#and I've never had to actually shit in the woods

[moongothic]

I have a lot of scrap materials. Scrap wood, foam, fabric, and god knows what else. Just, a lot of leftovers from previous projects.

So I figured I could try to MAKE something out of them, just to put those materials into use so they could become something instead of just sitting around uselessly, taking space and collecting dust.

I thought making a footstool could be a fun, easy-ish project for me to do this winter.

So here, come along with me on this journey of making a wonky, scrap footstool

So key thing here is that I very specifically wanted to avoid buying ANYTHING for this project. I did end up buying two things, a pullsaw (which is a general tool I can use in other projects, so I figured I could get away with it), and one itty bitty thing that ended up costing like, what, 2€?

But yes, my goal was to use things I already have and give them a purpose, not accumulate any MORE scrap materials. This is important because through out this project I ended up using many Unideal Methods For Doing Things, mainly because I didn't have enough material to do it The Ideal Way.

This is not a tutorial for efficiency, this is my journey to repurpose garbage. Just wanna be clear about that. There are better ways to build a footstool.

Anyway, I started the project from arguably the weirdest part; figuring out how much fabric I had from the chair project

The thing was that I wanted to make the footstool as big as I possibly could with the material I had, so I had to start this project by figuring out the maximum size I could do with the fabric I had.

So I figured out the dimensions I could do (even cut the fabric pieces while I was at it), and then using those dimensions as a guide, I went off to figure out the wood pieces I would need for the frame of the stool, as well as the feet. Once I had things measured out, I cut the pieces and boom

Wood pieces obtained.

Sidenote, yes, a 90 degree angle on the corners would have looked much prettier than what I did, I just figured that this would be easier to cut (I cut those pieces before I bought my new pullsaw), also, I wasn't sure how I would perma-attach the pieces if the corners were done like that. Like, with these corners, I could fortify them with dowels or nails or whatever, but clean corners at an angle? I have no idea how to pull that off, and I don't have the energy to to try anything fancy, man, I wanted this to be semi-easy

(There was no way in hell I was gonna attempt somekinda dovetail joint here, I didn't have enough wood to work with (there was a point where I was actually worried I wouldn't have enough wood to build the frame at all) and god knows I'm nowhere near good enough at wood working to pull something like that off)

Anyway, I did originally intend to attach the wood pieces with dowels, since they'd be hidden and look neat (by not being visible at all), but when I drilled the first hole for the first dowel, I realized that 1) I didn't have a drill bit large enough for the dowel to fit in, and 2) I did not have it in me to actually do it. Like, to make sure the wood pieces would allign correct I would have to make sure I was drilling Very Straight into the wood, not once, not four times, but 16 times (since I was planning on using 2 dowels at each joint). If I didn't drill the dowel holes perfectly straight and perfectly aligned, the frame wouldn't come together, and I did not want to risk fucking that up, man, no

So I took the easy way out.

Nails.

I do kinda regret picking these nails, I should've used less obvious ones OR waited until the wood was painted before nailing them together because these are kinda pretty nails, so it ended up being kind of a waste to use them (since there was no way I was gonna AVOID these nails while painting the wood). IDK I was worried the glue alone wouldn't hold the wood strong enough while I was working with the frame or something and chose poorly here. But it is what it is. (On the plus side, we seemed to have exactly 12 of these nails, which was the exact perfect amount)

Anyways, yes, I chose to paint the frame because I have leftover paint (and primer) from the previous project so I figured I might as well use it up. Even though I hate this fucking paint so much

Two or three coats of primer, a gentle sanding after them, the wood was perfectly smooth and lovely

Then came the paint and it looks like shit, just like last time

I did like. What, four coats of paint. Sanding between the coats. Dilluting it so it wouldn't be so thick. And yet. And yet it looks like shit. Just like last time, with the chair I refinished. I mean I knew it was gonna turn out like ass but I'm still kind of shocked by how bad it turned out.

Anyway. Ideally you'd probably make a cushion onto some random piece of plywood (or something similar) that you would slot into the frame of the stool. I did not have any plywood pieces, nor did I have enough wood to make a small, thinner frame to slot into the main frame. So.

To create a bottom I used this ribbon that I have an entire fuckload of (since I bought it for that fucking lamp before realizing I couldn't use it and couldn't return either, literally have nothing better to do with it so here it goes) to weave a bottom onto the frame. And a bit later I attached a piece of fabric on top of the weaving (another leftover from the lamp project), as this would be what I'd glue the cushion onto.

But first, I had to make a cushion!

As you can see, I have a lot of scrap foam

(Yes I've kept the original foam from the styrofoam chair, I did cut it down to get rid of the damaged edges (after taking this photo) but otherwise the foam is fine, shhhhhh) (Also the white foam is what I bought for the chair project, the yellow foam is something my mom had bought years ago that we've had laying around for ages)

I wanted the cushion of the stool to have some height to it, but I didn't have any thick pieces of foam, so I figured I could just make a thick foam piece from the scraps I had, with some help from the foam glue I have (the same stuff I bought for the styrofoam chair but wasn't able to use since it melted the styrofoam).

Started by figuring out the rough dimensions of the foam piece I'd need (from the biggest, cleanest piece I had)

And I got started making a Foam Sandwich

Let me tell you my hands were an absolute mess during this whole process, I was essentially washing my hands with fucking nail polish remover (I just noticed the foam glue smelled like nail polish remover and realized it would probably get rid of the residue on my hands, which it did, thank fuck), it was nasty

But yes, Big Foam Sammich. I did start lowkey cutting it WHILE I was building the cushion, since my goal here was to not waste materials so. Y'know. I tried to make sure I wouldn't waste materials.

After the cushion was formed, I let it dry for a good while before I went in to shave the edges and cut it down. After that I used this floofier scrap foam to cover the sandwich. I could have glued it on, but I figured I had killed enough of my braincells while making the foam sandwich and breathing in the glue fumes that I decided that sewing would be good enough.

Two flooffy foam pieces were enough to cover the cushion, I just sewed them together on top and sewed them to the bottom of the cushion. It was quite easy indeed.

With that all done, I could attach the finished cushion onto the frame!

Brought the glue back out so I could just glue the foam onto the fabric that was stapled onto the frame, and I allowed it to dry (upside down, with some weights)

And yes, ideally you would staple the foam down onto a separate piece of wood, but since it was going directly on top of the frame and I didn't want to staple it onto the frame, I didn't. I wanted the wood (and my shitty paint job) to be visible, and the fabric would need to be stapled onto the frame anyways, so the glue just had to do the job here.

ANYWAY, UPHOLSTERY TIME

Since the fabric pieces were long done, I could just get straight into it. I pinned the fabric pieces down and handsewed the whole thing. I do admit I regret not ironing the fabric before I started though, I forgot and by the time I realized it was too late, and there was no way I was going to lift the fabric off the stool at this point. I learned my god damn lesson with the styrofoam chair, I know there would've been no way for me to put the fabric back down as neatly as it had been before, it was not worth it.

Anyway, I sewed the fabric and to finish things off I stapled the bottom of the fabric down, onto the frame. And yes I did a wonky ass job, shush

And here comes the one thing I ended up buying for this project, the thing that cost me like 2€

Decorative ribbon to hide the staples! Since I couldn't think of any other way to hide the staples.

And y'all, I understand now why people normally just glue this shit on, it took me like FIVE FUCKING HOURS to sew the ribbon onto the stool!! Mainly because my smallest upholstery needle was WAY too big for this job, and my thinner straight needless were too hard to use for this. My fingers were hurting so bad even the next day, like I understand what thimbles are for now, holy shit

Also. I did not have black sewing thread. So I ended up using yellow thread and then gently went over it with a black (waterproof) marker so the thread wouldn't be visible over the ribbon. (I didn't take photos of it so you'll just have to take my word for it)

So yeah. Shit took forever, I wish I had a hotglue gun but I don't, so it just had to be done the hard way. All things considdered though, it worked out alright, and the ribbon is nice and secure on the stool.

Now, you might've noticed that I haven't mentioned doing anything to the feet of the stool. That's because I haven't finished them.

It's the middle of winter. It's cold. I can't be bothered to go outside to stand the cold for hours to finish the feet of the stool. I need to shape them, I need to sand them, I need to make sure they're all the same lenght etc, all this before I can even prime and paint them and attach them to the frame. But since I can't access our patio, I can't use my orbital sander to speed things up. And I can't be bothered to do all that word by sanding the wood by hand. I am far too lazy for that man, nah

So I'm going to finish this project when the weather gets nicer and our patio isn't covered in a meter of snow.

I'll finish the feet of the footstool later.

So there will probably be a follow up to this post later

But yeah, here's my unideal, imperfect footstool, made almost entirely out of scrap materials.

It looks like ass, but hey I've never tried to build a piece of furniture before, give me a break, I'm a comic artist not a furniture maker

[sweetnans]

You've been fighting. A lot.

Lately, it's been more bantering and spatting at each other than being the couple you used to be.

It started with Katsuki staying in the agency more. There were multiple attacks from villains, and the paperwork was endless.

Then you decided that it was good for you to pick up more shifts. You started part-time, and now you were picking double shifts that landed on his days off.

Days and weeks passed by where you hadn't seen each other in the frequency you did before.

Till death tear us apart

The inside part of your wedding ring was a constant reminder that death wasn't breaking up your marriage. It was, in fact, the time that wasn't being fair with the two of you.

One night, when you and him magically had the same schedule and reunited at home for dinner, everything blew off.

It started like a subtle conversation. How was your day? Where have you been? Tell me about your week... and then boom. The bomb exploded right under your nose.

You were crying because you missed him, he was angry because he missed you too and he felt like the problem was leaking in between his fingers and he couldn't do anything to stop it.

Everything was a big fat mess.

"I didn't want this for us," you said, grabbing your head with both of your hands. Tears dripping from your face to the mahogany table.

"Me neither!" He was pacing in front of the table from one side to another.

He felt like it was the end of it, and it was the first time in years that he felt scared. He didn't want to lose you ever.

"Then what do we do?" You whispered. Your throat clogged because of the pain. You loved the man in front of you, every piece of him.

"Fix this fucking thing I guess" he shrugged finally stopping his feet. He was hurt for seeing you there broken because of him.

"You don't have to say it like that," you muttered, lowering your head, busy staring at the stains of your tears in the wood.

The whispers, the cracking in your voice, your face stained with tears. No, he wouldn't be that kind of man. That type of husband.

He promised the day he decided to be yours forever, long before you sealed your relationship at the altar, that he would do everything to make you entirely happy.

Do you need more time? Fine, he would reduce his hours at the agency. Do you need him to be more romantic? You got it, he would buy you flowers and chocolates. God, he would do anything for you. You just have to name it.

You were worth fighting for.

He stomped quickly to your side, lowering his body and kneeling by your side. He grabbed your hand in between his hands, and with careful caresses, he made your eyes meet with his.

"Shit, sweatheart, you know who I am, and I know you know that I've never felt something like this for anyone. It's just you and me in our world, " he pronounced, no mumbling or half grunts. He was actually speaking at you with his entire heart. "I'm yours completely, and I would do anything for deserving being by your side. I know I have to change some things and I'll do it because I want you and only you"

The only sound that came out of your mouth were hiccups. You were a sobing mess. You needed to change things too, but looking at Katsuki so eager and willing to make your relationship and marriage work gave you the enough courage to actually make a change and to never forget what you have in front of you, an amazing man with a heart of gold.

[talaok]

Win Again

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x sex worker f!reader

Summary: Marcus has won yet another match, so to reward him, his master has granted him another hour with you.

warning: smut| unprotected piv, oral (f receiving), a whole lot of manhandling, he like uses your body idk how to explain it, multiple orgasms, and once again unnecessary feelings cause im not able to write something where they just fuck for some reason

a/n: i know im two days late but PLEASE read this still. (also) basic things for this guy that i've decided are canon: 1)he has a monster cock, like actually scarily big, 2) he's real fucking strong (hulk typa shit), 3) he's not a big talker (but he is a grunter). I need this man to fuck me more than i need my next breath (real), also i did so much research for this fic and you cant even fucking tell

It wasn't often that you didn't dread going to the barracks.

These were strong, ferocious, and dangerous men, and you were but a meek lamb in comparison.

But today was different, today you were seeing him, him who fit the previous description to a tee, and yet was so different from any man you had ever offered your services to.

And perhaps it was because it never felt like you were ever offering anything, ever since that first night, you had never given anything you hadn't wanted to.

The guards stopped as you arrived at his room and you felt a wave of excitement crawl up your spine the moment they opened the door, waiting for you to enter.

The armored men stepped aside to let you pass, the cobblestones on the ground sounding against your sandals as you made your way inside, looking back at the door just in time to see it being shut close.

It was his breathing you heard first, his heavy breathing coming from where you knew his bed sat on the room's left, and seconds after, the creaks of the wood as he stood up, his feet stalking your way.

You turned to him then, a smile almost making it to your lips as you saw him alive before you once again, granting yourself a second to relish in the fact he still breathed, he was still here.

"You've won again" you spoke softly, your hands slowly finding the string holding your dress together.

He didn't respond. The window behind him caused the moon's soft glow to fall on the stone floor, but not on his beautiful face, that, you had to watch closely to inspect.

A newer cut right above his left eyebrow had appeared, and his right arm was bandaged almost completely, but otherwise, he looked fine.

His eyes remained on yours until you'd undone the dress, until it fell at your feet- then, a low groan rumbled from his chest as he took you in, and took his turn inspecting every inch of your bare figure.

"How do you want m-"

You didn't have time to finish your sentence that he'd picked you up, effortlessly pulling your body up until your legs slung over his shoulders and his face was buried in your cunt.

He hadn't even given you a second to realize what was happening that his tongue was already lapping between your folds, desperately drinking everything your body gave him.

"Oh my g-" you threw your head back, your skull finding the wall behind you being the only reason you realized he'd moved, and you were now caged between him and stone as you forgot how to speak.

The moans you had faked so many times for so many clients were nothing like the ones your mouth was spilling now, these were higher, coarser, feral, and the way you were gripping his hair... there was no way that didn't hurt.

