, puts you first — not just while having sex — and makes sure you’re feeling good and enjoying everything. But you never thought Steve would actually suggest you staying after a session. It’s not like you two weren’t friendly. It’s just never been part of the deal.
You hear the thunder and can see the lightning from his curtains. You can only imagine how slippery the roads are and how bad your visibility would be. You honestly have no choice but to stay.
“Sure,” you answer. “Thank you, Steve. You’re very kind.”
“Of course,” he smiles.
It’s so awkward between you now. You feel an urge to kiss him, to have sex with him again. That’s all you two do when you’re in his room. But your body is tired and slightly sore. Steve looks alert and awake, but you know he’s ready to go to bed as soon as the lights are off.
You know you’ll just have to endure the awkwardness until the morning, or at least until the storm is over.
“Do you have an extra toothbrush or anything?” you ask.
“Oh, yeah,” he nods quickly. “I’ll set up the bathroom for you.” He hurries past you, opening his door. “Do you want anything to eat or drink? We have chips and soda and popcorn. We also have some frozen food, too.”
You smile at his eagerness to treat you. “Can I get a soda and a water? And maybe some chips?”
“Of course. Just wait here and get comfortable. You can, uh, wear my clothes to sleep in,” he says, eyes darting to his closet.
“Okay,” you nod.
He stares at you for an extra couple of seconds before slipping out of his room and to the bathroom. You slip out of the clothes you just out on, folding them and setting them on his desk. You slide open his closet, seeing a bunch of polos and khakis. You decide to look in his drawers, finding old t-shirts and basketball shorts and sweatpants. You pick out a Star Wars tee and a pair of shorts, knowing you’ll get too hot once you go to sleep.
You hear Steve climb down the stairs, taking your chance and going to the bathroom. You’re pleasantly surprised when you see moisturizer and makeup remover. He must have stolen these from his mom, you think. You’re appreciative nonetheless.
You meet him back in his room. He’s setting a tall glass of water and a can of soda on his nightstand. He has a small bowl of pretzels and potato chips in each hand.
“I didn’t know what you liked, so I grabbed these. If you want something completely different, I can go back and —” he turns around, becoming speechless. His eyes grow wide as he looks at you in his clothes.
You smile awkwardly, putting your hands behind your back. He’s seen you naked multiple times, but you’ve never felt as vulnerable and exposed as now. His jaw is slacked, eyes scanning your outfit many times.
“I-Is it okay if I wear this?” you ask, worrying if these are the clothes he didn’t want you to wear.
“No, no, yeah,” he nods. “Totally fine.”
He’s still staring.
“What’s wrong then?”
He forces himself to snap out of his daze. He feels embarrassed and quite frankly weird. Seeing you in his clothes shouldn’t have made him drop his jaw like that. It’s just clothes, he thinks. “Nothing, nothing. Um, so, pretzels or potato chips?”
You end up falling asleep in his bed, both bowls empty and at the end of the bed. When you wake up, you’re all tangled in his covers. You’re back is facing him, your arms hugging the pillow underneath your head. Steve’s on his back, head turned the other way, but his arm is underneath your body. His hand is interlocked with yours under the pillow.
You sit up on your elbows, slowly prying your eyes open. You stretch on your stomach, flopping back down on your bed in exhaustion. You switch sides, now facing Steve. You smile at his sleeping face. He’s so peaceful and handsome. You always wondered what he’d look like in the morning. You’re happy you stayed.
You rest your head on his chest, cuddling up to his side. His bare skin is so warm, you love it. You close your eyes, drifting off to sleep. But you’re awoken when Steve speaks.
“Y/n?” he asks groggily. “What are you doing?”
You open your eyes, becoming more alert now. You sit up immediately, embarrassed when you realize you were cuddling him. It just felt so natural, you didn’t notice.
“Sorry,” you mumble. You get up, dragging your tired body to your clothes. You strip off his clothes, quickly getting dressed.
Steve rubs the sleep out of his eyes, rolling over in his bed to face you. “Where are you going?”
The look on your face worries him. You look so distressed, so regretful and guilty. He doesn’t understand why. He’s honestly too tired to know what’s on. It felt nice to hold you, though, and he wants to do it again.
“Thank you for letting me stay the night. It was really sweet.” you then flee, taking your car keys out of your purse.
Steve gets up, yawning as he walks to his window. He watches you get into your car, not wasting a moment and speeding off. He’s a little disappointed. He wanted you to stay.
You don’t talk to him for the rest of the weekend. Your body needed the time to recover, anyways. Not like he would have called you up the day after and been ready for sex, either.
“How did you do on the physics quiz?” Tina asks.
“I think I got a B, what about you?” you ask.
“I think I bombed it,” she pouts. “We can study together, you know,” you offer.
“Where would be the fun in that?” Tina grins. You roll your eyes with a smile. “Your grades, then.”
She giggles in reply, taking a bite of her apple. Her eyes wander the cafeteria, smirking suddenly. “Guess who decided to show up.”
You look over your shoulder, your stomach churning once you see Steve. You quickly look away once he makes eye contact with you.
“What’s wrong? Aren’t you happy to see him?” Tina questions.
“I am, I just… it’s always awkward seeing the person you have sex with every week at school,” you lie. Well, it wasn’t entirely a lie. It is awkward seeing your fuck buddy after you cuddled with them the whole night.
“Was he bad or something?” Tina asks. “No! No,” you shake your head. “It’s not like that.”
“Then what is it?” she pesters. You roll your eyes, huffing in frustration. Tina, like all the other girls, love drama and would stop at nothing to get it. You would have to feed her some explanation before you end up slapping her.
“He owes me money for getting take out, is all.”
“Oh! Well, why don’t you just get it from him now?”
You roll your eyes. She’s so naïve.
“Seems so simple, doesn’t it?” you remark. You take the last sip of your water, grabbing your backpack and lunch tray. You throw away your trash, slipping your backpack onto your shoulders. You walk towards the exit, needing to use the bathroom. You plug your earbuds into your walkman, blasting your music as you walk out of the cafeteria.
Steve’s eyes follow you as you turn the corner. He gets up immediately, leaving his food at the table and taking his bag. He sneaks into the girl’s restroom, waiting for you to come out of the stall.
You open the stall door, your eyes staying to the floor. You don’t even notice Steve until you look in the mirror. Your jump, your hand smacking your chest.
“Steve! What the hell!” you exclaim.
He leans against the wall, giving you a small smile. “Sorry. I didn’t realize you kept your head down while in the bathroom.”
“I do it so I don’t make eye contact with anybody and interact with them,” you snort, beginning to wash your hands.
“Well, I’m not just anybody,” Steve remarks, walking over slowly.
You look at him through the mirror, drying your hands off. You turn around and throw away the paper towel. “Are you sure about that?”
Steve scoffs, looking offended. “Is that how you talk to the guy who let you eat pretzels and chips in his bed?”
You laugh, a bright smile lighting up your face. He smiles wider at your smile. He loves how he never fails to make you smile and laugh, no matter what mood you’re in.
“That was very kind of you. No guy has ever let me do that.”
“Consider me one of a kind.”
“Well, it was nice seeing you in the bathroom. Steve. Maybe I’ll see you in class?” you hum.
“No promises,” he winks. You chuckle softly, moving to the exit, but he blocks you. You huff and glare at him. “I need to go to class. I hate being late, unlike you.”
“Wait, I want to talk,” he says. “Okay. Make it quick,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. You lean against the wall, waiting impatiently.
“Are we okay?”
His question makes you confused. “What do you mean are we okay? Yeah, of course we are.”
“Okay. I mean, you just haven’t been returning my calls and you’ve been ignoring me the whole morning. Did I do something wrong?”
“No,” you shake your head. “Nothing is wrong. We are okay.”
