#abigail reader insert

[star-centric]

Knock, Knock

PAIRING: Adam Barrett/Frank x Gender Neutral!Reader

SUMMARY: You’re more than pissed when Frank shows up at your door step in the middle of the night, but something seems different about this visit than the previous ones. All you want is sleep- but the former detective is on a mission and doesn’t plan on leaving until he gets what he came for.

NOTE: LISTENNNNNNN- this movie has me in a chokehold BAD. Take this random (and very self-indulgent) idea that came out of nowhere but has been in my head for the last 4+ months (and I also think this may be the longest fic I’ve ever written??) Graphics by @/firefly-graphics- enjoy!!

CW: heavy suggestive themes (still not nsfw- but it’s mentioned that you and Frank used to be fwb), SPOILERS FOR THE FINAL ACT OF THE MOVIE, blood, violence, language (Frank has a potty mouth), hints of possessiveness from Frank, Reader knows his real name but Frank will still be called Frank for the sake of plot purposes (minus one time)

There’s two knocks to your front door.

A quick check on your phone shows that it’s way after midnight. Your mind is still trying to wake up when you stomp towards the door, irritation growing when there’s three more persistent knocks. You practically rip the door open, curses already lined up on your tongue-

You’re stumped when you see that it’s Frank.

The man still had his hand up mid knock, the little shock lining his face soon morphing into his usual stiff expression. “Took you long enough.”

“It’s 1 in the morning, what do you expect?” You don’t bother hiding your bitterness, eyes narrowed and hand already in position to slam the door shut in his face. But you couldn’t hide your curiosity as to why he’s here to begin with.

The last you’ve seen Frank was months ago, when you were working with him on an undercover job. He was as much as a prick then than he is now, but somehow, you grew to find him tolerable as time passed. Maybe it was because of how confident he was, never doubting himself and having a level head in the face of danger. Combine that and what how attractive he was, and you could see why you put up with him.

But you fell out of contact with him afterwards, the little messages shared between you both falling silent. You’ve thought it was for the best anyways. It was just an (occasional) hookup after all. But seeing him on your doorstep still has you shaken that he came to you.

Frank is quick to bite back at your snark with his own, “Well that’s never stopped you before.” He places his palm on the door- no doubt trying to stop you from your previous plan. He acts like he’s confused before he leans forward, whispering, “As a matter of fact, I don’t think that’s stopped you at all. Especially when you were looking for a quick fu-“

“Do you need something? Cause if you don’t, you can leave.” You interrupt him. It was no secret that you both have hooked up more than once, but you weren’t going to walk down memory lane with him about it. You don’t have to play his games- you have to get up in less than 6 hours, and you rather not have to deal with Frank being an asshole on your off time.

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

A beat of silence passed, you guarding the door with your arms crossed while Frank stood with his hands in his pockets. “So what is it?”

He gestures to the door, “What- you’re not gonna let me in?”

A petty part of you didn’t want to, instead wanting to leave him to waste his time like he was doing yours. “What’s the difference between saying it here and inside?”

“That I’m not a fucking dog for one.”

“Hm…I’m not convinced.”

Frank rolls his eyes and sighs. The flash of frustration that crosses his face is satisfying. “Look- I need to talk to you and it’s important okay? I don’t have time to waste- so can I come in or what?”

This is one of the few moments that seemed genuine coming from him, his eyes betraying his sincerity despite the displeasure dripping from his voice.

You begrudgingly step aside, heaving a sigh of your own and telling him to come in. Frank mutters something under his breath while you lock the door behind him.

“You haven’t changed much.”

“I can say the same about you.” You remark, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “Only difference is that now you’re a real criminal instead of pretending to be one like before.”

Peeking into Frank’s files wasn’t difficult, no matter how much he tried to keep it hidden. Working in intel has its perks- seeing the once decorated detective fall into the life of crime was a little jarring, but a tiny part of you wasn’t surprised. He seemed like he played the undercover role a bit too well at time.

But he’s been off the grid for months afterwards- it was hard even for you to find a trace of the former detective (which you never did).

“What, you missed me that bad that you had to be nosy?”

“You had to know that I was gonna snoop around- it’s my job literally. And you’re the one that came to me, so you’re the one that misses me, Adam.”

Frank stepped close to you, enough that you could smell the same cologne that would be left your sheets. “You still got a mouth on you- always got something to fuckin’ say.”

His hand crawled up your neck as he spoke, a chill going down your spine. The icy touch from his hand did nothing to cool you, which was growing hotter as his fingers trailed along your skin. Frank lightly squeezed your throat, a deep jolt striking in the pit of your stomach. He leaned in closer, his lips hovering over yours.

You could pull away, tell him to forget about whatever he needed help with, kick him out and tell him to go to Hell all in one. Frank is an asshole, one that you shouldn’t be entertaining and one that you definitely shouldn’t be pining over.

Yet whatever rebuttal you had died down when you lurched forward, connecting your lips with his.

You could tell he was caught off guard when you felt his body tense up. But he soon began to relax into the kiss.

Frank has never been one to not be in control, and he was proving that now. His tongue swiped at the bottom of your lip and you didn’t hesitate to lower it. There was a battle for dominance that you would always lose against him to. He didn’t give you a chance to catch your breath- it was a battle of dominance that you would always lose to.

You didn’t realize that you made your way to the bedroom until your back hit the sheets, Frank hovering above you, his glasses already abandoned. He never broke away from you, lips traveling down your neck while his hands trailed your body, dipping lower and lower.

It was getting harder to fight your moans, not wanting to give Frank the satisfaction. The bites on your neck were sending pleasurable chills down your spine. You were sure that you’ll have marks in the morning (nothing new) but you don’t remember him being so rough-

“Ow!”

You hissed, gripping Frank’s shoulders and pushing him away. A sharp pain left your neck throbbing. You brought your fingers to it, seeing spots of crimson decorating the tips. It snapped you out of your haze, both of you sitting up.

“Jesus Frank!” You sat up, concern etched on your face. You tapped your fingers against your neck again, feeling the blood come down to your collarbone, not noticing his eyes following the trail.

You wiped at your neck, more of the crimson leaving a mark. You’re kicking yourself for inviting him in- nothing ever came good from getting involved with Frank (the sex would be the only bonus, but even then that high was just temporary). You went to grab a first aid kit, grumbling under your breath how he was able to nick you so easily when he grabbed at your wrist.

Frank didn’t pay you any mind, instead bringing your fingers- stained with your drying blood- up to his lips. He moaned, lightly dragging his tongue across your fingertips. You snatched your hand away, scooting away from him while your stomach twisted into knots.

But Frank didn’t seem deterred by your horror. He groaned, licking his lips and savoring the taste.

Frank had his kinks, but this one was new. And the look in his eyes terrified you.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” You curled your body away from his.

He didn’t answer you right away, which filled you with unease.

“Ya know, I tried to be patient with you, I really did, but after tasting that- fuck it. I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

The world spun and you found yourself pinned down on the bed again.

A scream was caught in your throat when you locked eyes with Frank- or what was suppose to be Frank.

Large, sharp protruding teeth met your sight. This had to be some sort of joke, right? A very hyper realistic dream from all of the late hours you’ve been pulling on the job.

But no matter how hard you blinked, Frank was still there on top of you, his cold hands constraining you to the bed, claws digging into your wrists.

“If you could see the look on your face.” He chuckled.

A million thoughts are running through your mind, breath catching when Frank drags a claw along your aching neck, you hissing in pain.

“I can hear your heart beating so fast from here,” he bent down, smelling and then grinning into your throat. “And I can smell it- your fear. You’re scared shitless aren’t you?” He asked, but you both already knew the answer.

You flinched, trying to hold in a whimper when he brought his tongue out again, tracing the congealed blood alongside your neck.

“What are you?” You croaked out.

“Isn’t it obvious sweetheart?” He tapped your temple with his sharpened nail. “Use that little brain of yours like you’re used to. I’m a vampire- and you got Lambert to thank for that.”

You were never a huge believer in the supernatural. Werewolves, ghosts, vampires- they couldn’t exist. It shouldn’t. Yet here Frank stood, making a quick believer out of you.

“What do you want from me?”

“Those fuckers back at the mansion gave me a good idea that I should get my own little puppet- and I decided that it should be you.”

The pit in your stomach deepened.

You didn’t know what that would mean for you, and you didn’t want to find out. You needed to break free from this monster. You snapped out of your thoughts when Frank let out a laugh.

“I can see those gears turning in your head- you really think I’m giving you a choice?” He flashed a wolffish smile filled with teeth. “You don’t have a fuckin’ chance.”

As much as your fear was threatening to consume you, you didn’t want to give up. Death would be better than becoming a pawn for this beast.

“Fuck you.” You gritted out.

He grinned once more, making a show of licking his teeth.

“I’m gonna have fun making you mine.”

You kept struggling to get out of his hold, kneeing him in his groin hard as you rolled off the bed. You heard him curse as you made a beeline to the door, only to get yanked back by Frank.