"Y-You only" a whine interrupted your words when you felt his tongue plunge into your hole, when he started fucking you with it just like he would with his cock "You only h-have me for an hour" you breathed, your thighs squeezing tighter around him contradicting the words you were about to speak "d-don't you want me to p-please you?"

His grip on your ass only tightened and his mouth halfheartedly parted from your core to answer you.

"You are"

And just like that, he'd gone back to work. The moment his mouth closed around your clit you knew you were done for, you knew there was no point in fighting what was inevitably going to come, and so you shut your eyes, as he brought you to heaven.

Your moans were getting higher and higher as your back arched to feed more of yourself to him, desperately craving the feel of his touch, of his nouse, of his beard against your thighs, of the lips he so devoutly was using to suck on your most sensitive spot.

"F-fuck- general I-" The fist you had wrapped around his hair tightened as every muscle in your belly did the same "Oh!"

Somehow, through all the chaos, while you were coming all over his face, while your moans reached levels never reached before, the only thing you could feel or hear, besides pure ecstasy of course, were his groans, his groans as he drank up every drop of your juices, as if your orgasm was bringing his as much pleasure as it was to you.

You barely had time to open your eyes that his strong, big hands and even stronger, bigger arms had pulled you down until your legs hugged his waist instead.

You really did weigh nothing for him, and if that wasn't enough to prove it, the next minutes definitely would.

Your heavy breathing was fanning over his mouth as he freed his cock from his pants, but while you were expecting him to kiss you, having been blatantly staring at your mouth since he had any way of seeing it, every thought in your brain turned to dust when with one hard fucking thrust, he drove his cock into you- or the first few inches at least.

You couldn't talk, you could do nothing but throw your head back as your eyes rolled to the back of it, and let him take whatever he wanted to take.

"I'm not a general anymore," he said with another thrust, stretching you out even further, even deeper.

You wanted to laugh at his words. Now? Now he was feeling the need to correct you? When you could barely breathe, let alone think?

But he didn't look interested in hearing a response from you, not when he grabbed your waist, and definitely not when he started moving you up and down on his shaft with just the sheer force of his muscles.

The moans, the lewd moans that crawled up your throat were filthy, even filthier than the sound of how wet, how unbelievably drenched you were as he plunged into you over and over, as he literally used you as a fucktoy, filling you up more and more, until he was finally sat inside you to the very hilt, until his pubic hairs were grazing your skin and the tip of his cock was touching your cervix.

"Oh my god" you whimpered, feeling tears prick your eyes as your toes curled at the feeling.

You could feel him everywhere, everywhere.

But he didn't pause, he wasn't one to take his time, and perhaps that was because he didn't have much; he resumed his movements again, retracting his hips while he pulled you up his cock, and slamming into you while pushing you down on it, leaving you breathless, a simple doll at his mercy.

His groans and growls were deep and filled with lust, just like the way he bent down to take your left tit into his mouth, just like the way he was fucking you, deep and hard, and God- God it was happening again.

"s-shit" you squeaked, your walls squeezing around him as you bit your lip, so fucked out you could barely remember your name or anything at all that wasn't how good he was making you feel.

"O-Oh my fuck-"

The arms you had intertwined behind his neck tightened with every spasm of your hole, with every flutter of your belly, until you'd come once more.

You opened your eyes, letting them trail downwards, to where his lips parted to suck in ragged breaths, begging him for a kiss.

"again" he said instead, and your eyes widened as you felt him starting to move anew

"I-I can't"

He looked at you now, really looked at you, his sweaty hair sticking to his forehead, his chest heaving as he breathed heavily, and then- then he kissed you. Marcus Acacius kissed you the same way he'd been fucking you for the last hour: like an animal.

It was a mess of teeth and tongues and yet it felt like the best thing on earth, better than wine, better than life, even better than the sex- it was perfect.

"again" he ordered once more, and what could you do, if not comply?

So he started again, he started fucking you again, even more ferociously than the previous time, even if you didn't think it possible.

The way his skin slapped with yours was drowned by both your desperate sounds, your legs started to tremble, beginning to fall from his hips as he moved you up and down his cock like it were nothing, and you- you didn't even know where you were anymore.

"please" you begged, a single tear of pleasure, of overstimulation falling to your cheek as he kissed you again, muting all your cries as he drove himself into you like a madman, like he was possessed.

"Time's up"

Two knocks sounded from the other side of the wall together with the warning, and you thanked Marcus for having rendered you such a mess because otherwise, that would have reminded you of how little time you two ever had, and how miserable everything really was.

His movements sped up at the notice, his dick plunging into you over and over and over until finally, it was happening again.

"give it to me" he said, and you did exactly as he asked- you gave it all to him, screaming and crying you let him have all you had to offer, feeling his eyes on you the whole time.

He came loudly just after you, groaning deeply as he filled you up to the very brim.

Out of all the words you could have said to him then, all the things you wanted to tell him at that moment, you chose none, because none would have said anything he didn't already know from the look in your eyes, from the same exact spark in your irises that ignited his own.

So he helped you to the ground until you stood on shaky legs, walked to where your dress lay on the floor, and dressed yourself again, his eyes never leaving you.

The door opened just as you were done, and you turned to him one last time again, a smile pulling at your lips.

"Win again for me, general"

He looked at you too for one last time again, as he thought about how you didn't know, you didn't know how big of a role you played in his victories, how many times he could only think of the taste of you, smell of you, feel and voice of you as he took his opponent's life, as he fought for another hour with you, another second.

"I will" he promised

[solarmorrigan]

For the angst prompt thing: Steddie and "Don't fucking touch me."

Hello! Thank you very much for sending a prompt, I'm sorry it took me so long to post, but I do think this one is my favorite out of all the fills I've done for this prompt list <3

[No warnings; Unnamed Freak (who apparently got a name in the most recent novel, but I didn't know that at the time) is named Oliver]

Angsty-ish Prompt List

-

“I’m gonna step outside for a minute,” Steve leans in to murmur in Eddie’s ear, even though the music isn’t that loud.

“Yeah, sounds good.” Eddie nods, and only just keeps himself from turning to catch Steve’s mouth in a kiss when he feels the brush of his lips against his ear; it’s not his fault he’s developed some kind of Pavlovian association between having Steve’s mouth anywhere near his skin and receiving kisses – but they do have company.

Said company is just Gareth, Jeff, and Oliver, but still. Eddie has some decorum.

Steve stands from the couch and the arm he’d had slung around Eddie’s shoulders slides away slowly, his hand brushing warm and heavy over the back of Eddie’s neck, thumb stroking once, familiarly, along the side of his throat before disappearing entirely as Steve moves towards the front door. He doesn’t do so great with groups of people in small spaces anymore; the noise gets to him, and the heat generated by so many bodies in close proximity tends to give him a headache, so he takes breaks now and then, just to give his brain a few minutes to unbend.

The door swings open on silent hinges (Steve had attacked it with a can of WD-40 and a look of determination earlier today, insisting he couldn’t stand the squeaking anymore; he’s always doing things like that around the house – little repairs, organizing, picking things up, even though Eddie insists he doesn’t have to. He says he wants to, the endearing little weirdo) and Steve steps out into the cool evening, leaving Eddie and the boys behind in the warm light of the trailer’s main room.

“So,” Jeff says, looking up from his spot on the floor and gesturing vaguely at Eddie with his beer can, “how’s that going for you guys?”

Eddie blinks at him. “How’s what going?”

“The whole thing between you two,” Jeff clarifies, and Eddie raises a skeptical brow at him.

“You wanna talk about me and Steve having sex?” Eddie asks.

Jeff’s nose scrunches in distaste. “What? No.”

“Not ever,” Gareth jumps in.

“I mean…” Oliver says with a shrug, flinching when Gareth pelts him with a balled-up napkin.

“No,” Gareth reiterates.

“I refuse to apologize for simple curiosity,” Oliver sniffs, and Eddie, seated next to him on the couch, gives him a shove.

He’s glad his friends are accepting – supportive, even (he’d like to say he wouldn’t hang out with them if they weren’t, but let’s be real: nerds could be hard to come by in their neck of the woods, and as long as they were the quiet type of homophobic, Eddie would probably still play D&D with them. But he’s glad they’re not), but he does have some boundaries.

Like, one or two, maybe.

“I just meant the whole… dating thing,” Jeff says, taking a sip from his beer. “Because I’ll be honest, I really didn’t see it at first, but it actually seems to be working out.”

“Dating?” Eddie parrots blankly.

“Yeah. You guys are in, like, some kind of never-ending honeymoon phase or some shit,” Gareth says. “Hasn’t it been over two months?”

“Uhhh, no, I think you gentlemen are confused,” Eddie drawls. “Steve and I are not dating.”

This declaration is met with a moment of silence.

“Seriously?” Oliver finally says.

“Yep,” Eddie replies easily. “No relationship shit here. Strictly a friends-with-benefits-type deal.”

“Seriously,” Olver says again, flatly this time.

“Yes, Oliver, seriously,” Eddie huffs, reaching over to give him another shove, only to have his hand pushed away.

“Eddie, he was practically sitting in your lap just now,” Jeff says. “You two are all over each other.”

“Constantly,” Gareth adds.

Eddie shrugs. “It’s not like this is a big couch; we gotta squish. Anyway, Steve’s just a touchy kind of guy.”

“He doesn’t sit like that with any of us,” Gareth points out.

“Yeah, well, you guys aren’t the ones receiving benefits,” Eddie says. “You want him to sit on your lap? You could ask.”

Gareth lets his head hang back with a noise of frustration. “That’s not the point, and you know it.”

“Don’t you two go on dates?” Jeff asks. “I’ve seen you at the movies. You talk about going out to eat, doing other shit…”

“Yeah, see, that’s the friends part of friends with benefits,” Eddie snarks. “Friends hang out sometimes, I’ve been told. We are all, in fact, hanging out right now, but that doesn’t mean I’m dating any of you.”

“You don’t see the way he looks at you?” Oliver asks, and Eddie can’t help but scoff.

He appreciates the fact that Oliver is passionate about pretty much anything he does, but it also means he’s given to romanticizing. He doesn’t usually manage to drag Jeff or Gareth in with him, though.

“Pretty sure he looks at me like a friend, because that’s what we are.” Eddie rolls his eyes before offering a smarmy little grin. “I mean, I’m sure he looks at me as an exceptionally attractive friend, but that’s it.”

“Genuinely can’t tell if you’re fucking with us, man,” Jeff says, rolling his eyes.

“Genuinely, I am not,” Eddie promises, taking the last viable swallow from his beer before getting up and heading for the kitchen, wiggling his empty can at the others with a raised eyebrow in question. Gareth raises his own near-empty can with a shrug and Eddie nods. “Look,” he says as he ducks towards the fridge, “Steve isn’t the kinda guy you have a relationship with, anyway, you know?”

Eddie doesn’t mean this in a negative way, just as a matter of fact. Steve just doesn’t seem to be a relationship kind of guy. Nancy had been something of an outlier, in how long she and Steve had lasted, and it had become clear after the dust from the Upside Down had settled that he really doesn’t have any interest in pursuing her further. Just the other day, he’d mentioned to Eddie how difficult relationships can be, and about how glad he is they have their thing together instead.

“Being with you is just… easy,” Steve had said; he hadn’t been looking at Eddie at the time, his face instead pillowed on Eddie’s chest, hair sticking to his naked skin where the sweat was still cooling from their last round, but Eddie could see the edge of a smile on his lips.

And Eddie doesn’t have much experience with relationships himself, but he knows that being friends with Steve is easy and that the sex feels equally easy and that the way he’d agreed with Steve and carded his fingers through his hair had sent Steve right to sleep with that same smile still in place.

Easy.

Now, Eddie shoves his head into the fridge and reaches for the beers that have somehow gotten pushed to the back. “It’s nothing major, okay?” he calls back towards the living room.

“Eddie…” Gareth calls back, an edge to his voice.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it.” Eddie waves vaguely, making sure to grab a second beer. “Anyway, Steve’s a good friend, and he’s really hot, and we’re just having fun.”

The bang of the front door against the frame startles Eddie so badly he nearly smacks his head on the underside of the freezer as he stands, a beer clutched in each hand like he might be able to use them as projectiles.

There is no threat, though – just Steve, who had apparently failed to catch the screen door before it had shut too quickly behind him. He doesn’t seem to have noticed; he’s just standing there, staring at Eddie, color rising high in his cheeks, eyes wide and shocked, like he’s just been slapped.

Concern wells up from Eddie’s gut, and he opens to his mouth to ask what’s wrong when Steve finally speaks.

“Yeah,” he croaks, “I’m not having fun.”

Eddie’s brows furrow in confusion, the beginnings of cold dread trickling into his veins well ahead of any conscious thought.

“I think I– I think I should go,” Steve says.

He grabs his keys from the side table by the door, where they’ve lived next to Eddie’s and Wayne’s for the last few months whenever he’s been at the house, and then he’s gone again, the screen door banging shut once more behind him.

And Eddie has no idea what just happened, but he knows it wasn’t good. He drops the beers on the counter and bolts out the door after Steve.

Steve is nearly to his car by the time Eddie scrambles down the front steps, and he’s paying absolutely no attention when Eddie calls after him.

“Steve,” Eddie tries again, stumbling to a stop right behind him as he jams his keys into the driver’s side lock. “Steve, for fuck’s sake, what–” he reaches out, wrapping one hand around Steve’s bicep, and Steve jerks out of his grip.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Steve snaps.

Eddie pulls his hand back, but doesn’t step away, entirely baffled by the sudden turn the evening has taken. “What the hell happened back there?”

Steve goes still, grip going lax on his keys. “I heard what you said, Eddie.”

“About – about what? Are you mad I was talking to them about us sleeping together? Because, Steve, they already knew,” Eddie insists, a little incredulous. “You said you were fine with them knowing! You were practically feeling me up in front of them!”

“I don’t give a shit if they know we’re having sex!” Steve hisses, finally whirling around to look at Eddie. “I meant the rest. About how I’m not the kind of guy you have a relationship with.”