“Okay. I know it might seem silly that I’m worried, but I like you. And not just for being the girl who comes to my house naked at three in the morning.”
“Well, I appreciate your worry, but you forget I am only the girl who comes to your house naked at there in the morning.”
Hurt flashes through his eyes. He looks so disappointed and sad, like a wounded puppy. He recovers, though, standing up straighter and smiling. “Right, yeah. So… we’re good?”
“Yep. We are great,” you nod. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” you say, moving past him.
“Can you come over tonight?” he asks.
You smirk a little. “We had sex for two hours Friday and you miss me already?”
He shrugs with a shy smile. “What can I say? You’re amazing.”
“I’ll let you know if I can,” you say, leaving the bathroom.
Steve watches you walk away, his heart dropping to his feet. He comes out of the bathroom, his head hanging low. He can feel it in his chest that something is wrong. You’re acting different. Distant and cold. More than usual, at least. He hopes tonight will fix any bad feelings.
“Honey, are you going to Steve’s tonight?” your mom asks.
“Yeah,” you nod. “You two seem to be getting friendly,” she remarks.
“Yep, we are just friends,” you say.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“He seems like a nice boy. His parents are very generous for letting you stay the night Friday.”
“Yeah, they’re cool.”
Your mom goes silent, staring at you with a worried face. You smile reassuringly at her. “Steve and I are just friends, Mom.”
“That’s fine. And I don’t care if you two were to date. I’d just like to know.”
You nod, feeling penitent. You’ve been lying to your parents for the last six months, and it’s starting to effect you. You hate doing it, but they would never be okay with you two being friends with benefits. And if you told your mom, she would just suggest you two start dating. But you can’t. You shouldn’t.
“The moment we start dating, I’ll call you.”
She chuckles, “give it some time to breathe, honey.”
You nod again with a smile. “I’ll be home at ten.”
“Okay,” she says. “Have fun, but not too much!”
You grin, “no promises.”
You lay in Steve’s bed, breathless and sweaty. Your jaw is sore and your neck tense.
“You feeling alright?” he asks. “Yeah,” you take a deep breath in.
He puts his boxers on, sitting down next to your legs. He rests his hand on your knee, his thumb stroking your lower thigh.
“Do you want some Advil or Tylenol?”
“No, I’m okay.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” he goes silent, staring at the floor. You can see the wheels turning in his head. His eyes dart from you to everywhere else. He looks like he wants to ask you something, and you dread what questions he may have. You decide it’s time to leave now. You get up, tugging your sweatpants on and sweatshirt.
“Leaving so soon?” he asks.
You glance at the clock, seeing that it’s only 8:30. “Um, yeah. My mom made dinner for me, and I’d hate to keep her waiting.”
“Alright,” he nods. “Let me walk you to your car.”
“Oh, it’s okay,” you smile. “I want to. It’s dark,” he says, looking at his window.
You swallow hard and nod. “Okay.”
He’s never once offered to walk you to your car. He’s told you to call him when you get home to make sure you’re okay, but he usually takes a shower or gets something to eat when you leave.
It’s nice for him to offer, but it makes your stomach flip in a way you don’t want it to.
He carries your purse and a bottle of water out to your car. He even opens the door for you. You climb in, buckling your seatbelt. It’s awkward again between you two, and you hate it.
“Thanks,” you say quickly. You start your car, beginning to close the door, but he stops you. You sigh impatiently, your knee bouncing up and down. “Do you need something?”
“No, I just,” he trials off, sighing loudly. He chews on the inside of his cheek, his heart pounding as he thinks of what he wants to say. It’s on the tip of his tongue, but he’s not sure if he should say it or not. After a few moments, he decides not to. “Have a safe drive.”
Your eyes soften and you give him a kind smile. “Thank you, Steve. Have a good night. Get some sleep, okay?”
He nods and gives you a small, forced smile. “Yeah. You, too.”
You close your door, putting your car in drive and taking off.
A sinking feeling fills his chest. He hates feeling this way. He used to feel happy, satisfied, complete after sex with you. But now he feels depressed, sad, worthless. He craves for something more than just sex with you. He has the urge to hug you after you’re finished. He imagines kissing your head and holding your hand while you two watch a movie. But then he reminds himself he can’t do that. He shouldn’t. He needs to stop thinking about you like this.
When he gets back into his house, he goes up to his bathroom, looking at himself in the mirror.
“You two are just friends. Barely that. It’s just sex. Nothing more.”
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Part Two
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#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington angst#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington x reader smut#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x reader fluff#steve harrington x reader angst#stranger things#joe keery#sara.nsfw#sara writes
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In Ten Years Time (If I'm Still On Your Mind)
Word Count: 19,594
Ship: Reddie
Spotify Playlist
SUMMARY:
It’d be so much easier if they were still together. He’s tried the dating scene and nope. Absolutely the fuck not. Swiping right, left, up, down? Richie’s not interested in playing a fucking game of tetris just to date someone. He’s tried to forget about Eddie, tried to move on, tried everything he could.. Flings, casual dating, semi serious relationships and all- nothing compared. Nobody can compare to Eddie.
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CLICK HERE to read the full fic!!!
THANK YOU TO @strugglequill AND @thatmalu FOR BETA'ING I LOVE AND APPRECIATE YALL SO MUCH!!!!!!
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Read now on AO3
In honour of s1-3 being removed from the app, a vampire AU featuring our favourite pirate, Bobby McKenzie.
“Your men will drop you in a boat with just your fancy wig if I ask them to.” Bobby’s smile was as venomous as his words. Harris looked away, which only made his smirk grow.
“There is no need for that. I’m sure I can get a few pardons for-”
“My men and I don’t care about the King’s opinion on us,” Bobby snapped back, “but we aren’t a cheap crew. How much would you say your mistress is worth, lieutenant?”
#me: doesn't write anything in months#also me: here six chapters at once have fun#litg s2#litg#bobby mckenzie#litg bobby#love island the game#love island the game s2#litg season 2#love island the game season 2#litg fanfic#venus espligares#my characters#sara writes
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How To Take Care of Your To-Be Possessed Host: A Guide by Marcy Wu
Hello everyone, today I'm going to be giving you some tips on how to take care of a host that you are planning to possess! This is mainly targeted at eldritch Gods who want to conquer and/or destroy the world(s), but everyone could use these tricks and tip in my opinion.
Let's get started!
First, and foremost, (and this kinda depends on how you're going to get your host to co-operate with you) in case you stab your host in the process of trying to stop them from getting their friends home, make sure to keep the rejuvenation tank warm because your host will appreciate you for it and it will also make sure they don't end up with knee pain or make their chronic pain WORSE. Keep your dang tank warm.
Second of all, ibuprofen! Most host's best friend and especially if you had to take unconventional approaches to getting your host to BE the host, for example, the aforementioned stabbing, concussions etc. (Though I've heard you're also supposed to see a doctor for that).
Third, get a warm blanket! Even if it isn't that cold, something warm and fuzzy is sure to put both your host and yourself in the mood for some conquering!
Fourthly, if your host happens to be neurodivergent, and even if they're not, just in case, keep a bottle of Adderall on hand! If you're going to conquer the world, it'd be useful to make sure that your host doesn't keep spacing out! Or keep having intrusive thoughts about betrayal that may or may not have been committed along the way, that usually tends to mess with the focusing on conquering bit.
Last but not least! Make sure to have some treats, gotta keep up that seratonin up, ya know? Hot chocolate, ice cream, a few dozen mugs of coffee, the more variety the better!
That being said, if you guys have any other suggestions let me know ^^
Keep your hosts satisfied and healthy, and happy conquering!!
