Text
Grab Attention with Customised Counter Candle Boxes in the UK
Generic packaging blends into the background. Custom counter candle boxes let you showcase your brand's unique personality and design aesthetic.
youtube
0 notes
Text
3rd of july ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆.˚ nanami kento
piece written in collaboration with my beloved friend and one of my favorite people, @rahuratna, for nanami's (a.k.a. internet's collective husbando) birthday. 💜🧡 content warning: fluff/comedy/sugestiveness word count: 1k
Nanami wasn't one to make big celebrations on his birthday. Up until he met you, he'd usually go about his work day quietly, saving up a few extra hours to simply go bowling or visit his favorite restaurants for dinner.
After you both started dating, not much had changed. You'd simply tag along for whatever he had planned, and would usually surprise him with something by the time you both got home - a box of dark chocolate, a new set of lingerie, a nice warm scented bath, a new CD album he had been looking for.
This time, however, you decided to push your luck on teasing the poor man.
On his birthday, of all days.
"Kento, how do you feel about surprise parties?" you ask, hiding the smile pulled on your cheeks behind your tea cup.
On the couch by your side, you could feel Nanami holding the urge to flinch the moment you were finished speaking.
"They are not my favorite," he answers in earnest.
"Seriously?" you inquire with a faux disheartened look.
"Yes," Nanami replies, with a tinge of concern to his voice.
"That is... unfortunate, then," you ensue, putting your tea on the coffee table and pulling your robe tighter around your body.
His Adam's apple bobs as he silently gulps.
"Why?"
"Well, my plan was to surprise you when you got home, but I figured you wouldn't want to get instantly jumped. So I told them to wait in the room," you finally say, with a grave finality, pointing to the closed bedroom door.
Truth is, he has no clue what you are really up to.
"Darling…" Nanami sighs, ever so patiently, "I thought it would just be the both of us unwinding, like the past years."
"I… I'm sorry, I really wanted to surprise you with something different this time."
You do sound regretful, and he plants a soft kiss on your cheek in response. Even now, he doesn't quite find it in himself to be annoyed at you, even if the prospect of Gojo lurking around his bedroom is enough to send disgusted shivers down his spine.
"It's… fine. Let's get this over with at once, and then have the house to ourselves."
"Are you sure? I could always go in there and tell them to-"
"No," he counters firmly. "You've arranged something a little different this year, and I'm going to appreciate it."
"Come on, then."
As perceptive as he is, Nanami doesn't notice the mischievous smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. Naturally, since you have successfully planted a seed in his mind, a terrifying image of his pristine suits being tried on by students and his custom made bowling ball being transformed into a disco light by the white-haired menace he calls a colleague.
When you reach the door and step aside for him, he visibly braces himself, fingers almost straightening a phantom tie at his throat.
"Sweetheart, I need to go and fetch a scarf. It's a little chilly in here."
Bless his heart. He's actually playing along.
You raise your voice.
"Oh, I left the blue one on the top shelf. Your closet."
"Right."
Nanami heads in with the air of a man charging from the trenches to face a volley of cannon fire. He stops dead in his tracks, eyes taking in the room.
It is empty of people, for starters.
The comforter on the bed has been pulled back, the white sheets scattered with rose petals. Candles have been placed strategically on the bedside table and vanity, emitting the subtle scent of the ocean. On a corner of the bed, a few ribbon-wrapped gifts await; a small stack of books and a box of his favourite dark chocolate with orange.
You saunter in behind him and he turns to you with a look that is both a solemn reprimand and a loving promise of a punishment you may appreciate later.
"Hmm. It's awfully crowded in here, my dear."
"Well, the rose petals were quite chatty, Kento. They've taken up all the space on our bed."
"They have indeed, you little-"
You laugh as you slip out of his reach, standing coyly in the doorway.
"Have a look at your gifts first."
He narrows his eyes, but approaches the bed, fingers unraveling the ribbon that holds the books together.
"What do we have here? 'The Master and Margarita.' Ah, wonderful. 'Bowling your way home: A salaryman's escape from bondage.'"
He pauses and raises an eyebrow and you gesture airily for him to keep going.
"Fine. What's this one? The-"
His voice cuts off abruptly.
"Kento? Are you all right?"
Very slowly, he turns to you.
"You got me the Kama Sutra?"
"I figured it would make a nice addition to your collection. I may even borrow it, from time to time."
You approach him now, casually opening the book to where you've placed a strategic leather marker within the section on sex positions.
"Since it's your birthday, maybe you'd like to start with the Virsha here?"
He considers the page seriously, before taking the book from you and flipping through it.
"I'm not sure, darling. You've put in enough effort setting all of this up."
Handing it back to you, he watches the flush that spreads upwards, across your neck as you are presented with the Indrani pose he has chosen instead.
"How about you let me do the work from here on out?"
"Well... "
"No, I insist."
His voice has that special intonation now, the husky rumble of desire, the inflection of hushed intimacy, the promise of that playful nature that only reveals itself when you're entangled in the sheets together.
You lay the book down, open to the very instructive illustration.
"In that case, let me present you with my last gift."
"There's another?"
Wordlessly, the robe you've been so studiously arranging around yourself slides to the floor. His kindling gaze takes in the sheer, violet lace, the tiny flowers embroidered strategically over the parts of you that he will discover at leisure.
***
Later, when the gossamer material lies discarded on the floor, when his exhausted limbs entwine with your own, when his golden hair runs like silk between your fingers, you speak into the hush of the bedroom.
"Happy birthday, my love."
His voice is muffled from where his face is pressed against your stomach.
"That was quite the surprise party."
"Maybe we should have one every year."
He snorts indignantly, but his lips curve in a smile against your skin all the same.
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#nanami kento#jjk nanami#jjk fanfic#kento nanami#jujutsu nanami#nanami x reader#nanami smut#nanami x reader fluff#kento nanami x y/n#kento nanami x you#kento nanami x reader#nanami x you#nanami x y/n#nanami kento x reader fluff#nanami kento x y/n#nanami kento x you#nanami kento x reader#kento x reader#kento x y/n#kento x you#jjk x reader fluff#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk x gender neutral reader#jjk drabbles#jjk fic#Fuku writes#rahuratna
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Sims 3 Build - Relaxation Retreat
A vibrant family home full of opportunities for fun and relaxation, with plenty of space for a budding gardener. 3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, on a 30x40 lot.
Watch the speed build: https://youtu.be/-7bnRL8bAsA
Download here:
Patreon (free): https://www.patreon.com/posts/111265768/
Exchange:
Expansion packs:
Ambitions
Late Night ?
Generations
Pets
Supernatural
Seasons
University Life
Stuff packs:
None
Store content:
Stones Throw Greenhouse - Greenhouse Window, Greenhouse Roof Center
Custom content:
heaven - Neutral Slate Roof with White Trim
missyzim - Neoclassic Build Set (Tall Wide 2x1, Tall Wide 1 Tile, Counter High 1 Tile, Tall 1 Tile)
Cakenoodles - 13pumpkin Rustic Wood Floor
Angela - Aiden Buildset 3x1 Arch
Martassimsbook - MyCupOfCC Hot Tub
Onyxium - Jena Bathroom Accessories (Reed Diffuser, Soap Dispenser, Toilet Brush, Tooth Brushes)
Mutske - Toiletroom Aria Toilet Paperholder
Gosik - Kobe Bathroom Towels 2
Martassimsbook - cmdesigns Anemone Bathroom Set Candle
Martassimsbook - Ars-botanica Cup of Pansies
Martassimsbook - Cowbuild Dahlia and Delpinium Vases
Mutske - Plant Palm Large
sim_man123 - Emerson Ficus Tree
Martassimsbook - novvvas Planties pt3 (Ficus Lyrata V1, Ficus Elastica, Monstera Deliciosa)
Martassimsbook - Cowbuild My Home Set (Hanging Pothos Plant)
ATS3 - Kitchen Herbs (Basil)
ArtVitalex - Mayorka Ceiling Spot Lamp
johziii - Irene Lamp
NynaeveDesign - Lyne Curtains (Curtains 1x1 Left, Curtains 1x1 Right, Curtains 2x1, Curtains 3x1, Rod)
ArtVitalex - Kalkgrund Mirror
Onyxium - Gibsonton Bed
Martassimsbook - Lorelea Floral Paintings
ArtVitalex - April Kitchen
ArtVitalex - Glen Mirror
Angela - Michelle Bedroom Mirror
ArtVitalex - Hampton Dining Chair
sweetdevil - More Planters (Prickly Planter)
sweetdevil - More Planters Part 3 (Fancy Box Planter)
Wandering Sims - Wildflower Mix Pattern 4
missyzim - French Country Paintings (Country Floral Painting, French Country Paintings 3, Provencial Painting)
Mutske - Liatorp Palm in Basket
Angela - Simspiration Issue 01 Watering Can
ArtVitalex - Upland Bathroom Accessories (Toilet Brush, Soap Dispenser, Toothbrush and Paste)
Twinsimming - Single Serve Hammock
Crowkeeper - The Cryptic Triptych Paintings (Enchanted)
ArtVitalex - Rowlett Hallway Extra (Key Bowl, Umbrella Holder)
Julietsimscc - Dark Landscapes Artwork
ArtVitalex - Doyle Pen Holder
Lulu265 - Bedford Bedroom Wall Art
deeiutza - Cottage Reading Corner Books
Martassimsbook - Pinkboxdesign Kitchen Clutter Set Dishsoap
Martassimsbook - Syboulette Millennial Kitchen Fruit Basket
ATS3 - Ceramic Canisters
Dhalsims - EA Ceiling Smoke Alarm
ATS3 - Wall Rack IKEA Fintorp-like
ATS3 - Washing-up Wooden Dish Rack
Martassimsbook - Cowbuild 500 Patrons Gifts Notebooks
Kerrigan House Designs - Belle Epoque Vanity
Martassimsbook - novvvas Mid Century Modern Living Room Books 2
QoAct - Lina Cushion II
sim_man123 - Celea Lily Vase
ATS3 - School Notebooks
ATS3 - Parisian Bistro Chair 4
bioniczombie - Tom Berry Knife Block
Martassimsbook - Chicklet Modern Lenai Patio (Chair, Box Deco)
Martassimsbook - Marvell Breeze Collection Plant
PralineSims - Contemporary Carpet 22
PralineSims - Big Flokati III
PralineSims - Classic Carpet 3
(Optional) zoe22 - Flower Arranging Mod (Table Used)
70 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Stranger Valentine: Steve Harrington One-Shot
A/N: Greetings! So here it is! After a very long hiatus, I'm finally back with a little one-shot for Steve Harrington. It is my first in a while and I hope it won't be my last. I'm a little nervous about it, but I might as well just stop overthinking and go for it. And oddly enough, this just so happens to be my blog's 7th anniversary! I hope you like it!