Eddie’s stomach sinks. He hadn’t realized that was such a sensitive subject. “I – shit, I wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings, I just didn’t think you wanted–”

“About how we’re just having fun,” Steve cuts in, and if he’d sounded raw before, his voice is practically ground down to nothing now.

That brings Eddie up short. “…aren’t we?” he asks after a moment.

Steve says nothing.

“I mean, shit, Steve, it’s not like we’re in a relationship,” Eddie says, offering a little laugh, because even Steve would have to admit that the idea is a little silly.

Except.

Except Steve just glances away, staring at the ground beside Eddie’s feet, and – oh, shit.

“Oh, shit.”

Steve is still unnervingly silent, one arm curled around his middle while the other hand comes up to pinch briefly at the bridge of his nose. He still won’t look at Eddie.

“You… you thought we were,” Eddie says dumbly, and Steve shrugs.

“Can you blame me? We spend all our time together, Eddie. I’m here more than I’m at my own house, I think I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve slept in my own bed in the last month. We go out and do things together, I try to keep things nice around the house because I want Wayne to like me, we have, like, a lot of sex, and– we… I mean, we kiss and touch and just – do shit like that even when it doesn’t lead anywhere.” Steve shrugs helplessly, finally looking up. “I mean, Christ, Eddie, what did you think we were doing?”

“I thought we were friends!” Eddie insists. Steve throws him an incredulous look and Eddie amends, “With benefits!”

“Right.” Steve’s expression flattens back out, going cold and hard and unlike anything Eddie’s become used to from him. “Because I’m not the kind of guy you’d want to have a relationship with.”

“I said that because I thought you didn’t want to be in a relationship!” Eddie snaps. “It’s not like you stay with anyone for very long, so I just assumed you didn’t want to be with anyone.”

Some of the ice retreats from Steve’s face, leaving a watering kind of hurt in its stead. “Do you listen to me at all when I talk?”

“What? Of course I do!” Eddie might have gotten turned around in certain respects, but he will not have his merits as a friend called into question; of course he listens to Steve.

“Are you sure? Because I talk about you an awful lot. I talk about doing things with you, about doing things in the future with you,” Steve says pointedly, “about how I want to stay with you.”

And Eddie had wanted Steve to stay with him, too. He’s just been thinking – well, he’d thought it was because they get along so well, that Steve had wanted to stick around. That it had only made sense.

“We never talked about… being anything else,” Eddie says, the protest a little weak even to his own ears. “I’m pretty sure I’d remember that.”

Steve pulls a sharp breath in, pinching at the bridge of his nose again; he leaves his hand there this time, eyes scrunched shut. “Just a few days ago, I told you how much I liked being with you. How good and how easy it felt compared to anyone else I’ve ever been with,” he says, barely more than a rough whisper. “And you said…”

I like being with you, too.

Eddie had said that.

He’d meant that he likes being around Steve, likes being his friend, definitely likes having sex with him, but he’d said it while combing his fingers through Steve’s hair, while cuddled up with him in bed, and – okay, yes, he can see the mixed signals there. He can see where Steve might have gotten the idea that they didn’t have an arrangement, that they were just together.

“I– I didn’t mean–”

“Obviously,” Steve snaps, dropping his hand from his face and turning back towards his car.

Eddie tsks, frustrated, and reaches out to grab Steve’s wrist – not pulling, just trying to keep his attention.

“Don’t,” Steve warns him, pulling back from his grasp for a second time.

“I didn’t mean to lead you on,” Eddie tries desperately. “I really… I really didn’t.”

“Yeah. I can see that. But Eddie…” Steve is quiet for a moment, posture so tense and still that Eddie suspects he’s not even breathing. “I’m probably the best-qualified asshole around to tell you that you really have to fucking think about how what you’re doing affects the people around you.”

Somehow, that stings more than any screamed insult Steve could have thrown at him.

“Steve…”

“I’ll come get my shit out of your place tomorrow,” Steve says, low and sharp, before getting into his car and slamming the door behind him.

After that, Eddie has no choice but to step back or get run over, and he watches until Steve’s taillights are no longer visible.

He can hear the hissing of some whispered conversation just beyond the door as he trudges back up the front steps, but his friends fall conspicuously quiet the moment he steps inside.

“…hey,” Gareth finally ventures after several seconds of awkward, sticky silence.

“Hey,” Eddie says flatly.

“Do you… want us to stay?” Jeff asks.

Slowly, Eddie shakes his head. “I think I should… I need to– think about shit.”

The boys all nod, throwing him variously sympathetic glances and clapping him on the shoulder on their way out. Oliver pauses, as if he’s going to say something, but Gareth gives him a shove and gets him out the door before he has the chance. Probably for the best.

Eddie feels numb as he trudges back towards his room, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.

He flops down on his bed, face landing in a pillow that smells entirely too much like Steve’s shampoo. Probably because it’s on the side of the bed that Steve always takes. Next to the nightstand with the small stack of sports magazines that definitely aren’t Eddie’s. And the spare pair of glasses that also isn’t Eddie’s.

With a low tug in his gut, Eddie realizes how much of Steve’s stuff has crept into his room, into the trailer, into his life – how much Steve has become a part of his life, how much of Eddie’s day has been built around him, how much he’s come to lean on his presence, has come to want him there.

And Steve is going to take it all back sometime soon. Take all of his things away before he removes himself from Eddie’s life, too, because Eddie hadn’t been thinking and he hadn’t been careful and he hadn’t realized–

Eddie’s pretty sure he just broke up with Steve.

He’s also pretty sure he hadn’t wanted to.

His main consolation, as he curls up on his side, nose still buried in Steve’s pillow, is that as soon as Robin hears what happened (and she will hear, he has no doubt), she’ll probably come murder him.

At least he won’t have to wallow for long.

Part 2

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

It Was Only A Kiss

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: unprotected sex, hand job (kind of) cockwarming technically, creampie- this is relatively tame

Genre: smut, kinda fluff

Summary: Just another story of a very touch starved man

***

You take a deep breath and knock bravely on the door of your brooding neighbor's apartment. It takes a moment but eventually the door swings open and you're face to face, well more face to chest actually- he's much larger than you were prepared for- with your mysterious across the hall neighbor.

"Can I help you?" He asks flatly.

"Hi. You're Logan, right?" You ask and his eyes narrow at the question.

"Who the hell are you?"

"I'm y/n, I live- well above you actually." You point up towards your apartment.

"You live above me?" He quirks an eyebrow up.

"Correct." You nod.

"And how do you know my name?" He's still regarding you with a level of suspicion.

"We live in the same building I make a point to know as many of my neighbors as I can if there's an emergency and the cops show up asking me about the man that lives below me I wanna be able to at least say who the man that lives directly below me actually is."

"Cut the shit. I didn't tell you my name. So who did?" He asks. You glance down and watch his fist clench.

"Cool it hothead. I help out in the lobby sometimes, you learn a lot that way."

"So you're spying on me?" He glares.

"Are you always so paranoid?" You frown.

"Excuse me?"

"It's a simple question, I told you I help with stuff at the front sometimes you think I'm spying on you? That's a rather extreme assumption, can you reach those heights all on your own or do use a trampoline to help you jump to such wild conclusions?"

"You showed up at my door for reasons you still have not explained I have every right to be skeptical."

"A package of yours ended up at my door. I thought I'd bring it down for you but hey if you think I'm spying on you never mind I'll just keep it. Hope you got something fun in there!" You say, tapping the package tucked comfortably under your arm.

"Give me that!" Logan swipes at the box but you twist the box just out of reach.

"You have terrible manners, the least you could do is acknowledge you jumped the gun here."

"You know it's illegal to steal someone's mail." Logan crosses his arms.

"I'm not asking you to grovel just a simple 'my bad, thank you' would be sufficient. Plus I didn't steal this it was delievered to MY apartment."

"You're being pedantic." He rolls his eyes.

"And you're being difficult. You want your package? Try a little hospitality."

"You're a stranger unannounced at my door. I'm not hosting you."

"Now you're being pedantic. And a hypocrite." You shake your head. Logan tips his head back and sighs in exasperation. You have to restrain from smiling as you realize you've definitely wore him down.

"It is more than reasonable to be skeptical of a stranger knocking on your door with information you didn't tell them but your motives were altruistic, I misjudged. Thanks for bringing my package. Can I have it now?" Logan forces out. You flash him a smile and hand the package over.

"See how simple that was? Although I should come clean it wasn't purely altruistic. The package gave me the perfect excuse but I've been dying to meet the brooding mystery man in apartment 632. Thank you mistaken delivery driver."

"Yeah we're done here." Logan says closing the door.

"I'll see you around Logan!" You call just before it's shut.

"What an odd woman." You hear through the cheap wood and you giggle as you return to your apartment. He's rugged looking, imposing, no wonder he's such a mystery to your neighbors. You're sure he scares them shitless. He'd probably scare you too under different circumstances.

"You did what?!" Henry blinks at you as you recount your interaction with Logan.

"Why are you looking at me like that? I had to get the guy his package." You say.

"You're insane, you know that?"

"Why? He's just some guy. He's- very attractive but he's just some guy." You shrug.

"Quick question darling do you- understand the concept of fear? Do you have any sort of survival instincts that tell you not to poke sleeping bears?"

"Nobody died." You scoff.

"I cannot believe you forced this man to apologize to you for being rude when he opened the door to a stranger!" Henry shakes his head.

"Well somebody ought to teach him some manners. His mom would be very disappointed in his habits." You shake your head.

"What does he sound like?" He rests his head on his hand.

"Oh now it's fine that I 'poked the sleeping bear'? I thought I was insane."

"You are but since you did it already might as well learn something from it. Now answer me what's he sound like?" Henry gently shakes you with his free hand. It seems he hasn't noticed the subject of your conversation walking up to the front door.

"Let's see if you get to hear it yourself." You say with a smile.

"What?" Henry follows your line of sight just as Logan pulls open the door to the lobby.

"Hi Logan!" You call out. He looks at you and rolls his eyes. "Don't be rude or next time I get one of your packages by mistake I'm just going to keep it!" You warn.

"Is this going to become a regular thing?" He asks gruffly as he waits for the elevator.

"You lose absolutely nothing by being kind to your neighbors."

"I gain absolutely nothing as well."

"There's no need to be such a grump Logan." You shake your head.

"There's no need to be such a nuisance Y/n."

"You remember my name." You smile.

"Goodbye." Logan huffs out stepping into the now open elevator.

"Now you know what he sounds like." You tell Henry.

"You are unbelievable."

"Yeah sure we've covered that already, moving on now, how can you hear that voice and not do everything to keep him talking?" You sigh.

"He sounds like he'd eat you." Henry says.

"Oh I wouldn't protest that."

"Not in the fun way you psycho I mean like he'd murder you." He shakes his head.

"Well that I'd have to argue against."

"I sure fucking HOPE you would!"

"God that man is fine, the things I would do to him."

"I've lost you haven't I?" Henry's exasperation with you is obvious in his tone.

"No! Of course not! Okay maybe a little bit but in my defense you're the one that brought up him eating me." You toss your hands up.

"I meant he sounds dangerous, like he'd kill somebody you're just unwell!"

"Two things can be true! He can be hot and dangerous- shout out to Kesha- people watch all kinds of movies and shows about criminals and villains!"

"Look just don't push your luck too far okay? Some people shouldn't be messed with and I would guess he falls into that category."

"Oh please we get along great!"

"I don't even know what to do with you at this point." Henry says, concerned confusion colors his expression, making you laugh a bit. Honestly you think he's freaked out over nothing. Logan's no more dangerous than any other man you don't know that well living in this building. You're not going to put yourself in harm's way but he's fun to sort of wind up.

You sing along to your speaker as you drag your couch across your apartment, in all the commotion you barely hear the fevered knocking at your door and almost trip over your table trying to answer it once you realize someone's here.

"Logan? What're you doing here?" You blink at him in surprise when you find Logan in your hallway.

"What the hell are you doing in there?" He asks.

"Moving around some furniture. Why?" You frown.

"Well stop it. Or get people to help you carry things because the sound of you dragging shit around is unbearable." He grits out.

"Are you going to help?"

"Excuse you?"

"My apartment is a wreck right now and I can't exactly just stop and wait for someone to be able to help me finish this up so unless you plan on helping me you'll have to suck it up and wait for me to be done." You say. He stares at you for a moment, his jaw tightening a moment before he lets out a harsh breath through his nose.

"Fine. What needs moving?" He grits out.

"You'll help?" You blink at him, you didn't expect him to offer that. You expected him to stomp off back to his place to brood or whatever he spends his time doing down there.

"At the very least it'll be quicker if I help."

"Alright, well, I need the couch against that wall first." You say. Logan walks over to your couch and before you can help him, he lifts the couch and moves it to where you asked him to.

"What next?" He turns to you, barely acknowledging the baffled look on your face.

"Uh the coffee table, needs to be put in front of the couch." You point, watching in awe as again Logan lifts the table like it's a down pillow and lowers it where you directed.

"What else?"

"Can you move the bookcase? I need it next to the television. I can take everything out of it first so it's-" he doesn't give you a chance to finish the sentence, he moves the entirely full bookcase from one side of your living room to the other with ease. You spend a little while longer dictating for Logan what needs to be moved where and no matter how many times he does it you're astounded by his displays of strength. It's like every piece of furniture in here weighs less than the average toddler to him, he's barely breaking a sweat by the time you've run out of tasks to watch him do because he truly doesn't need your help with any of it.

"Everything's where you want it to be?" He asks.

"Yes."

"So I won't hear any more insufferable scraping of furniture against the floor then?"

"You won't. Thank you for helping. I'll make you lunch." You suggest.

"Don't bother." He rolls his eyes.

"No no no all that work you just did for me I have to at least feed you."

"You don't." He shakes his head.

"Logan you moved like 20 pieces of furniture by yourself, let me pay you back." You insist.

"You pay me back by not scraping things against your floor slash my ceiling."

"Sit. Eat. Then you can leave." You say, wrapping a hand around his wrist to drag him into your kitchen to sit on a barstool at the counter.

"This isn't necessary y/n, really."

"Yes yes you've made that clear. I'm doing it anyway, so stop protesting. Do you have any allergies?" You look at him over your shoulder as you pull things out of your fridge.