#keep the tank warm or ur host w chronic pain will eat u alive#this was so fun min if u see this ty for the inspo#amphibia#marcy wu#fanfic#sara writes#amphibia fanfic#this is so memey i love it#marcy accidentally posts this to her webcomic tumblr
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Am I absolutely obsessed with unwavering presence? Absolutely. Am I looking every day for a new chapter even if I know it’s too soon? Absolutely. Am I liking and reblogging every chapter? Hell yeah!
You are absolutely a fantastic and talented writer and I can’t wait to read all of the next chapters (and future work!)
Also could I be added to the taglist perhaps? I would really appreciate it! ☺️
For real, this is me for every like reblog, comment, DM, and ask that I get about any of my fics but especially Unwavering Presence. I love writing this so much, and to know you are all out here loving it to make my heart soar. This story is one I've been daydreaming about for months and truly has been a joy. Also, it's so kind for people to compliment my writing because with every chapter I post, I feel like it's utter trash, and people will hate it. (Imposter Syndrome sucks real bad!)
I can't thank you all enough, and of course, you can be added to the tag list! Thank you so so much. Chapter 11 might be here closer than you think 😘 but here is a gif that will encompass chapter 11, the vibe. If you will.
Oh and three more for what's to come in later chapters
#sara rambles#sarawritesstories#sara writes#unwaveringpresence#cassian x reader#cassian acotar#acotar fanfiction#cassian x you
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Have you been writing any of the fics that you put in polls sometimes? They sound so fun! If so could you share any?
ooooh yeah i love when ppl ask me about my writing :)
here's a bit of the newest one!
Tommy kisses him. Tommy kisses him, and his lungs finally feel like they're not too big for his chest. He does his best to not float away, pulled by the feeling of his lips on his, his fingers on his chin like a guiding hand, how broad his waist feels underneath Buck's fingers.
But after he elatedly accepts to go out on a date with him, after Tommy's closed the door, his laugh still trailing behind it, he lets himself drift like a fluffy cloud on a sunny day– weightless and bathed in warmth.
i'm avoiding responsibilities ask me anything (weewoo show related, pertaining any other fandom i am in, abt my life, etc etc)
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title: gold star
summary: Sam goes to college. Paulina… also goes to college. They're being very normal and very cool and very totally regular people about it. Obviously.
(It's a twelve-hour drive from NYU to Amity Park. A lot can happen in twelve hours.)
rating: M
word count: 5000~
genre: roadtrip mutual pining
notes: i was a nineteen year old queer in 2011, i know what i'm talking about here
1 / 1
AO3
—
.
.
.
.
.
So. The thing is.
Gas is expensive. That's the thing. Gas is expensive. Which isn't actually something Sam thinks about a lot, what with the whole inventor-great-grandpa-money thing. But gas is expensive, and Amity Park is a twelve-hour drive from New York on a good day, and Sam's parents would rather buy her love than legitimately pay her any attention, so she's got a really fast car that she can barely drive and pretty much zero applicable navigational skills.
Getting home is a nightmare, is what Sam is saying. She's not enough of a douche to take the helicopter, okay? She's trying not to kill the planet!
Which—okay, that's exactly why she's in this predicament in the first place.
Paulina's lounging in the driver's seat of Sam's car, slouched back like she does this all the time, mirrored aviator sunglasses slid down her nose. Her hair is pulled back from her face into the most severe high ponytail that Sam's ever seen, and she's in tiny shorts and one of Sam's wrinkled old thrifted-plaid shirts. She might not be wearing a bra.
Sam hates her whole life. No one should look that good before the sun is up.
G-d, straight girls are the worst.
READ THE REST
#danny phantom#sam manson#paulina sanchez#sara writes#sam x paulina#they're in love your honour but sam's stupid about it <3#danny phantom fanfiction
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Hi, I see that you take sick fic requests for Alhaitham, mind if I share an idea?
so you see, I feel like Kaveh gets sick wayyy more than alhaitham seeing his thinner and more likely to overwork self, so alhaitham always has to take care of him and act reluctant about it. But what if one day, instead of Kaveh being sick, it’s suddenly alhaitham? At first alhaitham tries to keep it a secret and sleep it off because he doesn’t feel like going to the birmistan(which is exceptionally stupid because he has an insanely high fever, migraine and fatigue), but Kaveh notices the signs of illness, from the lack of response to the dizzy stumbling to the fact that Alhaitham is locking himself in his room instead of reading some book in the living room and shitting on kavehs decisions. Wouldn’t it be fun to see Kaveh awkwardly try to care for Alhaitham, especially when Alhaitham is stubborn as fuck, secretly worries that Kaveh might catch his illness and it’s normally the other way round?
feelings will be realised and Alhaitham will melt into his bed idfk
Hiiiiiii! OMG I LOVE THIS SO MUCH
Now I'm imagining this entire scenario like maybe Kaveh is recovering from something and Al Haitham picks it up from him and then Haitham's just like "no i'm fine you do me a favor and handle yourself"
And boy yes, Kaveh's not good at looking after people but for Haitham boy, is he gonna try. He hates seeing his grumpy husband suffering even if he won't admit it T-T
I'll definitely add this idea to my list, thank you!!
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Sara Teasdale, from The Collected Poems of Sara Teasdale; "Song,"
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𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓
synopsis: how they react when they find out you’ve never had a date on valentine’s day
based on the prompt: “you’ve never had a valentine’s date?”
characters: diluc, kaeya, mona, zhongli, xiao, kujou sara, kazuha, itto, tighnari, cyno, and childe x gn! reader (separately)
warnings: fluff, a bit of angst in some of them, these are meant to be pre-relationship but you can interpret them how you want
notes: releasing this a day early because i know i’ll forget about it tomorrow lmao. also i was gonna do more for this than just a bullet scenario, but then i realized there was only like a week left until valentine’s when i wrote this so i couldn’t do anything big 😭 but i did really like this prompt so enjoy!
diluc:
his facial expression contorts into one of confusion as he wipes the inside of the glass in his hand
you’re sitting in front of him, legs crossed one over the other as they dangle over the barstool you’re on. your head rests in your hand innocently, as if what you had just said hadn’t affected you at all
you’ve never had a valentine’s date?
no. diluc just can’t accept it, at least, that’s what he decides as he puts the glass down and starts to remove his apron
before you know it, his hands are gripping yours, pulling you out the door and into the now sunset painted city you called your home
valentine’s wasn’t over yet, and diluc was sure as hell going to make sure you got that date
kaeya:
he laughs, his smile wide and his eyes teasing as he blinks through his tears
but then he sees the way you grimace and your eyes look anywhere but at him. he sees a sense nervousness and embarrassment wash over every inch of your face
he feels awful
kaeya hadn’t meant anything bad by his laughter. truthfully, he thought you were joking with him because, how could someone so utterly beautiful in every which way, someone so full of life, someone so perfect never have been asked on a date on valentines?
you were all he had ever wanted and more, and yet you weren’t even his
apologies come flying out of his mouth for a solid two minutes before you assure him it’s okay and, as expected, that stupid smirk appears on his face again
his hand is latching onto yours as he leans in close, asking you to join him on a date so he could make it up to you
and although he seems rather nonchalant on the outside, his heart is beating rapidly on the inside, begging you to accept so he could finally make you his
mona:
her mouth falls open at the sound of your response to the question
then it shuts…and then it opens again
meanwhile, you have to keep yourself from laughing too hard because of the way she currently resembles a fish
she huffs as she ignores your muffled laughter and tosses the pen she had been writing with to the side and gathers her papers on her desk
you’re still laughing, but her face is as serious and determined as ever
and before you know it, you were getting dragged out of her room and into yours. and your best friend tells you to get ready, as glammed up or as comfortable as you want
she was going to take you out on the best damn date of your life and maybe, just maybe, finally confess her feelings to you
zhongli:
his eyes widen in shock and he immediately sets his tea down to clasp his hands together
he’s silent, thinking carefully about what to say to your response to his question. honestly, he looks like someone had just murdered his grandma
deep down, he wants to ask why
but he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings or make you feel bad never having a date on valentine’s
his hand aches to reach for yours and hold it tight in his. secure it with all his adoration and love for you, make you realize he’d do anything to take you on a date — valentines or otherwise
slowly, his eyes reach back up to meet yours and he stands, unclasping his hands and extending one out for you to hold
“if you do not mind, i would like to have the pleasure of being your first valentine’s date. and, perhaps if you enjoy it, you would consider allowing me to take you out again.”
