#best cupcake I ever drew

[kiliinstinct]

Happy Late Valentine’s y’all.

Here’s a redraw of a Natsu I did a few years back. Just to challenge myself and see how I’ve improved…. With a lil Nalu sprinkled in because I can.

[macfrog]

2003: a dbf odyssey

a @chloeangelic x @macfrog fic

greetings greetings one and all. welcome to the fucking circus. chloe cupcake and i have a gift for you. we put our heads together, took turns writing a classic dbf fic, and here is the hellscape we created. please enjoy. [this is entirely satirical and just for funsies. no harm intended. no tw discourse required. love u]

pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader

summary: your dad's best friend, in your childhood bedroom, with his hard cock out. and that's all we have to say on that

warnings: unspecified age gap, tale set in 2003, female masturbation, creepy joel, praise kink, size kink, fingering, unprotected piv, degradation, angst!

word count: 4.6k

chloe's masterlist | max's masterlist

The sun shines through the window of your childhood bedroom. You’re still reeling from an argument you just had with your mom, over the degree you just spent four years and fifteen grand on. She doesn't understand your passion for fossils, she never has, and during every family function, only one person asks you how school is going. 

Joel Miller, your dad's best friend.

He’s tall. Broad. He’s built like a Dorito. Flamin’ Hot Cool Ranch. He drives a truck and he listens to dad rock. One time you saw him in a Led Zeppelin t-shirt. You asked what that was, and he said it was a band from “before your time, darlin’”. You swooned at the pet name. 

He’s quiet and unassuming. Lingers on the outskirts of every gathering your parents throw. He likes to talk about construction, and wood carving, and little else. At least, that’s what you thought, before you came back home after graduating. 

Suddenly, he started glancing in your direction every time you came into the room wearing a tight little top with significant cleavage. He would clear his throat at dinner and wipe a bead of his sweat from his forehead at BBQs. 

You always called him Mr Miller, and ever since graduation, that name made him blush. Last Thanksgiving, when his family was over for dinner at your parents’ house, you started asking him about old movies, and he grumbled, then told you about 2001: A Space Odyssey. 

He said he couldn’t believe that a girl with a paleontology degree had never seen A Space Odyssey before. Promised he’d show you it sometime. ”Smart girl like you will love it,” he said. 

You had opened your mouth to respond, to lend him the quirkiest retort you could think of, when your dad had bumbled into the room, shoving you out of the way. He brought up the latest Austin Ice Bats game, took Joel up in a conversation you couldn’t be a part of - you knew nothing about minor league ice hockey. 

Your mom called you through to the kitchen and asked you to help her with dinner. When you came into the kitchen, she started asking you if you’d gone on any dates recently, if there were any cute guys in your college classes. 

You rolled your eyes, “No, mom, none of them are my type.” 

She huffed while handing you a pot of mashed potatoes, “What’s your type then?” 

You didn’t want to tell her that your type was older men. Really old, in their fifties. Your type was Joel, but you couldn’t tell her that. Instead, you described what you thought Joel might’ve looked like when he was younger. “Brown hair, beards maybe,” you said, and turned on your heel before walking into the dining room and setting the pot on the table. 

You glanced over the place settings. Your mom had already put down everyone’s drinks. Yours and Sarah’s - a glass of water each. She says water helps with clear skin. Her own - a white Russian cocktail. And your dad and Joel’s, side by side - two beers, dripping with condensation. You paced around the table, formulating a plan. 

As your mom’s voice drew nearer down the hallway, you quickly switched Joel’s beer for Sarah’s water, sitting him next to you.

When he came into the dining room with your father, you noticed that Joel was looking at you with dark, sultry eyes. He gave you a tight lipped smile as he sat down in his chair, then turned to your mother, “Looks great.” You felt his knee knock into yours under the table, but he didn’t move away. Heat pooled in your stomach. Your chest tightened, threatening to burst from the confines of your tight t-shirt.

The same t-shirt you’re wearing right now - sat at the end of your bed. Remembering the way his denim jeans felt on your bare leg. You lie back on your sheets and stare at the ceiling, thinking of his swollen muscles under his flannel shirt. The tuft of chest hair sprouting from over the collar. The veins in his hands as he passed you the salt. 

You were holding a pair of jeans in your hands, about to slide them over your legs when you looked down to see a wet spot in your panties, and now you can’t ignore the throbbing in your core at the thought of seeing him again. 

You carefully trace your fingers over your panties, grazing the wet spot, feeling your cheeks burning from the awareness that it’s your dad’s best friend making you wet. 

You lift the skirt of your barleycorn sundress and open your legs, knees wide on your springy mattress. You hope that it doesn’t make a sound as you push the fabric aside, dragging your fingers over your most sensitive spot.”Joel,” you whimper when your fingertip brushes your wet opening, but you’re startled when you hear the doorbell ringing. 

You pull your hand out quickly and your eyes flare open, chest heaving. You sit up, throw your legs over the side and slip on your jeans, button them up and turn to look at yourself in the mirror before heading downstairs, feeling the low throb deep inside of you as you carefully walk out into the hallway and hear your father greeting Joel as he comes in the door. 

“Howdy,” he says when he spots you descending the staircase.

You hold tight onto the handrail, afraid you might topple over from the sight of him and the fluttering between your legs. “Hi.”

Joel’s eyes travel from your face down your body, ending up on your legs. You suddenly feel self-conscious, but all the same, secretly thrilled that he’s staring at you in this way. You stare back, eyeing him up and down from his scruffy beard to his dusty lace-up boots. Your eyes meet again as you reach the bottom step.

Joel sniffs once. “The hell are you wearing a dress and jeans for?” he asks.

“It’s called fashion,” you sass, and he grunts in response. “Ready to watch the movie?”

“I’m readier than a fried egg on the San Antonio Boulevard sidewalk, darlin’.” There’s that pet name again. You bite your lip and walk into the living room, trying to regulate your breathing. Your dad is already on the couch, remote control in hand, saying he has rewinded the DVD and that the two of you are being slowpokes. 

“The old man’s got jokes,” Joel grumbles, motioning for you to sit down in between him and your dad. 

The three of you put your feet up on the coffee table in front of you. You angle your feet towards Joel’s, your pinkie toe nudging against the sole of his boot. He crosses his ankles and settles back into the couch, folding his arms and prodding your side with his elbow.

“It’s a classic,” he mutters, and you giggle.

Your dad’s head whips around to face you from your peripheral like he is watching a tennis match. “What’s so funny?” he bleats.

“Nothing,” you and Joel chime, focusing hard on the screen. You smile smugly at the fact that you have an inside joke with him, something just between the two of you.

You can’t focus on the movie when your dad turns it on, and you suspect that Joel can’t either by the way he shifts around in his seat. “Got ants in your butt, buddy?”, your dad snorts, and Joel waves dismissively while you stifle your laughter. 

“Just feel like I’m sinkin’ into the couch here,” Joel says, “‘S too soft.” 

Soft, you replay the way he says it, over and over in your mind. You wonder if he’ll think you’re soft if he touches you with his rough hands.

“This movie sucks,” you announce, halfway through. “I can’t believe I had never heard of it. I thought it only came out two years ago?”