"No." He scoffs as if it's a crazy thing to even ask, you won't bother asking why. It's a good thing you have no sense of portion control and always end up making more than one portion of anything you cook anyway. Logan doesn't say anything while you fix lunch and you're not sure how to break the silence so you don't. You cook, and hum, and let Logan sit and watch or daydream or whatever brooders do when they're not interacting with the world. Lunch takes just over 20 minutes and soon enough you're placing a plate in front of Logan.

"What is it?" He asks.

"It's a bufflo chicken sandwhich wrap thing."

"Sandwhich wrap thing?" He quirks an eyebrow up at you.

"Oh just eat it." You roll your eyes taking a bite of yours. Logan looks as if he's going to retort but seems to decide against it as he picks up the wrap and takes a bite. You watch intently as he processes the food, his eyes widen at some point while he's chewing.

"Oh wow this is good." He says eventually.

"Thank you." You smile at him as you take a seat next to him at your island counter. You and Logan eat pretty much in silence and it isn't until you drop the plates in the sink that he speaks again.

"You're a very odd woman you know." Logan says.

"So I've heard. My downstairs neighbor is very vocal about how strange he thinks I am." You wink at him.

"He might be onto something."

"Maybe. But I must be doing something correct because he still talks to me." You lean against the counter beside him.

"How much of choice does he have in that really?" He scoffs.

"Well you came up to mine today so- you tell me." You say softly, moving closer to him.

"I came up here because you were being disruptive." Logan says lowly.

"So you said." You hum. You're not quite sure who closed the gap between you but the next thing you know, your lips are pressed against his and his hands are around your waist pulling you towards him. You hands settle on his shoulders as his kiss practically devours you. You hear the sound of metal against metal that you're fully prepared to ignore but it seems to snap Logan out of things as he practically leaps away from you.

"I- I have to go." Logan says abruptly. You notice him clenching and unclenching his fists as he looks at his hands.

"Hang on a second what- what just happened?"

"Doesn't matter it won't happen again." He says before leaving your apartment.

"Logan!" You call but you're sure he's already at the elevator at this point. "And he calls me the odd one." You sigh. Part of you wants to go after him but why should you? He's probably not going to answer you if you go down to his place now anyway. You'll let him cool down from whatever that was and deal with it later.

A few weeks go by without incident. If you didn't know any better you'd think Logan was intentionally avoiding you, but he hardly leaves his place anyway so it's not like anything has really changed. However today one of his packages has ended up at your door again. Weird. You wonder briefly if Henry has anything to do with this but it's not really his style. Regardless of how it got there, you have to take it down to him now. So you get in the elevator and go one floor down to Logan's apartment knocking on the door firmly. You hear some shuffling on the other side and eventually Logan pulls the door open.

"What are you doing here?" He asks.

"Are you okay?" You tilt your head. He looks a little flustered for some reason.

"Don't answer my question with another question."

"Technically, I'm not answering your question I'm just asking a separate one you look flustered and I wanna know if you're okay."

"I'm fine, y/n. Why are you here?" He says sharply.

"Don't be a dick."

"Excuse me?" He blinks at you.

"I got a package adressed to you again and I'm being nice by bringing it down to you. Look I didn't realize you'd be so up in arms over a kiss, sorry it bugged you so much, but you don't just get to be an asshole whenever you see me."

"I'm not-"

"Whatever your problem is, why ever you ran out of my partment like I burned you, I didn't kiss myself so don't take it out on me like it's all my fault."

"I didn't say it was your fault."

"Here. I'll try not to get any more of your mail." You shove the package into his chest and he scrambles to get it before it drops.

"Y/n hang on-" Logan grabs your wrist before you can even turn to leave.

"I'd rather not do this I just wanted to bring your... thing."

"No I owe you an explanation. Come inside, please." He says.

"Fine." You say entering Logan's apartment. It's pretty minimalist. All the basic furniture you'd expect in a living room plus a bookcase that's about half full of stuff and a trunk in one corner. Logan tosses the package onto the trunk and clenches his fists. You gasp and jump back as metal claws protrude from Logan's knuckles. "You have knives coming out of your knuckles."

"Kind of."

"Why are you showing me them?" You frown.

"This is why I ran out like you burned me, as you put it."

"I need more information."

"These are- obviously dangerous and I usually have incredible control but- while we were in your apartment that day I- they came out without me doing it. It's been a long time since I couldn't control them but something about you- it's risky." He says, brows furrowed.

"We kissed and your claws popped out like an erection?"

"Don't phrase it like that."

"I'm just trying to understand. Are you implying that kissing makes you like lose control of yourself?"

"No. Maybe. It's hard to know I-" you cut Logan off by kissing him. Easiest way to confirm the theory is to test it. His hands are on your waist right away and moments later the sound of metal sliding against metal grabs your attention.

"Well- I'd say that answers that." You say.

"You can't do that." He says.

"You didn't stop me." You shrug.

"I could hurt you, you know. I can't- there's no-"

"You could sure but I don't think that you will." You say.

"You shouldn't have such faith in me." Logan shakes his head.

"Why not?"

"I am... in pain trying to keep it together here."

"Don't bother." You say kissing him again. His hands on your hips tighten, and he's doing what he did last time, kissing you so ferociously you feel as if he's going to consume you whole. Eventually, he pulls away with a groan.

"You need to go. Please." He grits out.

"You'll have to let me go first." You say, he's still holding your waist rather tightly.

"I know that." Logan says but he makes no move to do so.

"Logan, stop trying to be such a gentleman. I'm not a china doll, you won't break me." You say pushing him onto his couch and straddling him.

"Wait y/n-"

"If you tell me one more time that you're going to hurt me so we can't keep making out I'm going to throw a fit." You roll your eyes.

"No it's not that I- this is much more embarrassing than that." He mutters.

"Embarrassing?"

"I'm too... high strung, if this continues I- I'll end up looking like an inexperienced teenager."

"Don't worry I know you're not an inexperienced teenager." You hum kissing his neck.

"Y/n-"

"Logan." You drawl. Logan closes his eyes and blows out a heavy breath that makes you giggle.

"You're trying to kill me, I'm sure." He says.

"Not at all. Necrophilla isn't my thing." You shrug and Logan chuckles. Finally a break in his unnecessarily serious disposition.

"You're impossible."

"Well yes, you've said that before I'm pretty sure. Look if you really want this to stop Logan I'll leave." You make a move to get off of his lap and Logan's hand on your hip stops you.

"Don't."

"Still concerned about your... percieved overexcitement?"

"Just kiss me." He rolls his eyes using his other hand to pull you in for another kiss. You let your hands trail down his body slipping under his shirt to feel the hard muscle underneath. Clothing comes off hastily as you switch between kissing his lips and covering his throat in hickeys. Logan's hands are roaming wildly across your body, gripping here and grabbing there, his mouth exploring your skin with the same fierceness, nipping and sucking anywhere he can get. When your hand slips between your bodies and grabs his dick the sound he makes is pornographic and damn if you don't want to hear him make it again. Logan is all groans and harsh breaths as you move your hand against him. He doesn't let you get away with it for long, his hand quickly grabs your wrist.

"You sure you're not tryna kill me?"

"I told you I'm not into fucking dead people." You wink at him. "You can die when I'm done with you if you're that determined to do so."

"Well that's not the worst way to go." Logan chuckles.

"No but there's a lot more I could do if you stayed alive." You whisper, lining him up with your entrance and slowly sinking down onto him. You'd guessed he'd be big but your fantasies definitely were not doing him justice. His moan as you settle fully onto him is deep and long and makes you clench around him. Using his shoulders to brace yourself, you set a steady pace riding him. He's thick and you relish in the way he stretches you.

"Fuck you're so wet." He groans, head tipping back against the back of the couch. His hands are on your sides but his hold is loose, either to allow you control or because he's busy trying not to embarrass himself. You keep your rhythm, nails scraping against his skin as you chase your orgasm. Suddenly, Logan's grip tightens, tight enough that you feel there may be bruising tomorrow, like a beast suddenly woken from sleep he growls low in his throat as he takes over the situation. Without warning, he's fucking up into you furiously and all you can do is moan as you claw at his arms and chest. Logan's release hits him first but he doesn't stop, not until you're spasming around him.

"That was not the performance of an inexperienced teenager you know." You say after you've caught your breath.

"Oh shut up." He scoffs.

"I'm just saying." You shrug.

"You're insane."

"Ooo new adjective."

"That's all you got from that?" He asks. You sit up and smile at him.

"You can call me abnormal in whatever way you'd like you're still into me so it makes no difference to me." You say.

"Try not to move too much." He groans when you shift in his lap.

"Sorry, am I hurting you?" You ask.

"Quite the opposite, but I wanna give you time to recover from-"

"You're still treating me like a china doll." You poke his chest.

"You implying you're good to go again?"

"Refractory periods are way longer for men than women you know."

"I don't really have one so I try to remember other people do."

"I bet I could tire you out first."

"That's a bet you're definitely gonna lose." He scoffs.

"Care to prove it?" You ask. Logan smirks at you.

"I hope you've got nothing planned for the next few days." He says as he carries you to his bedroom. "First things first I'm dying to find out if you taste as good as you smell." The promise of a thoroughly pleasurable experience is clear in his eye and you're only too thrilled to find out what he can really do.

***

[ronearoundblindly]

okey dokey, I've had *a day* and will use this glorious...🥴 idek which body part to reference 😮‍💨...and merge it with your previous ask about cooking or baking for Steve and giving him a nice, comforting, home cooked meal. And his response to that act of service and caring. Because this is me, I will obviously be starting with ::gasp:: an argument. Don't you love how predictable I am?!?!

To Tire Is Human

No warnings, uhhh, canon language (sh*t)? Written in drafts so no exact word count. It's not long (2k maybe, very much unedited)!

"The hustle? What does that even mean?" Steve gripes as he finishes up various chores around the property.

"It means I do the work."

Your boyfriend rips apart the wood log he was about to start chopping. "Do the work? Do the work? For nine hours? After leaving home early enough to be at work for an hour before the actual work starts? Then staying at least a half hour to clean?"

"Unless I also have to restock," you add quickly just to really turn the knife.

"You have got to be shitting me," he nearly snarls, eyes down toward the pile.

You don't blame him for not understanding. He's from an era where people worked to live, the point was the living. This...is not longer that era, and you are not of that generation.

Of course, it frustrates him, too, because your work makes living almost impossible. With all that he just mentioned, the commute, and attempting to offer yourself the basic self-care of eating and washing, you don't have the energy to do chores, and you've certainly struggled to find energy enough to show Steve love.

"That's the gig nowadays. That's how us super-average humans do it."

The thing is that you are also so tired of having this conversation. You are tired of the guilt for not magically considering yourself the center of your universe because, despite jokes about every kid receiving participation trophies, it is deeply engrained in you that you are replaceable.

If you don't perform above and beyond, fired. If you ask for too much and offer too little, gone. If you don't constantly learn how to outpace others, useless. It never ends.

And, finally, Steve Rogers might not get this but you age. You aren't powerful to begin with, but day after day, you get weaker and older, while someone else on Earth gets smarter and stronger.

You don't want to hear the spiel. You can see from his pinched face that Steve wants to give the spiel.

You sigh in exhaustion and prepare to hear the whole Cap speech before you two go pick up dinner in town.

One day later that week, your work schedule falls apart and lands you back at home hours before Steve is due to return. Antsy to accomplish something--and looking for a snack,--you notice the perfect combination of ingredients, something saucy and salty, hearty, just like Steve melts for, and a fruity baked good.

It's a lot of steps, there's a lot of mess to clean up as you go, and then there's still a lot left behind. You're hastily rushing around to set the oven timer and yank a skillet off the burner. Perhaps the whole endeavor has gotten you in over your head.

Steve appears out of nowhere.

Well. Not nowhere, but all the chaos in the kitchen is making enough noise, you didn't hear the door.

"I have everything under control," you automatically say.

His expression morphs from one of surprise and concern to utterly overwhelmed. His eyes look glassy as he approaches and scoops you into a quick hug, hands tucking themselves beneath the hem of your shirt so he can feel your skin as he breathes you in.

He quickly releases you at the sounds of oil popping and sniffs, reverting to Cap mode.

"What do you need? What can I do?"

All you can think is that the table hasn't been set.

Steve eats his whole meal--entree and dessert--with his non-dominant hand just so he can hold yours.

He had one of your days.

He spent the drive home listing all the things he needed to do in his head, more energy for each tick, more time for sitting still, more of him to give...

...and then he got to enjoy a lovely dinner with you.

You spent your energy on him, on you both. You spent energy specifically to spend time with him, and Steve could cry but he won't. He keeps smiling, making happy, pleased noises with each delicious bite.

An hour ago, he wasn't sure he could feed himself or wash up. He's simply too tired.

You start playing with his hand, drawing patterns in his palm, lightly dragging your nails on the sensitive inside of his wrist. It makes him shiver.

There were at least four things he was supposed to do outside before it got too dark, a load of towels and sheets needs done, a basket of clothes waits to be folded and put away. He does not want to do any of it.

His fingers close around yours.

"Thank you," he interjects softly, "I was so tired."

You lean forward and plant a sweet kiss on his cheek, whispering in his ear, "you wanna leave the dishes to soak and watch a movie instead?"

Steve chuckles, turns his head to quickly kiss your lips, and nuzzles his nose to yours.

"Oh, you're a naughty minx, aren't you?"

Playfully racing up the stairs, ignoring the plates and glasses still on the table, you call back to him.

"Show some hustle, big guy! We got a whole lot of nothing to do."

He twitches, just for an instant, before finally deciding that grabbing the spare pillows from the guest room will add more to the movie experience than doing the dishes.

You're both going to do the work tonight: the work of taking care of each other, enjoying each other, and being human together.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Blurbs: Drive My Car

————————————————————————-

Summary: You still haven't learned your lesson… and are back with a Joe prank! Now it's calling your poor husband to tell him about your discovery of “Christmas gas”.