xiao:
he scoffs — why were you even telling him this anyway? he didn’t even like valentine’s day so what does this have to do with him?
yet, he doesn’t miss the way his heart seems to skip a beat before pounding furiously against his chest
was he angry? upset? emotional? sad? he wasn’t sure but, whatever it was, it was not a good feeling
he masks whatever emotion it was and displays the most neutral expression he could come up with
because, no, xiao is not jealous and most definitely does not care
yet, as much as the adeptus claimed to hate valentine’s day, he couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit interested if it means he gets to spend the day with you
his eyes avoid yours and a small blush crosses his face as he offers a proposition:
“if you would like…maybe you could spend the day with me?”
kujou sara:
her arms cross as she leans sideways against the wall, staring directly at you as she scoffs
“who wouldn’t want to take you out on a date?”
shit
the general definitely did not mean to say that out loud
suddenly, she’s standing upright and stuttering left and right as you stand in front of her in shock
her hands are waving in front of her face sporadically as she desperately tries to explain herself
but then your silence turns into laughter and it feels like the world around her completely stops as you reassure her that it’s okay and that you’re actually quite flattered
embarrassed as she is, sara sighs and stares at anywhere but you, “i know it’s your favorite, so meet me at uyuu restaurant at 7 tonight. please don’t make me regret this.”
kazuha:
he offers a gentle smile and covers your hand in his own
“that’s okay, neither have i.”
you’re quick to ask him why, but he’s quick enough to ask you the same
you’re dumbfounded, but argue that you asked him first. and he explains, saying that he’s always preferred the wind and spending his time in nature rather than out on silly dates
and your eyes loose their shine a little, not only upset because you have to talk about the fact that no one had ever asked you on a valentine’s day before, but also because it meant you likely wouldn’t have the chance to ever go out with him
and he notices, because that’s just how kazuha is
“just because i said i don’t prefer to go on dates, doesn’t mean i don’t enjoy them. in fact, i would greatly appreciate it if you would join me at chinju forest later today. perhaps we could have a picnic and enjoy the scenery together?”
itto:
he gasps loudly, almost as if he’s in a horror movie and the killer just found him
it scares you at first, thinking that his sudden expression was not in reaction to your response, but then you realize itto was in fact reacting to you
it’s just his dramatic nature
his hand is over his heart and his eyes are shut, acting as if he’s in pain
“oh no! no, no, no! this just won’t do!”
and you laugh whole heartedly at him. a smile irresistibly tugs at your lips and your eyes are all wrinkled
and when you recover, itto’s looking at you with the brightest, most fondest look you think you’ve ever seen in your life
and it hits you: he was trying to make you laugh so that you wouldn’t feel bad
and then he’s all serious, but you can tell he’s really just nervous, “uh, hey listen, i can take you out…but only if you want! not that you have to or anything — no, no that would be uh…yeah!”
tighnari:
“valentine’s day is a rather trivial holiday. there’s no need to be so upset about never having had a date.”
your eyes fall to your hands as he says those words. not that he sees of course, seeing as he’s turned around at his desk, writing away at some papers
“yeah, no! i get it, you’re right,” you say. but your words don’t match your tone, and you hate how quick tighnari is to pick up on it
he sighs and turns around, still fiddling with the pen in his hand, but you don’t meet his eyes
you knew he didn’t mean it in a bad way, that’s just who he is, but you couldn’t help the hurt you felt when he spoke
and then he sighs again. although, this time a small, but genuine, smile graces his expression, “if a date is what will make you happy, then i would happily take some time off from work.”
cyno:
he’s hesitant to respond
not because he finds it appalling that you’ve never had a date on valentine’s day, but because he’s simply not well versed in relationships or emotional comfort in general
his eyes stay focused on the ground and his fingers tighten against the barrel of his polearm
he’s so quiet that you’re not even sure he heard your response
and he continues to think for a few more moments before huffing and just saying everything outright
overthinking wasn’t the mahamatra’s style
so he asks you out to dinner that night. not out of pity either, just simply because that’s what cyno wanted
sure he wasn’t a fan of the holiday, but his feelings for you are certainly enough to make him want to celebrate it
childe:
his hand is intertwined with yours as you walk together down the streets of liyue
“wait so, you’ve never had a valentine’s date before? as in, this is literally your first one ever?”
you don’t respond. instead, you stare at the buildings around you and all the other couples adorning the different restaurants and gift shops
childe isn’t stupid. he sees the way you get uncomfortable and instantly regrets making the comment
he speaks softly, “i’m honored, you know? besides, you couldn’t get a better first date than me.”
you’re slapping his arm in a matter of seconds, trying to hold back your laugh, but acting angry nonetheless
but then you’re laughing together and you realize, yeah, it really couldn’t get any better than him
#genshin#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact fanfiction#genshin valentine’s#diluc x reader#kaeya x reader#mona x reader#zhongli x reader#xiao x reader#kujou sara x reader#kazuha x reader#itto x reader#tighnari x reader#cyno x reader#childe x reader#that last line in childe’s pained me to write#you really can do a lot better than him 😭
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okay so I did add xavier thorpe to my taglist. Idk if I’ll really write a lot, but I am currently writing a fic now abt him! So just in case I ever do post, you can add yourself here!
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Okay yall. I have roughly 4-6 scenes I gotta implement in ITYT (Richie’s pov to grow as we go) . We are already 3k words LONGER than grow as we go and I still have a bit to go.
IF this all goes well.. IF.. I would LIKE to have this done tonight. It FOR SURE will be finished by the end of this week if not (bc being an adult sucks and I have work and I have to get my car fixed in a few days)
#reddie#richie tozier#eddie kaspbrak#my writing#sara writes#ITYT#in ten years time#grow as we go#GAWG
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WIP whenever
I was tagged by @definitelynotagentm @moderarato and @nabulsi in these past two weeks and I finally have something to share! Since I was tagged by several people, I have both fanfic snippet and a sketch. I’m not tagging anyone because I will try to get up to date with all the tag games I neglected and that would be too much for everyone involved.
He picked it up and examined it in the dim light. The weather had left a mark on it, darkening it in some spots. Still, Bobby was sure that the band was actually gold of an intricate design, topped by a green gemstone, probably a green sapphire, given its pristine condition. He doubted the stranger dropped it, and, most likely, consciously left it behind. Bobby did value the dramatic timing, but would appreciate a clearer message.
Was writing about pirates a good idea? Probably no, but here we are. Under the cut, for a pride treat, Jake and Rohan, from season 1 of LITG
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Unfinished Wip
so i started this back in like. july and never ended up finishing. but i do wanna show it, so here it is, spam me w questions about this au i miss it</3
TW: alcohol and blood
~
20th May 2019
New York, USA
Spring, to Marcy, has always seemed like the seasons were walking a tightrope, trying to strike a perfect balance between the damp, chill wind that kissed your cheeks as it blew past you and the humid, heavy atmosphere, almost enough to be suffocating, but not quite. She knew the scales would tip soon enough, that the humidity would overpower the chill and pass into summer, but for now, she simply enjoyed the weather as she strolled down the street, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
A few strides later, she stood in front of a bookstore that had come to be her favourite place in the past few months.