Joel snorts. “It came out in 1968 and was directed by Stanley Kubrick, dingus. 2001 is just the title of the film.”

Your face flushes fifty shades of fuchsia. Your dad guffaws on your left side, clapping his hands together like an annoying seal. His laughter is so loud that he almost doesn’t hear his cell phone ringing until you point it out to him. 

“Yellow,” he says as he answers, and chuckles at his own joke, then holds up his finger and turns to the side, mumbling something into his phone. “Be there in twenty,” he says, then hangs up, and turns to you and Joel, “Gotta go pick up your mom but I should only be about forty five minutes as long as she doesn’t drag me into a conversation with her girlfriends. Y’all gonna be okay here?” 

You both nod and sit still as your dad groans and gets up from the couch, listening as he disappears into the hallway to put on his shoes and jacket, then the door shutting. 

You go to grab the remote control to keep playing the movie, and accidentally spill some of the Coke from the can you’re holding. Joel is looking at the screen while you look at the dark stain on the couch cushion, and instead of getting up to get a paper towel to clean it with, you scoot a little closer to Joel. 

He clears his throat and puts his hand on the back of the couch, right behind your shoulders, not saying a word. You could cut the tension in the room with a knife and you glance down at his crotch to see the bulge in his jeans, then look up at him. 

He looks at you for a second, then furrows his brows, “What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?”

“Thinkin’ about bones.”

“Bones?”

“Specifically the one in your pants, Mr. Miller,” you say and bat your eyelashes, and then, “Just kidding.” You turn your head back to the TV but you can see that he’s still looking at you. “I was actually thinking about the Micropachycephalosaurus.” 

“What did you say ‘bout my pants, darlin’? Could swear you said somethin’”

“Nothing, I promise,” you giggle and look away. 

Then his hand comes to your thigh, long fingers splayed over your jeans, thumb tracing back and forth, igniting a flame inside of you. 

“W-what are you doing, Mr. Miller?”, you ask nervously, feeling the heat pooling in your panties again, and this time, it’s not because of your imagination. 

“Lookin’ real pretty tonight,” he says, and his other hand comes to your shoulder. You whimper at his touch. “Can just call me Joel, you know that,” he scolds with a wink.

“Th-thanks, Joel.” 

You feel his hand come up under your chin with a featherlight touch, turning your face up to meet his eyes. He brushes his thumb over your cheek and your face feels hot, your heart beating fast. 

He looks at you through big brown eyes. You blink softly back, trying to transmit a code to him to clue him in on the ache making your thighs clench. You wonder if he knows Morse.

Joel grips your jaw and leans in, his smoldering eyes flashing between yours and your lips. He purses his own and before you know it, his warm mouth is flush against yours, his tongue pushing inside. He licks along the rim of your teeth and you open your jaw, letting him explore your wet gums.

In an instant, you pull yourself on top of him and remove his flannel, ripping the buttons apart and scattering the cloth to the couch. Joel’s hands curve around your round tits, he rolls your pebbled nipples between his thumbs like fiddling with a console controller. You roll your hips forward with a moan.

He's so hard. You look at him with wide eyes and a pout, “You're so hard.” 

“Are you wet f’me, pretty girl?”, he asks. You know it's wrong, your dad could be home any moment, but you frantically nod. 

“Good girl,” he says, and traces his fingers along the edge of your jeans, barely making contact with your skin. 

He stands from the couch in one fluid motion, and you squeal at the sudden way in which you’re lifted in the safe grasp of his arms. It’s astounding how strong he is. How able he is to sweep you into the air, carry you out of the living room. How his biceps bulge as his boots thud up the stairs one by one.

He reaches the landing and pauses, eyes scanning the four closed doors. He steps forward and kicks open the one closest to your bodies, before realizing it is the bathroom and reversing out again.

“Pardon me,” he mumbles an apology, and you giggle again.

“It’s the one on the right,” you instruct, and he shuffles down the hall carpet before bumping your door open. He pauses for a moment when he enters the room - your childhood bedroom. 

“Haven't been in here in years,” he says, and you know he's referring to when he helped your dad take out the old closets and replace them with new ones. You still have the same closets. Maybe he's admiring his work. You look at the posters on the wall and your floral bedspread. 

Then he lays you down on the bed and sighs. “These old knees,” he grumbles, “And my fuckin’ back.” 

You giggle. 

“Mind if I take this off, darlin’?”, he asks, gently tugging at the bottom of your barleycorn sundress. You nod again, feeling your face getting hot and your panties sticking to your pussy. 

Your back arches as he slips the thin fabric from your body, your breasts spilling out of their polyester prison. Joel straightens up, admires the view and hums to himself.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” he muses, then bends again to press his body against yours. His fingers tussle with the waist of your jeans, the petite buttons only women's clothing seems to have, and you growl at the effort it takes for him to derobe you. 

“I know,” he says, lips close to your ear, “‘S these big ol’ hands. They get in the way of everythin’, baby.”

You whimper pathetically, wanting nothing more than those big hands to get in the way of you. You shove your fists beneath the denim when he finally undoes the zipper, and help him drag them from your legs. As soon as the heavy fabric hits your floor, Joel’s removing his own jeans. Now, only your underwear and his separate you.

There's a wet spot on his boxers already and you whimper when you place your fingertip on it, biting your lip when he growls at the sensation. “M-Mr. Miller,” you whine, “Can I see your cock? It looks really big.” 

“‘S real big, sweetie, are you sure you can handle it?” 

“Y-yes, Joel, I'm a big girl.” 

“‘F you say so,” he grumbles, then takes off his boxers, and you admire the sight of his manhood. You've never seen a big cock like that, a real thick and long one. You don't think it'll fit inside and you gasp, eyes flashing open while you start to creep backwards on the sheets. 

“Keep the panties on,” Joel orders, following between your legs. His hairy knees push deep into the plush cushion of your mattress, his fist jerks slowly up and down his dick, which seems to only grow larger the closer he gets.

You nod obediently, biting your bottom lip. Your eyes stick on the dribble of precum he swipes with his thumb. You fall back, head sinking into your pillows, and Joel hovers over you, one hand by your head. 

You peel your underwear to the side, now positively soaked. Joel’s hand leaves his member to cup you, feeling your dripping mess. “So wet f’me,” he whispers, and you moan, long and ragged. 

Then he touches the tip of his finger to your opening and watches you squirm while he starts to push it in, entering you with one thick finger. You take all of it in stride, and you frown when he retracts it. 

“So eager,” he says triumphantly, then adds another, and you feel the coil inside you start to tighten. You can't reach as deep as he does, nobody can except for him. Your dad's best friend, in your childhood bedroom, with his hard cock out. Tears start pricking your eyes as you get closer. 

You whine, “I’m gonna come, Mr. Miller.”

He clicks his tongue, “Just Joel,” and then he picks up the pace of his fingers, pushing them inside you until you gush all over your sheets and his hand, feeling the tears sliding down your temples and your fists gripping the sheets tightly. He made you come, it's like a wet dream. 

You gasp when you see the mess you made and he chuckles. “Sorry Just Joel - I mean,” you shake your head, clearing the hazy fog of sex your orgasm left behind, “Joel.” Your cheeks heat with embarrassment.