Warnings: Fluff, slight illusion to smut

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine universe: Into The Mystic

————————————————————————-

December 12th, 2023

I still don't know how Joe isn't tired of me and my tricks yet. After all of the pranks I've pulled on him I just keep finding more.

Bored in bed since Joe was gone, I found a prank I could do on him over the phone and immediately got down to business.

He was at his parent's house helping his mom build a new dresser like the amazing son he is while I stayed at home with Tyson and Miles. They weren't awake yet so I could put Joe on speaker while recording with his iPad.

After making my hair look decent I pulled Joe’s contact up and called him.

In usual amazing husband fashion, he answered in less than two rings.

“Hey Joey.” - you

“Hey, Mama. What's up? Do I need to step outside for this.” - Joe

Even though I loved Robin with my whole heart, I really didn't want her to think I was a ditz who thought diesel was “Christmas gas”.

“Uhm, yes.” - you

“Okay gimme a sec.” - Joe

A few moments later you could hear the back sliding door shut and Joe told you to keep going.

“Okay so the other day I saw this TikTok about this thing called Christmas gas and I wanted to try it. So I did. Now my car barely even got home and it was making a weird sound.” - you

“Baby… what? What the fuck is Christmas gas and where did you get it?” - Joe

“The gas station we always go to! It's just gas that's supposed to smell like pine wood for the holidays.” - you

I had to mute myself because I was dying laughing. Joe sighed and groaned out of pure annoyance before clearing his throat to speak.

“You actually put it in your car?” - Joe

“Mhm. Should I have not of?” - you

“I don't know, y/n! I've never heard of damn Santa gas or whatever the hell!” - Joe

“Christmas gas! It’s a limited edition!” - you

“Limited edition… baby why would they have limited edition gas?” - Joe

“I don't know. It was like three more dollars a gallon though and didn't even smell like pine wood.” - you

“Oh my god. y/n, was it coming from the green nozzle?” - Joe

“Yes! You have heard of it!” - you

“y/n, that's diesel babe! Did you put diesel in your car?” - Joe

“No, I put the Christmas gas in.” - you

“The green nozzle is diesel, y/n. That's why it was 3 more dollars than the regular gas, and why your car isn't working, because you put diesel in your gas car!” - Joe

“Are you sure? The gas station was decorated for Christmas and the green pump even had lights on it.” - you

“Yes, I'm sure! I'm gonna have to call the mechanic and take your car in when I get home later. Hopefully, your engine isn't ruined.” - Joe

“Is my car going to be ruined, Joey?” - you

“I don't know baby. You have to stop doing those stupid TikTok trends, y/n.” - Joe

“I’m sorry Joe. If my car’s ruined don't feel like you have to get it fixed.” - you

“That's BS. Imma get your damn car fixed. Just promise you won't do stuff like that till you run it by me because it might be a scam.” - Joe

“Okay, baby. I love you.” - you

“I love you too, just don't use your car till I get home. If you need to go somewhere before I do just take one of mine.” - Joe

“Thank you, just one more thing to tell you before you go.” - you

“Please tell me you didn't get your oil changed with reindeer piss.” - Joe

I busted out laughing and Joe giggled along with me, proud of how he was quick enough to make a funny joke.

“No! But… this was a prank.” - you

“Oh my god y/n! So your car is fine?” - Joe

“Yes. I haven't even left the house… or even the bed yet today.” - you

“Shit babe, you had me worried for a minute. Well, I'm gonna go. I love you.” - Joe

“I love you too! Kinda sad I won't get to see you play sexy mechanic though.” - you

“Pregnancy hormones?” - Joe chuckled

“They’re through the roof.” - you giggled

“I’ll help when I get home.” - Joe

I could practically hear his smirk in his lust-laced promise.

“Bye, Joey.” - you

“Bye, Mama. Don’t be buyin’ any gasoline from elves ya hear?” - Joe

“Yes, sir.” - you laughed and Joe hung up

That gorgeous man is a saint for putting up with me.

————————————————————————-

Authors note: this is my favorite thing ever?! Saw this request in my inbox and IMMEDIATELY started writing.

Request for this fic;

[inkskinned]

here's the good news: you don't know what else you still have to learn about this world.

i've been here for almost three decades. i know a lot of things. i know a lot about nature. it can tell you lots of facts about flowers and trees and creatures. i am lucky to say i have spent a large portion of my life wandering around outside.

i didn't know the fog lifts until today. i thought it was just a saying; like how we say rain "peters out", or that "dawn breaks".

goblin and i were walking in a place called pine alley. these red pines all are old wood; they stretch high up. the path is wide and beautiful. the fog was snuggled against the ground in a warm fur. i was on a call with my brother, talking about a funeral.

i've been jaded recently. certain personal things have been going very badly. i'm stressed beyond the breaking point, because i hit the breaking point about 2 months ago and had to keep going. i recently ran out of room on my to-do list for a single day - and i wasn't even breaking down my tasks neatly.

but the fog lifted.

i'd never seen it do that. i didn't know it could happen so quickly. the curtain, slipping upwards, returning to the sky. my brother kept talking on the other end of the line. i had to interrupt him. holy shit, i said. fog actually lifts.

i've been living in foggy locations my whole life. i love fog. i love the gentle quiet peace that comes with it.

and here, in the trees beside a meadow, i felt the universe wink at me. see, it said, there's things even you keep learning.

[handsomeamoeba]

WRONG.

Try again.

Actually let's get into this. As someone who loves a great many fantasy RPGs including BG3, Skyrim, and Dragon Age, let me explain what BG3 gets that Skyrim misses, in my opinion.

And this is the big one: the characters in BG3 feel like real fucking people. They have backstories, demonstrable feelings about the events and the other characters, they react to the things you do and they develop as people as you further your relationships. Even minor NPCs often feel fleshed out with distinct personalities and opinions. Hell, going out of my way to cast Speak to Animals is usually rewarded with at least one charming remark. I have never given even a little bit of a shit about 99% of Bethesda NPCs. I usually choose to travel without a companion rather than with unless I need a pack mule to carry my stuff, because their primary function seems to be to get in my way, set off traps, or attract aggro. I can't remember most characters' names unless I'm actively playing. I'm more likely to casually murder people in Skyrim than I am in BG3 or DA because Bethesda hasn't really made any of their NPCs feel like real people, and consequentially I feel no guilt. By comparison I tried to do an evil run of DA:O and gave up the instant I had to kill Wynne (the grandmotherly spirit healer) when she refused to let me go through with my plans, because I hated doing it. Lydia will watch me gut an innocent man and do NOTHING because she has no life, existence, or personality outside of me, the player. This extends to romances, obviously. While optional in all the games, most people will pursue a romance path in BG3 or DA for the additional character arcs it brings to the characters, the emotional nuances they unlock. In Skyrim romance is a box you tick of tasks to complete. In fact, once you marry them, most marriage candidates personalities change *completely* because all spouses have the same few stock dialog lines. That is, if they had a personality to begin with (again, see Lydia). You know how everyone wants to romance unromanceable characters in Bethesda games? Like Brynjolf in Skyrim, or Nick Valentine in FO4? It's because Bethesda actually bothered to give them stories and opinions.

Honestly, this extends to the player character themselves. To a certain extent every player character is a blank slate, but in BG3 and DA it at least feels possible to develop a feeling about who that character is and what they would or would not say or do. I've tried to do that with the Dragonborn and rarely feel strong feelings about them or have strong opinions about what kind of person they are. The only one I've made who I have much of an idea about is my wood elf Parafina, who is Chaotic Evil. Which again is an option I only pick because no one in Skyrim feels real.

The stakes also feel more real in BG3, more personal. Obviously there's the central quest involving the tadpoles, but more than that, it is about a credible threat to your world and the people and communities in it and the people you love. There are tons of reasons to invest yourself emotionally in the narrative. I have never, ever completed the main storyline in Skyrim nor picked a side in Skyrim's civil war. Why would it? Basically nothing happens if I choose not to. Furthermore, if you're not playing as a Nord (which I usually don't), why would you care about Skyrim as a place? You are a faceless, voiceless (pun intended) outsider who gets microaggressed at every turn being asked to choose between two different flavors of fascist. Also dragons are back but like... listen, I don't care? They get pretty easy to pick off at a certain point, it's like swatting flies, they're just a nuisance on the way to my daily errands. And isn't that such a common story? Don't you know so many people who don't really bother with the main storylines of Skyrim? Yeah it's one of the bestselling games of all time but I feel like the fact that most people don't really care about its narrative should be a sign of failure. We all know it's mostly maintained its popularity due to the modding community.

Ultimately both games have rich worlds which reward exploration with little secrets and environmental storytelling. But BG3 feels more "meaningful" because they give me reasons to care about what happens. The writers worked hard to give the game emotional resonance. So I come to the two games for different experiences. I go to BG3 to engage with an interesting story. I go to Skyrim for the quick serotonin hit of completing tasks and hoarding items.

[lovelytsunoda]

gonna have a good time tonight // lance stroll

part of the welcome to wherever you are verse

summary: it’s time for lance and y/n’s annual canada day party. as an australian, y/n never really got the hype, but any excuse to get her old men in a room with lances old men was bound to create chaos

pairing: lance stroll x hutchence! reader

authors note: just in case anybody missed it, I added to the masterlist with a masterpost of some links to learn more about the real life lore behind the series

y/n.hutchence just posted to her private story!

y/n.hutchence just posted!

lake muskoka, ontario, canada

tagged: lancestroll, yourbestie, aprilrosepengilly

liked by yourbestie, yourmom, kirkpengilly and 203 others

y.nhutchence boys will be like ‘I know a place’ and then whisk you away to their cabin the woods

see all comments

yourbestie yeah but he gets a pass because HAVE YOU SEEN THE CABIN? i love your sugar husband. tell him thank you for the awesome weekend!

-> y.n/hutchence sugar husband?

-> yourbestie sugar daddy just sounded wrong

lancestroll ❤️

(liked by y/n.hutchence)

garrygarybeers for all the shit you talked about kirk's tacky shirt collection when you were growing up, you married someone with a collection much much worse

-> y.n/hutchence garry no collection is as bad as kirks

chloestroll gotta live it up before the old men get here!

-> timfarriss the next person to call me old is getting drop kicked to new zealand

-> fernandoalonso agreed. i'll help

kirkpengilly the real question is who won at poker? i taught you both so well

-> aprilrosepengilly neither. we were practicing to beat you

-> y.n/hutchence with both of us together, we should be unstoppable

-> kirkpengilly why is everybody ganging up on me today?

lailahasanovic thanks for the invitation! i'm having such a great time with you guys

y.n/hutchence posted to her private story! (and texted tim)

(The text messages got away from me here, tap to read and enlarge 😭 )

y.n/hutchence posted to her story!

seen by chloestroll, yourbestie, yourmom and others

lancestroll why is it that y'all are making fun of our margaritaville performance but fernando and paul are getting no flack at all for ruining the human league?

y/n.hutchence because fernando and my stepdad can actually hold a tune? oh and the fact that paul was SOBER

y/n.hutchence do you want me to bring you a hangover cure smoothie?

lancestroll ...yes please

lancestroll just posted!

lake muskoka, ontario, canada

tagged: y.n/hutchence, mickschumacher, aprilrosepengilly, scottyjames, chloestroll, estebanocon, lailahasanovic

lancestroll great weekend, greater people

see all comments

y.n/hutchence cinnamon rolls on the campfire was the best idea i've ever had

-> lancestroll the strangest, but one of the best

garrygarybeers notice how the old folk haven't been tagged in the campfire picture?

-> lancestroll its because you made fun of my tacky shirt collection

user jfc how big is this lake house?

user don't be shy, leak the karaoke video

-> scottyjames there are half a dozen old men who would be very cross with me if i did that . . . so no

aprilrosepengilly i'm going to miss that view so much

-> y/n.hutchence agreed

mickschumacher killer weekend bro. same time next year?

-> lancestroll of course!!

user the way she holds him in the boat.. they're so in love nobody speak to me

-> fernandoalonso trust me theyre worse in person

-> user KING NANDO REPLIED

jonfarriss we’ll always have margaritaville

-> andrewfarriss that’s no joke mate, my head is still killing me

-> lancestroll ditto. I’m still washing the smell of tequila out of my clothes

kirkpengilly added to his story!

(next part)

[teaboot]

True facts about my home town that I think about sometimes:

Nobody knows how big it is or what the borders are. There is some general consensus on what buildings are inside the town and which buildings are outside the town, as well as which buildings are definitely a different town entirely, but there is no clear "You are now in" or "You are now leaving" type locations you can point to on a map.

Tangentially, there are people one or two towns over, less than a 45 minute drive away, who will regularly ask "where is that?" Or, "I've never heard of that place" when you mention the town by name.

There are so few people that it is technically classified as a Village.

For many years, our only gas station did not sell gas. Once it began selling gas, I remember that they had to patch up the giant hole in a nearby billboard and use it to declare, "We Have Gas!", which was hilarious.

The whole place is mostly just woods.

There is some disagreement among locals as to whether or not there are wolves in the area. That being said, I have absolutely seen wolves in the area.

There is a public transit system that passes through. That said, it only stops by three times a day, and there are no set stops, so you kind of just have to pick a spot on the side of the road and hope for the best. If you are already on board and want off, you have to ring the bell and tell the bus driver where to pull over, which they may or may not do depending on the driver, the weather, traffic conditions, and general vibes.

I had three neighbors and I didn't even see any of them until about fifteen years in. One property across the road was a farm where I never saw anyone outside, but cars and equipment would move places throughout the day.

There is a post office. The woman who operates it is generally regarded as either incompetent or genuinely malicious, as she will often send mail back where it came from  with the justification that she doesn't believe your address is real.

The nearest actual city, with schools and a library and a hospital, famously has absolute dog shit cell service to the point that it is locally famous for it.

My childhood home specifically had a reputation for being a bad traffic spot despite being along a strip of straight road with no turns, and we regularly had to patch up holes in the fence from cars going through it. Most notable was one crash that woke me up as a child on Christmas morning, which I received a lovely thank-you card for noticing after I fetched my parents to assist.

Another time when I was a kid I went outside to find a car with the rear wheels in the air, nose-first in a ditch. I was home alone, so I went inside to call 911 on the landline, where I was immediately put on hold.