“Really? That’s all you got?” He sounded less than amused. “Gotta do better than that.”

He sent you flying in the air, a choked gasp escaping you as your body collided with the wall. The move left you dizzy as Frank blocked the door, your steps a bit wobbly- then through your fear you remembered.

You dug through the drawer for your gun. It was a small, police-issued handgun. You never thought that you would have to use it, so you didn’t have a lot of ammo to spare. If you could just get one good shot on Frank, then this nightmare could be over. Even if he wasn’t dead, you could get away.

You didn’t have a concrete plan.

Your hands shook as you loaded it, and even more when you aimed it at him.

Frank opened his mouth, ready to mock you some more when you pulled the trigger.

The shot rung in your ears as you saw him stumble back, crimson flowing down his forehead. He fell back on the floor, and the breath you didn’t know you were holding was shakily released.

You’ve never had to kill someone before- always trained to do everything behind the scenes. But with Frank, he needed to die. It was clear that you wouldn’t be left unscathed if you hadn’t shot.

Your skin crawled at the thought of going near his body, but you needed to make sure that he was dead. Another headshot would put you more at ease before you escaped for good-

“Shit- you’re a better shot than I remember.”

Your knees felt weak and your stomach dropped as Frank sat up, wiping the trail of blood from his forehead, any trace of the injury gone. No blood, no bullet wound, nothing. Like he wasn’t ever shot to begin with.

Uncontrollable shivers ran throughout your body as Frank made his way towards you. You aimed your gun and shot more rounds into him, but he didn’t even seem phased.

Your breathing grew heavy as the gun clicked empty.

“That’s enough of that-“ he grabbed the gun, tearing it from your hands and flinging you along with the weapon across the room. Your head and back crashed against the vanity, breaking the mirror into pieces in mere seconds.

Your vision was blurring as the glass came down, some pieces slicing your skin. Frank came to stand over you, tsking as he picked up a shard.

You tried to crawl to the gun, pieces of glass burying themselves in your hands and knees. Before you could utter a word, a searing, white hot pain shot through you. You didn’t realize how loud you were screeching until he ripped the shard out of your side, stained with crimson.

He flipped and crouched over you, nodding his head and admiring his work. “It was fun while it lasted, but it’s about time I get what I came for.”

You wheezed, weakly trying to push him away as he kept you pinned down with one hand. Your back was drenched from sweat and blood pooling out of your side.

Everything felt so foggy- you felt numb, and the longer you laid on the floor, the more your eyes were fighting to stay open. You wanted to sleep, still holding onto the childlike belief that this was just a bad dream.

But that thought was shattered when Frank pulled you up and bit you.

The pain was excruciating. A scream ripped out of you, trying to claw, push- everything in your power to break free. But you were physically drained, forced to hear the disgusting slurping of your own blood.

Your mind was cloudy as what felt like minutes went by. Frank finally pulled away, dropping you back on the floor unceremoniously. You lifted your trembling hand to your neck, while Frank watched on with a bloodied smirk.

The broken reflection from the shards on the floor showed you how gnarly the bite looked. Your skin was starting to bruise, deep shades already forming on your skin. Your stomach was turning more when Frank started to chuckle.

You were scared to ask him what he’s laughing for, whatever reasoning bound to fill you with more misery.

You stared on in horror when the bite disappeared.

“What did you do to me?” You whispered, wiping your finger over where the bite was. The area throbbed, but nothing was there. The bruising remained, but the teeth marks were gone.

Your wide eyes locked with his, your voice rising, “What did you to me?!”

“Exactly what I told you. Making you my puppet.”

You were on the brink of hyperventilating, ready to curse and cry out all at once when you suddenly stopped. Any words that would have been said were caught in your throat. The words you tried to force came out choked, only wheezes and short breaths escaping.

“Now that’s more like it.” Tears were forming in your eyes, but you still couldn’t cry out. Your mind was racing, heart about to beat out of your chest when everything went blank.

The horror marking your face was gone, hands falling to your side as you kneeled. Frank stood over you, nudging your form.

You didn’t even budge.

“That fuckin’ freak was onto something when she turned that kid into her puppet.” He grabbed at your face, you still motionless.

Tears streaked down your cheeks, Frank mockingly cooing at you. “It’s too late for tears now.” He bent down to your neck, leaning in close. You couldn’t even flinch.

“Tell me- who do you belong to?”

You had no control over yourself anymore. You were just a passenger in your own body, watching helplessly as words you didn’t choose to say came out.

“I belong to you Frank.”

“Say it again.” He growled.

“I belong to you, Frank.” Your monotone voice filled the room.

He nodded his head once more, commanding you to stand up, which you did without dispute. “If you behave, I’ll think about fully turnin’ you when we get home. Didn’t want to do it too early- I want to make sure I can savor all the fun I can have with you.” He spoke nonchalantly, adjusting his glasses.“But it’s not like you have a choice either way.”

You just stood there blankly, silent tears rolling down your cheek.

Frank ordered you to grab your keys, saying that you had a few stops to make before he could make his decision.

“But for now- let’s start having some real fun.”

[cece693]

Could I request some Hannigram for a reader who operates on a backwards schedule? Like eating breakfast at 9pm and dinner at 7am.

Anytime they’re seen during the daytime they just look exhausted, lol

My Morning vs. Your Night

pairing: hannigram x gender neutral reader tags: hannigram are worried, your job is vague so it's up to your interpretation, you look dead and are exhausted, caring hannigram

You didn’t mind the hours at first. Working through the night suited your quiet nature, and the city seemed more peaceful under fluorescent lights and moonlit streets. You liked the dark, the hush it carried, and the way no one needed anything from you except your job’s unrelenting demands. But even you had to admit it was taking a toll.

You could feel your body fraying at the edges. Nights had become days—your sun rose while others slept, and your “good morning” was usually a mumbled greeting at 7 p.m. Then, when the world was waking up, you were crawling under the blankets.

Will was the first to notice the strain. He always noticed things—something about the way your eyes lost their usual spark, the way your head would loll forward in the middle of conversation. He’d be sitting at the kitchen table, feeding the dogs in the early morning, while you stumbled into the house just before dawn. His brows would crease in that concerned way, the same gentle worry he wore when coaxing stray animals to trust him.

Hannibal, in contrast, observed you more subtly. He measured the dark circles under your eyes, the slump in your posture. He noted the times you arrived too late or too early for a meal, rummaging for breakfast at nine in the evening. He witnessed how exhaustion made you forget to eat proper dinners, your last substantial meal too many hours in the past. Their worry was shared—spoken in Will’s gentle voice and in Hannibal’s carefully worded suggestions.

Hannibal was a blur of precision as he artfully arranged your plate—a culinary masterpiece that qualified as breakfast by your schedule. Hash browns with a fried egg, a delicate drizzle of sauce that smelled faintly of herbs. He placed the plate in front of you, leaning in with an elegant posture. “You must eat,” he said softly, voice like silk on porcelain. “Your body needs care even if your hours are reversed.”

You tried to give him a small smile of gratitude, but your eyes slid closed for just a moment of rest. It felt like even blinking took more energy than you had. “I am eating,” you replied, forcing cheer into your tone. You sank your fork into the food, and as always, it was divine. This didn’t escape your notice, but your taste buds and Hannibal’s cooking had begun to take a backseat to pure fatigue.

Will hovered by your side. He still wore a sweater with a few dog hairs clinging to the sleeves, and the usual shadows of his own weariness had nothing on the purple bruises beneath your eyes. “I’m worried about you,” he said, gently patting your shoulder. “This isn’t healthy. You’re coming home in the morning and not even sleeping properly. You hardly rest before you go back out again.”

Your gaze shifted to him, and your heart clenched at the genuine concern carved into his expression. “It’s just the nature of the work,” you said quietly. “I can’t exactly turn it down. They need me.” Will exhaled, and Hannibal placed a hand on Will’s shoulder as if reminding him to tread carefully.

A week later, the inevitable crash came. Maybe it was a double shift that turned into a triple. Maybe it was the pounding headache that refused to relent. You wound up driving home while the sun was already high in the sky—past 7 a.m., well into your typical “dinnertime,” but you’d missed all your usual signals.

You stumbled into the house, tears of frustration threatening to fall. You kicked off your shoes, ignoring the annoyed whine of your tired muscles, and almost collapsed in the foyer.

Will was there in an instant, arms catching you around the waist. “Whoa, easy,” he said, voice thick with concern. “Let me help you—just breathe.”

Hannibal appeared like a shadow, as swift as a heartbeat, pressing a gentle hand to your forehead. You saw the flicker of alarm in his eyes. You must have looked truly terrible. Your eyelids fluttered, the world turning blurry. “I’m so tired,” you mumbled, as if your exhaustion was something new and shocking.

Will and Hannibal exchanged a look above your hunched form, and Will gently scooped you into his arms, carrying you to the couch. You sank into it like a wilted flower. Before you could register it, Hannibal disappeared into the kitchen, returning moments later with a glass of water. No one spoke until you took a few sips, water dribbling down your chin. Your hands shook so hard it was difficult to hold the glass.