“No need to apologize, sweet girl,” he whispers, pinching your cheek with his soaked fingers. Your own cum stains your skin, somehow cooling against the stifling hot air in your room. The air filled with lust and sex.

He draws his hand back, wraps it back around his cock, rubs your gleaming slick up and down his thickness. He groans as you coat him, head tilting back to the ceiling. For a second, you wonder if he will actually fuck you, or if he’s just here to jerk off using your cum, kneeling over you.

Your query is answered when he returns his gaze to yours and leans over you again, running the tip between your folds. Your body jolts at the contact, overstimulated and spent already. But Joel doesn’t care. The man gives no fucks.

“Fuckin’ tight,” he groans as he makes space for himself inside you, pushing the head in and impaling you on his fat girth. You feel so full. 

He bottoms out and moans. You watch a drop of sweat gliding from his hairline and down his temple, then crane your neck up to kiss it. His tip kisses your cervix on every thrust and you grip his broad shoulders, hanging onto him while he pounds you. 

“Good girl, takin’ this big fat cock,” he praises, panting into the crook of your neck. 

“Oh, fuck,” you feel the band inside of you tightening, about to snap, but then he pulls out of you and wraps his fingers around his cock again, stroking himself and snarling when he tells you to turn around. 

You’re spent, limbs wrung out like a rag, but you force yourself up while you look at his cock dumbly, seeing his precum dripping out and onto your sheets. Suddenly, you hear him, “What’re you waitin’ for, sweetheart?”, and you immediately turn around and onto your hands and knees, seeing a photo of your parents on your window sill. 

You screw your eyes shut so you don’t think about them, and try to focus on Joel penetrating you from behind in one motion, going full hog, filling you to the brim with cock. “F-feels so good, Joel,” you squirm and moan while he slips his large hands onto your hips, fingers splaying out over the curve of your asscheeks, pulling you back so he can fill you relentlessly. 

His skin slaps against yours, the air in the room quickly filling with nothing but the sounds of his moans and yours, his wet and yours, his body and yours. Your eyes squeeze tight until you see stars, raining down over the darkness behind your eyelids. Your whole bed shakes vigorously with the rate Joel pounds into you, mattress knocking against your nightstand and sending the objects on it tumbling to the floor.

Joel notices as one in particular - your Satisfyer Pro 2 Gen 2 Air Pulse Stimulator, which you find good but really intense with its sucking power - rolls across the wooden floor. His grip tightens on your hips and he chuckles. “‘S a good girl like you doin’ with a thing like that in her room, huh?”

Your back curls. You moan in response. “Umm,” you mumble nervously, trying to think of a response when you see his lips curve into a smirk, “I- I was trying to come, last night.” 

“Oh yeah? Thinkin’ bout what, young lady?” 

Your cheeks burn with embarrassment. You were thinking about him. He can tell - he brushes his thumb over your cheek. “Were you thinkin’ about me, darlin’?”, he asks, and you don’t respond. You look at him with wide eyes. “‘S alright, I’ve been thinkin’ about this tight little pussy, blowin’ my load in the shower. I ain’t ashamed to admit it, you’re a real pretty girl.” 

Your pussy gets wetter when you think about him touching himself and you wonder how it looks. Your dad would kill him if he knew, and you’re surprised Joel would tell you something like that, but it makes you so wet. 

The image in your mind forces you to arch your back, your body curving before Joel into the mattress. He grunts each time his hips come into contact with the plushy meat of your ass, telling you good girl and squeezing you just right as his cock hits you so deep you feel him in your chest.

“I’m - gonna - cum - again,” you pant, words muffled by the floral pattern your lips are smushed into. “Joel - I’m -”

“I hear ya, baby,” he says, hips snapping. His voice is rough, hoarse. He sounds like he needs some NyQuil. You make a mental note to offer him a refreshing glass once you’re done. “Cum for me, go on. Know you need it.”

Your walls close around him as you do as he says, tightening around the intrusion in your pussy. 

His cock begins to twitch deep inside you and he shoves you by the ass off of him. You tumble to the bed and roll over just in time to be drowned by his cum, thick white ropes spraying all over your tummy and tits. You worry with the ferocity of his release that it might reach the photo of your parents, but you’re too caught up in the pleasure of the moment, your own spend spilling out of your tight little hole.

“Fuck yeah,” he groans, “Take that cum.” Then, all of a sudden, his face drops and he freezes in place. He looks at you, covered in his semen, then runs his hand over his face and tucks himself back in his pants. He looks stressed as it dawns on him that he just came all over his best friend’s daughter.

“Joel,” you say carefully. 

“Yes, darlin’”. He winces when the word leaves his mouth. 

“W-what if my dad finds out?”

He runs his hand over his beard. “I don’t know,” he says, “I gotta go.”

“But w-wait, Joel!”

He’s already shuffling out of your room, hopping as he tugs his jeans back over his hips. “M’sorry, baby, I have to-”

“Wait!” you yelp, tearing your underwear from your body. You almost trip over the fabric as you hop down from your bed. “Take these!”

You throw the panties across your room and Joel catches them against his chest, scrunching them into a ball. You sit back on your heels, totally naked in front of him, smirking at the thought of him crossing paths with your dad in the hallway and knowing the secret he holds in his jeans pocket. Knowing that he just fucked his best friend’s daughter, in her childhood bedroom.

His cheeks heat with shock. Your panties are dripping wet. He nods and tucks them into his back pocket and adjusts the crotch of his pants over his still hard cock. 

Suddenly, you hear the front door opening. 

Your parents are home. 

You gasp and fumble with your jeans, trying to put them on with shaky hands while you hear Joel step onto the first floor, just leaving the staircase as the door shuts behind your parents as they come in. 

“Hey, buddy,” your dad calls, and you hover at the top of the stairs. “What- whatcha doin’ with your shirt off?”

Joel stammers, scratching the back of his neck. Your mom stares at him, eyes raking up and down his hairy torso. You feel a hot pang of jealousy at her wandering eyes on the man you just fucked.

“She, uh,” he motions up to you, now stepping slowly down the stairs, “She spilled her drink down my shirt.” He reaches for the crumpled flannel, whipping it in his hands and throwing it over his shoulders.

Your mom tsks. “So clumsy,” she says, shaking her head. “Did you get it cleaned alright?”

Joel nods, jumping a little when you arrive at the bottom of the stairs by his side. He’s still buttoning the shirt. “Yeah, all cleaned up. Thank you, ma’am.”

You feel a surge of excitement shoot through your veins, feeling your wet leaking out onto your jeans and knowing what lives in Joel’s pocket. You sway back and forth, hands clasped behind your back, smiling innocently.

“Sweetie,” your mom calls over, “Why don’t you go walk Joel to his truck?”

“Y-yes, mom,” you stutter, and motion for Joel to walk ahead of you. 

“Have a good night,” he says and pats your dad on the back on his way out. 

You watch every one of his heavy footsteps down the hall and out of the house, slipping on your Crocs before you follow him out, closing the door behind you. 

The two of you linger outside of his truck for a moment. He looks over your shoulder, squinting in the Texas sun as he looks towards the house. You look at the gray in his beard, the curve of his nose and his salt and pepper hair. 