Someone stole our church and kept it for several years before inexplicably bringing it back and leaving it behind town hall. Just lifted it off the foundation and trucked it away.

The whole place is just around 100 years old and if you go into the woods you can still find hundreds of humongous tree stumps with foot holds carved into them from when the first white people came in and started settling down.

Apparently an entire family was axe murdered here in like the 80's and nobody talks about it

[gayelderstourney]

OLD MAN YAOI BRACKET ROUND 1

Propaganda:

Bob Zanotto/Helmut Fullbear:

THEY LITERALLY MADE MR CRY THE FIRST TIME I PLAYED THE GAME. THEY LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH AND THEY FINALLY GET TO BE HAPPY TOGETHER. YOU DONT UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH THEY MEAN TO ME.

they are married in canon and are epic and amazing. they had sad canon events where bob thought helmut was dead for like 30 years or something but helmut WASN'T dead his brain was still alive and they are reunited in the game first by way of stealing an evil dictator's body and then later on they put helmut's brain in a ball as a temporary fix while they go out to find his body which has been frozen in ice. the game forces you to walk through bob's memory of saying his vows at their wedding ceremony and it's seriously some of the most romantic and heartwarming shit i've ever heard, especially "just when i thought i was turning to seed, you made me bloom again" like my god. i love them

they're gay and old as hell!!!! there's a level dedicated to their wedding!!!

Helmut is voiced by Jack Black and is currently a brain in a ball, and Bob knows him so well that the mental image of him in his drunken mind says things Bob KNOWS the real Helmut would never say. Also Helmut is temporarily in the body of a guy voiced by Elijah Wood-

Craig Cuttlefish/DJ Octavio:

well you see they used to be friends but were on opposite sides of the great turf war. cuttlefish gets a 14 year old to go stop octavios army. also they argue in splatoon 3 which is just part of the 100+ year divorce arc BUT AT THE FINAL BOSS IN THE JAPANESE VERSION THEY SHARE THE ICONIC LINE THAT CUES THE CALAMARI INKANTATION AND IN THE ENGLISH CUTTLEFISH TELLS OCTAVIO TO "HIT IT" AND START THE MUSIC AND MUSIC IS SO IMPORTANT TO THE SPLATOON UNIVERSE YAAAAA ik its grasping but its lovers to enemies

Literally I have seen so many people call this old man yaoi.

Old men divorce!!!

They're old men who made their divorce the problem of every young person in their lives <3. 100 years ago during the Great Turf War between inklings and octarians, Craig and Octavio were the chosen ambassadors of their respective species. They got along well, but unfortunately found themselves on opposite sides of the war. During one of the battles Craig shot Octavio in the heart. The inlkings won the war and the octarians were forced underground. For years afterward both men grew bitter towards each other, and eventually Octavio attacked the new Squidbeak Splatoon (a group of secret agents recruited by Craig). Octavio lost both times and got imprisoned in a giant snow globe (and Craig calls him cute). In the latest game Octavio got over his hatred for Inklings (Craig's species) and used his flying mech to help defeat the BBEG of the game. After the final fight, Craig said something to the effect of 'that old rascal turned out to be not so bad!'.

Alright ok hear me out! These two old men have fought in wars for their races against each other and have the craziest pathetic old man homoerotic tension ever. They like, went from at least respecting each other before the war and then they were forced to fight each other and then when Cuttlefish's side won, Octavio went underground like a pathetic lil wet cat and later on he kidnapped Cuttlefish because of game related reasons and both of them still have way too much homoerotic tension!!! And then Octavio gets owned and then in the second game Octavio decides that "Hey actually, lets kidnap Cuttlefish's granddaughter" and the old man isnt even there cause hes busy being a pathetic old man in the under-underground!!! And in the third game they go fron rival/enemies to reluctantly working together to save the world from actual extinction bc some durry bitch wants to cover it in fuzzy ooze and like, both of them have so much old man ship potential and just- theyre still pining for each other even after over a 100 years man,,,,

I personally headcanon Cap'n Cuttlefish as homophobic, but I see the ship a lot and think it's funny.

They’re both at least like 125 probably a bit older, they are so divorced, like peak lovers to enemies back to lovers, Cap’n Cuttlefish calls Octavio cute in Splatoon one immediately after you rescue him from Octavio kidnapping him? So dysfunctional, so gay, so old

They fought in the Great Turf War which was said to be over 100 years ago, Capn Cuttlefish was, well, a captain I believe (he had some sort of rank even if he wasn't a captain, like he led a battle that's singled out in the sunken scrolls of the first game). they act so divorced in the singleplayer mode like they cannot stop insulting each other specifically but octavio always comes back and like kidnaps or insults captain cuttlefish it's so. and when the great zapfish gets stolen in splatoon 3 captain cuttlefish is like "it's the octarians again i know it" like divorced behavior. also it wasn't this time and octavio gets super weird about it. maybe you should stop using children as props in your drama though.

my favorite war crime divorcees <3

They basically are friends to enemies to lovers. Both of them fought in a war that hurt DJ Octavio so bad he can’t become an inkling.

friends -> enemies -> lovers. what more is there to say

they are soooo divorced

they were so gay their breakup ended a war

Craig Cuttlefish got sucked dry by a bear

they got divorced but then they got remarried . they fuckinf hate eachother but they also make out sloppy style and i do not know how that works because neither of them have mouths in their swim form which they are both permanently stuck in. love wins but also loses at the same time with these fucking losers

they are sooo divorced omg. istg they were dating when they were younger and then war n shit happened and now theyre bitter exes who probably still make out sometimes. Makes it so much funnier that theyre old ass men (both over 100!) and Cuttlefish has grandkids

They were on opposite sides of a war and still fell in love

[verlaineszz]

hi!! Can you write a yandere ghost dazai x human fem reader fic?

A/N: of course!! (✦ ‿ ✦) I've been actually meaning to write a ghost dazai but a yandere? Oohhhhh sounds great! :D, thanks for submitting this lovely request of yours anon(≧▽≦)!

YOUR SILHOUETTE A PALE MIST, BURY ME IN YOUR KISS!

ᯓ ⁺₊ ๋࣭ ⭑♡— YANDERE! GHOST! Dazai X HUMAN FEM! Reader!

𓂃 ࣪˖ ཐིཋྀ SUMMARY: Nearby a forest, there was a 1862 Victorian Mansion that still had strong walls and doors that stood strong against winds and storms. But there was something weird about the home, the past owners of the home were either found dead or moved out for good after just a week.

It was rumoured that it was haunted by a vengeful spirit, but no one dared to banish it or call in a priest.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ☠︎︎— HORROR + ANGST + SUGGESTIVE(?) + FLUFF

A/N: FINALLY A NORMAL REQUEST!! anyway, this fanfic may be abit long but apologies since you never really specified your preference for the fic but I'll try!! :D i haven't written yandere in a year so let's see what i can do. （＾ω＾）

𓂃 ࣪˖ ༒︎— WARNINGS : Blood, Death, Suggestive (?) , cursing, SLIGHT(???) GORE

You were currently moving in the old 1862 Victorian Mansion that was rumored to be haunted, obviously it was sold pretty cheap through the online site and the decor of it was absolutely marvelous, which made you not even care if it was haunted or not.. It was so cheap and so beautiful that how could you not buy it?..

The boxes of your things are already in your home and all you have to do is to unpack. You started unpacking and moving things around.

During your little unpacking session, you were gonna walk up the stairs but notice that there was this portrait shape that was covered with a red cloth that wasn't shown in the pictures online, you put the boxes down and decided to remove the cloth. When you slowly slipped the red cloth off the big portrait, there showed a man wearing a white jabot, blue and gold coat and a soft smile. This made you take a step back and look up and down to analyze the painting, the painting of the ridiculously attractive man.. Weird as hell!

You scoff and turn around to continue unpacking your things, but the second you turned around, you felt a pair of eyes watching you. You ignored the feeling and continue unpacking.

While you were unpacking, dazai— the phantom of the house that is the original owner of the home was watching you, it was new to him.. A female unmarried tenant? This might be his best bet to scare the living shit of you, since he hasn't gotten a female tenant yet.

⁺‧₊˚ஓ༻𓆩♡𓆪༺ஓ˚₊‧⁺

The unpacking was done and you were visibly tired, immediately crashing on the red floral patterned couch that was in the living room. The whole place looked old but aesthetically pleasing. There was a fireplace, a grand piano, a grandfather clock, bookshelf and a coffee table with a wood vase of belledonna. You sigu and cross your legs, tilting your headback, this scene wasn't unnoticed by the ghost of dazai osamu. He was watching you with curious intent, he was sure that he'd have you dead or gone in no time since he never liked anybody living in his home. But since you were.. Really pretty.. Why not toy with you for a bit before placing your life in a casket?

During the first night, you were there on the bed in your new room, scrolling on your phone before looking at the time, it was 9:56 pm..you gotta take a shower before going to bed since you had work tomorrow. You stood up and removed your clothing before grabbing a robe and entering the bathroom, you turn the water on and began showering, as you showered, you still felt a creep run down your spine, as if you were being watched.

In dazai point of view, he was staring at your bare face, he smirked and checked you up and down.. Seeing your hips, thighs, waist.. And... He chuckled silently, seeing you showering without a clue that you were being watched, he quickly left and decided to give you some privacy.

After showering, you slid into a thin night gown before laying down on the canopy bed and scrolling on your phone, but as you laid down it felt strangely cold, the windows were closed so how could this be cold? You wondered before the bedside lights started ti flicker, but you quickly dismissed it as old house quirks— "must be some random Victorian magic or something.." you mutter before you continue scrolling on your phone, dazai continued to observe you in the shadows, sometimes moving places from time to time to look like shadows were moving which you unfortunately did not notice.

He pouted as he noticed that you didn't see the subtle appearances he did before planning of a way to get a reaction out of you.

You put down your phone and decided to sleep, it was now 10:23 and you really needed sleep. You stare at the canopy beds ceiling before slowly closing your eyes, your chest rising up and down slowly, a sight that dazai found warm. He stared at you with a grin as the moonlight through the window shined upon your body.

⁺‧₊˚ஓ༻𓆩♡𓆪༺ஓ˚₊‧+

When you woke up, you felt like a hand was playing with you hair.. You immediately sat up straight and looked around, feeling spooked before taking a deep breath and getting out of bed to get ready to go to work then meet up with your boyfriend.

Whem you left, dazai stayed there, thinking about how to scare you even more, so when you left, he rearranged some of the stuff in yours house, small mischievous giggles came out of his mouth while doing so.

A few hours later.. The second you arrive back home and bring in your boyfriend, dazais expression from afar turned im disgust, obviously he didn't like other men in his house, especially when the man was with you when he just got a pretty lady in his humble abode!

your boyfriend wasn't really the most supportive person in the world or nicest.. He was just there, you didn't even know how you and him managed to get together when the whole relationship only felt one sided.

"This place looks.. Err.. Old.. You like this shit?" your boyfriend asked with a unimpressed look.

This left dazai pissed since he wasn't only in his house and taking you away from him but he was also insulting your choice in houses..

You and your boyfriend walked up the stairs to your room for some alone time, he sat there on your bed in a reckless way, he just laid there like he owned the place. He scrolled on his phone as you sit beside him on the right side of the bed and hug his arm, your boyfriend clearly couldn't care less which made dazai grumble silently in the corner of darkness.

You and your boyfriend were.. "cuddling" on your bed as he scrolled on his phone, probably lookin at other women before dazai got fed up and whispered something in his left ear to scare him— "get out, you scum."

Your boyfriends eyes widens a little, looking at you with a pretty annoyed look, "did you just call me something?.." he looked at you, visibly pissed, pushing your arm away from him. "What?? I didn't?" you replied back with an innocent look, dazai watched the scene, not wanting to resort to something else to not scare you away from him, he looks at your innocent face, though he can see you, both of you amd your boyfriend couldn’t see him.

"yeah right." your boyfriend scoffed, moving you away from him before he continue scrolling back on his phone, dazai clearly picked up that your boyfriend did not get the memo.

A few minutes later, your boyfriend stands up, eyes glued to his phone— "im gonna go find the bathroom."

When he found the bathroom, he did his business and started to wash his hands, The bathroom had a bathtub with gold stands, a small chandelier, a mirror, a silver faucet and a white and gold marbled sink, on the sink was some soap and a razors. The lights started suddenly flickering, your boyfriend scoffed in Annoyance. "why the hell did that bitch buy such a shabby old house..?!" he muttered while washing his hands before met with a cold feeling behind him, he ignored the feeling but it was obviously lingering. His eyes were just on his hands as he washed and washed and washed, he kept coating his hands with soap as he continue rubbing violently, the lights started flickering more frantically. "fuck"

A whisper was heard from behind your boyfriends back, "off", your boyfriend gulps as he washed his hands more violently, he couldn't move. He couldn't look up. He didn't wanna look at the mirror infront of him to see what was behind. "scum."

Your boyfriends eyes widens as he started to shake, he felt a hand wrap around his throat tightly, he looked up and saw nothing behind him but he felt something wrapped around his neck that was choking him. He coughed and coughed but when he looked down back to the running water and his hands, his hands were bleeding. Most of his hands skin was torn off, he looked at what he was holding and it was the blades. He hasn't been washing his hands the whole time.. He was getting cut.

He immediately sprinted out the bathroom, leaving the water and light on. You heard the opening of door bang againts the wall, you stood up from your bed and looked outside your room, by the time you went ouside your room, you saw your boyfriend sprint out of your house. "Hey! Wait! Where are you going!!" you yelled with a concerned tone, but when you yelled it, he was already gone. Your eyebrows furrowed in disappointment, your shoulders slumped, not understanding why he just left all of the sudden.

Dazai on the other hand was overjoyed. He even turned the sink and lights off for you to not waste water and electricity. Ah.. Only if you knew what he did.. He just saved you from your little toxic relationship, he really wanted to hear your voice praise him.

The day after that, you tried texting your boyfriend to only be met with blocked profiles and one messags, "we're done."