The Dream House wasn't anything special, in fact, it was quite underwhelming. It was a small bookstore, sequestered in the middle of two other buildings and aside from the hand-painted sign that alluded to the store's existence, it was plain enough that it could go completely unnoticed.
The bell gave a short, shrill ring as she opened the door, smiling, ready to find her way to the counter, trying to sneak up on Anne. She never succeeded, but that didn't mean she couldn't try. But she stopped in her tracks when she noticed that one of the beanbags was occupied today.
The blonde seated on it - or rather, sinking into it, a book open in her lap - stared at her, eyes narrowed, more in confusion than anything else. Sasha Waybright pursed her lips as she sat up a little straighter.
"Have I seen you before?" Sasha asked, waving her hand around before muttering," déjà vu ."
Marcy smiled. Just because she got lucky once didn't mean she'd get lucky every time. Besides, she was used to this song and dance, and so was Anne.
"Marcy Wu," she said, bowing a little. She didn't think she imagined the pleasant flush that coloured her cheeks. "At your service."
"Marcy Wu?" Sasha echoed, her eyes snapping to Anne, who was lost in the sea of shelves, placing books on them. "Is this-"
"Yup," Anne nodded, smiling. Marcy couldn't count how many times Anne had introduced Marcy as her girlfriend, partner, but her eyes always lit up the same way.
Sasha's composure changed as she stood up and walked up to Marcy, stopping mere steps away from her. She looked her up and down and then smiled, not quite sincere, but it was enough for Marcy.
"Nice to meet you, Marcy," Sasha said and then turned to Anne. "About time."
Anne simply shook her head and continued arranging the books on their shelves.
"Well, I'll be on my way," Sasha said, turning away fast, book in hand, waving to Anne, before turning to Marcy with a sweet, slightly unnerving smile.
"Don't be a stranger, Marcy."
Not likely, thought Marcy, knowing that the moment she'd walk out that door, she wouldn't remember Marcy. She remembered when that had been like a sharp pain every time like spikes were digging into her. Now it was a dull ache, the kind you never really got used to but one you just had to live with.
"Not a library!" Anne called, poking her head out, and snorted as she received a particularly rude middle finger in the air as she flung the door open and left. Anne sighed, though Marcy saw a smile tugging at her lips.
"One day," Marcy said, crossing over to Anne. "One day, I'll get her to like me."
"Best of luck," Anne said, doing her best to hold back a grin as she reached for Marcy's hand. Marcy frowned.
"You're supposed to be on my side," Marcy said, pouting but smiling a second later as Anne laughed.
"Always am," said Anne, squeezing her hand.
"So, where are we off to today?" Marcy asked.
Anne grinned.
Over the years, she'd learnt to read smiles. Some were for the sake of show, vanishing the second they were sure no one could see them. There were the sad smiles that were like weak streams of sunlight breaking through a cloudy day. And then there were the wild grins, the wide smiles, that covered your whole face and reached your eyes, crinkling the skin beneath them.
Anne's was the third one.
"It's a surprise," she said, wiggling her eyebrows.
Marcy couldn't wait to find out what it was.
21st May 1719
Hsinchu, Taiwan
Bad days warrant rainy, cloudy skies. They warrant horrible weather that should reflect the hollowness Marceline feels, that reflects that the world has turned upside down.
But nature does not seem to care for her nor her days, and carries on, the trees murmuring amongst themselves, dancing as the wind snakes through them, almost mischievous. The sky is clear save for a few puffy white clouds and the blazing sun.
It's a perfect day.
It should have been a perfect day.
And on what should have been a perfect day, she runs.
She runs as far as her legs will take her, ignoring that it's not far enough, it'll probably never be because her legs are beginning to tire.
Not yet, she pleads. Please, just a little longer.
She's a liar, and her biggest victim is herself.
How many more lies?
When she can't run anymore, when she falls to the ground, she heaves as she rests her forehead against the hard ground, the gravel and soil digging into her skin. There on the ground, she prays.
Prays to whatever god is listening.
"Please," she whispers. "Please, help me."
She doesn't know who listens, but she does know none of them answer.
She doesn't notice the sun dip in the distance. She doesn't notice the clouds turn pink, then orange, then grey as the stars come out, shining above her like tiny little embers of fire.
She doesn't notice when it gets dark.
She just keeps begging.
"Please."
"My dear," a voice says, and she bites her tongue to keep herself from screaming. "Begging is not a credit to one such as you."
She looked up, trying to get back as she did.
"Whatever you do," Andrias' voice rang in her ears. "Don't pray to the gods who answer after dark."
Shit.
Darkness swirls around her and, at her shock, makes a sound that sounds an awful lot like laughter. Laughter that glitches and echoes.
"Would you prefer a form you'd recognise better?"
She feels a searing pain in her forehead and shuts her eyes, and a moment later she hears that voice again.
"Is this adequate?"
Through her blurry vision, she registers what she thinks is her... ma?
She's almost certain that it's Olivia, but before she can confirm, the darkness changes again.
"How about this?"
Mom?
But Yunan disappears in another gust of wind, and when it settles back down, Marceline's mind is screaming at her, to run, to do anything.
"Ah! I think I like this one."
A woman stands in front of her, and Marceline gapes at her and swallows a metallic taste in her mouth. Did she bite her tongue that hard?
The woman, she...it can't-
But whatever lie Marceline tries to tell herself, it falls flat against the obvious truth in front of her. The woman looks exactly like the woman Marceline has seen in her dreams, the one she draws over and over and over again.
The woman smiles, slow and sweet, and for a moment, Marceline is lost in it, lost in the dream of what she's longed for for so long. The same curly brown hair, the same warm brown eyes.
"You called on me," the woman says. "Why?"
Marceline swallows hard.
"I-I need your help."
"Help? I'm a god, Marceline Wu, not someone running a charity organization." The woman sneers, ignoring the way Marceline flinches at her name. "I deal in kind, not in "please"s. Everything has a price. And what is it that you want?"
"I want to be free," Marceline said, relieved at the easy answer. "Free to learn, free to read, free to explore without any constraints, without anything holding me back." She held up her ring, still tied around her neck." In exchange for this."
The ring was wooden, carved by her mom, Yunan. It had been a wedding gift to her ma, but when Marceline had been born, her ma had strung it on a chain and placed it around her neck.
The carvings on it were of flowers she didn't recognise but she was familiar with the carvings on the underside of it.
Thi gong thia gong lang.
God loves stupid people.
She remembered frowning when she'd first read it and asked her parents. Her mom had laughed until she'd gotten a belly ache, but her ma had explained.
"Never take proverbs at face value," she'd told her. "They never mean what they seem to. And neither does this one. It means that God loves people the same way a mother loves her child."
And now, she held it forward, the last possession she had. She flinched when the woman laughed, her voice reverberating through Marceline's bones.
"I must say, Marceline, I expected more than this dull request and meaningless trinkets. If that is all you want, I say no."
She casts the ring aside and turns to smoke.
Marceline almost falls forward as she tries to catch at the hem of the woman's dress, her hands catching at nothing but shadows slipping from her.
"Wait," she calls out. "What- what will you have of me to grant me my request?"
The darkness circles back to her, surrounding her.
"What will I have of you?" It hisses, all the sweetness gone, metallic again. "I am the night, I am darkness itself, and I've always dealt in just one currency. What I will have of you is your soul."
"No," Marceline says, standing up. Her legs feel like they're on fire. "You don't want just my soul, do you?"
It's a shot in the dark, but when the darkness shakily transforms back into the woman, she knows she's hit the mark.
"What do you mean?"
Marceline almost smiles.