Part of you hopes he’ll ask to see you again, but he’s your dad’s best friend, it could never work. He kicks a small rock with the toe of his boot, arms folded. He leans against the truck and looks up at the sky. 

Your stomach flutters at the sight of him and the feeling of his sticky cum on your stomach, gradually absorbing into your skin. 

“Guess I’ll see you ‘round,” he says and straightens up. He purses his lips while he looks away, then at you. 

You giggle and tuck your hair behind your ear, “Um, yeah.”

“Then I’ll teach you a lesson ‘bout not payin’ attention while watchin’ a movie,” he says, and his voice is sultry and raspy. His fingers are around your chin, tilting your face up to him. “You’ve been a bad girl, lettin’ your dad’s buddy fuck you like a little slut.”

Your lips smush between his finger and thumb. “Yesh, Mr. Miller,” you push between your teeth.

“The hell’d I tell you? It’s Joel.”

You nod fervently. “Yesh, Jool.”

He releases you and opens the truck door, eyeing you constantly as he gets in. 

You pick at your nails nervously as you watch him start the truck, and then drive away. 

You lean against your parents’ Honda Civic and look up at the sky, closing your eyes and sighing. Your teeth come to bite your lower lip into your mouth, tasting him on your tongue. Your dad’s best friend. 

He promised he would teach you a lesson. You wonder what the lesson is.

[sequinsnstars]

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ fresh page, on the desk ݁˖ ⊹ ‧₊˚

JASON GRACE .ᐟ

ingredients; mason grace and cupcakes

fyi; gn reader who is roman but has no specified godly parent, timeline is messy but wtv, cursing, i reference media i like bc i’m self indulgent, little additions to the hoo plot, silly little 4th wall breaking

notes; first fic hii, lmk ur thoughts! probably a series 👀 big thank u to all my fave pjo writers/moots for inspiring this 🫶🏽 @hopelesslyromanticshark @jgracie @cinemaconrad

wc; 1.7k

food mood; classic vanilla cupcakes. perhaps with a light chocolate frosting.

Cyclops Books was your safe haven.

After a long day of excessive criticism during training, it was the perfect place to allow yourself to relax your posture, if only a little bit. You loved your friends, yes, but sometimes you just needed a little break from it all. The entirety of New Rome was your third place. The somehow always-green grass and thriving flowers, the curved cobblestone streets leading to homes filled with laughter and warmth, the lingering scents of the bakery’s famous freshly-baked chocolate chip cookies – you could go on. Even Terminus couldn’t stop you from coming here as much as you were able to.

So why was it so off today?

As you took your usual evening stroll before dinner, you noticed that almost all the homes and shops had their bright white porch lights on and the usual soft, yellowed string ones were put away. Not to mention the lack of New Rome Elementary kids playing outside after school, or the fact that the usual cozy atmosphere felt tight and formal: the exact thing you tried to get away from by coming here. It even felt like the sunset sky was trying its best to remain a single organized color rather than its usual gorgeous, messy, watercolor-like self.

You tried not to think about it much as you entered your favorite bookstore. Your bookstore. It had been ever since your first visit years ago. It had taken a while to grow accustomed to camp. During the New Rome field trip for fresh campers, something about it drew you in. The warm hanging lights and the stacked bookshelves reminded you of a shop in one of the many cities you’d lived in. That one had always been your favorite. Tyson and Ella had welcomed you strongly that day, cheering, “New campers! New campers!” and shoving slightly burnt croissants in your face. After seeing all your favorite mortal books for sale, you decided it would be the first of many times you entered the place. It wasn’t long before you striked up a friendship with the two owners – they were some of your favorite people to see, plus, they let you pick out their store music!

(As of late, you’d mostly been playing the new Taylor Swift album.)

You opened the door, greeted with the familiar out-of-tune entry bells. Ella was curled up in her cardboard box, sleeping, but she peeked out when she saw you.

“Hello!” Her eyes lit up.

You smiled. “It’s nice to see you too, Ella.” According to what Percy had said about his first quest with Hazel and Frank, Ella was a lot more content now that she was with Tyson. You were truly happy for the couple, they had been nothing but sweet to you and they deserved all the good things coming to them.

She yawned and murmured, “Big event today. Tyse preparing in back. Back, back, back… Back to December. Taylor Swift. Speak Now. Now, now, now…” and promptly dozed off again. You let her sleep, heading to the romance section to hopefully find the new Emily Henry book. Still, you couldn’t shake the thought out of your mind. 

You entered the next aisle, thankfully getting your hands on the last copy of Funny Story. You took another quick walk through the areas you normally shopped from, since the store almost always had copies of books before they were officially released. It was unclear how Tyson and Ella managed to do this, but you suspected it had something to do with all the excess time a certain son of Vulcan–sorry, Hephaestus–had been spending on his computer, finding passcodes for mysterious files.

Not that you were complaining.

You walked a little faster to the R section when you spotted Love of the Gods!, a packed adventure about three mortals, Peter, Annie, and Grant, stumbling upon an entrance to the Underworld at a Halloween party and pet sitting the three-headed dog, Cerebrus. Silently, you thanked Leo for saving you from the four months of wait time for the official release.

Heading to checkout, you picked up a few new annotation tabs and cute pens for when you started reading your new books. You peeked over the counter to see if Tyson had come back – you really were curious about what was happening today. You were about to head into the staff-only back room (perks of being friends with the owners) until you saw a rose-adorned china bowl filled with cupcake batter just by the door.

Ella’s birthday was approaching fast, so you remembered that Tyson was preparing. He’d told you that he was going to make some sweet treats in advance, as well as plan to surprise her with Eras Tour tickets and ask Taylor to play The Alchemy and You Are In Love as the acoustic set.

You were so not jealous that Leo and the couple had gotten to attend a listening party for The Tortured Poets Department as a thank you for that one time they went on a quest to retrieve an enchanted scarf from the monster James Gyllenborg. Who said that?

You were focused on the food in front of you, but if you’d looked up to see who walked in when you heard the door bells chime, you might have avoided the fiasco about to happen.

Your books were tucked under your arm so you could help Tyson out a little and start pouring the batter into cute heart-shaped molds. You filled two cups and were getting ready to start a third when someone shoved your back, hard. The two novels you were about to purchase fell into the batter bowl, now completely soaked. Your jaw dropped.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” mumbled a voice from behind you.

“Watch where you’re going,” you hissed. If it was another one of those annoying New Rome boys, you swore you were going to–

You turned around and saw a blonde boy wearing a black vintage varsity jacket, blue jeans, and a pair of Chuck Taylors. You would have brushed the matter aside and treated him like anyone else if you hadn’t seen the Imperial gold glasses, the scar on his lip, and that pair of electric blue eyes.

The same ones half the camp fawned over.

Holy Tartarus.

“Praetor Grace,” you said.

Jason tensed at the name. “Uh, yeah. That’s me.”

There was a bit of awkward silence, then he continued. “Every few months, either Reyna or I come here with the intention of doing shop inspections. Council work. Normally, we go in and introduce ourselves, but usually when I come here… is his name Tyson?”

“Tyson,” you agreed, still reeling from the shock.