⁺‧₊˚ஓ༻𓆩♡𓆪༺ஓ˚₊‧⁺

The haunting within your home escalates, multiple of your things was dissappearing or either misplaced somewhere.. There were nights where you'd be on your phone scrolling while comfortably laid down on your bed where you could hear whispers. It was either your name or threats— "Get out." - "[Your name], [Your name]"

It was a smooth deep voice that whispered subtly in your ear that gave you chills running down your spine, this honestly frightened you but you already paid full and moved all your stuff in so there was no way a little ghost or hallucination was gonna make you move out! Especially since this might've been the reasom why your son of a bitch boyfriend broke up with you, so.. why not keep the house?

The more you didn't budge through dazais antics, the more you pique dazais interest and attraction. You laid there on your bed, scrolling through your phone as you felt the vacant part of your bed get cold. You sigh— "does it always get cold whenever im not around?.." you mutter, still quite sad from the newly break up text before going back on your phone, suddenly one of your coats that was hung on the coat hanger on the side of room fell, you sigh in Annoyance and stood up, putting it back before you were met with a hand caressing your waist, "eek!" you squeeled before turning around to be met with.. Nothing.

You immediately ran back to your bed, hiding under the covers and forcing yourself to sleep, you stayed under the blankets, eye open and thinking about the situation. You're very sure now that it wasn't hallucinations and there really was something in your home, but the hand.. It felt human. It was cold but soft and gentle, not like the hands of your ex boyfriend.. You thought about more of the relationship between you and your boyfriend and realize that he never actually exchanged touches with you.. You were the one always handing it out but he never gave it back, this made your stomach hurl and you slowly slipped the blanket off of your upper body for air.. You stared at the canopy beds ceiling and tears left your eyes, "that bastard.." you mutter as you cried, you suddenly covered your face with your hands and groaned, turning to your side and cried in anger and sorrows.

The same gentle hands were on your waist, the hands that caressed you with deep devotion that you've never experienced before.. This is what you craved for.. You turn around and see nothing, you look around and you sit up, the room was dimly lit by the moonlight, casting a silvery glow over the old furniture. You wipe your tears before hearing a deep suave voice— "Don't cry now, bella.. Don't let tears stain your pretty face."

You feel your breath bunch up in your throat, "who are you?.." you mutter, trying to hide your fear.

"mm.. Nobody." dazai replies back, his voice was everywhere.. You couldn't tell where it was coming from.. If it was from left, right, front or from behind, the non visible hand on your waist slowly went down, giving a small squeeze to your hips before you woke up.

The sun was raised high as you looked at your window, you sit up and rub your eyes.. Was it all just a dream? Why did it felt so real? And why did you crave more of those little touches?..

The little touches that dazai gave you was subtle but full of devotion, he didn't even know that he would become so intrigued by you this quickly that he wanted to watch your every single move. He looked at you staring at nothing, perhaps you were in deep thought in his eyes..

He loved the way your lips would turn into a smile, he loved how your brows would furrow, he loved the way you breathed, the way you talked, the way you move, it was all fascinating to him.. He has been alone and lonely in the Victorian Mansion without any suitors..and you were visibly his type.

You started off you day with breakfast then taking a shower, you take off your clothes and looked at the mirror before hanging your towel, just when you were gonna turn around, you see a figure with brunette hair with their elbow on the sink edge and resting their face against their palm in a flash, you look back but nothing was there. You shrugged it off and continue to take a shower.

After showering and getting ready, you researched about the mansion and learned that there was an earl who used to own it but unfortunately died due to a murder, his name was dazai osamu, he was known to be popular amongst the ladies back in the 1860's before he died in 1872. You checked the pictures of him and it was exactly like the portrait by the stairs..

⁺‧₊˚ஓ༻𓆩♡𓆪༺ஓ˚₊‧⁺

Every single night became intimate, you always saw him in your dreams and you always felt like you were getting watched.. Which turned invasive, dazai just wanted every part of you.

Night after night, he always gave you touch without showing hisself, but you already knew what he looked like through the painting.. But what made you feel guilty was that you couldn't touch him back, though his touches were random at night, it still gave you chills.

You lay calmly on your bed, you stare at the canopy beds ceiling as the nonvisible hand moves the hair out of your face, this was weird.. And you knew you needed to end it some way somehow.

Dazais feelings of making you stray away or die were now completely gone, he just wanted you by his side. He wanted you to be his.

You move to your side and look up, only to be met with a young man with brunette hair, brown eyes and a gentle smile. Your eyes widens and you look at him, was this really him?.. He grins and he caresses your cheek, "Do you enjoy my company, bella?" he asked in a soft suave tone, your eyes quickly relaxes as you slightly blush— "i guess so."

RING! RING! RING! Aw.. It was your stupid alarm, you open your eyes and look to the side to be met with nothing.. This was the first time you genuinely saw his face up close in real life.. You sigh and get ready for your day to go back to work.

You get ready and go down the stairs, trying to find your keys.

Dazai on the other hand, was holding your keys, he didn't want you Going anywhere. You looked and looked and looked.. But to no avail, nothing. Your workplace was pretty far and since you were near the woods, little to no cabs were around so you decided to call in sick. You began undressing, removing your work clothes and slipping into something more comfortable...

Dazais plans were to stop you from leaving the house in every single possible way. Night falls dark and the moon had risen up, leaving a pale glow outside, you were currently trying to think of what houses would be possible to stay in to finally escape the ghost who played games with you but as you were thinking on your bed, you went on your laptop and you scrolled on homes that were available, while you were scrolling, the laptop immediately closed as a hand wrapped around your waist, feeling a cold aura behind you. "what were you looking at bella?" he rests his chin on your shoulder, you sat there frozen before turning to him and being met with his pretty face.. His pale skin and brunette hair was a criminal combination, his face was so close to yours as he hugged you tightly from behind.

"..." you couldn't muster up a sentence.. "You aren't thinking about leaving me.. Are you [Your name]?.." he looked at you with pretty eyes.

"i.. Was just looking at houses." you replied back with a half life half truth statement. Dazai clinged onto you, it felt oddly comforting.. "You know im just here to protect you, Right? I'll treat you waaay better than that little ex of yours, my dear." he whispered in your ear in a possesive tone, blush crept up to your cheeks as he held you tightly, you looked at him and his gaze fell onto your lips, he examined your pretty face, though he was dead, he felt oddly giddy because he gets to hold you while your pretty face was close to his.

"You'll stay with me, got it? You're mine and no one else's."

⁺‧₊˚ஓ༻𓆩♡𓆪༺ஓ˚₊‧⁺

Dazais desire to be with you turned insanely strong, so strong that be believed in something obsessive, every day he'd find ways to try and painlessly take your life without even realizing it, you already knew. You walked around the halls in your home knowing that at any second, the ghost who haunted you could come and just swoop you, you were confused why he wanted to kill you? You thought he loved you.. So why did he want to kill you?

You decided to confront him about it. As soon as it hit nightfall, you laid down on your bed and waited for his presence to immerge since his energy was stronger during night, as you feel his soft cold hands touch you waist, you grab his hand and turn to him, "What the hell have you been trying to do..!?" you ask in an angered confused tone.

He looks at you with slightly wide eyes before reverting back to normal, "oh whatever do you mean bella?" he tried to play it off.

"Why have you been trying to kill me!?"

"... I love you okay? I'm doing all of this for you." he said sternly, holding your hand softly and kissing peppering it with kisses.

Eventually the two of you broke out into a fight, though he tried to explain hisself, he really didn't wanna fight you. He just wanted you to understand that all he has done was for you. And he wanted for you to understand.

He gripping onto your waist, burying his face on the nape of your neck, his expression soft but disappointed..

"you really dont understand, don't you? I love you. And i'll do anything just to have you as mine."

His tone was low but it gave a hint of obsession.

"Please. Just dont go.. I- i can't keep being alone in this place. You're all i have." he muttered, his voice slightly whiny but full of sorrows as he held you tighter.

You felt awful, he loved you like no other and treated you better than anyone of your exes, though he was dead, he would love to kiss your lips again and again.

He held onto you tightly as you kept quiet, sighing before replying back— "If you keep this up, I'll move out. I'm serious."

Dazais eyes widens and the words that left your lips broke him since his body was buried under his house, his soul couldn't leave the mansion whatsoever, "Please! I can't lose you. Not now, not ever! Please! Give me a chance!" he gripped onto your clothing, "i love you more than my own existence, you're the only thing keeping me feel alive again and sane in this place, this place feels like an asylum! Don't.. Go." his voice cracked as he pleaded for you, tears was already beaded on his tear ducts, he didn't want you to go, he felt lost like some puppy, he just wanted you to stay with him, eternally.

He was so obsessed that he wanted to bind your soul with his so you could be his, together and forever in the afterlife.

A/N: originally, i was planning to make dazai kill reader but today i wanted to leave a cliffhanger. Thank you for reading and i really enjoyed this request!! :D I'll try to get into more yandere themes so i could do better in the future, thanks again anon for this lovely request of yours （＾ω＾）

© All works by @Verlaineszz. Do not copy, redistribute, or repost on other platforms.

[silent-stories]

𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐎𝐌

Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader

Summary: Eddie wants to introduce you to his mom, so you go to the graveyard with him.

Warnings: angst, fluff, death of a parent

It was late evening and the sky was starting to darken when you sat down on the ground, in front of the stone with Mrs. Munson's name engraved on it.

"Hi mom, this is Y/N," Eddie said as he crossed his legs and stared at the faded photo of the smiling woman on the tombstone "my girlfriend."

He had been wanting to take you there for some time, he said that since he knew your family he wanted you to get to "know" his too, only if you wanted too, of course.

"I've talked about her so many times before, I do it every time I come here actually, but I've never brought her here before." He added pulling his hands out of his jacket pockets and playing nervously with the rings on his fingers.

He kept talking without ever meeting your gaze as if he was afraid of what he might read in your eyes.

"She's here because she's really important to me and I wanted to introduce her to you too. Uncle Wayne has already said that she likes her a lot, they're basically best friends, sometimes I think she loves him more than me." He said the last part with a slight laugh but from his expression he didn't look amused.

"You two have a lot in common, you know?" He asked before pausing as if he was really waiting for an answer.

In return you only heard the rustling of the leaves of the trees caused by the wind.

"She's as kind as you were. She always lets me copy her homework even though I should probably start doing it myself if I wanna graduate. Sometimes she brings home-cooked food for me and Wayne, she and her mom make really good chocolate cakes, you would have liked them a lot." He explained, his voice low.

"Sometimes we cook together like I used to do with you. But Y/N and I always end up making a mess or fighting with flour. But it's fun, so we keep doing it even if we have to clean the trailer from top to bottom afterwards." A sad smile appeared on Eddie's face, probably remembering his days spent with his mother when she was with him.

"And she's as funny as you, she can make me smile with a simple joke even though my day has been shit and I just want to sleep for three days straight." He added and your heart squeezed in your chest.

"She's caring. That's another thing you both have in common. Once I didn't go to school because I had a fever and she missed an important test to come and check if I was okay. Actually I wasn't very okay, she had to keep my hair back as I threw up. I told her she could go anyway but she stayed with me until Wayne was back, at night. She stayed there all those hours, making me rest my head on her stomach and running her hands through my hair just like you used to do." At this point you just wanted to cry. You never thought that all those simple gestures that were part of your relationship with Eddie could mean so much to him.

You reached out to him and grabbed his hand which had started to shake slightly and definitely not from the temperature. He fliched at first, then hold it as if his life depended on it.

"She's also a good listener, she never judges when I talk about my problems and always listens when I talk about things I'm interested in . She says she likes to hear me talk about what I like, Dungeons & Dragons, the band and music in general, books. Once I even started reading the Hobbit aloud to her, but she fell asleep after half an hour with her head on my chest. I didn't get mad, she was too pretty. And I could never be mad at her, she makes me happy." If he was talking about being happy, then why did his voice sound so broken?

"When I'm with her I feel good, mom. It doesn't matter if I'm at school, in the trailer or on a bench in the woods, when I'm with her I feel at home. And it feels good. It feels great." He added as a tear rolled down his cheek.

"She's one of the best people I know." He breathed as you reached up to him and wiped it away with your thumb, slowly caressing his cheek.

"You would have loved her, mom." He said finally, before wrapping an arm around your waist and pushing you against him, resting his head on your shoulder and sniffling.

"It's okay." You said rubbing your hand on the fabric of the denim jacket covering his back.

"I love you." He whispered.

"I love you too. And I'm so sorry I didn't get to know your mom. If she was even half as amazing as you are, then she really must have been great." You said leaving a kiss on his forehead.

"She was." He murmured as his arms still held you.

Your lips brushed his temple leaving a light kiss there too, then you turned towards the tombstone.

"Mrs. Munson, I promise I will take good care of your boy."

[nopecho]

LI Book Headcanons

I've had this thought in my mind all day and NEED to get it out there.

(content warning: mentions of JK Rowling. Not to worry, it's bad mouthing her.)

Eden: his favourite damn series is Lord of the Rings. My man started with The Hobbit, then dived into Lotr. He's read EVERY. SINGLE. Elf song that the book has to offer. He's a fantasy nerd. However I would also see him read Pride and Prejudice. Perhaps some Terry Pratchett, too.

Avery: she grew up reading her parent's notes and bank account details. HOWEVER she's also read 50 Shades of Gray, and gave her the idea in mind that if she has enough money, she can acquire any lover she wants. REFUSES to acknowledge that it's Twilight fanfiction.

Kylar: speaking of Twilight, he is a FANATIC. adores the idea of being the misterious vampire, that attracts Bella in his unusual charm. He's read every book. And I mean every book, he's read the genderbent version, the Edward POV, anything written by Meyer he's read. He was neither team Jacob or Edward, he was team Kylar. Drew his self insert vampire oc with Bella NUMEROUS times.

Robin: he used to be a Potterhead. He was SO into it. Identified as a Hufflepuff, did the patronus and wand quizzes, his favourite book is the first one. He was in SHACKLES when JK Rowling came out as a gross terf. The level of betrayal he felt is indescribable. He woved to never touch the books again.