Then Hannibal, with a low, steady voice, said, “We can’t watch you do this to yourself any longer.”

Will nodded. “We talked about it and we think you should quit this job. Please. For your own sake.”

It wasn’t an easy decision. You’d put so much into this job. But you remembered all those times you nearly passed out at your desk, times you neglected meals, the nights you promised Will you’d be home by dawn only to arrive in the bright glare of midday. So you stood in your supervisor’s office the next afternoon (evening, by your internal clock) and handed over your resignation. A wave of conflicting emotions washed over you—fear, relief, regret, and anticipation. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen a proper sunrise while wide awake.

Stepping out of that building for the last time, you felt lighter. Your phone buzzed with a waiting text from Will:

We’re so proud of you. Come home safe.

It took a while to reset your routine. At first, you still found yourself awake at bizarre hours—your stomach growling at midnight, craving what it had learned to call breakfast. But now, when you emerged from the bedroom at odd times, you were greeted by Will in the living room, dozing lightly, as though waiting for you. Hannibal often had a small snack prepared, an elegant amuse-bouche to tide you over while your body adjusted.

Some nights, Hannibal would read aloud from a book of poetry while you rested your head in Will’s lap, focusing on the cadence of Hannibal’s voice to soothe your restless mind. Will’s fingers combed absently through your hair, grounding you. Slowly, you found yourself drifting off earlier and waking closer to what most people called “morning.” You’d have breakfast around nine—actual nine in the morning. Will smiled at you over a cup of coffee, and Hannibal offered you a plate of fresh fruit and delicate pastries.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had breakfast with both Will and Hannibal in natural morning light. It felt surreal, a luxury you hadn’t realized you’d been missing for so long. The kitchen was bathed in a gentle glow from the rising sun, and for once, you didn’t have to squint against it, half-conscious from a grueling shift.

“How do you feel?” Will asked, sliding you a cup of tea.

You paused, steam rising into your face, the warmth of the mug cupped in your hands. “I feel…rested.” The word sounded alien, but it made you laugh a little. “I forgot what that was like.”

Hannibal, perched elegantly across from you, inclined his head. “It is good to see color in your cheeks again. You have a natural glow this morning.”

Will’s foot nudged yours under the table, an affectionate gesture. “Not that you aren't handsome/beautiful, of course,” he teased in his soft, playful way, “but you did look like a ghost for a while there.”

A shy laugh escaped you, and you reached across to squeeze his hand briefly. “It’s strange, but i’m glad I quit.”

“Good,” Hannibal responded, his smile as subtle as ever. “Because your well-being is paramount. To both of us.” A comfortable silence settled among the three of you. It was only broken by the quiet clink of silverware on plates and the soft hum of the dogs in the next room. You took in the moment, letting your shoulders relax in a way they hadn’t in ages. The day stretched ahead of you—not night, not the sleepless hours, but a real day full of possibilities and the promise of healthy routines. Will winked at you before biting into a piece of toast, and Hannibal sipped his coffee with measured elegance.

[allthemeniveloved]

Masterlist

May the wind be at your back

Good fortune touch your hand

May the cards lay out-a-straight

All from your command

ao3

requests: open

nsfw = *

꧁✰꧂꧁✰꧂꧁✰꧂꧁✰꧂꧁✰꧂꧁✰꧂꧁✰

It Will Come Back - completed

John Marston fell in love with you the moment the Van Der Lin gang rescued you from an O'Driscoll hideout all those years ago. Now, after the bitter end to a tumultuous on-again, off-again relationship with Arthur, John's feelings have become increasingly difficult to hide from not only you, but Arthur as well.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4* | Chapter 5* | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7* | Chapter 8 | Arthur's Ending Part 1 | Arthur's Ending Part 2* | John's Ending Part 1* | John's Ending Part 2

꧁✰꧂꧁✰꧂꧁✰꧂꧁✰꧂꧁✰꧂꧁✰꧂꧁✰

Northern Attitude

On a frigid night in Colter, you find solace in someone else's cot, causing tension to boil over.

Arthur's Chapter | John's Chapter

꧁✰꧂꧁✰꧂꧁✰꧂꧁✰꧂꧁✰꧂꧁✰꧂꧁✰

One Shots

Little Rat - Arthur

Blood and Bonds - Dad!John

Cradle - Dad!Arthur

Too Sweet - Dad!Arthur

Do I look like him?* - John

Token - Charles

Almost - John

Devil* - John

Heat - John

[floatyflowers]

Dark Platonic Abigail Lazar x Reader x Dark Kristof Lazar

When you met Kristof Lazar, you thought he is the nicest guy that you have ever met.

I mean he takes you out on dates, showers you with gifts, making sure to never upset you, and his daughter Abigail is the sweetest kid.

So, it would never occur to you that he is a powerful crime lord and not only that but also a vampire.

Yet, Abigail decided to reveal this information for you when you two were playing together.

At first you thought she was joking and even mentioned that to Kristof.

Kristof only smiles at you before confirming his daughter's words.

And officially welcoming you into the family.

The information scared you but you didn't dare to escape in fear of getting caught.

However, Abigail suggested to her father that they turn you into a vampire, thinking that you accepted your role as her mother and the wife of her father.

And that was a lie, because When Kristof tries to turn you, you try to stab him with a wooden stick.

Your attempt fails for an obvious reason.

He is a vampire.

But Kristof didn't take offense, instead he kissed the top of your hand.

"Don't worry, you will accept your new life sooner than later"

Then he bites this same hand he just kissed.

[blxkstar]

𝐕𝐀𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐍𝐆

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃: 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐨𝐫 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄

The gang of criminals, rebels, and radical minds who decided to reject civilization in favor of living under their own rules. I made this playlist with music that I believe fits the Van Der Linde gang. Please check it out!

"They can pummel us as hard as they like, but we will always get back up and fight. That's who we are. Outlaws for life, fellers"

"Nothin' means more to me than this gang, the bond that we share. It's the most real thing to me. I would kill for it, I would happily die for it."

"You kill, I kill. You rob, I rob. Only difference I can see is I choose whom I kill, and rob, while you destroy everything in your path."

"This place... ain't no such thing as civilized."

[the-karma-cafe]

My Kingdom for a Dance | Arthur Morgan

a/n: excerpt from a way longer work in progress i was working on many months ago, and haven't had the time to work on more. better to get something out now than nothing out ever, right ? - also will probmaybe post this on ao3 under same user

Arthur hummed, either not believing me or just not caring, and his eyes skipped down my form to the bottle clutched in my hand. His eyes widened a fraction, and he laughed, “You’re not messin’ around, little lady!”

I took another sip, trying to act nonchalant (never before had I fought a cringe so hard). “This is nothin’.” I shrugged.

Something sparkled in his eyes at that. “Oh yeah?” he laughed, and cocked his head over towards the other table. “You wanna put yer money where yer mouth is, sweetheart?” His hands rested heavy on his belt as he looked down at me.

I balked (and attempted to ignore the small flutter my heart made) at that. My eyes dragged over to the other table where Micah was pouring shots with Bill and John. I hadn’t meant for it to sound like a challenge.

Well. I couldn’t very well back down now, could I? Not when he was looking at me like that, calling me that.

I swallowed back my nerves and strolled over to the table like it didn’t matter. He snickered behind me, following.

“Thirsty, sugar pie?” Micah sneered up at me as I plopped down next to John.

“Parched,” I retorted, grabbing one of the shots from his spot across the table. Arthur settled down next to him, across from John, Bill, and I, and grabbed one of his own.

“One… two…” Bill began to count, but Micah threw his back before the other man finished. Irritated at not being followed, Bill scoffed and awkwardly cut himself off, throwing his back as well. John, Arthur, and I followed suit.

Or, well, John and Arthur did. Half the moonshine made it down my throat before I gagged and spit the rest back in the cup. Micah barked a laugh at me. “Bet you’d do better with somethin’ else in yer mouth, huh, girlie?” John laughed along with him.

My cheeks burned, if not for the drink, then especially for that. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” I bit back, stuffing down my embarrassment.

“Well,” he curled up his lip, “if the lady is offering…” He leaned back to gesture towards his lap.

I opened my mouth before I knew what I wanted to say, but thankfully was cut off. “You’re a real charmer, ain’tcha?” Arthur drawled. I glanced over at him, seeing that his cheerful expression from earlier had soured.

Micah shrugged and pushed up and away from the table. “Just the merry dance of the sexes,” he raised his hands in mock-defense. Bill pushed up to follow after him. Micah waved at me, his eyes narrowed and his grin wide. I looked back to Arthur.

“Creep.” Arthur muttered, his eyes not leaving the table.

My heart warmed a little. Arthur often defended the other women of camp from Micah’s comments, but I’d never had that kindness extended to me before now. It was sweet, his protectiveness. His gaze shifted across the table to my drink. He cracked a smile, “You gonna finish that?”