“Yes. Him. He gets stressed out when I say I’m praetor, so I dressed a little differently this time, to say the least. I only hope he doesn’t know my face well enough to recognize me.”

So that was why he was out of his professional attire. Anyone who didn’t know him wouldn’t have guessed he co-led the camp. Oh gods, this must have been why New Rome was on edge today.

Jason peered over your shoulder to look at the bowl. His eyes widened when he saw the books. “Shit. Did I do that? I’m so sorry, I’ll pay–”

“No, it was an accident, it’s not your fault,” you interjected. You did not want to have to deal with the awkwardness of the praetor paying for you. Besides, Tyson didn’t mind these kinds of things too much, since you two were close.

Just then, said Cyclops walked out.

Both you and Jason rushed in front of the bowl mess. You weren’t anxious about the books – it was the batter. If Tyson found out it was ruined, he’d be devastated.

You felt queasy seeing the grin on his face. How were you going to get yourself out of this?

“Friend!” he exclaimed. “Brought another friend… a boyfriend?”

Laughing nervously, you said, “No, not my–”

Jason took your hand in his calloused yet warm one and beamed at Tyson. “That’s right. The name’s Mason. I’ve heard all about this wonderful shop!” 

What the fuck?

He looked at you, a hint of pleading in his eyes. Oh. You understood.

“Yes, he has, obviously.” You nodded hastily. “I just had to tell my loving, sweet, gorgeous boyfriend all about Cyclops Books!”

(Was it you, or did the praetor turn a little pink?)

He recovered fast, replying with, “Pfft. Says the most amazing, beautiful, and talented baker I know.” Jason moved aside to reveal what you’d been doing before he entered the store. At first, you panicked, but when you looked at the bowl and books, they were clean and separated, as if nothing had happened at all.

Tyson gasped. “Cupcakes!” He ran to clear items off the counter so he could move the setup to a better area.

“How did you do that?” You whispered out the corner of your mouth.

“Gravity acts on air. Child of Jupiter stuff and all that. I lifted the books out and transported the excess batter back into the bowl. Any remaining dust or bacteria I sent back into the atmosphere. I tried to direct it to the sewers. The cupcakes are fine.”

“Wow.” You were impressed. He’d gone that far for someone he barely even knew?

Tyson returned to pick up the baking materials and put them on the counter. He looked up with a bright expression. “Wait. Double date! Ella! Me! Mason! You! Pretty please?”

Um.

You were about to say no and tell him about getting punishment from Reyna – having to clean out Scipio’s stable for the whole week. It wasn’t a lie; you had been caught skipping out on training a few days ago. You were surprised Terminus even let you into New Rome, considering he was usually informed on who broke camp rules. But before you could respond, your new boyfriend did.

“That sounds perfect! This Friday at six? We could visit the cinema, maybe?”

Gleefully, the Cyclops clapped. “Yay! Good idea!”

“Great! It’s a date!” Jason smiled. He glanced at you, but you couldn’t read his expression. “I’ll pick you up thirty minutes early. I’ve got to go help out Cohort 5 now really quick, there’s a soldier that needs tending to. I’ll see you later?”

You stared at him for a few seconds before processing what he was asking you. “Of course. Totally. Yeah.”

He nodded and winked as he left the shop.

What just happened?

hope you enjoyed the meal!

thank you for your order and your waitress siara hopes you come again soon 💌

[missmatchablossom]

Gojo x Reader Royalty AU | Part III.

summary: you are a princess in an arranged marriage with the crown prince of the country, satoru gojo. when you finally come of age and move into his palace, the two of you are forced to spend time together as the future queen and king of the nation. the future king definitely seems to have a thing for you though.

a.n: here is the link to part II of the story! enjoy the fluff <3

It was the night of yet another ball, and since it started you’ve been roped into what felt like thousands of meaningless conversations with nobles, politicians, random rich people, you name it. 

The job of a princess, apparently. It helped that Gojo was by your side the entire time, refusing to leave you alone. Literally refusing, because you tried to step away from him for a moment to grab a much needed glass of champagne, but he caught your gloved hand in his. You looked at him funny as he dazzled you with one of his princely grins.

“No,” he said.

“No?”  you repeated, looking at him in confusion.

“Don’t leave me here alone,” he pleaded desperately, contrasting the charming smile on his face. You grinned back, squeezing his hand.

“What will you give me if I stay?” you asked, taking a playful step into his space. You allowed your eyes to unabashedly rake over him, looking like a vision in his regalia. The cerulean jewels decorating his crown truly made his eyes pop, and it was a lie to say you weren't proud to have a matching tiara. You tugged on the lapels of his navy suit, acting as if you were dusting something off when you really just wanted an excuse to touch him.

By the smile that reached his eyes, he was eating up the attention you were giving him. 

“I’ll give you all of the cupcakes in this nation,” he promised, earning another laugh from you. 

“You couldn’t possibly get all of them,” you countered, as he scoffed playfully.

“I’m the crown prince of this nation baby, there’s nothing I couldn’t get for you,” he said, winking at you. You raised your eyebrows in disbelief, torn between laughing and blushing. No matter how hard you tried fighting it, you loved the way he flirted with you.

Before you could reply, another noble called Gojo’s name from a few yards away. He seamlessly smoothed his countenance as he faced the noble, tugging you close so you looped your arm through his. He laid his free hand over your own, rubbing the back of your fingers with his thumb. 

You finally broke free from the prince when some other royal approached the two of you to offer greetings. You didn’t miss the way Gojo’s smile tightened as he faced the man you later learned was named Mahito. Barely seconds into your conversation with Mahito, Gojo suddenly drew your attention to a friend of yours who apparently just walked in. Giving his hand a squeeze, you excused yourself to talk to Prince Yuta. You wanted to press him further on why he didn’t want you talking to this Mahito, but now didn’t seem like the best time.

The ball was finally dying down by the time you made your way out to your favorite balcony. Conversations finally fizzled out, most of the guests focused on enjoying the endless alcohol the palace supplied. You came here whenever you wanted to escape, when you got tired of talking and just wanted to be.

The moon shone on the palace gardens just below you - another favorite place of yours to be. You laid your hands atop the stone railing, leaving forward to soak in the moonlight. Your navy dress did nothing to protect you from the cold at this time of night, but you didn’t care. 

“I thought I’d find you here,” a familiar voice said. 

You turned and smiled at your prince who looked as devastating as ever, like the past few hours of the party hadn’t ruffled him at all. He was casually leaning against the doorway with two mugs in his hand, and somehow he still looked like he belonged on the cover of a magazine.

“I think my social battery is officially dead,” you admitted, eyeing the mugs in his hand.

He chuckled, following your gaze. 

He settled himself next to you, copying your position leaning against the railing. Shoulder to shoulder, or at least your shoulder to the middle of his arm. 

“That makes two of us. Thought you could use this,” he said, handing you the mug filled with warm liquid.

The comforting smell of Oolong wafted up towards you, the warmth of the mug easing the chill at your fingertips. That warmth traveled up to your chest, and suddenly you didn’t feel cold anymore.

“How’d you know I was craving this?” you asked, peering into the mug to avoid his eyes. 

