I’m Not A Regular Blog, I’m A Cool Blog

glue song by bebadoobee is THE stardew valley song

hullo tia!! i love lovr loveee your writing!! i was wondering, do you have some specific recs for harvey and sam fics? 🫶🫶

oh boy do i !! i love giving reccs and shouting out some of my favourite writers, so i hope you love these fics as much as i did 🫶

* = the fic features nsfw content; not suitable for those under 18.

harvey reccs:

echos and equilibrium* by @hotelraleigh

this series is honestly one of the best, the way raleigh writes slow burn and tension ?? i'm a blushing mess every time. the perfect balance of angst, comfort, and smut.

A Blunder, a Bluff, and a Bet with Fate* by @mossymountain

mossy is a phenomenal writer; this series is a masterclass in narrative tension, character development, and realism in a fantasy setting. cannot recommend this one enough aaa.

Torment by @nanamikeento

you already KNOW i adore this fic, but let me praise it some more !! the dialogue is so tender,, and the atmosphere gabi manages to craft in a fairly short story is just... astounding.

Harvey being your husband would include... by @jupiter-letters

i need this old man so bad y'all,, these headcanons are so spot-on, and so dreamy <3 jupiter managed to capture the vibes of a classic 90s romcom with this one and i am Swooning !!

sam reccs:

8:05 by @peeweekey

anytime key writes a sam fic it's perfection !! she's an incredible writer who has mastered writing fluff, and i honestly can't wait to read more !!

Drunken Nights* by @deepestnightcolor

in vino veritas, my beloved <33 theres no way i can review this fic while remaining sfw, so i implore you to just read and enjoy.

Drained (chapter one) by @coughedfeathers

i know it's strange to include just one chapter of a fic here, (the first chapter is sam-specific) but !!!!! i love some good comfort/fluff, and the author's writing is descriptive and warm-- cannot recommend his fics enough <3

Puppy!Sam* by @sashiavi

,,i hauve covid,,, everything risa writes makes me feral, but her puppy!sam fics destory me. he really is such a good boy !!

SAM

fics

sweet like (fluff; 1.7k words)

8:05 (fluff; 3.2k words)

homecoming (hurt/comfort; 3.2k)

everyone adores you, at least i do (fluff, pining; 1.1k)

“Is it okay if I draw fanart of your fanfic?👉🏼👈🏼”

My brother in Christ we shall have a spring wedding

im back on my regularly scheduled girlblogging

it’s winter and sam’s your secret santa…

stardew valley pngs 🌱

he helps you clear the farm of leaves during fall but what he doesn’t tell you is that he hides those leaves in the back to burn when you set up the bonfire later

you best believe sam is throwing random shit into the bonfire to watch it burn

WHEEW i hope you guys enjoy that fic bec i wont have time for another till may 😭

i visited idiot street and everyone knew your name!

part i, part ii, part iii

synopsis: the three times you friendzoned Alhaitham, and the one he made damn sure you didn't.

tags: alhaitham/reader ; school setting ; valentine's day special ; reader likes sewing ; miscommunication

Valentine’s day comes rolling around the next year, and you are sadly not present to witness Alhaitham lengthen his trail of broken hearts. A shame, really. This year, you were looking forward to bringing popcorn for the occasion—just to see him squirm.

You’ve been cooped up in the homeroom lab for the better part of the week, sewing and snipping away at one of the costumes for the school’s fair. Unlike last year, you don’t have your seniors to help you pin fabrics right or to assist in hand stitching plastic beads, as the newly appointed tailor's club head you have a lot more duties to take on.

It’s exhausting, you feel the deep creases underneath your eye—dreading to head to the bathroom and accidentally look into the mirror to face your own haggard appearance—and the dull ache in your hands and back is blocking any sense you could have.

The club room is otherwise quiet if not for the lo-fi beat playing from your phone’s speaker and the rhythmic snips of scissors gliding over fabric. You focus all your brain power on the task—fabric is not cheap and you don’t have enough mora in your wallet if you lose focus and mess up—and remain blissfully unaware of any potential distraction.

To be honest, it hadn’t even registered in your head that you weren’t alone in the room anymore, until the gentlest tap on your shoulder has you snapping your focus away from the brocade.

The sight of just who has you unconsciously gaping your mouth like a blubbering fish in shock—Alhaitham.

He stares at you blankly, his gaze is so intense it’s a little unnerving, you freeze up before him, and probably make yourself look like an idiot in the process.

Suddenly, the state of your appearance becomes a presiding worry. Having skipped lunch in favor of patterning tulle perfectly on the dummy mannequin. Your uniform is crumpled, creased with the lack of motion, stray threads and fabric fibers cover you head to toe similar to lint. It’s almost humiliating to be seen so disheveled by Alhaitham—when he himself looks like the epitome of put-together flawlessness.

“Haitham,” you start, smoothing out the fabric laid out on the table, it’s soft and smooth under your fingertips. “Need something?”

He spares a glance to whatever you’re fidgeting with behind you then to your face, which in turn makes you fist the work-in-progress fabric tighter in your hand.

Alhaitham seems to search for something in your expression, his gaze feels like it’s poking and prodding in your soul. Your hands itch to cover up whatever’s he’s fixated on, but you settle on the second best option; staring back just as hard and ten times more intensely.

“The second button of my shirt,” he says, Alhaitham points at his stark white button up, right where a button lay missing. You arch a brow at that, he’s most definitely only here to ask you to mend his shirt. No other reason.

And you are definitely not disappointed right now too.

Swallowing hard, your eyes drift to his face. “Do you need a replacement button?”

A crease forms between his brows. “No.”

Well.

“O-kay,” that stumps you, “What about it then?” you shoot him a puzzled look, folding your arms tightly across your chest.

That makes him pause. “I wanted to check if you wanted it.”

“…your button?”

“Yes, that’s why I came over here.”

He must be kidding. The two of you are standing in the homeroom lab, there’s a surplus of small white buttons, you’d rather pick from there than have him ruin a perfectly good shirt.

“Uh no thanks,” you scratch at the back of your neck, extremely confused. “I have a lot more buttons in the drawer, there’s no need to take one off your back.”

Once you said that and saw the expression on his face, you knew immediately that it was the wrong choice—even if it wasn’t a test question. Alhaitham does not pout, but that’s something he would say. If you were asked, the way his lips twitch downward slightly is pouting.

“I understand,” he says shortly and starts to turn back and reach for the door. You cannot hide your bewildered expression, pinching your brows in confusion.

“Wait—hold it right there,” you call, stepping a step or two following him. You, not wanting your conversation to end on such an unusually awkward note. “What’s up with you?”

“It’s nothing,” he says and you practically hear the sulky edge to his voice—something you swore he left back in middle school—still, he turns back to face you. “If you don’t want it, I won’t give it to you.”

Sighing, you step even closer to close some of the distance, holding your palm out impatiently to him. “Come over here, grumpy. I’ll take the button.”

He eases up slightly. “Don’t force yourself.”

Why you ought to wring this man by the neck. You place your free hand to rest on your waist. “You’re not forcing me, now hand it over.”

Alhaitham stands his ground, but eventually cracks, offering a compromise. “...I’ll leave it on the table.”

“Okay,” your eyes flutter shut in exhaustion and slight irritation—confusion more than anything. “See you, Haitham.”

He bids you goodbye, calling your name softly.

You hear the door slide open, then shut.

When you open your eyes, a singular translucent white button sits on your working table—along with a box of fine confectioners chocolate.

What a loser, you think. Though your smile betrays that thought.

You skip back to your work and suddenly, you aren’t so exhausted anymore.