Happy Valentine's Day!
Description: Steve puts himself out there on Valentine's Day. (3292 words)
WARNINGS: FLUFF!
Love interest: Reader
It was a nice, breezy, and all together, regular day in Hawkins. A somewhat busy Monday for some businesses, including the Family Video. Customers had come and gone. The shelves ripped apart; most rentals gone by the evening. Surprisingly, things had died down for a bit, giving Steve and Robin a breath. The bell at the door rang as a couple of customers exited, giving way to Dustin.
“Hey, Robin!” He greeted.
“Hey, nerd.”
“I don’t take that as insult, no matter how many times you call me it,” Dustin said.
Steve then appeared from the back room. “Okay Robin, make a note, we are out of When Harry Met Sally, Flashdance, Splash, Footloose, Sixteen Candles, and Back to the Future. I just went over some inventory and those are the ones most asked for and the ones we are out of for now.” He glanced over the counter. “Sup, Henderson?”
“Do you have The NeverEnding Story?”
“On a school night?” Steve said as he stood behind the counter. He reached for the bin of returned movies while he looked at his young friend.
“Yeah, Susie and I are gonna watch it together on Valentine’s Day while we talk on the phone.”
“You are guys are so weird,” Robin said.
“Those are your Valentine’s Day plans?” Steve asked.
“Well, there really isn’t much to do at a distance. Plus, it doesn’t help that Valentine’s Day is on a Wednesday this year.”
“Right. Also, Valentine’s Day is two days away, why are you asking about the movie today?”
“The NeverEnding Story is a beloved film. It could just as easily be on your little list of out-of-stock movies.”
“Doubtful,” Robin said.
Out of nowhere, a VHS box fell to the ground. The sound earned the attention of the trio by the counter. Then, a hand was raised from behind one of the shelves.
“Sorry, that was my bad.” Someone’s voice rang. Their head poked up as well.
“You’re good,” Robin responded.
Steve failed to tear his eyes away. He watched as the girl continued to scan the films, while she enjoyed the music that played on her Walkman. Steve was pulled out of his trance by Dustin who snapped his fingers in his face.
“Hellooooo!?”
“What? What?”
Dustin looked between the shelves and Steve. “You really shouldn’t stare, Steve. It’s rude.”
“I often tell him,” Robin said as she flipped through the pages of a magazine she usually hid behind the counter.
“I wasn’t staring,” Steve said.
“Oh, you were just ogling at Y/N,” Dustin said.
Steve’s head snapped towards Dustin. “You know her?”
“Uh, yeah, most people do.”
“Huh? I could have sworn she just moved here.”
“No, she moved back,” Robin added.
“What you know them too?”
“Duh, dingus.”
“How do you both know her, and I don’t?”
“Probably because you were too busy being King Steve.”
“Ugh!”
“Yup! Y/N was in your year,” Dustin said.
“How do you know anything about her?”
“She babysat Mike and I a couple of times.”
“And you know her how, Robin?”
“She tutored me in algebra.”
Suddenly, Y/N made her way over to the counter with a couple of films in hand, cutting the trio’s conversation short.
“Okay, I think that’s enough browsing for the day,” she said as she removed her headphones.
“Hey, Y/N!” Dustin smiled.
“Dustin Henderson? Look at you! You’ve gotten taller!”
“And you’ve stayed the same.” “Well, I think I hit my growth spurt too early and ran out quickly.”
“It happens.”
“Hi, Robin!” She glanced at Steve. “Hi, Steve.”
“Hey, Y/N!”
“Hi,” Steve said shyly.
Robin moved to the computer on the counter while Y/N handed the movies to her.
“How long will you be renting these for?”
“Um, you can put me down for two nights. Seems like you guys have been really busy, today.”
“Yeah, it’s been oddly hectic for Valentine’s Day week.”
“Oh, that’s right! Wednesday… is that why I couldn’t find a copy of Sixteen Candles?”
“Oh?” Robin looked at Steve. “No, Sixteen Candles?”
Steve shot Robin a disappointed look, realizing she never listened to him earlier. “Yeah, sorry. We’re all out of that one…” Steve told Y/N.
“No, worries. I just like to rewatch it every now and again.”
“Sorry,” Steve said.
“It’s okay.”
“Okay, you are set to go,” Robin said as she slid the movies to Y/N.
“Thanks. Well, I’ll see you guys around. Bye!” She locked eyes with Steve before she headed towards the door.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you this off your game since our Scoops Ahoy days, dingus.”
“Yeah, Steve, you were just there. Staring. Again!”
“What did you guys expect me to do with you two here?”
“Uh, act normal,” Robin said.
“I did act normal. She wasn’t really interested.”
“Maybe cause you were avoiding them.”
“I wasn’t avoiding them. They clearly aren’t interested.”
“I believe you just haven’t been trying hard enough,” Dustin said.
“I second that,” Robin said.
“When’s the last time you went on a date?”
“Ha!” Robin exclaimed.
“What? It hasn’t been that long.”
“It’s been a while. Actually, I don’t think you’ve dated anyone in the time that I’ve known you.”
“Come on! It has not been long.”
“Long enough.”
“Whether that’s the case or not, maybe you should just try. Why don’t you ask them out?” Dustin said.
“Because he doesn’t know how. He’s done nothing but stare at her each time she’s been in here.”
“I’m right here, Robin. Besides, I helped her the second time she came in.”
“You pointed to where the comedies were and practically ran away from her.”
“Fine, so I’m a little off my game. So what?”
“Maybe you just need to not think about it as much,” Dustin suggested.
“What do you mean?”
“Just ask her out. Let the words come out and don’t think about it too much or else you’ll psych yourself out.”
“Can’t believe I’m getting advice from Henderson.”
“Like that’ll work,” Robin commented.
“You’re not really helping,” Dustin said.
“Okay, how’s this for advice? Stop living in the past. You’re not the same Steve from high school, which means people don’t act the way they used to around you. The real world is different, and you are in it. So why don’t you just grow a pair and just ask her out! What’s the worst that can happen, that she says no? You’ve been rejected before, and you’ve lived. You’ll be just fine no matter the outcome.”
“Uh… okay, thanks.”
---
On Valentine’s Day, Family Video saw a lot of traffic from the moment it was opened. Girls came around in their little cliques and grabbed snacks to go with their choice of films like The Blue Lagoon, Endless Love, An Officer and a Gentleman, Flashdance, and more. These were also popular among the guys that strung along their girlfriends or the dates they had for the day.
Steve had finished shelving some of the returns before he made his way to the counter. Things had died for a bit, so he took the opportunity to stock some movies before more customers showed up. This would leave Robin with the inventory in the back. When he went to check on her, he found her lying back on a chair, a magazine covering her face.
“Of course,” he said.
The bell at the door rang, and Steve eyed the monitors on the desk in front of Robin. The footage showed Y/N, as she made her way to the counter. Steve felt his heart rate increase. He took a deep breath and exited the back room, immediately coming face to face with Y/N.
“Hey,” he greeted.
“Hi!” Y/N said as she fished some movies from her messenger bag. “I’ve come to return these.” She placed the films on the counter.
“Alrighty.” Steve reached for the films while he worked on the computer. He noticed two of the three titles: Cinderella and Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. Steve felt this was his time to make small talk. “Had yourself a Disney night?”
“Hmm?”
“A Disney night… Cinderella and Snow White?” He smiled nervously.
“Oh! Kinda. I had to babysit two little girls and as you can imagine they love princesses.” Y/N beamed.
“Right. And if you baby sit boys, what do you usually go for?”
“Easy. Star Wars. Or E.T. Dustin can testify to that.”
“Classic choices right there.” He saw the last title: Grease. “I’m guessing Grease is more of a personal choice.”
Y/N chuckled. “Yeah, you’re not wrong. I like to have one for myself for when the kids fall asleep.”
“Understandable. Uh, that’ll be four-twenty-five.”
As Y/N searched through her wallet for her money, Steve watched her for a moment. He took in her soft features and notice how delicate she looked. She pulled out a five-dollar bill and handed it to him. Steve charged the films and took out three quarters to give back.
“No movies for tonight?”
“Didn’t really have any in mind. Weirdly enough I got no calls to baby sit tonight. And I didn’t make plans so, right now I don’t know what the rest of the day holds.”
Robin’s words replayed in Steve’s mind. Grow a pair and just ask her. He thought. Now or never, Harrington.
“Listen, since you don’t have any plans for tonight, would you…” he cleared his throat and continued. “Would you like to go see a movie? With me? Tonight?”
“Oh… like on a date?” she asked.
“Uh, yeah—Only if you want…”
Y/N smiled at him. “What did you have in mind to go see?”
Steve swallowed. “There’s this new movie coming out… Pretty in Pink…”
“I’d love to.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. You had me at movie and now I’m even more excited knowing it’s to see Pretty in Pink.”
Steve chuckled. “Great. That’s great. There’s a showing at eight. Can I pick you up at seven-thirty?”
“That sounds perfect.”
“Awesome, so I’ll see you tonight.”
“I’ll see you tonight, Steve.” With that Y/N exited the Family Video.
Once she was out of sight, Steve couldn’t help but fist bump the air. It had actually worked. He asked and she said yes. Steve turned around and jumped when he noticed Robin just stood there.
“Jesus!”
She had a smug look on her face. “Told you so, Harrington.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Thanks.”
---
Funnily enough, Steve had forgotten to ask Y/N where she lived. Luckily, Robin helped him figure it out. He arrived just as he had told her; seven thirty on the dot. He popped a breath mint in his mouth as he walked up to the door. He combed his fingers through his hair, adjusted the jacket he had on, and rang the doorbell.
A minute passed before the door swung open to reveal Y/N standing opposite of him. Steve eyed her for a second before he swallowed so hard the breath mint went straight to his stomach. He could have sworn he heard Dustin telling him to stop ogling at the girl.
He snapped out of his daze. “Hey.”
“Hi. You alright?” She asked.
“Me? Yeah. I’m good.”
She smiled.
“You look great, by the way. Uh, beautiful actually.” Steve noticed her cheeks grew warm.
“Thank you.”
“Are you ready to go? I’m not rushing you, though.”
“I’m ready.”
“Alrighty, let’s go.”