“You haven’t had it yet today,” he said, leaning towards you. You gulped as you thought about how much attention he was paying to you, that he knew that you had a cup of Oolong tea everyday, because it was the one thing that reminded you of home. And that you were so busy with party prep today that you hadn’t had a chance to have some.

You felt tears begin to prick at your eyes as you met his gaze, the silver flecks in his eyes sparkling in the moonlight, distracting you from the emotions threatening to overflow.

Not trusting yourself with words, you leaned up to press a featherlight kiss against his cheek, almost laughing at the way his jaw slacked ever so slightly.

“Thank you,” you said, voice thick with feeling as you sipped the tea. You wanted to capture the look on his face forever, the faintest of blushes adorning his pale skin, making him looking younger than his years. 

“Anytime princess,” he added after a beat, clinking his mug against yours. The flash of green liquid inside caught your attention.

“What are you drinking?” you asked, peering into his cup.

“Melon soda,” he said, giving you a toothy grin. Prince Gojo everyone, ending his night with a mug of melon soda. 

You laughed again, reflecting on how many times he’s made you laugh since you moved here. 

The two of you fell into comfortable silence, enjoying each other’s presence. 

“Cold?” he asked, studying you again. 

“Hm? Oh, yeah I guess I am,” you said, noticing your goosebumps and wondering if he did too. 

“This dress doesn’t do much to keep me warm,” you admitted, rubbing your hands up and down your arms.

“I imagine not, but you look gorgeous in it,” he said, the usual flirtatious note in his voice absent. It was the first time he ever outright told you he thought you were gorgeous, and you felt the butterflies travel your entire body. You muttered your thanks and looked away, not feeling brave enough to face him while you blushed. 

You jumped as he captured his chin between his fingers, gently turning you to face him.

“I mean it princess, navy is truly your color,” he said, even closer than usual. His eyes flicked down to your lips, and you couldn’t help staring at his own.

“Hmm, you’re just saying that because I’m matching you tonight,” you teased, gently removing his hand from your chin but making no move to release his hand from yours. The navy of his suit was an exact match to the navy of your gown, and you loved it. It felt like proof that you belonged together. 

“I admit I do love when you match me, but I’m telling the truth. You are stunning always, but I’m partial to you in blue,” he said honestly. You made a mental note to bring out everything blue you ever owned, already making plans to go shopping for more.

“You are such a sweet talker,” you said breathlessly, smiling shyly at him as you fought yourself from fanning the heat away from your face.

“No sweet talk, just the truth,” he said, rubbing his thumb against the back of your hand.

A beat of silence passed of you two simply looking into each other's eyes, unspoken words flowing between your gazes. 

“Lucky for you, the cold is about to turn me blue,” you joked, beginning to shiver. He laughed, his real laugh, not the polite chuckle he used when he was entertaining. 

You heard the rustling of fabric right before you were suddenly enclosed in something warm and heavy - the prince’s blazer.

“Finally being a gentleman and giving me your blazer?” you asked cheekily, hoping the tease distracted him from how embarassed and giddy his gesture made you feel.

“Please accept my most sincerest apologies my princess. Do punish me as you see fit,” he said, making a show of bowing to you while a grin split his cheeks. 

Rolling your eyes, you lightly smacked his shoulder, earning you a boyish chuckle from him. You smiled to yourself as the oversized blazer draped across your shoulders enveloped you in his warmth and heavenly scent.

“Hmm, I’m still a little cold,” you began, willing all your nerves to shut off for the moment. 

“Let’s head back ins-” Gojo paused mid-sentence as you gingerly grabbed his arm, lifting it up until you draped it across your shoulders, right where you wanted it.

“Ah, much better,” you said, giggling at his stunned expression. The prince was stiff for a second before he relaxed, drawing you even closer to himself as he breathed out a laugh of disbelief.

“If the cold weather is what brings this side out of you, remind me to install air conditioning in ever room of the palace,” he said.

[ckret2]

Chapter 32 of human Bill is convinced he's the best prisoner ever and does not deserve this abuse from the Pines:

Bill gets his fingernails painted! 💅🌈✨ Look at his fingernails, I drew this week's picture just to show them off. They're fun.

Bill also gets bound to a magic poppet that can control his every move.

It's hilarious for Dipper and Mabel, but not for Bill.

The early morning still was broken by Stan's wails of despair.

At some point during the night, the egg-and-toilet-papering kids had come back to Stan's car.

And they'd brought rocks.

####

Bill woke up with a sheet tossed over him and a cupcake sitting on the window seat. The cupcake was pink with green frosting and decorated like a happy jack-o'-melon. It was sitting on top of a note:

"Sorry I didn't mention I had plans tonight! Robbie's mom made cupcakes for everyone so I grabbed you one. The music video's gonna be AMAZING! I'll show you when Robbie posts it!" Mabel had signed with a shooting star.

Bill decided he hadn't been mad at Mabel last night at all.

He battled gravity to heave himself vertical, trudged downstairs to the bathroom, stuck his face under the faucet until his mouth tasted less like sour sandpaper, agonizingly dragged himself back upstairs to his makeshift bed, and collapsed under the sheet to wait until his head stopped hammering.

####

Sprawled on the living room floor, Mabel said, "What should I draw?"

"Draw me." Bill was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, watching the news and nursing a glass of Mabel juice. In an effort to counteract the lingering queasiness from overdosing on sugar and chocolate, he'd spiked the juice with two ground-up Elderly 60+ Vitaman™ brand Man Vitamins (khaki flavor) stolen from a bottle that Ford had bought for Stan and that Stan forgot to take.

"Okay!" Mabel turned around and squinted up at Bill. "Strike a pose!"

"Not like this!" Bill shoved a hand in Mabel's face to force her to stop looking. "Draw me how I really look."

"Bill, that's illegal. Remember?" Mabel pointed at the TV. Bodacious T was reporting on a child who'd dressed up for Summerween as "that weird out-of-towner who bothered us last year, you know the one," and who, under the Never Mind All That Act, had been fined fifty pieces of candy. The child's mugshot showed his crying face, but blurred out his yellow costume.

"He'd be the coolest kid in town," Bill said, "if he wasn't such a crybaby in front of the cops. Draw me anyway."

"I don't wanna get arrested!"

"Do you see any cops?" Bill grinned. "Just don't sign your name, nobody will know it was you."

Mabel considered that. "I can sign it someone else's name." She pulled out a few crayons.

"That's what I'm talking about! Do anything you want forever and frame the innocent!"

"What do you want me to draw you doing?"

"The coolest thing you can think of."

Mabel considered that, and got to work.

The news was boring now. They were talking about the weather, and it wasn't even interesting weather. "So hey, you were gonna tell me about filming last night?"

"Oh yeah!" Mabel said. "Did I mention the part where the dead rose from their graves?"

Bill muted the TV. "And I missed it?"

Robbie had decided the cemetery at his place would be more atmospheric than the trick-or-treater-filled streets (and less likely to have their shots ruined by passersby that didn't appreciate the depth of Robbie's lyrics). It went great, until the vibrations of angsty rock-and-roll stirred the slumbering corpses and they clawed their way from their graves. It turned out Gravity Falls had been having off-and-on invasions of the undead for the past year, ever since somebody decided to reanimate every corpse in town for fun, Bill.