"I mean that you can't really sustain a physical form for too long, can you? It takes a lot of energy, almost too much and in the end, for hours, maybe even days, you're a wisp of nothing but shadow and smoke. What you want is a body you can use."
Its edges bristle, and now, she does smile and continues.
"And if you grant my wish. You can have my body when I don't want it anymore."
The woman smiles and pulls Marceline close, into a hug, and for a moment she thinks it's a tender gesture until she feels a pain in her back, running the course of her spine.
"You drive an interesting bargain, Marceline. I accept."
The last thing she feels before she falls deep into unconsciousness is the ground beneath her as she falls.
21st June, 2018
New York, USA
In the dark, as the sky is enveloped with wind and rain, a girl with a broken heart walks down the street, hand bleeding from the bottle that accidentally cut her hand, the make-shift bandage that was a strip torn from her shirt she'd used to wrap it almost soaked.
Anne can feel the numbness set in, but it does nothing to ease the pain. If anything, it makes it worse.
God, maybe she isn't drunk enough yet. She shouldn't have left, especially when the bartender had taken one look at her and declared that drinks were on him. She should have been suspicious, but she didn't care enough to.
She fumbles with the lock as she reaches her apartment door, shoving it open and slamming it shut as she throws the keys away.
She enters the bathroom, forcing down the bile she feels rising in her throat. She opens the tap, letting her palm soak through before she realises that she should probably take the cloth off. She does, and a dull, distant part of her brain registers the sting in her palm. She takes a bottle of antiseptic - or maybe it is sanitiser - and applies it to the wound.
When she glances up, her eyes fall on her reflection, and everything in her seems to recoil at the sight of her own face.
You're not enough.
That's what everyone has told her her entire life, just in different ways.
You can do better, sweetie.
We're still proud of you.
(Still...No you're not.)
Not you.
(Not me?)
There’s just something missing.
(Missing…)
It’s just …
(Who you are.)
I just don’t see us ending up together.
I’m sorry.
We’re not in the same place.
We can’t help who we fall in love with.
(And who we don’t.)
You deserve better.
(No, I don't.)
Let’s stay friends.
I don’t want to lose you.
It’s not you.
I’m sorry.
Sorry.
Sorry.
It's too much. It's just too much, always has been. Ever since she was younger, it's always been too much, and she's been labelled emotional, sensitive, a fool, immature, but she knows none of those words fit. She knows something is wrong, and that's not it.
Anne steps back and digs her hand into the bottle, but the next second she lets out a scream as she hurls the bottle at the mirror. Her reflection fractures as the mirror transforms into a rainfall of tiny glass shards, many of which launch towards her, leaving faint scratches.
She heaves for a moment before she drops to the floor, water still flowing, as she curls into herself, hiding her face among her knees.
26 and still no direction.
She'd counted and asked herself to take a drink.
Take a drink if you're not the right fit.
Not the right focus.
Not the right child.
Not the right time.
Not the right job.
Not the right past.
Not the right present.
Not the right future.
Not the right you.
Not you.
She knows, damn it.
She knows she's not enough.
"What do you want?"
She doesn't even bother flinching, convinced that she's hallucinating. A woman stands in front of her, smiling at her, like Anne's entire world doesn't feel like it's fracturing right in front of her.
"What do you want?" she repeats. "In this moment, right now?"
"To be happy," Anne mumbles, more to herself than the woman and doesn't think the woman has heard her, but she smiles.
"Only you can give yourself that," she says. Anger rises in Anne, bubbling over all the misery. She steadies herself up, slightly swaying.
"You asked what I want, not what I can give myself," she growls. "I can't give myself anything, because I know I'll never get it." She's shouting now, and she should stop, but she can't, can't stop the flood of words that rush out now that the damn has finally broken. "I don't know what they fucking want from me, I try to be enough, be happy, but it's never enough, and," her voice breaks. "I'm just so tired of falling short. I'm so tired."
She slumps against the wall.
"It hurts."
"Anne," the woman says, stepping a little closer. "Look at me."
Anne almost hisses at her, but she's too tired, so when the woman lifts her chin with her hand, she lets her.
"You're perfect."
And Anne has to laugh at that, despite the soft silky voice.
"You'd think people would be better at lying."
The woman shakes her head.
"Pain can be beautiful-"
"Like hell, it can."
"-and," she says as if Anne hasn't spoken. "It can transform, create."
"I don't want to be in pain," Anne croaks, all the energy drained from her. "I just..."
"You want to be loved."
"Yes," she whispers.
"I can give you that."
"It's that easy?"
"If you're willing to pay, yes."
"I hate to tell you, but I'm pretty broke right now."
A grin, like it's been slashed open with a knife.
"Not that kind of payment. The one thing every human has, what every hero trades to the devil."
"My-my soul? I don't even believe in-"
"Then you have nothing to lose."
She stands there, staring for a long, long time, maybe it was minutes, maybe hours, maybe even days. She doesn't know.
All she knows is in the end, there is just one thing to say. One, simple word.
"Yes."
20th May, 2019
New York, USA
What Marcy'd always loved most about cities was that they never go quiet. The noise dampened in the night, but it never really went quiet the way it does in the rural areas. If she was being honest with herself, she liked it because it reminded her of home.
She glanced at the time as she nestled herself in blankets. It was too hot for it, but it was comfortable. Really, she was allowed this, at least.
She reached for Anne's hand as she rested her head, yelping as she drowned in the pillows for a moment. She heard Anne laugh and pull her closer. Marcy smiled and let her eyes wander back to the time.
11:56. 20th May.
Her insides twisted as she felt fear claw at her stomach. The world seemed to fade away, and somewhere far off, she heard the clock fall from her hand.
Somewhere far off, she heard Anne ask, "Hey, Marce, you okay?"
Calm down. They haven't shown their face in 40 years.
They're not going to unless you call on them.
Her hand went to her neck, the wooden ring safely nestled on her clavicle. She was both bitter and grateful for it.
"Marcy."
Her head snapped towards Anne, tousled hair and a worried face. Marcy shook her head and pulled Anne in, burying her head in Anne's shoulders.
"What's up, dude?"
The only words Marcy managed to choke out were, "Anniversary tomorrow."
Anne's hands tightened around her, and she rested her chin on Marcy's head. A new panic seized Marcy. They couldn't find out about Anne.
She couldn't let them take the one good thing she still had, the only good thing.
"We won't-"
"You have to leave," Marcy said, pulling back. Hurt registered on Anne's face before she schooled it back to worry. "I can't- they can't-"
"I know," Anne said, taking Marcy's hands in her own. "But they're a creature of the night, right? We have until then." Marcy opened her mouth to protest but couldn't find the words. "Listen, if you want me to, I won't follow, I'll leave, but just for the day, as long as the sun is up, let me be with you."
Marcy felt herself nod.
Anne smiled and pulled Marcy down onto the bed. She kissed her forehead and muttered.
"Sleep."
But she stayed awake the entire night, letting Anne's snores and the noises outside distract her.
Only when the sun came up did she feel herself drift off.
22nd June, 2018
New York, USA
Anne wakes up, and her first instinct is to wince at the sudden pain in her hand. When she looks at it, there is a clean bandage neatly tied around her palm, and a watch she could've sworn isn't hers.
She unclips it and studies it. It looks ancient, something her mom might've worn, silver and gold-flecked. Underneath the dial, were two words.
Live well.
She snorted.
Sure, why not?
She massages her head and puffs out a breath. God, maybe she shouldn't have drunk that much. And that weird fever dream after...
She leaves the watch on her nightstand and makes her way to the kitchen, but stops when she hears the doorbell ring.
She frowns, opening it and almost being thrown to the ground as Sprig and Polly hug her.
"Guys, what-"
"We heard about Sasha," Polly says, squeezing her tight until Anne has to flail her arms to gesture that she does, in fact, need to breathe.