Steve moved aside as she stepped out and locked the door behind her. They walked together to his car, and Steve picked up his steps to beat her to the passenger side. He opened the door and closed it after she climbed in. Steve then marched over to the driver’s side. As soon as he got in, he started his car, and drove on to the movie theater. The ride started off a bit quiet with both parties rather nervous about the date, not that they’d confess anything to one another. Suddenly, Steve turned on the radio and the catchy beat of Daryl Hall and John Oats’ You Make My Dreams Come True, came through the speakers. Steve caught on to Y/N tapping her hands on her lap in tune to the song, and so he left it on that station. After that, the ride didn’t feel as long. Before they knew it, the song finished when they arrived.
Steve made sure to get the door for Y/N and together they strolled over to the ticket booth. Being a gentleman, he bought their tickets, and the pair made their way inside. Steve eyed the snacks counter and turned to Y/N at his side.
“Would you like any snacks?”
“Uh, only you do.”
“I could definitely go for some popcorn. We could share?”
“Okay.”
“If you want you can get us some seats while I get the snacks.”
“Are you sure? I don’t mind going with you.”
“Yeah. Movie will start here in a bit so were gonna see plenty of people filing in and before you know it, the good seats will be gone.”
“Okay. I’ll see you inside.”
“Yeah.”
A few minutes later Y/N waved Steve over the minute she spotted him coming into the theater. Steve was hugging a bucket of popcorn while also holding a beverage on each hand. When he reached the seat next to her, Y/N stopped rubbing her hands on her upper arms and helped Steve with the drinks. She placed each one on the cup holders and Steve sat next to her. The lights dimmed and the screen slowly went on. Steve leaned a little closer to Y/N.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. It’s just a little colder than I expected, and I totally forgot my cardigan at home.”
“Oh…”
“Yeah, but it’s okay.”
“Here, hold this.” Steve handed her the popcorn and proceeded to remove his jacket. He then extended it to her. “Take it.”
“What? No, Steve. I couldn’t.”
“You can. Take it, please.”
“Steve…”
“Please.”
Y/N took the boy’s jacket. Steve wouldn’t say it out loud, but he loved how she looked in it, even in the dimmed theater. She warmed up immediately.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“You’re welcome. Popcorn?” He whispered back.
“Yes, please. Thanks.”
Steve handed his date the popcorn and kept a small handful. The film started and the pair got comfortable in their seats. At one point during the movie, their hands bumped into one another when reaching for the popcorn.
“Sorry,” Y/N whispered.
“It’s okay. Some good popcorn.”
Steve shook his head as he watched the movie, the words echoing in his head. Some good popcorn? Idiot.
Mid way through the film Y/N slightly leaned her shoulder into Steve’s armrest. Steve took as deep breath and enjoyed the closeness. They would remain like that until the end.
---
As the pair exited the theater along with the crowd, Y/N gushed to Steve about how much she enjoyed the movie.
“I thought it was pretty sweet. Thanks for bringing me.”
“You’re welcome.”
As they strolled on over to the car, Y/N got a little closer to Steve.
“Why did you bring me?”
“What?”
“Why did you bring me to see this movie tonight? On Valentine’s Day?”
Steve stopped in place. “Oh, I- uh, I thought it was pretty obvious.”
She stopped as well and gazed up at him. “What?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, that I… that I… like you.”
“That’s good. I like you too.” She grinned.
“You do?”
“I thought it was pretty obvious.”
Steve chuckled and nodded. He noticed a man at the street corner selling roses. Without saying a word, he started jogging towards the man. Y/N turned, and her eyes followed his figure.
“Steve?”
“One sec.”
She watched as Steve got a rose from the man and jogged right back to her.
Steve extended the rose towards her. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
She accepted it.
He continued. “I didn’t make a big deal of it because it’s only our first date and I didn’t want to freak you out.”
“I love it.”
They continued on back towards Steve’s car, not that far apart from one another. When they reached the car, Steve being a gentleman once again, opened the door for her to get in.
On their way back, there was a soft love song playing on the radio, which they both enjoyed in silence. According to the host, it had been requested by some lovesick caller. They pulled up slowly to Y/N’s home, and Steve turned off the engine. As they sauntered to her door, Steve realized he didn’t want the night to end. Sure, he had been a bundle of nerves the whole time, but even then, he enjoyed her company and thought her shyness was just adorable. When they reached the door Steve stayed on the second step, while she stood at the top. They were at eye level this way.
“Steve?” She said shyly.
“Yeah?”
“How come you didn’t ask me sooner?”
Steve took a deep breath. It was as if the date had only just begun again. “Honestly? I couldn’t muster the courage to ask you out.”
“What changed?”
“Robin gave me a harsh, but much needed pep talk.”
“And how did you decide on a movie?”
“It seemed like you love ‘em. I tried to hold Sixteen Candles for you cause you asked for it the other day. But then, I saw this movie had the same chick in it. So, I took a shot.”
“Molly Ringwald.”
“Huh?”
“The actress you’re talking about. It’s Molly Ringwald.”
“Right, yeah. That one.”
She smiled. “Well, I’m glad our first date was on Valentine’s Day. It will stand out from any future one’s.”
“Future one’s? You sayin’ you would go on a date with me again?” His heart was beating through his ears.
She played with the rose she held in her hand. “Only if you want to. I wasn’t sure if you’d ask again.”
“I do. I really, really do.”
“Then it’s a date.”
“Totally.”
The two stood under the moonlight for another minute, as if waiting for something else to happen. However, nothing did.
“Well, thanks again, Steve. I had a really great time.”
“Me too.”
“Goodnight, Steve.”
“Goodnight.”
Y/N smiled at the boy before her, one more time. She then turned to the door, unlocked it, and stepped inside.
“Bye.”
Steve waved softly at her and watched the door close. He stood there for a brief moment, kicking himself for not doing more to not bring the night to close so soon.
Suddenly, the door opened, and Y/N stepped in front of Steve in two quick steps. She placed a delicate hand on Steve’s right cheek, leaned forward, and pressed her lips to his.
Steve was stunned. His hands slightly hovered around her, before they came down to settle on her hips. He pulled her in a little tighter, relaxing into the kiss. He felt a warmth between them, as he savored her soft lips. He could still taste the movie theater popcorn.
After a moment, Y/N broke the kiss and took a step back. Steve’s eyes remained closed, and his hands lingered on her hips. He finally opened his eyes and gazed into hers.
“Wow.”
A giggle bubbled in her throat. She took another step back, but Steve couldn’t resist pulling her in by her hips and kissing her one more time. Steve broke the kiss on this occasion and saw as he had left her stunned this time around. As he gazed back at her, he watched as she began to take slow steps backwards into her home.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Steve.”
She then closed the door and lied her back against it, with a hand hovering over her lips. Steve couldn’t see this. Which meant she didn’t see him when he raised his fists in triumph.
A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Don't be afraid to let me know what you think! If you are interested in another Steve Harrington One Shot, I wrote one a while back. Here is the link:
#fanfic#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#stranger things imagine#stranger things reader insert#stranger things x reader#steve#harrington#stranger things#reader insert#reader imagine#reader x Steve harrington#fan fiction#fan fics#fan fic writing
128 notes
·
View notes
Note
(Because mine is coming up and I’ll need a pick me up about it lol) can I get 🎁 birthday sex with tasm!peter pretty please? Love you! 😘😘
A Cause For Celebration
Pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x afab!reader
Word Count: 2.9k
Warnings: Smut (18+ only). Food (A cupcake). Fingering. Unprotected Sex. PinV. Light Breathplay. Fluff.
Summary: In which Peter Parker shows up at your front door with a slightly smashed cupcake and a whispered "Happy Birthday" or Birthday Sex with Peter Parker.
A/N: This is for my beloved Jey (@flightlessangelwings). Happy belated birthday! I'm so sorry this fic took so long, but I really hope you like it. Thanks for being patient with me. I love you!
You didn’t want anything for your birthday.
When you first told Peter, he thought he had misheard you.
“Nothing?” He asked, eyebrows creeping up into his hairline.
“Nothing.” You confirmed.
Peter squinted at you, and tilted his head to the side like he couldn’t believe it. “Are you sure?”
You nodded. “I just want a quiet night in, with you.”
“Okay.” He shrugged. “If that’s what you want.”
And he’d really tried his best to keep his word, but as he passed a little bakery on the corner, on the way to your place, he couldn’t help but stop.
At first, he hadn’t known how the little hole-in-the-wall had escaped his notice all these months, but then he realized he had more of a habit of swinging to your apartment than using his legs. One tended to miss the little things when swinging three hundred feet in the air at break-neck speed.
The smell caught his attention first. An enticing swirl of warm sugary vanilla-cinnamon-hazelnut and rich chocolatey sweetness that wafted out the front door as a customer exited. He floated into the entrance– literally drifted through the door like a cartoon.
Rows of pastries lined the shelves of the display case. Chocolate eclairs, powdered donuts, flaky, sugar-dusted dough, loaves of pumpkin and gingerbread still steaming as they cooled. But there on the counter, under a glass dome, was a lone cupcake, with swirls of pastel blue and white icing sculpted into tiny flowers. A dusting of silver sugar rested on the top, sparkling in the light.
It was perfect. Peter bought it immediately, pulling a crumpled ten dollar bill from his coat pocket. He dropped the change in the glass tip jar, and was on his way with a promise to return soon.
He figured the cupcake didn’t count in the nothing category, as it was much too small, and probably much too delicious to deny.
Peter carefully cradled the cute little box it came in all the way to your apartment building. Unfortunately it got a bit jostled during his ascent up the six flights of stairs, but that couldn’t be helped. .
Two knocks signal his arrival, and you’re quick to open the door and let him in.
“Hi, Pete.” You step aside to let him into your apartment.
Peter brings in the snowy night with him. You can feel the cold drift off of his body. It makes you shiver, even in your pajama pants and sweatshirt. He smells like ice and smoke. Small white snowflakes dust the messy brown hair that has escaped his blue beanie, and cling to his long lashes. His cheeks are rosy red, having been abused by the icy wind. His chapped lips stretch into a smile that reaches the warmth of his hot chocolate eyes.
“Hey, baby.” He kisses you sweetly, tasting the smile on your lips. “Happy birthday!” He pulls the box from behind his back.
You frown down at the box. “I said no gifts.”
“It’s not a gift.” He opens the box. “It’s a cupcake.” He sways the box under your nose. “I passed a bakery on the way over here, figured you deserved something to celebrate. Look, we don’t need to light a candle or sing happy birthday or anything like that. But everyone should get a cake on their birthday.”