I snorted, pulling the cup towards me. “This is probably half-spit, you don’t want it.” I brought it back up to my nose, trying not to cringe at the smell. I held it away from me again. “How the hell d’you guys do this?”

John chuckled beside me. “Just don’t think about it, I guess.”

I nodded and took his advice, trying to throw the alcohol over my tongue to choke it back. I wasn’t sure what the percentage was on moonshine, but I was sure it didn’t matter at this point, my head now well-fuzzed. Arthur’s eyes were trained on me, a small smile on his lips. “You really are all talk.”

I rolled my eyes, biting back a smile of my own. “Whatever.”

Arthur and John took a couple more shots, getting sloppier by the minute. John was friendly next to me, slinging his arm around my shoulder and talking too loudly in my ear. It was nice, though, hanging out with the two of them. Strange, but nice.

ARTHUR POV

He watched John say something else to her, but he wasn’t sure what, nor did he really care. His gaze was shadowed under his hat, staring across the table at them. John laughed, pulling (Y/N) closer as he rocked to the side. She smiled back at him, her cheeks ruddy. Arthur forced a laugh of his own, though he wasn’t sure why he bothered.

She looked nice.

He didn’t want to think about it, but with her right in front of him like this, it made things hard. He had tried all day not to think about that morning: waking up to the rest of the camp asleep, going to get coffee, getting distracted by the way the pale sun shone down on her hair, the sweet way she had her blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

He had found himself sketching it later, while waiting for Trelawney with Javier and Charles. He remembered closing his journal a little too quickly when he realized Trelawney had walked up and stood behind him to announce himself.

And she had washed his jacket. It was the slightest bit damp, but he kept it on anyway, even after he rode off. She pulled it out from under that blanket, bunched up by her side, and handed it to him. He wondered briefly how it would look on her一if she’d look as sweet in his jacket as she had with her blanket; if she’d grow to prefer it more.

He threw back another drink, seeking to quiet his thoughts. It didn’t matter, anyway.

John scowled at something (Y/N) said, and got up, stumbling off somewhere else. She turned those eyes of hers on Arthur. He fought the urge to look away, holding her gaze. “What’s his problem?” he asked.

“Told him to go see the missus,” she smiled, taking a sip of her beer. He forced himself to look away from the unfair way her lips looked pressed against it.

“Ah,” he hummed in understanding, raising his cup in acknowledgement. “Smart idea, gettin’ him to do it while he’s drunk.”

She laughed and shook her head. “I’m not so sure about that.”

Dutch’s gramophone clicked to life, playing some fun, but calm, instrumental. Arthur glanced over, watching Dutch turn away from the machine and hold his hands out to Miss O’Shea, who happily stepped into his embrace. They swayed together to the music, her high laughter floating over the noise.

“That’s sweet,” (Y/N) whispered from across the table, just loud enough for him to hear. He looked back to her, watching her watch them, a soft expression on her face.

The sun was almost completely hidden behind the mountains now, the last valiant orange fading from the sky. Light from the nearby oil lamps and campfire took its place, most of her face shadowed despite their efforts. It played on the apple of her cheek, the bridge of her nose, the reflection in her eyes. His fingers itched for his journal again.

“D’you wanna dance?”

She blinked in surprise, and looked over at him. That was strange, though, because he hadn’t said anything. He wondered who asked her, although he hoped she would say no to them, and stay with him instead. Her cheeks appeared to flush the slightest bit一or maybe he was just seeing things一and she shyly smiled.

“Sure, Arthur, I’d love to.”

Oh. He asked.

He felt a heat of his own creep up the back of his neck and ears, and hoped it didn’t show. He stood up abruptly from the table, and swayed a bit on his feet. She mirrored his movement, getting up and steadying herself.

He held out his hand, forcing the other behind his back awkwardly. “M’lady,” he joked.

She giggled and placed her hand in his. It was a bit roughened compared to the night before, but still soft. It likely wouldn’t stay this way for long, running with them.

He tugged gently (or he tried to, at least), pulling her closer. She made a small noise of surprise and stumbled over to him, placing her other hand between them before they collided. It rested heavy on his chest, more an indicator of her drunken state than anything else. Warmth spread from her to him, and he wondered if he was giving any back.

Arthur brought up his hand to rest clumsily at her hip, unsure where exactly to place it. Why had he asked her to do this, again? He was clearly just going to embarrass himself.

Wherever he had settled it, though, she seemed content with, and she smoothed her hand up from his chest to rest on his shoulder. The line of contact seared like fire over him, and he made some noise in his throat. He hoped she hadn’t heard.

With their other hands clasped together, they swayed gracelessly, but he didn’t mind, and she didn’t seem to neither, a broad smile stretching her face. Her rings felt cool pressed against the heat of his palm. She kept laughing every now and then, stepping on his toes or knocking their knees together. He couldn’t find it in him to care.

He attempted a twirl at some point, but halfway through she fell backwards, losing her balance. He reached out and caught her, selfishly letting her head and back fall against his chest. “Y’alrigh’?” he slurred.

She tilted her head back, her face upside down, looking up at him with a sly grin. The campfire light caught her chest and jaw. “Better now in these big arms o’ yours, cowboy.” She winked, a stupid grin on her face.

He almost dropped her out of surprise. He stiffened, forcing out an awkward laugh that he hoped sounded casual.

This was ridiculous, he wasn’t some blushing schoolgirl. She was just teasing. He willed his taut muscles to relax.

“‘S that right?” he brought his arms around her to cage her in, linking his hands together by the front of her hips一two can play at this game, Miss (L/N). He leaned his head down by her face. “How ‘bout now?” he cooed.

The grin dropped from her face, her eyes wide as she looked up at him, an embarrassed flush painting her cheeks. Damn, he hadn’t meant to come off like Micah.

His grip loosened, nervous now. (Y/N) wasn’t nearly as close with him as the other girls were, and he inwardly cursed himself for getting familiar with her like this. If only Mary-Beth or someone else had been nearby when he’d asked to dance一he could’ve pretended like he’d been asking them. Shit, he would’ve danced with John if he had to.

“I’m probably about perfect, now,” she recovered, her laugh ringing up towards him like a bell. She moved her head back to face forward, snuggling back against his chest.

He exhaled, a stupid grin overtaking his face. He began to rock them side-to-side, listening to the campfire song that had sprung up between Bill and Karen, the latter perched on a certain Irishman’s lap. Arthur hummed along under his breath, resting his chin on her head. Her hair was soft, still, just like the first time. This was nice. She was nice.

He wasn’t sure when his eyes had drifted closed, but (Y/N) made no attempt to leave his bear hug, and he found himself thankful for it. He felt his throat still rumbling with song, but wasn’t sure if he was humming anymore or actually singing.

“You don’t mind if I take over from here, do you, Arthur?” an amused voice whispered beside him. He cracked his eyes open, dragging his chin across her head to look at Hosea. The man was staring at him with a sort of fond pity, and he didn’t like it. He wasn’t a child. (Y/N) moved out from his embrace and he stepped back, keeping his hands up to steady her if he needed to.

She swayed, but Hosea caught her arm, throwing it over his shoulder and stepping in front of her. “Oh, hello, Hosea,” she greeted politely, but glanced around in confusion. Hosea jutted his chin over to where Arthur stood behind her, and she craned her neck to look at him.

He felt awkward and big and out-of-place, now, all by himself. He flexed his hands by his side and gave her a tight smile.

“Thank you for dancing with me, Arthur,” she said sweetly, her gaze fixed on him. The red bloom of drink had held steadfastly to her cheeks, her eyes glinting in the light of the oil lamps.

He felt himself nod and grunt some sort of response before he turned on his heel and trudged off towards his tent. That was enough drinking for him.

~Journal updated.

On one side, a detailed sketch of a plant, the words “Indian Tobacco” scrawled next to it. On the other side, a sketch of (Y/N) in the morning, her blanket tightly wrapped around her shoulders. There are the beginnings of a focus on her hair, with a random sharp line dragged to the side, as if the artist was startled.

[cozy-writer]

The roommate agreement

Pairing: Abby Anderson x Reader

Summary: Abby has an important question for you.

Wordcount: 180

Masterlist

“Oh, Manny.” I groan internally when I hear Manny’s date moan his name just a couple feet to the right of me. I turn over in bed and bury my head into Abby’s chest, placing my leg over hers. 

“Make it stop.” I whine. She lets out a snort and starts tracing my bare leg with her fingers. 

“I told you we should have gone to yours tonight.” 

“I don’t think my room would have been any better.” I argue. “Louise has a tendency to bring blokes home without asking too.” 

“Which is why I think we should try to get a room for ourselves.” Abby murmurs in my ear. I perk up. 

“Do you mean what I think you mean?” She smiles at me. 

“Let's move in together.” I jump her bones, straddling her on the bed. I bow down and pepper her face with kisses.

“Is that a yes?” She smirks. 

“Yes, its a fucking yes.” I smile back at her. She grabs my face with her hands and pulls me down, kissing me hard.

[babiebom]

When You Fall(ii)

A/N: I hope y'all enjoyed the first chapter, this story is going to be angst filled, at least for the first several chapters. 