When they let go, apologising, the weight of what they've said settles in.
"What happened with Sasha."
She hates how it still makes her stomach turn. She'd known that what they had wasn't right, it wasn't good for both of them, not as they were. What she hadn't known was how much it would hurt being told that.
Maybe it would've hurt less if Sasha had screamed, and made a scene. But all she'd done was do her best not to cry and tell Anne that they should end things.
That they are and will always be friends.
"I still love you, just not. I just can't love you like that."
It had felt like someone had been squeezing her heart.
#i miss themmmmm#marcy wu#anne boonchuy#marcanne#sashanne#implied cuz they broke up</3#amphibia fanfic#sara writes#amphibia#tw: alcohol#tw: blood#yulivia are marcy's moms<3
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Just a few here for the ask game hope you don't mind I'm just a curious fan who's scared to come off of anon - 🐝🍅🏜️❄️🍄🥤🥑
Well, hello, sweet and curious anon!
I'm happy you're here!
🐝- tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them.
@hellodarling1357 is the best hype woman around, and truly, I feel like she spreads light in the acotar fandom. She is also a saint for all the story ideas I flood her inbox with. send all the love to Marley, and she deserves it!
🍅 give yourself some constructive criticism on your own writing.
I am the worst proofreader. I rarely proofread my fics when I really should. I am trying to work on that, though, and feel like there is a small improvement.
🌵 share the link to a playlist you love
I did not make this playlist, but it's one of my favorites for when I'm in a Disney mood and the name makes me laugh.
❄️ What's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?
I have a tamlin fic floating in my head where my oc is an avid reader and get thrown into the acotar world and falls in love with Tamlin. I would love to write it, but if I couldn't, I would want @skyfallscotland to write it because her writing is just fantastic, and she would make a really wonderful OC for it
🍄 share a head fanon for one of your favorite ships or pairings.
Switching over to the CW flash universe I am a huge fan of SnowWells (specifically Harry) I could see Caitlin wanting to cuddle, he refuses but when he see she's sad he just scoops her in his arms and cuddle. (Because he would never want to make her sad).
🥤 recommend an author or fanfic you love
Okay hopping on the love train
Tiny Toes CassianX Reader Fic by @hellodarling1357
Any thing by @readychilledwine but if you want specific or Kink series she did in February Here or The Pieces of You Series
Again Anything from @b00kdiary The plus size rep is *Chef's kiss*
🥑 you accidentally killed, somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help?
I'm strictly answering this based on vibes. @acourtofwhatthefuck seems like the person who would do that. And @hellodarling1357 again
Thank you for asking!
Ask Game Here
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for mel @emeraldcas' 30 for 30! happy birthday dear, i hope you had a wonderful day <3
911 - buddie - 2.6k
prompts: muppets/romance/gifts/secrets
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Christopher loves Kermit the frog.
"I'm starting to think he loves him more than me", Eddie says one morning, sitting dejectedly on the loft's couch with an adorable little pout.
Buck laughs to himself and keeps browsing the internet for Kermit-themed stuff, hoping to find the perfect gift for Chris' birthday next week. "You know that's not true, Eddie."
"You don't know that", he says, pressing his finger to Buck's chest, and he attempts not to freak out about it. Ever since he accepted that he's been head-over-heels in love with Eddie for ages, every little touch makes him scream mentally.
Buck sits up a little straighter, gently pushes Eddie's hand off. He's so close he can see the freckle under his eye, perfectly placed like a little star where the universe made it to be.
"Eds. You're his dad. Nothing will ever win over that."
He just grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Okay", Buck says, turning to face him fully. "What's really going on?"
Eddie's incredibly brown eyes meet his. He sighs, admitting defeat. "I just... miss him, you know? I guess it's stupid. I mean, I see him every day. But it feels like—"
"You're not hanging out much?"
"Yeah. Is it my fault? Am I at work too much? Am I too tired to spend time with my son?"
Well, Buck is having none of this. It's completely unacceptable. So, butterflies be damned, he places his hand on Eddie's left shoulder, letting his thumb slide slightly above the collar of his dark blue t-shirt, just sitting there against his skin. He knows Eddie doesn't ask for comfort nearly enough, despite the fact that he deserves it more than anyone. If Buck has to be the one to give it to him, he'll be more than happy to do so for the rest of his life.
"Listen to me. You're doing nothing wrong, okay? Trust me. Chris is just— growing. The love is still there, he just wants to discover some stuff by himself. He needs to do his own thing, hang out with his friends. But he'll never love anyone or anything more than you. I promise."
Eddie deflates under Buck's touch. "Okay. Okay, you're right. It's gonna be fine. I knew this would happen eventually, it just... it's a bit sad, is all."
Buck frowns sympathetically. "I know, man. But hey, if you ever want some company when Chris isn't around, you know you have your own friends too, right? We can get a couple beers, some pizza, watch a shitty horror movie that makes us laugh..."
The last of Eddie’s worry is replaced by one of those blinding smiles that Buck can never help but mirror. "That actually sounds fun. I'll take you up on that offer later", he says cheerily, before they're interrupted by the first bell of the morning.
Eddie's smile stays plastered on Buck's mind for the rest of their shift.
It’s not until Wednesday, two days later, that Eddie reminds Buck of their conversation. They’re working out before the start of their afternoon shift, and Buck is trying with every bit of his might not to stare at Eddie’s arms while he does push-ups. He’s really, really trying.
They finish their sets and grab their stuff, walking towards the locker room, when Buck remembers something. “Hey, I haven’t told you! I found the perfect gift to give Chris on Monday”.
Buck watches Eddie muster his best bitchface in real time, trying not to giggle like an idiot, because how can anyone be that cute?
“Let me guess. It’s something to do with Kermit?”
Buck adds a bounce to his step and grins. “Yup. But I’m not telling you what. You’ll have to see it when Chris opens it.”
Eddie rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I’m so excited.”
Buck can’t hold it anymore. He laughs until his belly hurts a little, smacking Eddie’s back. “Oh, cheer up, Eds. I promise Kermit isn’t out to replace you.”
“Well, Kermit might not be, but Chris’ friends sure are. He’s sleeping over at Tommy’s on Friday.” He stops walking to stare at Buck and breathes, building up courage. Buck has seen him do that a lot recently, and is more overwhelmed with pride than he probably should be, because Eddie’s finally relying on the people who love him instead of trying to do everything on his own.
“I was wondering if I could cash in for that offer you made on Monday. Shitty horror movie and pizza?”
Buck’s grin widens. “Of course! Your place or mine?”
Oh no. Did that sound too much like a date? No… He’s just hanging with his best friend so he doesn’t feel too lonely while Chris isn’t around. That’s it. Just a movie and some drinks. No biggie.
He’s halfway through his thought spiral when Eddie answers. “Is it okay if you come by? Tommy’s mom is picking Chris up, so I might take too long driving to yours after.”
Buck nods, shaking off his paranoid overthinking. “Yeah, yeah. That’s great.”
It shouldn’t feel this weird, right? They’ve been doing this for ages anyway. Sit together, laugh at corny lines and bad special effects all night, eat pizza until their stomachs beg them to stop. Buck can’t count how many times he’s passed out on Eddie’s couch after a movie night, tired from his shift or having drunk too many beers. Eddie’s also stayed over at his before.
So why does Buck feel jittery and anxious for the rest of the day and all the way through his Thursday shift?
By Friday afternoon he’s managed to make himself act normal. After all, they’re Eddie and Buck. They’ve got each other’s backs, whether it’s to pull each other out of burning buildings or to keep each other company on a Friday night.
Still, seeing Eddie all messy-haired in a green henley and sweatpants when he answers his door really does not help at all. He stares at the dark strands of hair falling every direction from Eddie’s head, curling against his forehead, and all he can think is pretty, pretty, pretty.