You take the box from him. The frosting is slightly smeared, but you can still make out the shape of the delicate flower that was once there. It’s beautiful. And more importantly, the cupcake looks delicious.
“Thank you, Peter,” you say with a soft smile. “This was really sweet of you.”
Peter’s face lights up. “So…I’m not in trouble for buying it?” He wraps his arm around your waist.
“No. You’re not.”
He wipes his free hand across his forehead. “Phew! I was actually really worried there for a second. You’re hot when you’re mad, but you’re also really scary.”
You pull him forward by his scarf. “C’mon, let’s eat this cupcake before your mouth gets you into trouble.”
Peter nods. “Yeah, that’s probably best.”
He shrugs out of his coat, and pulls the cotton beanie from his head. His hair springs free in a frizzy and comical halo. You try your best not to laugh, but you can’t help the small chuckle that escapes your lips.
“What? Are you laughing at me now, sweetheart?” Peter raises his eyebrows.
You cover your mouth and shake your head.
“No?” He asks, draping his winter gear over the kitchen chair. “Sure sounds like it. What’s so funny?”
“See for yourself.” You point to the mirror hanging by the door, and Peter looks at his reflection.
“Huh.” He brushes his fingers through his hair with a grin. “Yeah, I’ll admit that’s pretty funny.” Peter turns back to you and rubs his hands together. “Shall we begin the festivities?”
Thirty minutes later you’re sitting on the sofa watching Empire Strikes Back for what has to be the 500th time, or at least enough times for you and Peter to have memorized every other line. You’re giggling at Peter’s terrible impression of Chewbacca that sounds more like a nauseated cat than the Wookie himself, and Peter is looking at you like you hung the very stars in that galaxy far, far away.
The cupcake box sits empty on the coffee table, only the wrinkled paper and crumbs are left of it. It really was delicious. The blue icing sweet, but not overly so, the cake fluffy with a hint of nutmeg. You were reluctant to ruin those pretty flowers, but in the end, you and Peter split the cupcake in two and chowed down.
Now, you lick the remnants of the sticky icing off of your fingertips. Peter’s eyes meet yours, and his lips part into a blue-stained grin.
“Happy birthday,” he whispers, eyes shining in the light of the television.
“Thanks,” you say. “And thank you for the cupcake. It was delicious.”
His smile grows, albeit a little bashfully. “Anything for you.” Peter drags you closer to him by your legs. “I’m glad you liked it.” He leans towards you, his hands cupping your cheeks, and presses his lips to yours softly.
His fingers gently trace the length of your jaw, and tangle in your hair, teasing the curls at the nape of your neck. Normally, you hate when people touch your hair, but Peter is always gentle, and the light tugging of your hair elicits a quiet groan from your lips. Peter swallows it greedily, tilting his head to deepen the kiss.
You can still taste the faintest hint of the blue buttercream when his tongue sweeps into the seam of your lips. From the way he moans as his tongue meets yours, you think he tastes it too.
Peter hooks his fingers into the front of your pajama pants, and pulls you into his lap. You settle above him, legs splayed around his waist. His hands easily find the hem of your sweatshirt, and it’s not long before they’re slipping under the fabric to touch the skin beneath.
You surge towards him, hips meeting his in a slow roll, as his hands follow the trail of your spine. Up, up, up, they go, and then around. Cupping your breasts and feeling their weight. Slender fingers and calloused tips. He teases your nipples, pinching and pulling lightly. Working you up with just the slightest touch. It sends a shudder through your body, and a small cry of his name into the air.
Two can play at that game. You think, tugging at the blue corded sweater he wears. You pull it over his head and toss it somewhere behind you where it falls with a muted thud.
His skin now bare beneath you, you carve a new path across the planes of his body. First over his jaw, then down his throat – you don’t miss the hitch in his breath when your fingers brush over his pulse point. They then sweep across his collarbones, down the lean muscles of his scarred chest, and further down still, following the smattering of hair that disappears into the waistband of his jeans. He shudders and sighs under your touch, jumping slightly to meet your fingers.
Peter watches your exploration with hungry eyes. You can feel the ridge of his erection straining against the denim. You rock against it, your own eyes fluttering shut at the sweet pressure. Peter lets out a huff of your name, teeth digging into the skin of his bottom lip.
Your shirt comes off next, giving Peter unfettered access to your chest. He plants kisses that are somehow sloppy and sweet over the peaks of your breasts. When his lips wrap around your nipple you let out a reedy moan.
“That’s it.” Peter mumbles, spit slicked against your peaked nipple. “Let me hear you.”
You tilt your head back. “Peter.”
He hums. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” His eyes are glued to your face, taking in your every movement. His molten gaze burns a hole into your skin. “Sound so pretty.”
“I want you,” you whisper, fingers fumbling to undo the silver button of his jeans.
“Want you too, baby.” Peter’s lips let your nipple go with a pop. “Gotta make sure you’re ready for me first.” And with that, he’s worming his hand down the front of your pants. “Shit,” he groans, playing with the wetness gathered on your underwear. “You’re soaking, honey.”
And really, who’s fault is that?
Slender fingers hook your panties to the side and slide against your folds. Your knees nearly give out when his thumb circles your clit. You yank Peter’s lips back to yours to muffle the moans growing in the back of your throat.
Peter slides a finger into you with no resistance, and mutters a curse under his breath. You’re so warm and wet around him, squeezing him in a way that makes his desire to be inside you flame even brighter. It’s not long before a second finger fills you, stretching deliciously as they scissor and curl within you. A poor substitute for the real thing, which still presses against your ass.
You rock your hips hungrily, grinding down onto his open palm. The friction sets off bursts of light behind your eyelids, like fireworks on New Year’s Eve. A curl of fire licks at your curled toes, arcs like lightning up your spine and settles deep in your stomach. If Peter kept going, he’d stoke the flame into a wildfire. Have you falling apart with a choked wail. But that’s not what you wanted.
“Peter,” you manage to grind out. “Don’t want to come yet. Wanna save it for you.”
You feel his answering grin against your cheek. “That what you want?” Though he acknowledges your request, his fingers still move, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
“Yes,” you whine, fighting the losing battle to keep your hips still. Because even though you want to wait until you’re riding his cock, you’re dangling over the edge, and still want so badly to come. “Want to ride you.”
Peter’s fingers stop, still buried inside of your cunt. “Well, it is your birthday.” He pulls your pants down to your knees. “So I guess you’ll get what you want.”
Birthday or not, with Peter you always get what you want. He never passes up an opportunity to spoil you rotten. You are his, after all– my baby, my love– something he’ll remind you of repeatedly in a few moments.
You fumble out of the remainder of your clothes, and Peter hastily yanks off his jeans and boxers in one fell swoop. He also grabs the blanket from off the back of the couch.
“Can’t have you gettin’ cold,” he mumbles, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders.
You falter for a moment, somehow still shocked at how caring he is. He pulls you out of your thoughts with a kiss to the underside of your jaw.
“Ready for me?” Peter whispers.
You nod, wrapping your fingers around his aching cock. You rub your thumb over the head, wrist flicking slowly. Peter groans, head tilting back to the light of the room. You want to keep going, keep stroking, until you feel the warmth of Peter’s release on your hand. Want to hear the choked moan of your name as you took him to that highest peak–
As if hearing your thoughts, he grabs your wrist. “Thought you wanted to ride me, honey?” He raises his eyebrows.
“I do,” you reply coyly.
Peter’s hands slide to your hips, and he pulls you towards him, until you’re hovering just above him. “What are you waiting for?”
You stroke him again, just to watch the stern look be replaced by one of wanting.
Peter groans. “Need to be inside you,” he mumbles, voice cracking with lust. “Please, honey.”
That’s what you were waiting for.
You sink down onto him slowly, a moan of reverence sliding from your lips, and one that Peter echoes loudly.
“Fuck, you feel so good.” Peter’s dropped his head into your collarbone, so his words are muffled by your heaving breasts. “Feel so fucking perfect wrapped around me.”
You wrap your arms around his shoulders, using the broad surface to steady yourself. You feel so full and so close to him. It’s as if, in this moment, he’s the only other person in the world, and it’s just you and Peter in your small apartment, and nothing else matters but the slow rock of your hips and his body pressed to yours.
You can’t even hear the movie playing in the background, or the sound of traffic right outside your window. All you hear is the raggedy inhale-exhale of Peter’s breath, and your own stilted breaths in return.
Peter’s grip on your hips tighten. “Fuck me,” he groans, something desperate twisting in his voice. “Faster.”
You comply, hips speeding up until they almost match the thudding of your heart in your chest.
“That’s it, baby– shit,” Peter says. “Take what you want. Always fuck me so good.” He tilts his head back against the sofa cushions, jaw going slacked, and looking at you with glazed eyes. His fingers find that hallowed place between your sweaty bodies, and rub insistently at your clit.
You bite your bottom lip, head going dizzy from his praise and the sweet sensation of your own orgasm building up inside of you. There’s the whispered flame curling up inside of you again, licking over your body. You raise up onto your knees, changing the angle in search of that one blissful spot deep inside of you that only Peter seems to be able to reach. You almost wail when you find it.
Your hand slides up Peter’s body, coming to rest on his chest as the roll of your hips begins to lose their steady rhythm. He grabs your hand, a flash of wanton mischief in his gaze, and rests it on the bottom of his throat. You quirk an eyebrow, and he nods, something desperate and unspoken in his gaze.
Peter nearly comes on the spot when you fit your thumb into the hollow of his throat. His pulse thuds under your touch wildly. He bucks his hips up against yours, the dam of his self-control breaking. He holds your hand in place, urging you to squeeze tighter, which you do.
The two of you chase your pleasure together with sloppy thrusts and broken moans. You can almost taste it on the back of your tongue, hot and molten like lead. This all-encompassing, enrapturing desire. Judging from the expression of complete bliss on Peter’s face, you know he’s nearly there as well.
He tells you as much with a cracked whisper of your name. “Please tell me you’re close, cuz I’m gonna come.”
You nod, because it’s all that you’re able to do. So lost in all of it. And then without warning, it builds and overtakes you. You fall against Peter’s chest, a silent cry of his name on your lips.
It’s the end for him too. Though he doesn’t go quietly. Peter explodes inside of you with a strangled groan of your name, and several breathy moans. Warmth floods your body, and you tighten your knees around him, holding him against you like a vice.
“Goddammit.” Peter grits his teeth, as he fucks you through both of your orgasms.
It takes a while for his hips to still and for your breathing to return to normal. All your senses seem to come back at once. Suddenly you can hear the traffic and the movie playing behind you. Smell the sweat that lingers in the air. Feel the stifling heat of the blanket around your shoulders. You let it fall into a heap on the floor, content with the warmth of Peter’s body pressed against yours.