"You can't prove it was me, I'm not the only one who knows how to raise the dead!" Bill laughed. "Hey—you're not drawing this body, are you? You said you wouldn't."

"I'm not, I promise!"

"Then why do you keep staring at me?"

"Um."

"Let me see!"

"No! Don't ruin the surprise!" Mabel picked up a glitter pen with feathers glued to the end and waved them in Bill's face. "And no cheating with your eye-bleeding psychic magic!"

Bill smacked the pen away. "Fine! So what did you do with the zombies? Feed one of the teens to them?"

"No! I chewed like four packs of gum me and Dipper got from the weird homeless dentist and made a fake baby brain. We used it as bait to lead them into an open grave," Mabel said. "And then we realized we could use the brain to train them to do tricks! So now we have dancing zombies in the music video. They actually learned the choreography pretty easily."

"Makes sense," Bill said. "I did fill the space where their souls should be with an insatiable hunger to party."

Mabel grinned. "I thought you said they weren't your fault."

"If they're good at dancing, I'm taking credit!"

"They were pretty good—especially considering how many limbs they were missing," Mabel said. "I'll show you when Robbie's finished editing the video."

"And I'll get to see you playing a creepy ghost kid, right?"

"Yeah! We were the greatest ghosts ever! Check it out, we were like—" Mabel fixed Bill with a dead-eyed slack-jawed stare and whisper-sang, "'We're the things that you have lost. Childhood joy, dead as a ghost.'"

"Chills."

"Dipper tried so hard to get in character as a ghost that he completely zoned out for a minute! When we shook him out of it, he said he felt like he had an out-of-body experience!"

####

At his computer, Robbie clicked play on a clip of the twins standing side-by-side in front of the cemetery gate. As they sang the chorus, Dipper's face went still; and then a spectral gray form rose out of his head, still singing in sync with Mabel.

"Whoa," Robbie said. "Sick. I'm keeping that in."

####

"So, it turns out my bro is an expert method actor," Mabel boasted.

Bill thought back to Dipper drifting up and down the stairs in the middle of the night. "Yep. Sounds like he's got quite a talent."

Mabel set down her crayons and held out a paper. "Okay—what do you think?"

Bill accepted the drawing. "Am I riding on the back of a rocket ship?"

"Like a bucking bronco! See the rocket flames doing a loop?"

"Sure do. Why am I holding a fish bowl?"

"It's like a cowboy waving his hat, but, you're in space. So that's your astronaut helmet."

"It's beautiful," Bill said intensely. "It's the best thing I've ever seen."

"Aw, really? Thanks!"

"When I take over the universe, I'm rearranging the constellations to look like this."

"Don't do that, though."

"Fine, but I'm hanging it up in my throne room." Bill set down his empty glass so he could hold the picture with both hands, beaming at it as proudly as though he'd made it himself. Big change from his lukewarm reception of her house drawing yesterday. She should draw Bill more often. Being a good artist meant understanding what your audience wanted.

Unfortunately, now that she'd finished her drawing, she didn't have anything to distract her from staring at Bill. And she'd taken about as much of seeing him as she could stand. "Bill. I say this with non-judgmental love. But you look sooo terrible."

"Yeah, I know. I think I'm shaped about as nicely as a human could ask for," he pantomimed drawing a triangle in front of his torso, "but let's be real, there's only so much you can do when you're working with a human bone structure. And there's way too much neck—"

"No! Bill, your body is beautiful just the way it is, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. I meant your hair looks awful."

Bill had taken a shower yesterday morning, emerged with his hair all wet and tangled, and done absolutely nothing to detangle it. And then, with it still half damp and totally disheveled, he'd shoved it under a cheap acrylic wig for the rest of the night. And then he'd fallen asleep on the floor still wearing the wig.

And now, with the wig removed, his hair looked like a bird had plucked out half a scarecrow's straw brains and made a nest out of it.

"It sure does," Bill said, with the slightly forlorn air of someone complaining about a war in a far-off country over which one had no power.

"So brush it!"

"No. Never. You can't make me."

"Why not? I thought you wanted to keep your hair all triangly!"

"Not enough to touch it. Either it'll figure out how to straighten out on its own or it won't, I'm not messing with it. I've got enough going on in my life today." By which he meant he had the last lingering traces of a hangover, which was a valid excuse to get out of all social, moral, and aesthetic obligations.

Mabel groaned in frustration. "I can't take looking at it anymore! If you won't brush it, can I?"

Bill gave her a skeptical look; but then he flung his hands out dismissively. "Sure, why not? If it bothers you so much. Have at it."

"I'll be right back!"

She got her brush from upstairs and a spray bottle from the kitchen, and directed Bill to sit on the floor so she could get on the couch behind him. After making such a fuss about brushing his hair, Bill was surprisingly well-behaved with somebody else brushing it for him. He didn't even complain when Mabel accidentally yanked on some nasty snarls a little harder than she meant to.

"I feel like a corpse getting prettied up for my funeral," Bill said. "Grooming each other is how humans bond, isn't it? This is one of your little social rituals? If all you wanted was to make sure we're still friends after you ditched me last night, you could have just asked."

Mabel shoved her foot between Bill's shoulder blades. Wise guy. She joked, "Yeah! We're bonding now! After this we're gonna paint each other's fingernails and talk about what kind of boys we like."

"I want rainbow spiral fingernails."

Mabel really should be used to this—but she still kept getting surprised that Bill was interested in the stuff she liked. And not even in a patronizing sure-I'll-play-along way. He'd turned to look at her. There was a gleam in his eyes. He really wanted rainbow spiral fingernails.

And now she wanted rainbow spiral fingernails, too. "Fine! But look forward until I finish your hair." One way or another, Mabel vowed, she would reform Bill into a proper good guy—even if she had to drag him there kicking and screaming. Fun dress-up partners were hard to find, and she couldn't afford to lose Bill.

####

Soos wandered to the living room to find somewhere to hang up his and Melody's "Best Couple Cosplay" award, but stopped in the doorway.

Bill, Mabel, and Waddles were sitting on the floor, watching some kind of cartoon psychedelic fairy princess lecture a spider on the importance of colors, with a bowl of popcorn between them. Bill and Mabel both had bright multicolor fingernails and were eating the popcorn with chopsticks to avoid touching their nails. There was more popcorn on the floor than in the bowl. Waddles had taken no such cares to avoid dragging his freshly painted hooves through the carpet. 

"Truth or dare," Bill said.

"Dare!"

"Dare you to assassinate the..." Bill trailed off. "I can't have the mayor assassinated, he runs Rainbow Club. And the sheriff and deputy invited me... There aren't a lot of public officials in this dumb town, are there?"

"I'm not killing anybody, Bill. Truth."

"Fine, coward. What's your favorite toxic fume fragrance?"

"That's easy! Gasoline!"

"Hey, mine too! At least on this planet. It smells like—you know that smell that heralds the coming of rain? Gasoline is the smell that heralds a really fun time."

"Yeah! Like going on a road trip!"

Bill paused. "Right! I was... I was definitely thinking about road trips. That's exactly what I meant."