He stares a bit too long, because Eddie notices and runs his hand through his hair, trying to flatten it. “Sorry, I fell asleep a little. Turns out Tommy’s mom picked Chris’ stuff up earlier and just went to get him directly from the school. He was so happy when we talked on the phone. Said he finally got to ride in Tommy’s ‘cool car’.”
Buck chuckles. “Oh, yeah. He told me about that. It’s a red truck with a huge sunroof, apparently. And get this, it has Kermit the frog and Gonzo bumper stickers.”
Eddie’s bewildered expression combined with his hair, which he’s messed up even further, make Buck double in laughter, holding onto the doorframe to avoid simply falling face-first onto his chest.
“How do you find out this stuff? I’m starting to think you know more about my son than I do”, he complains, but the slight crinkle around his eyes tells Buck he’s amused.
“Well, since you refuse to indulge him on his love for Kermit, he decided to start telling me about it.”
Eddie shrugs. “Fine by me. You can handle that, I’ll handle the math homework.”
Buck nearly misses Eddie waving him inside, too busy trying to pull himself out of the delusional, sickeningly domestic fantasies in his head where he gets to be a part of the little Diaz family, and they have the same kind of conversations they just had on the doorway, splitting Chris-related tasks and laughing about his adorable adventures.
When he walks into the living room, he feels like his heart is being ripped apart and sewn back together at an alarmingly fast rate. He’s in love with his best friend and he is so gonna ruin everything they’ve built for years.
He sees himself everywhere. There’s a navy-blue hoodie he left last week, still draped over the back of the couch, and a pair of slippers right next to Eddie’s and Chris’ against the corner closest to the hall. The duck-shaped mug he bought for himself to use in the Diaz household is on the coffee table, sitting on top of a wonky coaster he tried to crochet when he was healing from his broken leg and which Chris insisted to take home.
He’s been haunting Eddie and Christopher like a clingy ghost, and he still wants more. He can’t ask that from either of them.
He thought he could do this. He thought he could live with the fact that he’s in love with Eddie without ever doing anything about it. He thought he could keep offering to pick Chris up from school every once in a while, occasionally sneak into the Diaz zoo trip to make Eddie and Chris laugh with his ridiculous fun facts. He thought he could keep making coffee for Eddie at the 118’s kitchen, with one and a half teaspoons of sugar just like he loves it. He thought he could do all of it without changing everything, without having to fight the urge to hold Eddie’s hand every time they’re at the supermarket, without having to ignore the wish to kiss Chris on the forehead when he scrapes his knees.
Maybe he’s weaker than he assumed.
“Buck. Are you okay?” Eddie’s hand on the crook of his elbow coaxes him towards the sofa. “Hey. It’s okay. Sit down for me, yeah? Just breathe, Buck. I’m here.”
Buck unsticks his eyes from the duck mug, lifts his head up and stares. Eddie’s eyes are so brown and shiny. They’re soft and framed by long lashes, and they’re warm and pretty, and they’re worried, and… no, they’re supposed to be all crinkly and happy, and Buck is ruining everything.
“I’m supposed to be here to cheer you up and now you’re all worried”, he croaks, and Eddie’s frown just deepens.
“No. What? No— Buck, you’re here because I want you to be. Because you’re my best friend and I’m happy to spend time with you any day. I’m not— I’m not using you to make myself happy, I would never do that. Buck, I could never be happy when you look this scared. Of course I’m worried. But it’s not you fault. I just—I want you to talk to me, please. What’s wrong?”
Buck’s trembling breaths feel like lead running through his airway. “Eddie. I’m sorry, okay? I am so, so sorry.”
Eddie slowly wraps one of Buck’s hands between his own. “What are you sorry for?”
“I—” Buck swallows. “I’m everywhere, Eds. And I— I know you just said you want me to be here, but if… but if you knew what I wanted, I don’t know if you’d say the same. I just don’t— I’m gonna ruin everything, Eddie. I don’t wanna ruin everything. I can’t.”
Eddie’s grip on his hand tightens just slightly, and Buck lets himself feel it, every inch of it, just in case he never gets to again.
“Buck. What are you talking about?”
“Eddie… I love you. Just— I’m sorry if this doesn’t make sense yet.” Buck pauses. Closes his eyes. Eddie’s soft eyes and the warmth of his hands envelope his heart. “You’re my family, Eds. You and Chris. And I don’t just mean you’re my best friend. I think… I think a while ago you started being much more than that. And I was too much of an idiot to even notice, for so long… I’m in love with you, Eddie.
"And I am terrified of every word that’s coming out of my mouth right now. Just a couple days ago I thought I could just learn to live with it, but then I saw you today and you told me I could handle Chris’ love for that silly little frog and you would handle the math homework and I knew that I really, truly wanted to have that for the rest of my life. And then I came in here and I saw all my stuff strewn around as if I lived here, and I realized that I can’t lie to you about this, Eddie, I can’t. Because I’m taking stuff that isn’t mine to have, and using space that isn’t mine to live in. And I don’t want to lose you, but I also don’t want you to keep having me in your life with only half-truths. I owe you much more than that.”
That’s about as much courage as Buck had in him. He stares down at Eddie’s hands, still wrapped around him, unmoving, and tries not to get up and run out of the room until Eddie’s said something. He waits, watching Eddie’s eyes trace the room the same way he did just a few minutes ago, until they land back on Buck’s.
“Evan, this house has been yours for years. You said it yourself, you are everywhere. And I—” he looks up at the ceiling and grins, and oh. There are those little crinkles. “I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t.
I haven’t moved your hoodie from the couch because I love seeing it there every day when I come back from shift. I drink tea on that dumb duck mug because it’s the one I keep at the front of the cabinet. Your Top Ten Worst Natural Disasters book is still on my nightstand since the weekend you stayed with Chris while I went to Texas. I honestly wouldn’t really mind it that much if Chris rambled about Kermit the frog to me, but I love that he goes to you instead, and that you spent like four days googling Kermit stuff just to buy him a birthday present that he’ll love.”
Buck’s heart is about to take off running and never return. He turns his palm up, and Eddie’s fingers intertwine with his, and his smile is blinding, and Buck doesn’t need any other sight.
“Buck, this stuff is yours to have. All of it. And… and more, if you’ll have it. The early school mornings and the road trips and the movie nights, and the fights with ignorant teachers and the leak that we still haven’t fixed in the kitchen. And whatever obsession comes after Kermit, and even the math homework if you feel like it. And I’m sorry that I made you believe that this wasn’t a possibility. I guess I didn’t think it was, either.”
He grabs Buck’s face in his hands and pulls him close, close enough that their foreheads touch and Buck can feel the soft little strands of Eddie’s hair against his skin, can feel him vibrate with laughter, can count every one of his eyelashes, even through the blurriness starting to gather on his eyes.
“We’re ridiculous”, Eddie laughs, and closes the remaining space between them.
It takes Buck a couple of seconds to convince himself that this is real, that his best friend is kissing him in the middle of his living room, surrounded by all their stuff, telling him he can have everything he’s been wanting for so long. And when he does, well. He doesn’t let go for a long while.
They end up watching the Muppet Movie (if you can call making out with a movie in the background “watching”), and Buck doesn’t even have time to laugh at the irony of it all. He has much to thank Kermit for.
He thinks the Kermit-shaped mug Chris unwraps for his birthday on Monday says enough. It quickly owns its place next to the duck, at the front of the kitchen cabinet.
#i'm a tad bit late and i wrote this on a whim so it's not very thoroughly checked!! but i had a looot of fun writing it :)#again i hope you had a wonderful birthday mel!#emeraldcas30#sara writes#buddie#911
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