His hands roam your body, more gentle in their approach now. He traces random patterns on the expanse of your back and thighs. Presses tender kisses to your forehead, and holds you tightly against his chest.
“Happy birthday,” he finally mumbles, lips sweeping against your skin.
“Oh yeah.” You grin. “Nearly forgot.”
“That good huh?” Peter gives you a lopsided smirk.
You return it. “Always.”
Peter hums. His eyes fix on the empty pastry box. Suddenly it dawns on him that you’ve had dessert before dinner. He casts a wary look at the clock hanging on the wall. It reads 7:34.
“Did you wanna order food? Or go out for dinner? Or…” He trails off.
You bury your face into his chest. “Later. Just wanna be with you for now.”
In the end, you didn’t go out. Just ordered takeout and cuddled on the couch. It may have been a quiet night in, watching a movie you’d seen a thousand times, but it was perfect to you.
#peter parker x reader#peter parker x you#tasm!peter parker x reader#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker smut#andrew garfield#the amazing spider man#drabbles#rion writes
658 notes
·
View notes
Text
The 'Vigil' Keeper
Pix looked up from his book as the bell rang. It was Xisuma Void, the principal of the school the next street over. Pix chuckled to himself, he remembered that someone told him that the kids were calling Hermitopia for some reason. Pix smiled. The shop had few customers this time of day and at this day of the week. It had been an uneventful Tuesday.
“Good afternoon Xisuma. How are you doing?”
“I’m doing well. How are you?”
“I’m great. Thanks for asking. So what brings you to Pixandria on this dark and gloomy afternoon?” Pix replied.
Pix pulled down the sleeve of his dark blue sweater. It was cold even with all the candles lit. Pixandria was not a dark place, it was far from it. Between the candles lit all around to the replica of the ancient ‘Vigil’ to the four mysterious ‘conduits’ (lamps Pearl painted for him) he put around the place, it was quite bright.
“Could I pick up the 200 candles I ordered?” Xisuma asked then quickly he said. “No dyes or scents.” Pix smiled again.
“Of course. What do you need it for?” Pix said while he went under the counter to grab the order. Xisuma laughed.
“Well Tango said how it would be fun to do a lab with candles for the kids and Cleo immediately agreed saying it would be fun to experiment with the wax for an art project.”
“Ah I see. Looks like you’ve paid for everything beforehand.” Pix was about to hand the box to X when a couple kids ran in and stared at the ‘Vigil’.
“Um King Pixl Riffs? What is that?” A boy with dirty blond hair and hazel eyes pointed to the ‘Vigil’.
“Well. It is what I call the ‘Vigil’ . Every time an emperor is ‘pranked’ by another empire I put up a candle and if they get 12 candles I make a paper lantern of the color of the empire. I have a list of who did the ‘pranks’ and we talley them up at the end of the year and then I reset the ‘Vigil’.”
The kids who had entered with the boy now had big smiles on their faces.
“You guys prank each other?” A boy with curly brown hair asked excitedly.
“Like we do at school sometimes?” A girl with black hair said. Pix laughed as Xisuma sighed.
“What kind of pranks do you do?” The trio shouted in unison.
“Well one time Jimmy and I changed all of fWhip salmon pictures to cod pictures but he caught on quickly and they were all changed back within a day and fWhip gave Jimmy a salmon statue saying sense he loved salmon so much he should have it. And there was another time when Pearl and I went around asking everyone weird or confusing trivia and it all bottled down to who makes the best honey which isn’t really a prank but a fond memory. We also all said hi to Gem each in a different way then we normally did it but how another emperor said hi.”
When Pix stopped talking.
“Thank you King Mr. Vigil Keeper.” The children said and they ran out of the store no doubt going to Pearl’s to get a drink of hot cocoa that she sells in the winter. The name made a chill go up Pix’s spine.
Pix waved goodbye to Xisuma. He flipped his sign to closed and headed down the very long stairs to the basement. The wooden stairs creaked under his feet but as he got lower the stairs became stone and you could hear his sandals slap against the stone. The walls have a spot for candles to light the path but Pix usually ignores them and thinks about events that happened during the day. The basement has two layers where the stairs turn to stone. You can see Daivd and when you get to the end of those stone stairs you will step on to the ground only to find that it is sand. If you walk a bit in this sand you’ll find a very old and ancient monument called The Vigil.
Pix looked at The Vigil every candle was burning bright. He sighed. He felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. He took it out and pressed the answer button.
“Hello Zloy, how are you doing?”
“Pix, Pix the Copper King might be out tonight! Can you come?” An excited Zloy said.
“No sorry I have…” Pix trailed off thinking of an excuse.
“Oh. Are you free for recording tomorrow?”
“Let me check my schedule and I’ll get back to you.”
“Okay. Lyarrah and I are going out to record in the field tonight.”
“Alright. See yuh tomorrow.”
“Good night.”
“Good night.” Pix took off his blue sweater. He put on a brown undershirt and pants. He bore a sandy color jacket with copper shoulders and lining down. And went up to The Vigil and put on perfectly on top of his head a copper crown. He then grabbed his trident.
The Copper King smiled as he exited his underground lair. He turned on his com and took his watch.
#empires smp#hermitcraft#empires au#pixlriffs#xisumavoid#this is my first fan fic#hope you like it#zloyxp#Emperors of Empires Street#Children of the town#emperors of empires street fics
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
Modern AU where Yuji has to work after school in order to help pay for his grandfather’s medical bills.
He finally gets hired as a cashier/helper at the ancient local library.
It’s ginormous. There are walls of bookshelves, entirely filled with books of all sizes - hardcovers, soft covers, manuals - and different colors.
Understandably, Yuji goes through lots of training: learning how the ship is organized, how to help customers at the register, and how to keep the place clean.
Once, when Yuji is snacking on a few candies he got from the school vending machines, his manager warns him not to leave his food out, especially sweets.
“It attracts nasty, unwanted critters,” she states.
Yuji easily agreed and stuffs the rest of his candies in his hoodie pocket. They’re just about to close, so he gets to sweeping the floors of the bookstore.
About one month in, Yuji has everything down. He’s a quick and eager learner, and actually had a very sharp memory. This serves him well as the manager who showed him all the ropes suddenly calls it quits.
Something about going insane in the bookshop, seeing things that don’t exist…
A haunted bookstore? Yuji questions himself. Seems likely.
He’s never actually met the owner in person. And he barely catches sight of the other person who works the early afternoon shift.
For a bookstore so vast and abundant, there weren’t a ton of customers filtering in and out all the time.
One day, Yuji’s friends surprise him with a whole box full of donuts for his birthday.
Yuji shares the donuts, but alas, there are still two left. He decides to bring the leftover two to work, intent on offering them to any lucky customer that might come in hungry.
Only two customers come in over the next few hours: an older woman who returns a couple books and borrows two more, and a father with a young boy who is looking for a “children’s horror book” about a boy being pulled into the ocean and dragged to hell.
Weird.
The boy takes one donut.
One donut remains.
Really, Yuji is unsure of how the owner is keeping this business running. But at least he’s being paid a decent wage. And it’s simple enough work too.
It’s quiet for the next hour.
Already done with most of his housekeeping tasks, Yuji ventures to the sci-fi section, which is near the front of the store where he can still see the entryway, in case anyone comes in. This means he can also see the register counter, where the donut box lays, lid open.
Pop music softly plays from the store speakers. Yuji hums to the vaguely familiar tune, sifting through the shelves.
But the music is not loud enough to mask the shuffle of the donut box on the counter.
Yuji pauses his search, scanning the doorway to make sure no one has entered the store. Not hearing any other pair of footsteps, Yuji turns back to the books.
A long moment passes before an unmistakable noise of laughter rings out.
Yuji whirls around because he did NOT imagine that!
He rushes to the counter, right in time to see the donut escaping the box. Or rather, upon closer inspection, a tiny person not even the height of a birthday candle, carrying said donut and bounding away.
Yuji, unable to process anything besides the fact that the tiny person is taking his last donut, chases after them.
“Hey! That’s mine!”
Yuji easily catches up to the tiny-person-donut-blob, cupping them between his palms right when the tiny person makes a leap for a bookshelf.
“Gotcha-!“ Yuji shouts in triumph. He squeezes tight enough to trap, then takes a closer look.
This tiny person is dressed in just as tiny clothes. Human-shaped enough, with white hair and black blindfold over their eyes.
Before Yuji can ask “What ARE you?” The tiny person finishes chewing what Yuji assumes was a piece of donut, and opens their mouth to yell out:
“Formation B!”
Before Yuji can blink, two other small people fly from opposite bookshelves.
One lands on his right wrist and thumps it with a tiny hammer; this causes Yuji to let go of the white-haired-tiny-person and donut in tow.
The other smacks right onto his nose, making Yuji go cross-eyed. This tiny human has black spiky hair and dark eyes. His expression offers nothing more than stone-cold as he throws a glittery powder into Yuji’s face-
Yuji promptly blacks out.
***
The powder was supposed to make Yuji forget about the little people sighting, but it doesn’t work on him.
Now that he’s aware of their existence, he starts seeing the little people everywhere now: hopping from shelf to shelf, meddling in customer’s bags or purses, changing the music from Yuji’s classical playlist to a TWICE song.
(“It’s like TT~~like TT” in the background.
Yuji, in his head: “so that explains the random song changes” 🧐
It was all Gojo.
Gojo also played pranks on the manager and made her quit lol. )
Au-wise, the major issue is that a real estate company is looking to buy out the building, wanting to create a more high-end shopping strip. The local bookstore is at risk of being closed down, which has been the home of little people for years.
Many traveling little people even use the bookstore as a place to rest and find community. Yuji finds that there's a whole other tiny world within the bookshelves thanks to Gojo and his little family.
So Yuji has to help figure out a way to generate more business for the bookstore without risking the livelihoods of the little people, or help scout out a new location for the little people in case that doesn't work.
***
Bonus:
Geto had always been curious about other little people's locations. A few months ago, he set out on his journey to explore outside the bookstore.
("I'm going on a little adventure! I'll make sure to bring souvenirs for you all!" Geto pats his special bag that has an infinite amount of space before heading off into the big wide world.)
But he never returned, and has been missing ever since. Gojo is :(((.
(Yuji: “I mean, I go outside all the time. If you tell me what kind of places he’d go, I can help search for him?”
Gojo: “I knew I liked you for a reason!”)