Previous Next Masterlist

TW: depression, talks of self harm, clinics

WC:2.9k

The smell of bleach burns your nose before you fully come to. Your vision is hazy around the edges, eyes burning due to the bright lights above you. You flutter your eyelashes, sitting up quickly, ignoring the pain in your limbs. 

There are other beds around you, all empty and neatly made up. You breathe in deeply through your mouth, unable to call out like you want to, the burning sensation in your throat making any sound hurts it. 

You hear the soft squeaking of hinges, only able to see the corner of a door swinging open. A man appears from the doorway, his eyes warm and lips covered by the bushy mustache that sat below his nose. You stared with your mouth agape, the scene somewhat reminding you of that one scene in a vampire movie you hadn't seen in a while. 

Though, the man was obviously human, face slightly red near his cheeks as if he wasn't expecting you to be awake yet. "Farmer! You're awake! I'm glad. His smile sent butterflies in your stomach, and the fact that he was in a doctor's coat made your decisions seem extra stupid, because now you look like a fool in front of who you assume is town doctor, though it being a small town he's probably not even a real one.

"Yeah…what happened?" You hoped if you feigned confusion that it would seem like one big accident, you were farming for the very first time after all.

"Someone found you passed out on your farm."

"Someone did?" You wonder what anyone could've been doing on your farm, but then again these were country folk who probably stopped by to introduce themselves and scope you out. 

"Yeah, and I have to say you're very lucky she-" he coughs to cover up his mistake, "-they did. If they had found you any later you might've not made it." His kind eyes held some disappointment and worry in them.

You grimace in your seat, swinging your legs over the edge, the need to escape flooding your senses. "I'll be more careful, promise."

"Good," the man sucks in a breath, now looking elsewhere as he begins to back out of the room. "I'm going to send in the nurse with medicine to help you heal quicker."

You nod, letting your feet dangle above the ground, attempting to shoot the man a smile. As soon as he exited the room, you let your shoulders fall, exhausted from...well exhausting yourself. It was as if the choice you made was purposefully making itself worse than it normally would've been. As if it was making a point against you doing something stupid again, though you know you would still self sabotage again. Forcing yourself to pass out didn't really help anything, if anything it made you feel even shittier. You could feel the gazes of your now deceased family members on your head, all looking at you in disappointment and worry. 

As soon as you began to drown in your thoughts, the door swung open again, less gently than last time, almost smacking the wall behind it. Taken aback, you wonder how this person became a nurse, and the second you see her the thought is only amplified. 

The woman that enters is pretty, but more in a soft and unassuming kind of way, like you had to be seeing her for her beauty to reveal itself. She's also very young, she looks as if she's your age or even younger. Definitely not old enough to have a degree in the medical field, at least with how long you're assuming a nursing degree takes. 

She bites her lip and frowns, looking back at the door before entering the rest of the way. She clears her throat, shuffling over to you silently. "So, um, Doctor Harvey is prescribing you some Tylenol and an energy tonic. We have both here so you won't need to buy them, he's giving you them for free this time."

You nod, relieved that the medicine was free and you wouldn't have to pay for it. You lost your medical insurance after quitting the Joja job. Taking the medicine from her hands, you immediately down the energy tonic, the taste slightly sour on your tongue. Immediately you feel rejuvenated, your body returning to a state that you hadn't felt in years. You roll your shoulders back, blinking rapidly to get used to the feeling of being perfectly rested. You still felt shitty emotionally, but at least that wasn't bogged down by being half dead from working and not getting enough sleep.

"Wow, ok." You speak in surprise, the woman smiles brightly at you, unsurprised. 

"Yeah! Works pretty well huh?"  

"Totally," you slide off of the bed, not even stumbling. That tonic makes you feel as good as new, and you fight the urge to buy a million to keep in your house. 

She rocks on her heels, looking around before her eyes settle on you. She looked so giddy, as if she had been waiting to say something. "If you ever feel tired or like passing out again don't hesitate to stop by!" Her eyes look like mini crescent moons as she smiles at you, lighting up the room. 

"Will do." She leads you out of the room and towards what you assume is the lobby. 

"I'm Maru, by the way," she turns to look at you as she begins to talk, you nod in response, "I've been looking forward to meeting you," you can almost see the excitement roll off of her in waves, "you know, with a small town like this, a new face can really alter the community dynamic. It's exciting!" 

Your eyebrows raise in surprise, now embarrassed that this is her first impression of you. Grimace at her, trying to come up with something to say to make the situation less awkward on your end. "Some impression huh?"

She shrugs, still looking at you warmly. You both stop right before the doors where you now know the lobby is, being able to see through the small window on the door. "I mean, you're grieving. I think it's to be expected of someone that's lost so much in so little time. Along with moving, it's no surprise that you ran out of steam."

"You know about…" you can't even bring up the deaths without getting choked up. Maru looks shocked and horrified at the situation, her face contorting in surprise.

"I- oh god, I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have brought it up. It was insensitive of me. Crap." She bites her lip awkwardly and now hurries to get you through the doors. You want to ask again how'd she know, so that's exactly what you do. Ask again, but also skirt around certain words. Did everyone know?

"Um, well," she closes her eyes, breathing out, "I mean, everyone knows. Your grandfather was loved here, and when he…everyone was sad. Then the um, graves popped up and we put two and two together…I'm super sorry if I hurt your feelings or anything. I swear it wasn't my intention."

You shake your head, now preoccupied with the thought of everyone knowing, whispering, talking about your parents and grandfather, about you before you even had the chance to meet them all. You wonder why Maru even wanted to meet you. Was it pity? Pure curiosity? Did everyone pity you? Did everyone want to meet you in ways that were similar to meeting a baby lion or something at the zoo? As if you were a stray dog on the verge of being put down at a kennel? 

Wrapped up in your thoughts, you finally leave the clinic, going by distant memories to get back home. There was no need to sleep now, though with the storm inside of your head the mental exhaustion had come back. Within those thoughts, you wondered how long it was until they all went away.

As soon as you got home you had to leave.

You had gotten a letter, from someone named Willy, down at the beach. So, instead of pushing yourself to the brink of death again you decide to meet him, doubting anyone in the valley could be dangerous. There were only so many people that lived here to begin with, and even if he did turn out to be dangerous or deranged, you doubted that at this moment you would put up any sort of fight. 

The walk was long, about 30 minutes from your farm to the entrance of the beach, your breaths were coming out in puffs, your chest heaving. You would need to exercise more if you were to do this often enough to make any money. Sitting at a desk all day made your stamina nonexistent, and you regretted not visiting more often in your older years. Maybe if you did you would be less tired. 

As soon as you saw the fish shop you sighed with relief, sweat had begun forming a thin sheet over your body. Your steps picked up as you approached the building that looked as old as your farmhouse, the salty smell of the ocean assaulting your nose. The sun was high overhead now, beaming directly down onto the sea making the world around you brighter. 

Hurrying, you almost head straight to the doors, wanting to escape the sun; but instead you see a man at the edge of the pier, a patchy brown hat on top of messy brown hair. He was smoking silently, eyes focused on the water below. The sound of your footsteps seemed louder than normal in your ears, the thuds echoed around you disturbing the serenity of the beach. The man turns when he hears you, tired eyes searching yours for a second before he speaks.

"Ahoy there. Heard there was a newcomer in town…good to finally meet ya." The man sounds like a stereotypical fisherman, maybe a little like a pirate. He puts out his pipe after puffing it once more, blowing the smoke away from the both of you. He rolls his shoulders, a small grimace settling over his face.

"Ah…I'm still tryin' to unwind from a month out on the salty seas… it was a big haul! I sold a lot of good fish. Finally saved enough to buy me a new rod." He smiles softly. 

"That's good…" you don't know how to respond, so you say what first came to your mind, wanting to not make the conversation stale, though you think your attempt didn't help at all. Willy moves closer to you, away from the edge of the pier. 

"Here," he hands you a fishing rod, the gift unfamiliar in your hands, "I want you to have my old fishing rod. It's important to me that the art o' fishing stays alive. And hey, maybe you'll buy somethin' from the shop once in a while."

You nod, inspecting the rod, tears kissing the corner of your eyes. It was kind of him to give you a rod for free, you didn't know how much they cost, but even an old one like this had to be expensive. "There's a good water here in the valley. All kinds o' fish."

"Thank you…I don't know how to repay you or…?"

The man shakes his head, waving you off. When you get in front of the doors to his shop, he calls out to you again. "Oh yeah. My shops back open now, so come by if you need supplies. I'll also buy anything you catch. 'If it smells, it sells'."

You can see how brightly his eyes shine when he laughs from where you are. It makes your heart ache, he was so much like a grandfather in his actions that it made you somewhat sad. "That's what my ol' Pappy used to say anyway."

You smile at him before nodding and taking off towards the beach again, ready to flop into your still unslept in bed. 