Sydney: do you know those books Christian oarents give to kids to let them know about Jesus early? Yeah, Sidney's read them. However, when she got freedom to grab her own books, she discovered that she DIGS Greek Mythology. She has a whole collection of Rick Riordan's books on the shelf, has attempted to draw her favourite characters. The movies don't exist to her and whenever anyone brings them up, she death stares them.

Alex: you know the Grimm fairy tales? Those are his favourites. Just the dark forest themes, the magic, the horror aspect of it... It just works for him. He's lived his whole life in the countryside, so he can fantasize about getting lost in the woods and finding a gingerbread house.

Whitney. I saved the best for last. So in hus childhood, in my headcanon he could never really afford to buy books, let alone his parents giving them to him. He read a bit of Dr Seuss but that was it. NOW that he can actually afford some stuff, he discovered the duality of man. Comics.

On one hand, he absolutely LOVES thise cute, kid friendly comics. Peanuts, Garfield, the Disney Mickey Mouse comics. On the other, he absolutely digs the over-the-top action manga shit. I'm talking Chainsaw Man, DevilMan by Go Nagai, Hells Angels by Shinichi Hiromoto. He doesn't have enough attention span to read a whole book, but he absolutely LOVES comics.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk!

[thelittlestoflives]

Thank You

soooo i sort of have a whole backstory to the Unravelling the Mystery fic and i just thought welllll i might as well post that too lol!! (i actually have lots of parts and stories)

again, very new to fic writing and i've thrown in some y/n lore in there too!! it's so vulnerable and scary to post stuff you've written (again i suck at proofreading so forgive pls)

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

sanji x strawhat!reader, or the story of how y/n became a strawhat and gravitated towards the chef

use of YN, afab reader

cw: stuff to do with horrible exes, forced eating of a devil fruit, being severely injured, slight angst to fluff but mostly fluff i think

wc: 2.7k

It was like a ritual. The breathing in the room evening out, slipping out from under the covers and creeping through the halls towards him. His arms were your salvation, every gentle kiss burning your skin with love, each touch so heavenly you could almost believe in a higher power.

You can barely remember how it began. It's like it's just always been this way.

But it wasn't.

Not when you were stuffed in that barrel, just you and the darkness and the splashing of the waves against the wood, the drip drip drip onto your already soaking clothes. You can't remember how you survived it, how you endured the minutes and the hours and the days you remained in there, physical wounds nowhere near the pain of the scarring on your soul.

And like words out of the holy texts, there was light. A piercing, bright light. But unlike the holy texts, soft mutters echoed in your ears.

"Shit. It's a girl."

"Dammit. So, it's not treasure?"

"She's injured."

"How long has she been in there?"

"Why does this always happen to us?"

“Get her out of there, for fuck’s sake! Why are you all just standing around?!”

Just like that, the light vanished and darkness returned.

When you came to you were in some sort of medical infirmary, the light streaming through the windows so intense that you could barely open your eyes. An assortment of smells hit your nose; disinfectant, bleach, salty sea air, and a bowl of rich chicken noodle soup that steamed as it sat on your bedside table.

Maybe that's when it started. The soup. You stared at it for god knows how long, tears streaming down your face at the act of kindness. The trauma of what you'd just been through vanished staring at that bowl, feeling the love of whoever made it poured into it. Your body had been wrapped in bandages and cleaned, and you wore soft pyjamas that weren't your own, your hair had been brushed, and someone had made you fucking chicken noodle soup.

A couple of days went by as your body slowly healed. The only interaction you had was with the ship's doctor as he tried to make you feel comfortable and safe. You didn't see any of the other crew, but each time you woke from a restless, haunted sleep, there was a steaming dish beside you. Before long, you were strong enough to walk around. Chopper held your hand as he led you above deck to meet the crew who sat around the kitchen table.

You felt shy and nervous. Sure, you'd spoken to pirates before, but always in a controlled environment, never on their turf.

But they were vastly different from the pirates you'd encountered, offering easy smiles and gentle words, coaxing you to tell them what had happened to you. You caught eyes with a man with a cigarette hanging casually out his mouth a couple of times, quickly looking away. Was this where it started?

You explained that you're a journalist on your home island. Or rather, were a journalist. Now? You were dust in the wind, not taking any sort of discernable shape, floating with no direction, no intention, nothing. You thought you had it all; a home, a job you loved, family, friends, and someone who you thought was the love of your life. In less than a week, it was gone.

You had been investigating a cult on your island and stumbled across a giant conspiracy involving the World Government. You had written a tell-all piece, ready to blow the whole damn thing wide open. But you made a mistake, you told your then-boyfriend about it. Turns out he wasn't who he said he was, he was one of them. Sent to keep an eye on the local journalists, he’d pretended to fall for you to keep you close. The cult that terrorised truth seekers from the shadowy underworld was an unstoppable and dangerous force and he was one of them.

They'd captured you, and when the darkness was lifted there was no heavenly bright light. Just a dank basement dimly lighting up your boyfriend's face, grinning from ear to ear as he told you in laborious detail what was about to happen to you. You would eat a Devil Fruit, they would drug you, and you would be forced to do their bidding. No choice, no control, this was it. They’d already done this to every other person who had been investigating them. They had a small army now, he informed you. An army of ‘nosey bastards who didn’t know what they were getting themselves into’. Despite your pleading, he laughed and said that you better get ready for what’s about to happen.

And so they did it. They had it all figured out. They forced you to eat the Devil Fruit, and as its powers flowed through your veins you realised that perhaps they didn’t have it all figured out after all. They didn’t account for the fact that you would be damned rather than be bested by a man.

Your powers erupted out of you, flowing with such a force that all you could do was let out a silent scream, as the shadows wrapped themselves around the foundations of the building they held you in and it collapsed into rubble. 

An arm roughly grabbed you, pulling you out of the wreckage. It had stuffed you in a barrel, and an unfamiliar voice hissed the words: “It’s better if they think you’re dead. If you survive, never return.” 

As soon as the last word of your tale left your mouth, a straw hat was placed on your head, and that’s how Luffy obtained another stray to add to his collection. You became the Strawhats’ Chronicler, your job was to forever immortalise the crew’s journey towards the One Piece and to document how Luffy became the King of the Pirates. Although it was a difficult adjustment at first, you became fast friends with the crew. Robin in particular was a huge help for you, as it was she who understood your plight the best.

Sanji kept his distance at first. You were so beautiful that he knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself from flirting, and that was probably the last thing you needed right now, so he resigned himself to being helpful in the background, finding out information about you from Robin and Nami and incorporating it into his cooking. But the two of you were like magnets, unexplainably drawn to one another and soon neither of you would be able to stay away.

You were ripped from your nightmare with such force that you shot upright, sweat dripping down your back. It was the same as always, but tonight you didn’t want to wake up Robin with your tears.

And that’s how you found yourself in the kitchen, face-to-face with a certain chef. He tried not to make a fuss as he saw your hunched, small frame in the doorway, tear-stained cheeks and sleepy eyes. Really, he did. But he’s only a man, after all. He gave you a warm hug and sat you down, making his own special sleepy tea (“I promise you, you will be knocked out after this. No bad dreams for our sweet Chronicler!”).

“I meant to say thank you,” you said quietly as you sipped your tea.

He arched an eyebrow, a gentle blush on his cheeks. “For?”

“The food. When I was in the infirmary, your food made me feel…” you trail off, suddenly embarrassed. 

“Made you feel what?”

You look up at him, an amused expression on his face. 

“Your chicken noodle soup made me cry,” you admit softly. “It was the first thing I saw when I woke up, and it’s my comfort food. And I cried. I was so touched that I forgot everything else. I can’t thank you enough for that. I could’ve lost my mind, but that small act grounded me.”

The blush was no longer gentle but furious as his eyes diverted from your face. “Ah. Well, it’s an honour to cook for a pretty girl like you, and even more so that it makes you feel something. So really, I should thank you for your high praises.” 

Your mouth twitched into a smile. “No, thank you!”

His mouth echoed yours. “No, no, thank you!”

And you continued like that, thanking each other more and more dramatically through laughs. The silliness wore off, and Sanji’s face turned slightly more serious.

“Look, I wanted to say something to you too,” he began. “I’m sorry that your ex betrayed you like that. No beautiful lady should ever have to suffer at the hands of a man, much less a man who should love her.”

You blink, suddenly remembering why it was you were here in the first place.

“It’s okay,” you say with a small shrug. “Well, no, it’s not okay but… I dunno. What else can I say? ‘My ex gave me up to an evil cult and altered my life forever and because of him my family think I’m dead and I didn’t even get the t-shirt’? I appreciate that though. I appreciate all of you.”

He blew air out of his nose softly as you tried to make light of what was clearly a horrific situation. 

“Well, if you ever need to talk, I’m here for you.” “Thank you, Sanji, same goes for you,” you smile.

He grins back. “No, no, no. Thank you!” 

You laugh and lightly hit his arm. “Cut it out or we’ll be here all night!”

His grin widens. “Maybe that’s what I’m trying to do.”

And maybe that’s where it starts. Those late nights in the kitchen when you both couldn’t sleep, sharing easy conversations and trying to make the other laugh. Warm mugs of tea and knees touching each other under the table. A bubble you created with just the two of you, a sacred space, with none the wiser as to these secret meetings of yours.

It would become routine for a couple of weeks. The nightmares jolt you awake, so you pad through to the kitchen for tea, smiles, and chats. 

“You know, I reckon you’re the beating heart of this crew,” you say as you blow on your tea to cool it down.

Sanji scoffs in derision. 

“No, I’m serious! If Luffy is the soul, then you’re the heart. I see everything you do for the crew, Sanj. You’ve got a kind soul.”

You wished you could frame the look on his face to cherish forever. A mix of gratitude, embarrassment, confusion, denial, and something else. Something you couldn’t quite place. 

“In saying that,” you continue, sipping on the now-cool beverage. “You look tired. If you’re looking after everyone else, who’s looking after you?”

He froze.

Your eyes are trained on his. “Look, there’s a reason we’re both here in the dead of night. You can’t sleep either, can you?” 

He looks down.

“Let me in, Sanj. Let me look after you.”

And he does. He tells you everything, and now the bond runs so deep you’re afraid. After all, the last person you fell in love with lied about it and broke your heart. You couldn’t take much more. But this was different, somehow.

Maybe it started the first night you slept in his arms. 

It was just a normal night. As usual, a nightmare ripped you from sleep. It was a particularly bad one this time, your cheeks wet with tears as you made your way to the kitchen. But when you got there, the lights were off. Panic clawed up through your chest. You’d come to rely upon the chef in the dead of night, and now that he wasn’t here, you were scared to face your demons alone. So, fuck it, you thought. I’ll just go to him.

The men’s quarters were loud. Zoro’s snores cracked through the room, and general grunts and smells and sleepy noises were prevalent, but it didn’t matter. He was there, and he would make you feel okay again.

And once you’d crawled in beside him, and his arms automatically wrapped around you, you knew that there was no going back. You woke up in your own bed, having slept soundly for the first time in weeks.

That night when you met in the kitchen, there was a slight awkwardness that hadn’t been there before.

He cleared his throat. “Did you, uh, did you sleep okay last night?”

“I did. Best I have in a while, really. I’m so sorry if I overstepped or-”

“No! No, I’m sorry for not being here at our usual time-”

“Don’t be stupid!”

“Thank you for-”

“Thank you for-”

You both stopped and he cleared his throat again, cheeks bright red.

“Well, honestly? That’s the best I’ve slept in a while too. So, thanks. And I…” He paused as if building up some courage. “I wondered if you would maybe want to… Do it again sometime. But, you don’t have to and I don’t want you to feel like I’m coming on to you because I know you don’t want, like, romance or anything because of the situation with your ex and-” He began to ramble anxiously, bringing a small smile to your lips.

“Sanji, Sanji, stop! It’s okay! I… I would like that a lot. And so thank you.”

He stopped blabbering and clasped his hands together. “Really?” There was a sparkle in his eyes.

“Really,” you nodded. 

You both built a little routine together. If Sanji wasn’t already in the kitchen, then you’d go to him. Otherwise, you’d meet in the kitchen for your cup of tea, before retiring to his hammock in the men’s quarters. The noises of the sleeping crew around you didn’t bother you at all as you lay entwined in Sanji’s long arms.

One night, you made your way into the kitchen and stopped quietly in the doorway. Sanji had fallen asleep at the table waiting for you. You took in his sleeping figure, the way his sleep shirt clung to his arms and revealed some of his chest. His face was relaxed and peaceful, and god, was it beautiful. Shit, you thought. I’m in way too deep now.

You gently woke him up, and the look in his eyes when he saw your face sent your stomach dropping and mind shortcircuiting. 

“It’s you,” he whispered.

You nodded. “It’s me, Sanj. Let’s go to bed, hmm?”

He had that look on his face again, the one from before when you couldn’t figure it out. But now? Now you knew what it was. It was love. It was adoration. It was ‘you’re my comfort, my safety, you feel like home and I’m at peace’. He stood up and pulled you to his chest, groaning softly as he rested his chin on top of your head. You looked up at him, fondness in your eyes.

“Sanj?” You whispered.

“Yes, my darling YN?” His sleepy voice and eyes were too much. You stood up on your tiptoes and pressed a soft, swift kiss to his lips.

He stiffened, eyes wide. 

“Are you sure?” He whispered. 

You nodded.

His face brightened and burst into a lovesick grin, one hand settling at your waist, the other snaking up to hold the back of your head. He nudged his nose against yours as your lips met, the world melting around you both. He pulled back and rested his forehead against yours.

“I want to promise something to you right now,” he murmured. “I promise to protect you, to keep you safe, I promise I will never do anything that could possibly hurt you, and I will hunt down anyone who does. Thank you, YN, for showing me what love could be.”

“No, Sanj… Thank you for showing me.”

His eyes were brimming with tears too, but he laughed softly, unable to resist the urge to say:

“No, no. Thank you.” 

And with that, you went to the safety of Sanji’s hammock, entangled with one another as you pressed burning kisses to each others’ skin, his heavenly touch making you forget what life was like without him. You don’t know exactly when it started, but you know this will never end.