In hindsight, Geto’s first mistake was getting kidnapped by a hawk, which clearly thought he was food. Cue the hawk soaring through the sky and Geto's tiny screaming.
He ended up in a nest with baby hawks.
See, living with Gojo and the kids back in the bookstore, Geto ran a lot in his life. But he swears, he's never ran so fast until then, away from the birds trying to gobble him up.
Geto simply yanked a tree leaf off the branch and sailed down to the ground. Geto ended up at a cafe a few blocks down. He's been trying to find his way back ever since. 🥹
It comes down to when Gojo tags along with Yuji during their weekly searches and Gojo’s gets enamored by the smell coming from the cafe.
Imagine Geto’s surprise when he’s hiding within the shelves behind the counter and sees a tuft of white hair peeking from this large human’s collar.
Satoru!
And it’s as if he can sense Geto anywhere because Gojo locks eyes with Geto right away.
Suguru!
Gojo jumps down from his perch - he’s gone rogue!
Yuji, internally: “NOOO”
Luckily, most people in the cafe are engrossed in conversation or their work. The only person Yuji makes a fool out of himself for covering the clearly tiny person making a dash for the back shelves is the barista.
Geto hops down the shelves and meets Gojo in the middle of the coffee machine, wrapping him in a tight embrace.
Yuji, stalling his order so the barista doesn’t notice the tiny Satosugu reunion on the mf coffee machine: “Uh, so what do you recommend?”
Geto quickly sweeps Gojo up in his arms and heads towards Yuji. The barista is still talking through their recommendations.
Yuji: “Oh, um, I’ll actually have one hot chocolate, please. Also, how much is that pastry?”
Yuji points to the display so the barista doesn’t see him scooping up tiny Satosugu into his hoodie - who whisper loudly among themselves. 😭
(Gojo: “Suguru, your hair got so long!”
Geto: “It did, I didn’t really have anything to cut it. You like?” 😉
Gojo: “Oh I much more than like it~”
Luckily, Geto puts his palm over Gojo’s mouth before he can continue.)
Once they’re back on the street, Yuji feels a tap on his neck.
“Hello, I’m Geto Suguru. What’s your name?”
“Itadori Yuji. Bookstore cashier, shelver, and tiny person transporter,” Yuji introduces himself. “It’s nice to meet you, Geto-sama.”
Geto laughs loudly.
“Nice to meet you too, Yuji-kun.”
A moment passes, before he adds:
“Thank you for helping Satoru find me.”
#jjk#yuji itadori#satosugu#geto suguru#gojo satoru#satosugu fluff#satosugu fanfic#jjk fic#fluff#tiny people au#cerdrabbles
39 notes
·
View notes
Text
Suptober Day 8: Witch's Brew
All Charlie wanted was for the big finale of the Moondoor season to be epic. It was starting to get colder, and with the chill came a hiatus. No one wanted to freeze their butts off in a field, after all. Dean had assured her that what she already had in mind was perfect, but she wanted an extra something to make the season stand out from all the ones that had come before it.
When she researched possible special effects, beyond the fireworks and smoke machines, she'd found a single message board post with a handful of replies of someone talking about their final LARP session before they had to move across the country, where they'd paid a pretty penny for a transfiguration potion from a local apothecary. They'd done the entire session as an actual orc.
That was where the maybe-probably witch came into the picture.
In a local Facebook group for gamers, someone had mentioned in passing getting a tincture for their carpal tunnel five years before. Apparently the witch had been surly but fairly priced, and the cure had worked.
Charlie had messaged them for an address and hoped that it was still accurate.
The shack--really, it couldn't be called anything more--was crammed into the back alley of a butcher shop. It looked abandoned except for the freshly-painted "Meg's" in swooping letters on the door and the tiny neon sign in the window that declared the shop open.
Charlie was surprised the door didn't shriek like something out of an old horror movie. Instead, it swung open easily to reveal a cozy room with burgundy walls and rows of rough wood shelves covered in vials, jars, and flasks.
There was a bar-height counter on the far side of the room, upon which sat an old timey cast iron cash register and a flickering candle that smelled like tobacco and cinnamon.
"Hello?" Charlie called into the empty room, hesitant to step in.
"Do you need a hand-written invitation?" a muffled voice drawled from somewhere behind the counter. There was the distinct sound of glasses clinking together. "I'm a little busy!"
"Sorry! I'll just take a look around."
"You do that."
Even though she had no idea what she was really looking for and would much rather have asked the witch, she forced herself to start perusing the shelves in silence. All of the containers were clearly labeled, but they were small potatoes: arthritis, chapped lips, dry eyes, indigestion.
A muffled curse came from behind the counter.
"Um, do you--" Charlie started then stopped herself. She didn't want to be a bother, but... "Do you need some help?"
A frustrated huff then "Fine."
More hesitantly than was warranted for someone who had offered to help, she rounded the counter and was surprised to find a hole into some sort of cellar.
"Here," the familiar voice said before a box of potions was lifted high enough for her to reach.
It was heavier than it looked, but she managed to get it up onto the counter. She turned around, not sure if there'd be another box, but was met instead with a woman--Meg, presumably--darting up the ladder. Charlie nearly leapt out of her skin.
"Hello," she said a little breathlessly.
Meg arched one unimpressed brow at her. "Hi. Can you--" She gestured to the customer side of the counter.
"Right. Totally. Sorry." Charlie backed away.
She'd expected an old crone, but Meg was, well, not that. She looked to be about Charlie's age, and she was wearing leather and had mischievous, dark eyes that gave Charlie butterflies like she was teenager again.
"Did you find what you need?" the witch asked as she swung the door over the hole and locked it.
"Actually, I was wondering if you could help me with something more...custom?"
Meg visibly perked up at that, though she tried to hide it. "Maybe. If the price is right."
"It will be."
"Well, why didn't you lead with that?"
"You're, like, really intimidating," Charlie word-vomited like an idiot. "And hot. Oh my god. I'm so sorry. That's weird. That's so weird. I can leave."
Meg smiled, sharp and amused, and tilted her head like she was looking at Charlie for the first time. "I'll take the compliment if you're serious about forking out some cash."
Three hours later, Charlie left the shop with a potion that would make her sprout wings and levitate--which was totally fucking awesome--and Meg's number. To report on how the session went and in case she ever wanted another potion, of course.
#I just think meg/charlie is neat#and in an urban fantasy setting who wouldn't spend way too much money on a potion to make their LARP session even cooler?#Idk this prompt didn't come easy to me and I hated all my ideas until this one sprung fully formed into my head like twenty minutes ago#and yes this is how Dean and Cas end up being introduced#i love finding new variations of getting these four in the same room#this one might get a sequel in suptober because I LOVE witch meg???#suptober#suptober24#short ficlet#supernatural#meg/charlie#meg masters#charlie bradbury#idk do they even have a ship tag? they do in my heart
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
Her Song (Florence Pugh)
I bop my head along to the song playing over the shop's sound system. My best friend, Ash, watches amusedly as I jam out to "Gimme Shelter" by the Rolling Stones while washing the counter.
"Stop staring and get back to work, Ashlynn," I instruct in a sing-song voice.
"I am working," she retorts, gesturing to the espresso machine she's cleaning. "Maybe you should get back to work."
"I'm multitasking. Besides, I own the place; I don't have to work if I don't want to."
She sticks her tongue out at me and I flip her off, ending our playful banter. Ash was the first friend I made when I moved to New York City, and we've practically been inseparable ever since. Despite her technically being my employee, she's more like a co-owner of the shop. We're partners in crime. Well, if selling records, books, and beverages counts as crime.
The gentle patter of rain on the roof relaxes me as I work. To most people, a day full of clouds and rain is automatically a bad one, but I love the rain. There's just something about sitting inside with a book in a candle-lit room while it rains; it feels like home. That's exactly the atmosphere I try to create in the shop; on days like this, I always dim the lights, light some candles, and lower the volume of the music.
My regulars love it, I love it, Ash loves it, and Syd loves it. Speaking of Syd: "Syd, honey, where are you?" I call out.
The five-year-old girl peaks her head around one of the bookshelves and says, "Right here, Momma. I like this book." I squint my eyes to read the cover. War and Peace.
"Syd, put that book back. You're a smart kid, but you aren't nearly old enough to read that. At least wait until you're ten," I tell her. I know she won't be reading War and Peace when she's ten, but a little childhood false hope never hurt anybody.
"Fine," she grumbles, putting the large book back where she found it.
"Thank you."
"Momma, can I watch Shrek on the big TV?"
"Sure, just keep the volume low." There's an area with a TV and a couple of bean bag chairs, and that's usually where she likes to hang out. I don't mind as long as she doesn't disturb the customers.
She quickly gets lost in the movie and a smile at her Shrek impression as she quotes the movie.
"Y/N, can you go out back and grab more napkins to fill the dispenser?" Ash asks from behind the cafe counter.
I nod and make my way through the employees-only door that leads out back. As I'm opening a box of napkins, I can hear the bell that signals the front door opening, followed by a faint conversation that I can't really hear through the walls. I'm a bit surprised that we have a customer, considering the light rain had passed and now it's pouring outside.
I grab a package of napkins and walk back out. I don't pay much attention to my surroundings as I fill the dispenser. But when I'm finished, my jaw drops at the customer standing in an aisle of records. Is that Florence Pugh?
I clear my throat and quickly regain my composure, although I'm still freaking out on the inside. She's just a person, I think to myself. No need to freak out or anything.
The song ends and "Dreams" by Fleetwood Mac comes on. I smile and mouth along to the lyrics as I busy myself with organizing the book section of the store.
I risk a glance at the woman and see her singing softly with a small smile. I bite my lip to contain a laugh at the way she subtly dances to the music.
"Whatcha doin?"
"Oh Jesus!" I jump, covering my racing heart with my hand as I recover from the scare. "Don't do that, Ash," I scold with a slap to her shoulder.
"Are you stalking the customer?" she whispers. "I mean, she's hot and you should definitely go for it, but this is kinda creepy."
"I'm not stalking her!" I whisper-yell. "I'm...reorganizing the books."
"Uh-huh. Reorganizing the books while watching her sing along to one of your favorite songs with a dumbass smile on your face," she deadpans.
"Shut up."
"You're just mad 'cause you know I'm right," she says before walking away. I roll my eyes at her childish antics.
"Excuse me, I was wondering if you have anything by Paramore? All of my American friends are telling me that I need to listen to their music and I was just walking by and I thought 'well, why not' so here I am," she rambles, her accent shining through each of her words.