The walk home was faster, mostly because you avoided everyone and sped through the town. You could feel them looking at you, as if you were something to gawk at. And to them, you supposed you were. A fresh face in a stagnant town that rarely got new people that were staying for the long haul, a visitor that was passing through or two, but never a new resident. By the time you got home, mostly due to your dodging, your chest felt heavy and your lungs burned. You sucked in breaths as you closed the gate and walked up to your cottage. 

Now that you were inside, and not in a self sabotaging mood, you took the time to really look around. The place was practically empty, no kitchen, no living room, no bathroom. All there was was an ancient television and a twin sized bed pushed into a corner along with dusty decorations. You groaned, running a hand down your face, so this is what Robin meant when she was saying your home needed an upgrade. You now understood what she meant by crusty. 

It was a surprise your grandfather had survived as long as he did living here, what did he do to eat? How'd he take showers or poop or just live in general. Turning on the tv, you frown when you notice only a handful of channels on the tv, some of them only showing static when you switched to it. Laughing in disbelief, you turn away from the stupid thing. It was going to take a long time to get used to this.

In the middle of the room, you spot a box you had ignored before, the thing wrapped up half heartedly as a gift. Taking off the top and looking inside, you spot a small bag of seeds. There was a short letter from Lewis attached to the bag, saying it was a gift for you to get started with your farming. Obviously, you need to be able to grow a plant and care for animals to be a farmer. Sighing, you trudge outside, dragging your tools behind you. You had to do this at least, before you went to sleep for the next couple of hours. 

The farm was still messy, and over exerting yourself the day before just set you back. So, pulling your pants up and adjusting yourself, you get to work to catch up for missed time. 

Pulling weeds, cutting down trees, and smacking rocks with your pickaxe seemed to make you feel better, as if you were beating something up. Maybe a little violent, but it was helping nonetheless. Sweat drips down your forehead, thinking back to your childhood your grandfather and grandmother made this seem easier than it actually was. Even just planting the parsnips took more energy than you thought it would. 

By the time you had finished, your back ached and your stomach was growling. Raising your wrist to look at the time, you wonder if 12 was too early to go to bed. Your thoughts swirl around your head, trying to justify if you went to rest now. You tried telling yourself that you would only nap, then it devolved into thinking you could sleep for the rest of the day and all night until you had to get up in the morning; it was most likely unrealistic but the ache in your back told you to go ahead and do whatever as long as you got to sleep. 

You drag yourself inside after making sure your crops are watered, your stomach still growling loudly. Opening a suitcase, you sigh with relief that past you decided that packing your snacks and some things from your pantry was a good idea. You eat some peanut butter on crackers and take a long swig from a water bottle, throwing yourself on your bed after making sure your mess was cleaned and the rest of your crackers and peanut butter were sealed back in your suitcase. 

As you lie there, you inspect your skin. You had already begun to tan by staying out in the sun all day, and you wondered just how hot the summer was going to be if you were already dying in the sun. Maybe the clinic had some sunscreen, you had already met Maru, and doctor Harvey so going back wasn't as bad as going to the grocery store in town.

You made a mental list of all the tasks you needed to do, hoping you could put off talking to people for a little longer. All they would probably do is talk about your grandfather or look at you with pity and curiosity the entirety of your conversation. 

As you adjusted yourself to try and sleep, you imagined yourself back in your apartment in Zuzu City. You imagined life hadn't changed and you were living your old life, but in your imagination you were a much better child and grandchild than you had been in real life. You visited and were bubbly and cheery just as you were as a kid. As your eyes flutter closed, and you begin to drift off to sleep you can feel fresh, hot tears rolling down your cheeks regret settling in your chest as you begin the transition between your active daydreams to whatever dream you would have while you were sleeping. 

In the back of your mind, you just hoped the dream wouldn't be nightmares instead.

[galaxygirl223]

A Semi-Farming Life: Yandere Stardew Town x Female Reader - Chapter 6: Meeting Jodi and Vincent

TW: mentions of violence, general yandere behaviors (fairly tame chapter ngl)

Sam’s face lights back up after I reluctantly agree, and we all head towards the south river. I hadn’t ever been in this area, though I remember Robin mentioning Elliott lived on the south beach past the river. I would definitely be staying clear of that area. Abigail smiles warmly and takes my hand, holding it tightly in her grip as Sam and Sebastian walk in front, leading the way. We walk past a light cream house with a sun above the door and I tilt my head, curious about who may live inside. I know I haven’t met a majority of the town yet, and though Alex was… less than subpar, most of the people I’ve met have been kind, if not slightly strange. Maybe my fears weren’t warranted. These three saved me! Maybe I could continue to meet-

My thoughts are cut off by Sam unlocking the door to the next house, an unsaturated blue with a dark plum roof. I certainly hadn’t seen such unique buildings and houses back in the city. The door swings open to a homey living room and kitchen with a small redhead child playing with toys on the couch and a shorter woman cooking on the stove, back turned to us.

“Hey mom, I’m home. Sam and Abigail are gonna stay the night. Oh, and Y/N’s here, too.” She quickly turns to face us, wiping her hands off on her apron while walking into the living room, eyes wide and motherly.

“Hello, darling. I’ve been hoping to meet you. I’m Jodi, and you’re welcome in my home anytime, alright?” The younger boy ambles over, looking me over cautiously as he stands behind Jodi. “Oh, Vincent, this is Y/N. She’s the new farmer everyone’s been talking about.” He meekly waves before gathering his toys and hurriedly running off into a smaller side room, presumably his bedroom.

“Don’t worry about him, Y/N. He’s just shy.” Sam laughs lightly and puts a hand on my shoulder, patting it. “He’s my little brother. He’s usually running around with that Jas kid, Marine’s niece. You met them yet?” I quickly shake my head, biting my lip. This town really is bigger than I thought.

“Good.” Sebastian coldly adds, frowning. “Anyone associated with Shane is bad news. Hell, anyone associated with most people here are shit.” Abigail awkwardly laughs, taking Seb’s arm.

“Come on, Seb, we can talk about this later. Don’t scare Y/N out of this.” She speaks quietly through gritted teeth, the room turning unsure. He rolls his eyes but doesn’t respond.

“Hey mom, we’re gonna hang in my room until dinner. Maybe do some band practice. That okay?” Sam grins, breaking the ice as best he can.

She rolls her eyes playfully and sighs. “Of course, Sam, just make sure to be in the kitchen by 6:30.” Sam nods and the others head into the other room to the right. Jodi stops me and quickly asks, “do you have any allergies, dear? I just want to make sure you’re well-fed whenever you’re here.” I take a deep breath, her motherly aura relaxing me slightly, and reply with my allergies. She listens intensely, making mental notes before beaming and heading back towards the kitchen. Sam takes my hand and leads me into his bedroom, closing and locking the door behind me.

Seb and Abigail are already set up at the instruments, Sebastian on the keyboard and Abigail on the drums. Sam leads me over to his bed, gently pushing me down on it before letting go of my hand. I giggle quietly, sitting up to watch them set up. Sam grabs an electric guitar and turns back to me.

“Any requests? Any genres you like?” I tilt my head, slightly embarrassed about choosing what they play.

“W-well, I like rock a bit-”

“Perfect! Rock it is.” He looks between the other two, counting down as they begin to play. Time passes and they all relax, especially Sebastian, until the clock rings at 6:30. Sam sighs but tries to keep his attitude peppy, putting down the guitar on the stand and leading us back into the kitchen. Vincent is already seated with a bowl of soup, and the rest of us go through the line, taking a bowl and filling it up before sitting down. When it came to my turn, she quickly took my bowl and gestures towards an empty seat.

“Oh, don’t worry, dear. I’ll get your bowl for you.” I’m confused but am too new to this family to question it too much. Maybe she’s just trying to be nice. I sit at the table, and she sets the bowl in front of me before sitting across from me. Although everyone is talking and smiling, I can’t help but feel unnerved as she stares at me with a wide smile whenever I take a bite, though it does taste amazing.

“So,” I mumble, not knowing what to talk about, “Who lives next door? In the cream house?” Her face shifts to disgust, though it's clear she tries to hide it.

‘It doesn’t matter. They’re all weird, anyways. Obsessed with crystals and all that… hippie stuff. Don’t worry about them. Just know you’re welcome over here whenever you like.” My shoulders tense, now slightly uncomfortable by the quick emotional shift, just like Sam had done earlier. As soon as the meal ends, I put my bowl in the sink and quickly give the three others a thank you for protecting me before rushing to the door, though I’m stopped by Sebastian.

“It's late. I’ll walk you home.” Before I can disagree, he gets close to my face, speaking sharply. “I’m walking you hope, whether you agree or not. Just think of what’ll happen if Alex comes back.” I can’t argue with that logic, though being alone with Sebastian, the dark, controlling one of the group, gives me a pause. I take a deep breath, begrudgingly taking his hand as he shuts the door behind us. He takes us the long way, northward and towards the bus stop, walking slowly and tightly holding my hand in a vice grip. “You wanted to meet Sam’s neighbors, too. Don’t. And while you’re at it, don’t meet Shane. He’s not as bad as Alex, but he’s a drunk and volatile.” He loosens his grip a bit, tone dropping into something more vulnerable. “If one of us isn't there to save you, if I’m not there-” He sighs, stopping outside the farmhouse and taking my arms in his grip. “Promise me you’ll stay away from everyone else. It’s not safe. We’ll protect you. Promise me.”

