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Hallowed Ground
@drarrymicrofic | words: 55 | prompt: ground
“WOAH, WOAH, WOAH— What do you think you’re doing?!”
“Err— pulling weeds?”
Harry gasped, affronted. “This is hallowed ground. We planted seeds of love here— do you even care?!”
“Harry—”
“Everything that grows here is natural— sacred. Not to be desecrated by… humanistic aesthetics!”
Draco sighed, exasperated. “I fucked you in the garden ONE TIME.”
Aid and Comfort
by TurnSpitDog
Rated T, 12,693 words
Status: Complete
Summary:
Cut off from access to Earth, the hosts of Hell find other ways to torment Crowley. Aziraphale provides a refuge.
Why We Love It:
A story that sticks to canon, in this Book Omens fic Aziraphale and Crowley don’t live in each other’s pockets, and Aziraphale is actually rather snippy and somewhat protective of his private space. But when Crowley starts having a problem with Hell, Aziraphale immediately steps up to help him.
With funny, clever dialogue, we’re treated to multiple scenes of how Hell is slowly driving Crowley mad, until the final, crucial scene where it seems all is lost. In the end, our angel and demon pair have to admit that they’re better off together than apart. Obviously.
Tags: Book Omens, Hell is terrible, BAMF Aziraphale, Moving in together, First Kiss
Review by @spectrallydistracted
Read on AO3
Posted on AO3, for my darling muse, @plagueislost 😊
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
never could be sweeter than with you by mseg_21
@steveseddie
Rating: Teen and Up Audiences
23,356 words, 1/1 chapters
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Tags: Post-Stranger Things 4 Vol. 2, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eddie Munson Lives, POV Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Good Uncle Wayne Munson, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Sharing Clothes, Sharing a Bed, Smoking, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Getting Together, 5+1 Things
Summary:
“Good morning, Mr. Munson, is Eddie home? Um, that’s a stupid question, of course he’s home.” Steve chuckles nervously. Steve. That’s Steve at Eddie’s door. “Is he awake?” “He’s awake, son, but I gotta warn you, he’s in a pissy mood today,” Wayne’s gruff voice replies. “Wayne!” Eddie protests loudly. “Just telling it like it is,” Wayne throws over his shoulder. “You still wanna come in?” He asks Steve. “If that's okay, Mr. Munson.” God, he’s so polite. Eddie hates that he finds it endearing. “Please call me Wayne, son.” Eddie doesn’t even get a chance to try and make himself look somewhat decent. Right away, there’s the sound of the door closing and then Wayne walks back into the living space with Steve in tow, looking perfectly put together in his neat polo shirt and blue jeans. Eddie is still in his fucking pajamas, for fuck’s sake. or 5 times Steve visits Eddie and lies about why + 1 time Eddie catches him in the lie
Thanks for the rec! This recommendation is apart of our Writer's Wednesday! All of the recs today are written by @steveseddie. Want to nominate an author? Fill out this form!
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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Have you read by the skin of your teeth?
Yes
It's in my bookmarks/saved for later/I intend to now
No
No, and I don't read Gravity Falls fics
Summary:
In which Ford's attempt to survive entirely on caffeine and paranoia suffers some pitfalls, and things happen differently in 1982.
Author:
@apathetic-revenant
Sequence 04 is online!!
Read it here.
with fancy trailer shots for you mhmm mhmm
Kingdon Microfic Month
Day 2: Champagne
@kingdonmicrofic
“Easy there,” Frank groans as he ushers an incredibly wobbly Mel back into her hotel room. The door slams behind them as one of his hands searches for the light switch and the other holds Mel upright.
Frank never should’ve let Mel out of his sight. The servers at the PTMC gala are always liberal in handing out their offerings of champagne and other libations. Mel had mentioned the other day how she wanted to “let loose for once” and she used that to her advantage, he supposes, in accomplishing her goal of releasing her inhibitions.
And Frank would never stop her from having a good time. Out of everyone at the PTMC, she deserved a pass to be a little messy. Still, when he found her hanging off of Trinity’s shoulder, loudly declaring to Jack Abbott, “I’m not even that drunk!!” Frank knew she was in fact that drunk. And as her friend, it was his duty to make sure she didn’t end up in a bad situation.
“But I dunwanna,” Mel whines, clinging to the collar of Frank’s disheveled suit and nearly dragging him down onto the floor with her. Thankfully, he manages to regain his footing quickly enough to, essentially, use the momentum to fling her towards the bed.
“Weeee!” Mel's voice rises and falls with glee as her back hits the mattress. “Do that again!!” she demands.
Frank digs his thumbs into his lower back and presses inward, stretching his abdomen until he feels and hears a pop.
“No way, party girl. You need water and rest,” he says and makes his way to fill a glass from the coffee bar with water from the bathroom sink.