"Oh, uh, yeah, of course! We've got tons of Paramore," I stutter out, leading her to the section I've dubbed the 'emo corner.'
"So, we've got Riot, Brand New Eyes, and Paramore. If you want any of their other albums, I can order 'em and have them in by the end of the week," I tell her.
"Well, what would you recommend? I'm not very familiar with this genre, and I've no idea where to start," she inquires with a sweet half-smile.
"Oh, jeez, well I grew up on this stuff, so...I think I would recommend Riot. It's got a lot of my personal favorites."
I gently pull the vinyl off the shelf and hand it to her. She looks it over and nods her head. "Then this is the one I'll get. Thank you very much."
"It's my pleasure. Will that be all today?"
"Yes. Actually, maybe some Yorkshire tea if you have it?"
"We most certainly do," I confirm as I lead her to the checkout counter, which is a few feet away from the cafe counter. "Ash, Yorkshire tea," I call out. She doesn't respond and I look over to see her smiling down at her phone. I love that girl, but sometimes I want to smack her upside the head.
"Ashlynn! Éteigne ton téléphone et fais du thé pour cette femme!" I yell at her (translation: turn off your phone and make tea for this woman). Her head snaps up at the angry French and she gives me a sheepish smile before getting Florence's tea started.
I look back over to Florence, who is looking at me with raised eyebrows and laughing silently. I shake my head with a smirk and ring her up. Ash brings the tea over and gives it to Florence. While she's distracted, I flip over the receipt and write "'For a Pessimist, I'm Pretty Optimistic' is my favorite on this album :)"
I hand her the receipt and we exchange a quick goodbye before she walks out of the store. I sigh with a small smile, convincing myself that actually just happened.
"Did you write your number on the receipt?" Ash asks excitedly.
"What? No," I deny. "I wrote a song recommendation."
"Well that's boring. You had the perfect opportunity," she complains.
I shrug my shoulders and laugh at her displeasure with my lack of flirting.
"Momma, was that your girlfriend?" Syd yells from her spot in a beanbag chair.
"No, Sydney, she's not my girlfriend. I don't even know her. Go back to your movie."
She turns back around and resumes the movie with little enthusiasm. Kids.
#florence pugh#yelena boleva#black widow#marvel#flo pugh#florence pugh x reader#florence pugh x you#florence pugh x y/n#yelena belova x reader
61 notes
·
View notes
Text
Rings
Pairing: Alex Claremont-Diaz x Henry Fox
Summary: Alex needs to return the ring...
This was a trip Alex never thought he’d have to make. Only a month after painstakingly selecting an engagement ring for Henry; after stealthily getting his ring size, after pouring over designs, gemstones, engravings, after finally landing on the perfect ring for the love of his life, he was returning it to the jeweler. Alex wanted to laugh at how absurd the situation was, but he thought better of it. It wouldn’t look good if the President’s son started laughing hysterically in public, now would it.
The jeweler had cleared out her shop at Cash’s request, and she smiled when Alex entered. “Mr. Claremont-Diaz,” she said, leaning on the counter. “I didn’t think I’d be seeing you again. What brings you in?” Alex approached the counter, his hands in his pockets. “Well,” he said, sounding sheepish.” “I…uh…need to return this…” He pulled the ring box from his pocket and set it on the counter, and the jeweler stared. “Oh, Alex, I’m so sorry.” But Alex wasn’t frowning, he wasn’t upset. He looked…happy?
Champagne, chocolate covered strawberries, takeout from Alex’s favorite dive down the block (because Henry still wasn’t great at cooking), David in a little tuxedo, candles on every surface, copies of Le Monde littering the ground and tables. “Baby,” Alex said. “What’s all this?” Henry pressed a flute of champagne into Alex’s hand and a kiss to his lips. “Can’t a man spoil his boyfriend?” was Henry’s rebuttal, and Alex laughed. “I guess, but I feel like you have an ulterior motive here, babe.”
There had indeed been an ulterior motive. Henry had cleared the dishes away after dinner and returned to Alex only to drop to one knee before him. “Henry, wha-” “Hush, darling,” Henry said. “I have loved you since I first saw you in Rio, and I spent years pining for a man I thought I could never have. Then you blew back into my life and stole my heart, and I never want it back. Alexander Gabriel Claremont-Diaz, I love you. I have loved you for every moment of my life, and I will love you for every moment, with every breath, for the rest of my life. My love, will you marry me?”
Alex tapped his fingers on the counter. “Yeah, turns out I won’t be needing that.” The jeweler was about to offer her apologies again when Alex pulled his left hand from his pocket. “Because Henry beat me to it.” On his finger was a silver band studded with little diamonds, and on his face was the widest, dopiest smile imaginable. “Oh, well congratulations! Unfortunately because yours was a custom piece, I’m unable to accept a return on it.”
“Ah,” Alex replied, and he supposed that made sense. Henry’s ring was also a silver band, though his was engraved with roses–the Tudor rose for England and yellow roses for Texas. There was an engraving on the inside too, two short words: History, Huh? “Can I suggest something?” the jeweler asked, and Alex nodded. “Maybe use it for his wedding band? I could easily have one made for you to match, if that’s the direction you guys want to go.”
Alex smiled, the thought of wedding bands setting a riot of butterflies loose in his stomach. “I’ll have to ask him about that,” he said. “Thank you, sorry to bother you.” “Oh please,” the jeweler said. “You’re not a bother. Plus, you cleared out my store long enough for me to take my lunch break.”
Alex made his way home, where Henry was waiting in the living room. “Turns out I can’t return it,” he explained, accepting his fiance’s (God, would he ever get used to calling Henry his fiance?) kiss. “Why not?” It was then that Alex realized Henry hadn’t seen the ring. Henry had proposed, Alex had tearfully accepted, and then they’d gotten rather distracted. He hadn’t asked to see the ring Alex had made, and Alex hadn’t thought to offer.
“Well, I had it customized,” Alex explained, pulling the box from his jacket pocket, offering it to Henry. Henry cracked it open, gasping softly when he saw the ring. “Alex, this is…” “It’s alright if you don’t want to wear it, baby.” “Put it on me!” Alex smiled. “Really?” “Yes, you cretin! Put it on me!” “Look at the inside first, baby.” Henry did, letting out what sounded like a mix of a laugh and a sob. “Dear God, I love you so damn much. Now put my ring on me!”
Alex took the ring from him, sinking to one knee before him. “You gave me a flowery speech, now it’s your turn. Baby, the love of my fucking life, I understand now why I snuck into June’s room and stared at that picture of you in her magazine. It’s because I was so stupidly in love with you, even then. Henry George Edward James Fox-Moutchristen-Windsor, will you make me the happiest man ever and marry me?”
Now Henry was crying. “Yes, you tosser, now kiss me.” Alex stood, pulling Henry into his arms and kissing him deeply. He slid the ring home, and Henry gazed at it adoringly. “I love you.” Alex kissed him again. “I love you more.” “Again, I believe that’s up for debate.” Hours later, a post goes up on both Alex’s and Henry’s Instagrams; both the same picture with the same caption. Their hands are the focus of the image: Alex’s resting atop Henry’s, their engagement rings shining in the evening light. The caption: Another chapter in the history books, coming up… 💍
#firstprince#alex claremont diaz x henry fox#alex x henry#firstprince fluff#rwrb fanfiction#rwrb#red white and royal blue
42 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Rise of Custom Counter Candle Boxes in the Retail Market
When customers encounter visually appealing and well-designed custom counter candle boxes, they are more likely to be drawn to the product. This attraction can significantly influence purchasing decisions, driving sales and fostering brand loyalty.
For more details visit us: https://community.wongcw.com/blogs/752753/The-Rise-of-Custom-Counter-Candle-Boxes-in-the-Retail
0 notes
Note
14. A is looking for a last minute gift and enlists the shop owner, B, for help, but quickly ends up getting distracted by them. For sashnetra please? ❤️
Here's the Sashnetra version of this prompt for this set of drabbles. Also, the last of the Christmas-themed prompts too! I decided to throw in a little bit of witchy-ness at the end, to mix it up a little. I'm personally not Pagan, so if there's anything I got incorrect on Yule, please let me know!
Sasha didn't expect her store to be so busy the day before Christmas. Usually, she would see a few people coming in for last-minute gift ideas or people who needed gift wrapping. But this year, it was a constant stream of people.
Nearing the end of the day, fewer people were coming in until the store was quiet. Sasha took the time to start organizing the shop again and get ready for closing.
As she hung up her overstock of jewelry, she let her mind wander to her plans for Christmas Day. In years past, it wasn't a day that she would bother opening her store since nobody ever bothered to come in.
"Excuse me? Do you work here?" a female voice said behind her. She turned to see a woman a few years younger than herself with long bright red hair and intense brown eyes.
"Yes, I own this store. How can I help you?" Sasha asked in her infamous customer service voice that took her years to perfect.
The woman took a deep breath, "I just got invited to my mom's family's Christmas and I haven't spoken to them in years. I need to get presents for all of them and this store is the only place open right now." the woman rambled out, slight panic in her eyes. "Sorry, that was probably more than what you needed."
Sasha shook her head to reassure the woman, "No, it's perfectly fine. I can help you find some good gifts in here." she smiled as she led her throughout the store.
The two spent the rest of the evening finding several last-minute gifts. After everyone on the list that the woman brought had gifts on the counter and Sasha checked her out, it was time to close. But part of her didn't want to tell this woman goodnight yet.
"Would you like those gift-wrapped? It'll save you some time," she asked.
"Oh, sure." the woman said, looking at her bags. "How much is it?"
"It's a free service." Sasha lied. She didn't mind losing out on a little money on some paper and ribbons right now.
She took out some gift tags from a drawer, "Who are these gifts from?" she asked.
"It's Anetra." she smiled slightly as she watched Sasha carefully wrap all of the gifts.
Once Sasha tied the ribbon on the last box, she felt a little bit of sadness realizing that she probably wouldn't see Anetra again. Something about Anetra felt familiar to her, she just couldn't tell how.
"Have a good night and happy holidays," Sasha said as Anetra gathered her bags again.
"You too, and Happy Yule." Anetra smiled as she started to walk out of the store.
"Wait a moment," Sasha said, feeling surprised that Anetra somehow knew that Sasha preferred the Pagan traditions. "How did you know I celebrate Yule?" she asked.
"I saw the altar behind the counter," Anetra explained. "It looks really nice, by the way." She pointed past Sasha's shoulder to the small table filled with various plants and candles she'd had up for the past few days.
"Oh, well thank you." She smiled in relief. It felt nice that someone like her came across her path. "Most people think it's a display." she joked. "Good luck tomorrow, I hope it goes well for you and your family."