I feel trapped, like a fawn in a hunter’s line of sight. I pause for a moment before agreeing, wanting this to all be over. He may be more vulnerable than usual and have good intentions, but even having only met him today, I can sense his overt possessiveness. “I-I will. I promise. Have a good night.” I quickly add, stepping away and into the farmhouse. The last thing I see before closing the door is Sebastian staring up at me, eyes glazed and pinpoint.

[nettlesomecorvid]

Abigail stabbing Frank in the hand with a pencil, but Joey is out of band-aids

you have one, but it's a Hello Kitty one and he has to wear it the entire time

[it-aint-easy-being-cheesy]

I came up with a few dialogue prompts!! Like I said this coming up fic will be for one of the bachelors of Stardew Valley, haven’t decided just yet but I’ll figure it out!!

[cece693]

THERAPY WORKS (WELL, KINDA)

pairing: hannibal lecter x male reader synopsis: You thought going to couple's therapy would be beneficial in solving your arguments with Hannibal, however, when they suggests time apart, it doesn't end well...for them.

The fights began as hairline cracks—quiet spats over forgotten phone calls and Hannibal’s vanishing acts at ungodly hours. You could endure the secrecy (you knew what prowled behind it), but lately his disappearances coincided with dinners you’d planned, concerts you’d bought tickets for months in advance. It stung that he could slice time so cleanly for complete strangers and yet leave you waiting amid candle stubs.

Hannibal, for his part, chafed at what he called your evasions: the way you snapped your laptop shut when he entered the study, or the deflections whenever he inquired about the dull ache in your shoulder—bruises you never quite explained. He smelled someone else’s sweat in the fibers of your coat after late-night walks, and jealousy coiled like smoke in his lungs.

One dawn, after a fight so sharp it left both your throats raw, you said the unsayable. “We need help. Neutral help.” Hannibal despised neutrality—an admission that you might not be equals, that his view might be flawed. Yet he saw the toll lining your eyes and, pride bent, agreed to therapy.

Dr. Miriam Gold’s office smelled of lavender and lightly scorched tea—an aroma meant to soothe, already frayed by the tension you and Hannibal dragged across the threshold. You sat hip-to-hip on the small sofa, both too proud to create distance, too angry to relax into closeness. Dr. Miriam Gold crossed her legs, notebook balanced on one knee. “Let’s begin with what brings you here.”

You inhaled. “We’re stuck in the same argument every week. I plan a night out; Hannibal disappears. No call, no text—just vanishes.”

Hannibal’s smile was polite, tight. “Emergencies arise in my practice.”

“Mid-concert?” you snapped. “Mid-anniversary dinner?”

His eyes narrowed a fraction. “You assume malice where necessity suffices.”

Dr. Gold lifted a hand. “One at a time. Hannibal, can you respond without explaining—just acknowledging his feeling?”

He inclined his head toward you. “I acknowledge your disappointment.” A beat. “Now acknowledge mine. You hide bruises. Last month I smelled foreign cologne on your coat—”

“Because the restaurant’s waiter politely escorted me to a taxi—after you vanished with the car midway through entrées for whatever extracurricular you won’t name,” you snapped, fingers digging crescents into your own thigh.

Hannibal’s return look was polished steel. “You presume the worst when I am detained by obligation.”

“Oh, forgive me for not applauding your obligations,” you shot back. “My evening ended in a rain-soaked curb because your clients—or your conscience—doesn’t seem to work when I need it.”

Dr. Gold cleared her throat, pen poised. “Let’s stay with that feeling. Abandonment—”

“Abandonment implies intent,” Hannibal corrected, still maddeningly calm. “My intent was to give clarity to those who need it.”

“Your intent,” you echoed, voice rising, “never includes calling. Or texting. Or remembering I exist until you need a prop at the opera.”

A flash of irritation cracked Hannibal’s composure. “And your nightly excursions? The bruises you pretend are furniture mishaps? Must I applaud those deceptions in turn?”

You half-rose from the couch. “If you suspect an affair, Hannibal, say it with your chest instead of forensic sniff-tests!”

The air rippled with the volume spike; the porcelain wind chimes above the sill quivered. Hannibal’s voice dropped to icewater. “You close your laptop the instant I enter your study. You slip from the house after midnight and return cloaked in strangers’ cologne. You lock the bathroom door when you shower.” His head tilted, scalpel-precise. “Are you unfaithful?”

“No,” you spat back. “All the things you name are my way of claiming one square foot of privacy in this god-forsaken marriage. But you catalog every breath like it’s evidence for something it’s not.”

Hannibal’s pupils dilated—less fury than hurt, sudden and raw. “God-forsaken? Do you so readily discard vows we forged in blood?” He leaned in, voice dropping to a tremor-steady hiss. “Our marriage is sanctum, not scaffolding to kick aside the moment it feels tight.”

Your own anger flared hotter. “Sanctum shouldn’t feel like solitary confinement!”

He surged a half-step forward; the porcelain wind chimes clattered. “Confinement? I have given you a cathedral of devotion. You treat it like a jail cell when it suits your dramatics.”

“At least a jail cell has scheduled visits,” you shot back.

Dr. Gold’s voice cut through, loud now: “Both of you—stop." When she spoke again her voice was softer, but edged with professional alarm.

“Your attachment style is fused to the point of combustion. The jealousy, the surveillance, the secrecy—these are symptoms of mutual enmeshment. I’m recommending an immediate, time-limited separation. One week. Separate residences, separate routines. Each of you will cultivate outside support so that this relationship isn’t the only pillar holding up your lives.”

The words hung like a guillotine blade.

You heard your pulse in your ears. “You want us to—room with strangers, pretend we’re single?”

“Not pretend,” she corrected gently. “Develop healthy differentiation. Dependence is intoxicating, but it corrodes intimacy over time.”

Hannibal’s smile resurfaced—no longer tight, but glacially calm. “Doctor, you are asking the moon and its tide to consider independent orbits. Their nature is interdependence.”

“And when the tide erodes the shoreline?” she countered. “We adapt or we drown.”

Silence. You felt Hannibal’s hand slide over yours—almost unnoticed, almost reflexive. His thumb stroked the inside of your wrist once, twice, and you realized the gesture was not for comfort; it was a pulse-check, a confirmation that you still beat beneath his touch.

Dr. Gold misread the moment as agreement and offered a serene smile. “Good. I’ll have my assistant send guidelines.” She glanced at the clock. “We’re at time.”

You rose together, perfectly synchronized. “Thank you for your guidance,” you said, voice marble-cold.

Hannibal offered a bow so elegant it bordered on contempt. “We appreciate the clarity you’ve provided.”

Neither of you spoke another syllable until the office door closed behind you. Then—only the soft click of Hannibal’s tongue against his teeth as you walked the corridor, two shadows braided so tightly they cast a single shape.

Forty-eight hours later Dr. Miriam Gold’s body would be found arranged beneath her own lavender affirmations, vocal cords removed, hands folded in permanent silence. Baltimore headlines would name the Chesapeake Ripper. And in the hush of your townhouse, where no counselor would ever intrude again, you and Hannibal would find yourselves shoulder-to-shoulder, arguments bled away, devotion lacquered to a murderous gleam. Couples therapy, in its own terrible way, had worked.

[theimmortalityofthecrab]

I have at least 3 other fics I’ve started (Alma Peregrine/reader, Narcissa/reader, Tess tlou/reader and Abigail rdr/reader) all no more than 6k words in, (not to mention the other fics I’m in the middle of that I’ve posted) and YET the idea of doing a resident evil/Stardew valley crossover where Alcina runs a vineyard (bit like Sophia in sdw expanded) with reader waltzing onto the scene with their newly inherited farm ready to wreak heartbreak and havoc is too heckin tempting…

[monstiemiru]

SDV Cloud Meadow/Monster Musume Au

I'm super excited for Stardew Valley 1.6 update that's coming next month so have some brain rot! (Note that Cloud Meadow is a adult game, so kids shouldn't go googling that). This is mainly just bullet point thoughts and stuff about my favorite trio! No actual NSFW or anything like that, just general stuff.

I'm just gonna call this The Stardew Ranch Au. I'll tag it as SDR.

If you're not familiar with Cloud Meadow or Monster Musume: most of the characters will be "monsters". Usually their looks will be mix of human and animal parts like a satyr or centaur for example. They act mainly human, but can have animalistic or monstrous tendencies.

In Cloud Meadow and Monster Musume monsters can live with people. In this case they live on a ranch. Farm monsters are housed in fancy barns.

Sam

100% a dogboy! He's a a golden retriever and german sheperd mix, perfect for the Ranch. His pawlike arms and legs are covered in blonde hair. He also has a blonde dog tail and ears. He's kind of short when compared to other monsters on the ranch.