“Awwww! You’re no fun…” he can practically hear her pout. Brows drawn up, pursed lips, watery eyes that looked ten times bigger thanks to her glasses. He definitely would bend to her whim if he could see her.
“I know, that’s why they call me doctor no fun,” he calls out over the rush of water filling the cup. When he returns, he finds Mel sprawled out on the bed, pancake style, holding her head. Groaning and rubbing her eyes beneath her glasses.
“Here,” he says, holding out the cup, “I don’t need to tell you that this will help, but…”
Her hazy gaze peeks out from under her hands, pushing her glasses up to her dewy forehead. It takes a bit for her eyes to focus on him, but when they do, Frank has to stop himself from commenting on how beautiful they look. Shimmering despite the shitty hotel room lighting and, you know, being intoxicated.
“How many drinks did you even have?” he asks instead.
“Uh…” Mel takes the glass and downs two large gulps of water, “more than five,” she admits sheepishly. Her face flush a deep shade that reminds him of a ripe cherry.
And Frank loves to sink his teeth into tart, juicy cherries.
“What am I going to do with you, Dr. King?” he hums, shaking his head, and sits at the foot of the bed to put as much space between them as possible.
Mel shrugs and takes another swig.
“You can stay till I fall asleep, I suppose? Make sure I don’t choke on my own vomit?” she says quietly into the cup, looking at him through lowered eyelashes and gently sucking along the rim of the glass.
Frank swallows. If he were a worse man, he’d crawl over to her and sober her up with his mouth. Drown her in kisses to those wet lips, scarlet cheeks and—
But he’s trying to be a good friend. Friends don’t take advantage of each other when they’re drunk.
“I can make that happen, but you gotta promise me you’ll drink all that water and some, yeah?”
Mel nods and gulps down the rest of her water.
“Fetch me another!” she jeers, waving the cup in his direction, in a mock British accent that Frank can’t help but laugh at.
“Of course, my lady,” he says in an equally ridiculous accent and takes the cup from her outstretched hand.
Again, he’s trying to be good.
692/158
Out of air
@sassay-fox challenged me to write 500 words of fluff after she saw the small sneak peek of my current wip.... and well, here you go. It's doable. Apparently.
The sun beams down and Buck grins, squinting against its rays. His cheeks hurt from the amount of smiling he's doing but he can't seem to stop. A finger prods at his face, pushing in hard enough to hit his teeth. "You look deranged," Eddie mutters. "You're scaring small children." "I'm happy, Eddie," Buck tells him. Peering over at his best friend, Buck taps his own fingertip to Eddie's pink cheekbone. "You're smiling too." Eddie shrugs, "can you blame me?" Honestly, Buck can't. He swings their joined hands with a shake of his head, "no," Buck rasps, "not really." Coming to a stop, Buck stands in front of Eddie, free hand cupping his cheek, just because Buck can. He's allowed to touch Eddie like this, gently, reverently, intimately. There's a fond expression on Eddie's face that's completely unfiltered and tender. It's a look Buck has seen before in a way, but almost less. As if Eddie was holding himself back from showing everything. "I love you," Buck whispers, dipping his head and bringing their lips together. Kissing Eddie is a revelation, it's Buck's new favourite thing to do. All kinds of kisses are perfect with him. The hungry, dominating one that led to Eddie straddling Buck's lap and grinding against him like horny teenagers. The delicate, barely there peck that Eddie had given Buck after shyly asking can I try something? The sweet, warm morning cling of lips before they got out of bed a few hours ago. This light catching of Eddie's lower lip between Buck's is perfectly chaste and still Buck moans. Eddie breaks the kiss with his smile. "I love you too, Buck," he murmurs, stealing another kiss. Unfortunately, Eddie takes that moment to step away and Buck pouts. "I can't kiss you forever in-" "You could," Buck cajoles, closing the distance between them again. There's an amused puff of fond laughter, Eddie's canines on display with how wide his smile is. "I could," he agrees and Buck takes that as permission to slip his free hand down Eddie's chest to curl around his waist. "But I don't think it's a good idea, tesoro," Eddie tells him, "not in the grocery store parking lot." Glancing around, Buck eyes the cars and people, he meets Eddie's gaze and shrugs. "Don't think they'd care," Buck whispers. "So you can keep kissing me, baby." Eddie rolls his eyes but there's no heat there, just affection and love that Buck has always seen and never been able to name. Until last night. Leaning in, Eddie brushes his lips over Buck's, feather-light and tender, teasing as he pulls back and draws in again. Over and over Eddie kisses Buck until he's practically giddy. "C'mon," Eddie murmurs, stepping away and tugging Buck with him. "I gotta fill my cupboards before we go home or Chris'll starve." "I'll make something," Buck counters. With a snort, Eddie says, "you can't make food out of air, Buck." Grumbling as he follows Eddie, Buck mutters, "I could."