"Thank you, I'm probably going to need it," Anetra said before leaving through the glass door, and Sasha locked it behind her.
Sasha hoped that she would see Anetra visit the store many times in the new year.
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
Infatuated Diluc has me a bit...👀
Imagine a Diluc that always seems so standoffish to you. Curt, polite, and to the point, he never seems to want to linger in your company. And that's alright, you understand. He's a busy man after all, and the Dawn winery is always chock full of customers, on any given day. You're but a single person, of no real importance, and you won't take up too much of his time.
But if only you knew the truth.
Diluc is smitten. Infatuated. Enamored.
He wants to wallow in it.
Diluc who always gives you a discount, so much so that you know you're paying far too little for how much you actually drank. And he always makes them himself; like another person doing so would be a critical hit to his pride.
Diluc who always ties his hair up high whenever you sit at the counter. He saw the way you looked at him once when he did so, and he always does it now, if only to keep your eyes on him a moment longer. He doesn't know what the appeal is there, but no harm, no foul.
Precisely why he also wears those corsets, high backed and cinched tight. Of course, they are amazing for back support, given how heavy claymores can be, but he likes the way your eyes trail across him. It is like fingers at his spine, warm and ginger. The candles gutter and writhe.
Diluc has memorized the group you always come in with. The ones who always get drunk first, the one who always pulls you to dance, the one that sets up the drinking games, the ones you walk home with.
He gives them all discounts to, if only because he doesn't want to seem like he's favoring you.
And because they're the ones making you laugh so lovely.
Archons, he's whipped.
Somehow your favorite bards are always in house or on stage whenever you visit the winery, always ready to spiel a tale or song. They always seem to have a preference for love songs though, but maybe that's just your sappy tastes.
You never have to worry about leaving your drink unattended, because you can always leave it with Master Diluc. Often, he would just give you a refill of whatever you left with him, with hardly a glance when you try to deny.
You remember once, you tried to shove some mora across the counter so you could finally pay your full share. Tried, since Master Diluc kept pushing it back towards you. It was like a game, with you trying to shove the coins into his hands, him being too quick to do that, instead pushing the coins back so they fall into your lap. You've taken to leaving the mora in inconspicuous places that only the servants, or one red headed man, could find. You'll find the exact amount of mora back on your person in some form; like in the bottom of your glass, or hidden inside a box of Dominoes, handed to you before a round. This game is ongoing.
And you feel so special, playing around like this with Monstadt's most eligible bachelor, makes you feel a connection.
Even if you tell yourself not to get ahead of yourself.
But he wants you to. He wants you to push boundaries, test the heat a little. He… likes this. You. He's never had something like before, and he wants to wallow in it a little.
So, indulge him, why don't you?
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#my stuff#brainrot#my writing#genshin diluc#diluc ragnvindr#diluc x reader#diluc ragnivindr x you#master diluc#diluc ragnivindr x reader#diluc ragnivinder#diluc ragnivindr#thoughts#drabble#fluff
44 notes
·
View notes
Note
' Tyler, darling, would you mind terribly if I bought all your pink candles? Or, commissioned you to make me a batch? ' Naturally, the vampire had no true need for any of them at present - much too focused on the notion of pink candles to really think up anything tangible. Plus, it was a free excuse to pay Tyler a visit, and Vayn did so love his social calls. ' Do you... do you take commissions? ' / vayn @ tyler !
Tyler smiled upon his name being called, hauling a box onto the surface of his counter, he turned his head towards his customer and very adorable friend. "Pink candles? Like every pink candle I own or a specific type? Because I've got scented and unscented, some with pink centres under another colour and wax melts and lots more?" Tyler dusted his hands off to step away from his work for a moment and step closer to Vayn's place in his store. Patting a beam on his passing to stop nearby and smile upon Vayn's queries. "Oh, defo do, cutie-pie. Everything in the shops made by me, so if you've got a specific look or design, aroma or use for it. I can happily make you one or more."
"You got a party planned or something?" Curious with genuine interest to the sudden want for them. "I've got a load in storage already boxed for the standard stick made from soy or beewax. Can take a bit to pull them all out though. Want me to deliver them to your place?"
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
augh. i’m on mobile now so i can’t write out my every detailed thought (though i will probably a longer post on this later with basic descriptions for other people’s refs + for me to reflect on when/if i can draw them out), but the gist of a few of the main scenes in my mind:
- kai: very few personal items that are not clothes or gifts. never buys more food than need be, and always sets up his living space to be something that can easily be repacked and moved elsewhere. if it weren’t for his bedroom and the chidouins’ vase of flowers in the kitchen, you wouldn’t realize anyone even lived in this apartment.
- sara: the chidouins have photos of family hanging up in a lot of places, and mr. chidouin displays a photobook next to his safe on the shelving. their walls are made of dark red wood, having a warm & rich (literal and figurative) feel to it... usual upkeep thanks to kai, but they have a bit of traditional fabric as the table setting + in blankets, and then custom furniture... sara lives at the furthest end of the house, & her window is barred off... but her father gifted her a telescope. and has a desk in her room to focus in evenings so her parents can relax w tv or talking. mr. chidouin has an office on the other end of the house, reinforced soundproofing in these walls. sara has a jewelry box and small music box she keeps in the jewelry box’s drawer.. ahh and so much more.. so much more. i will leave that for later.
- reko: an apartment that’s generally clean (bc she has friends over often), jackets strewn around near the door (she doesn’t wanna stick her jackets in with her normal clothes, and doesn’t have any other closet really) & her shoes haphazardly shoved into the shoe cabinet (except her boots). with posters plastered up in her room, almost always has a candle set on top of her dresser that’s lit. a camera at her bedside, with cool knives in her drawer. has a slightly elevated bed, with instruments tucked in the section beneath & hidden by her sheets falling over the side of the bed. so on... mostly smaller, random things hanging around to indicate she’s here. she has random notebooks she often forgets she leaves out with sketches/notes/lyrics/people's numbers, it's a fun surprise for later! (read: a friend finds it and asks her what the tagalog means and she is like hm. something management won't like. lemme rewrite this chorus and we can try it)
- shin: family has cats... they mostly stay in his room, & with general cleanliness, he rarely reuses clothes and has his laundry hamper at the end of his bed that the cats climb up to sleep with him at night. family keeps a photobook, but has no photos actually hanging around. shin’s bed is against the wall furthest from the window, which has a (now sunbleached) blanket thrown over it instead of a proper curtain because they went so long without actually getting one that’d keep the sun from peering in and waking him up despite staying up until 4am and wanting to sleep in. whole computer + desk + high quality speakers in his room with a specified drawer of labeled hard drives. very clean; despite wavering energy, he sanitizes & replaces his sheets at least once every two weeks.
- keiji: went into this a bit earlier, but yeah... unorganized place. dishes on his kitchen counters instead of cupboards, which just contributes to ingredients being in the living room of all places; has a chair in his room w clothes that aren’t dirty enough to warrant cleaning yet; tools he idly messes with & mail he has to read just tend to pile up wherever he tried settling down to work with it... mostly struggles to manage repetitive menial things on his own.
- kanna: so so many flower & other plants :] has a large tree just outside her window that she used to fantasize of crawling out of her window and climbing down. names plants, though kugie struggles to keep up. has a lot of sketches of plants scattered around because kugie keeps forgetting to buy a folder for her to put them in so they aren’t all over their dresser & the floor, but keeps her plant pattern-pressing book on her at almost all times, otherwise it’s in their shared bedside drawer. kanna is the one who likes changing sheets & finds putting on bedsheets enriching... theey have a full body mirror that the kizuchis’ grandfather made that kanna stuck so many stickers on when she was younger. kugie keeps her backpack next to her bed, in-between the table drawer; kanna has hers hanging on the foot of her bed..
+ more later...ahhi’m. so asleep. goodnigh
#i repeated myself w the last two augghg...!! it's fine.. i hope you enjoy nonetheless...#they are so distinct in my mind's eye... reflecting so many things about eachperson in the most subtle ways#jestersvaguely#yttdposting#long post
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
@ayaz--ates Event: Mistletoe 2022 | Canon (you heard that right, ladies and gents). Dated: 11th of December, 2022 Location: Harrods, London.
If there was one thing that Cece loved just as much as her own blood (a short list, mind you), it was Harrods at Christmas time. ‘cause as much as her daughters love to tease her about it, the blonde was actually proud to call herself, ‘a basic Christmas loving bitch’ though, she did disagree with them on that last part. That word was left for Russian women who continued to betray their own kind. BUT, now was not the time for any of that. now was the time for Christmas candles, holly and tasteful (yes, none of those obviously made out of plastic ones) garlands. Where to even begin?
She walked inside. The sweet aromas of plum, black currents and other festive fruits filled the air. She made a note to visit Harrods candle section on her way out. She had plans to be here for awhile and although she really wanted to stock up in the house fragrance department she also didn’t want to spend her entire morning carting around boxes of heavy candles either. Forgoing the tantalising section for now, Cece headed upstairs where the women’s fashion department dominated. Ah.. home sweet home.
Her hand trailed across various outfits as she weaved her way through the mannequins. Was she after anything in particular? Not really. But, she did have three daughters she needed to buy various gifts for and even though they all agreed this year they’d make donations to their favorite charities for one another instead, the mother still felt the temptation to treat them for all their kindness and hard work throughout the year.
After finally settling on three nice jackets.. the kind that would definitely have her girls noticed by anyone subscribed to good taste magazine, the blonde made her way up to the counter to wait her turn in line. She didn’t mind waiting. It was the Christmas season after all and she knew it was to be expected. But, after checking her watch for what... the sixth time?!? For fuck sake. Cece had decided, that whoever was currently serving at the counter needed to call for backup or realise that she wasn’t getting paid to flirt with the customers... pronto. “Uh, excuse me.. excuse me.. do you mind ringing these up for me quickly. I've got other things I need to get done today. Plus, I’m sure you this man wouldn’t mind taking your number, so you can continue this chat after your shift is over.” Of course that’s when she made the grave mistake of turning and making eye contact with the object of store clerk’s desires.. you have to be shitting me.
“You!” It was all she could say. Her thoughts too occupied right now to form any other words. God, she needed to seek out time today to go to confession. ‘Cause whatever she’d done. Whatever sin she’d committed was serious enough for her to attract the attention of an actual living demon. “Are you following me?” It seemed reasonable enough. London was a big city after all and she hadn’t taken him as the kind of guy to shop at Harrods.
11 notes
·
View notes