Always first one to meet any new people or monsters on the farm

He can usually be found playing around with Abigail and Sebastian

Loves to follow you around, doesn't matter if you're a monster or a farmer. Insists that he's working as your guard dog. The holstaurs can look after themselves for a bit.

Please let him sleep with you. He promises he won't take up much space (lie, he will take up all the space)! Honestly Sam would love to sleep in a big pile with you, Sebastian and Abigail.

He also loves getting petted! Please scritch him behind his hears and tell him he's a good boy

Likes pulling pranks with Sebastian and Abigail. They have unofficial prank war going on between them and Vincent and Jas. It's usually harmless, but someone might have to step in now and then.

Sebastian

Sebby is holstaur! He has black fur with white spots on his arms and legs that end in hooves. His hair also has some white stripes in it. He has horns, bull ears and a lil tail to swat things with!

He has relatively small herd that's basically run by Abigail. Heifers (female holstaur) are drawn in by his calm nature, but can be offput when they realize that in the beginning he's very cold.

Sebastian is super slow to warm up to other monsters and farmers. He will warm up faster if he sees you being nice to his herd and friends.

Whenever he takes a nap or goes to sleep he will wake up surrounded by his herd (and Sam). There's no escape, only cuddle pile.

He's not very territorial, but he will defend his herd when needed.

Likes to bring you small gifts now and then, though he will act like it was just a coincidense. He just happened to have an extra apple or knick knack he found. This purple hair ribbon? Abigail had extra ones and he doesn't need it. Though after he warms up he'll be more open about the gifts.

Has a nose ring due to bad temper when he was younger

Abigail

Also a holstaur! She has purple fur with darker purple spots on her legs and tail. Honestly she looks very similar to Sebby.

Most likely to get into trouble. She loves adventuring in the nearby woods and has challenged bulls bigger than her before. She will ask you to join her on her adventures.

Can be found playing with the kids. They're either butting heads or playing make believe.

She has a habit of headbutting her favorite farmers. Headbutting her back will result in headache due to her much harder skull, but she will appreciate the gesture.

Has a nose ring like Sebby though hers was done in secret with Sam's help.

Will steal extra snacks for her and her bffs.

Will also beg for extra snacks from her favorite farmers.

I'll write more about the ranch au in the future! If you liked these feel free to send asks and stuff about it! Reader and characters can be farmers or monsters! You can also send nsfw asks if you'd like :3

[storycrafteddreams]

StoryCraftedDreams.

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Last updated: 6/19/2025

__________

ALL MASTER LISTS!

ALL ABIGAIL

ALL ANORA

ALL BETTER THINGS

ALL EUPHORIA

ALL JENNA ORTEGA

ALL MIKEY MADISON

ALL MILLER'S GIRL

ALL POWER UNIVERSE

ALL SCREAM

[caprisunnydays]

Stardew Valley x Reader Bachelor Headcanons

Alex

Before you and Alex got together, you probably became long time friends

He was def like "damn they hot" but then when it became more than just that he was like "DAMN THEY'RE HOT"

It's been a bit since he's felt those silly little butterflies, it genuinely makes him nervous

Que him leaning against a wall like "Hey bbg" but he's sweating bullets

After his confession, he feels much better, and the nervous air that only you could really pick up on has disappeared

Very PDA, arm is always around you, probably not in the back pocket but if he's tipsy enough then boom it appears

Insists on going in the mines with you but saw a slime and wanted to dip so bad but you protected him <3

"Heh...I totally wasn't scared. Don't worry babe I'll protect you" nah boy

He feels his heart melt every time he sees you and Evelyn baking together, or her just acting like your grandma

Even George has become a grandpa figure, giving advice with alex or general things

Alex is secretly insecure about himself, but with you, he finds room to grow as a person and find that those worries are unwarranted

Though he doesn't say it often, you make him feel seen, and he truly appreciates that

Elliot

(Personal fav right now so I'm about to go OFF)

If you picked romance for his book he's imagining you both as the main characters

Not a complete parallel because he's like "can't be creepy" but a teensy bit

Speaking of "can't be creepy" he has written multiple sonnets about you since realizing his feelings

Unlike some of the other bachelors, he embraces his feelings more, using his passion to inspire his writing and other endeavors

Heavy on the gifts and courting stuff

Gives you love poems at least once a week he has so many piled up but he doesn't wanna go overboard

Says the sappiest things all the time with this love struck look in his eyes

PRETTIEST MANNNNN

Words of affirmation kinda guy, he's poetic like that

Leah pokes at him for being a simp but mans could not care less he's proud

Picks out pretty sea shells that wash up on the shore and gives them to you, and they're always intact!

Big fan of the flower dance and looks forward to getting to dance with you in front of the entire town! maybe your worst nightmare but he's just happy to show you off (and his dancing skills lol)

Speaking of which, mans is gonna teach you how to waltz and a bunch of other old timey dances

At some point he WILL show up in the pouring rain to profess his love, or give you flowers, or both

You're like "Elliot we're literally dating was this necessary and he's like "OF COURSE MY DEAR"

He'd love heartstopper

Harvey

Insert too sweet by Hozier

Silly little doctor guy tries to avoid you but can't help but be drawn to you

He sees you running around doing your daily tasks, and just watches you from afar from the window of the doctor's office

Maru notices and tells you to come in sometime cuz her boss ain't gonna get nowhere by himself

When you start coming in more often he can feel himself die of embarrassment when he fails to make interesting conversation

Is very worried about your health though and fusses when you pass out in the mines/street

He gets even more adamant about you taking care of yourself once he's confessed

Way less nervous though!

Looks at you with adoration eyes when you do anything

Tipsy Harvey is a cute Harvey because he starts spilling his guts on how often he thinks of you

Whenever you're not busy with work he appreciates you stopping by the office, just to talk about both of your days

He yaps to everyone about you btw

Doesn't mean to but when someone brings you up he's like "oh yes me and my partner love to-" or "my partner loves-" etc etc

I used to not be a fan but he's such a sweetiepie

Sam

"I just love a guy who plays guitar <3" - u @Sam

That's it

I JEST

Originally he's like "hey come and hang out with me, Sebastian, and Abigail"

Then you start coming over and it's just you both alone

He's not creepy about it, just wants to spend time with you one on one

Loves showing you the songs he works on and if you want he'll show you how to play guitar too!

He's also happy with how well you get along with Jodi, always trying to get you both to bond, it makes him feel nice that you feel like you're apart of the family

Once y'all are together he does sneak you in anytime he gets the chance

He'll text you like "come over" You : I've gotta be up at 6am Him : "PLZPLZPLZPLZ-"

OG golden retriever bf

You both go shopping at Joja at 3am for fun and goof off

Or go run around in the forest taking aesthetically pleasing pintrest photos

Sebastian

You can't tell me he's not an arctic monkeys kinda guy so insert R U Mine? By Arctic Monkeys

It took him time to warm up to you

When he did you became one of the few people he could hang out with after a long day of socializing and not feel drained around

I can see him doing things that aren't always super platonic and thinking he wants to do them because

"Platonically" holding your hand, cuddling, etc

At town events he stands all close to you, complaining about how much he hates it, but showing disappointment when you mention leaving

Everyone's like are y'all dating and he goes NO way too fast

When you both finally ARE together though he's actually much less affectionate and public, but it doubles when you're in the comfort of his basement room

Finds the most joy in keeping you trapped in his bed with him until noon when you say you should be working on your farm

Especially in the colder months, then you can also share his mom's pumpkin soup

He's almost catlike with his affection

Another guy you run around and take aesthetically pleasing pintrest photos with, but his are more grunge esk

"Accidentally" leaves his hoodies at your place but he likes seeing you in em

I imagine that the characters have those closets filled with the same outfit, so when you try and give him his stuff back he goes "nah" and whips out his 100th hoodie

Shane

PACK IT UP SAVIOUR COMPLEX I mean what who said that

After you rescue him from the depths of his depressive alcoholism, he feels guilty for having feelings for you

Part of it is because he's like "fuck do I actually like them or is it just cuz they basically saved my life" and partly because it feels painfully stereotypical

Not a lot changes, though he is a lot more open to you then he is with other people, even with Marnie

Helps out with your chickens when he has free time

Talks to them about his problems and once you almost walked in on him ranting about his feelings for you (bro was shook)

But once he's confessed, well, he's still insecure about some things, but accepts your help with stride

Jealous easily, but tries not to show it

Acts of service kinda guy, so if you need him to run an errand while you're swamped with farm work? He's on it

Pulls up to your farm with a bunch of snacks and a bag full of movies for you to pick from

He sets it up while you take a shower to wash all the grime and dirt off from a days work so you can just come and cozy up on the couch with him

You're also basically besties with Jas, such a sweet girl, always asks you to play jump rope with her

You both go "say no to drugs" to her l o l

Marnie is also now your bestie so even when she's not working you can get stuff from the shop #WIN

I loooooove stardew valley it's so cool so great