Mabel added, "And it looks so cool when there's a little bit spilled in a parking spot—"

"The rainbow puddles! Yes! Big fan of the rainbow puddles—"

"I love parking lot rainbow puddles! It's like surprise happiness in the most boring place on the planet!"

Soos mumbled, "Girl talk," decided to hang his award up later, and left.

####

Dipper heard the bedroom door open and Mabel call, "Hey Dipper!"

"Hey." He didn't look up from his journal, where he was documenting last night's zombie adventures. "Oh, hey, bad news—Wendy said she got a text from Robbie, it sounds like all the footage from the cemetery last night is ruined?"

"Aww! What? But we worked so hard to train those zombies!"

"Yeah, it's just static. But everything we shot outside the gates is fine. I wonder if it's something supernatural that interferes with electronics?"

"Something supernatural? In the cemetery? Full of zombies? What are the odds of that!" Mabel laughed. "But heyyy, I've got some good news!"

"What?"

Mabel stuck a hairbrush full of gold hair between Dipper's face and his journal. "I got a replacement for the Bill hair sample we gave Pacifica!" She grinned and whispered, "Wanna make a poppet?"

####

It would have been really cool if the first full moon of summer vacation had come on Summerween. But the calendar gods were unkind that year, and instead, it came the next day, on June 23.

Which worked out, in the end, since it meant they didn't have any scheduling conflicts on the one night they could make a poppet.

They had the ritual space set up in their bedroom—a chalk star drawn on the floor with a black candle at each point—and the doll representing Bill—which Mabel had upgraded with button eyes and a miniature version of his favorite knit hoodie. They collected all the shed blonde strands off Mabel's hairbrush, wrapped them around the doll's neck, and tied them on. They set the doll in the center of the star; Bartholomew talked them through the ritual; the flames on the candles leaped a foot in the air, turned a pale blue, and then went out; and the binding ritual was complete. The doll was now connected to Bill Cipher.

"Weird," Bartholomew said. "Usually the flames turn black. I've never seen them turn blue before."

Dipper said, "That's not a problem, is it?"

"No, no. I've just never used the binding ritual on an alien before! I guess it works a little different!"

Dipper picked up the doll and eyed it skeptically. "Mabel, I know we said we're saving this for emergencies only, but—maybe we should test it out just to make sure it actually works?"

"I guess we should," Mabel said, grimacing. "Just—don't do anything that'd hurt him. Okay?"

Yeah, Dipper should've expected that. Whether he liked it or not, Mabel didn't just see Bill as her weird experiment in criminal rehabilitation—she saw him as her friend. He sighed. "Okay. But is it fine if we do something that would embarrass him?"

Mabel shrugged. "I don't see why not!"

####

As they crept from their room, Mabel whispered, "What if we stick him in a box and shake it up? And then tell him there was an earthquake!"

"I thought you were the one who didn't want to hurt him."

"Oh right."

Bill wasn't on his cushions under the window, so they crept downstairs. Halfway down, Dipper stopped, putting a hand on Mabel's arm. Bill was sitting at the kitchen table, chin in his hand, staring out the window.

"This is perfect," he whispered. "He's completely vulnerable. He's got his back to us, he's looking at the moonlight—even if he turns around, he won't see us because his eyes will have to readjust to the dark."

"I don't know if his eyes need to adjust," Mabel said. "Have you ever noticed he never turns the lights on when he goes into a room?"

Dipper considered that. He hadn't noticed—but now that Mabel mentioned it, Bill did have a tendency to lurk in the dark. "Well—okay, but he's still not looking at us. Let's see how this works..." He studied the doll; then turned it around and gently brushed a finger through its yarn hair.

For a moment, nothing happened; and then Bill swatted at the back of his head and looked around, as if he was trying to find what had touched him.

"I think it's working," Dipper hissed.

"Are you sure? What if there's actually a fly in the kitchen?"

Could be. "Let me see if it can control him."

"Careful—"

Dipper grabbed one of the doll's arms and tentatively lifted it.

Bill's arm shot up. He stared at it in bafflement. "Wh...?"

Mabel bit her lip. Dipper waved the doll's arm.

Bill's arm waved. After a pause, he tentatively asked, "Hello?" As if he thought maybe his arm was waving at someone and he should play along with it.

Mabel and Dipper clapped their hands over their mouths, fighting to keep their giggles quiet. Mabel elbowed Dipper, "Hey Dipper Dipper Dipper, get him to stand up, let me control his legs, I have the best idea—"

Bill knocked over his chair and had to flail his arms for balance as he abruptly jerked to his feet. He looked around, eyes wide and wild, an edge of panic to his voice as he hollered, "WHAT'S GOING ON!"

Dipper held the doll out to Mabel. "Okay hurry!" Mabel took it by the legs—

—and Bill started doing the cancan. He shrieked. "WHAT?!"

Dipper shoved his shirt over his mouth to muffle his hysterics. Mabel was letting little wheezy squeaks out through her nose. Bill's voice was almost an octave higher as he screamed, "WHEN I FIND OUT WHO'S BEHIND THIS, I'M GONNA SHRED YOU—" and they both got so close to bursting laughing out loud that they had to pause to punch each other's shoulders for self control.

Still holding one of the doll's legs up, Mabel hissed, "Dipper do you remember the bottle dance. Where they crouch down with bottles on their heads. Can we—can we get a tiny bottle for the doll—"

Bill was failing both arms to avoid falling with one foot held in the air. He grabbed the counter for balance. And then, with a grunt of effort, he wrenched his foot down and stomped it to the ground.

The doll's leg yanked out of Mabel's hand.

Dipper and Mabel fell silent, staring at the doll. They looked at each other. Mabel whispered, "It shouldn't be able to do that, right?"

They looked at Bill.

Bill's face was burning red, and he was so far past fury that his expression was perfectly blank. His eyes were huge, and round, and pointed straight at them.

They bolted up the stairs.

Bill charged after them.

They screamed in terror. They weren't loud enough to drown out Bill: "WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU BRATS—"

Mabel grabbed Dipper's arm. "Dipper, do something!"

"Uhh—!" He tossed the doll in the air and caught it.

They heard an alarmed yelp as Bill was launched in the air and then a crash as he landed on the stairs again.

They scrambled into their room and slammed the door. "Safe!" Mabel said.

"Yeah," Dipper said, panting for breath. "Can't get us here."

The doll's head twisted 180 degrees to stare up at them.

They yelped. Dipper tossed the doll to Mabel. Mabel held it out at arm's length, threw it in her nightstand's drawer, and slammed it. It tried to open again and she leaned against it with her full body weight. "Dipper, the duct tape! In my craft supplies!"

"Which craft supplies?!"

The tiny knocking inside the drawer was echoed by the pounding at the door, accompanied by a string of creative death threats: "—and when I'm finished the coroner won't know which corpse was which! I'll make a belt out of your spinal columns—!"

"We didn't do anything," Mabel shouted, "it wasn't our fault!" She took the duct tape from Dipper and frantically wrapped it around the night stand. Dipper added, "It was someone else! And we'll never do it again—"

Sleepy and muffled, Soos's voice drifted through the door, "Dudes? What's all the hubbub?"

Dipper and Mabel gasped, "Soos!" "Save us!"

His voice the perfect tone of righteous indignation, Bill declared, "I'm being assaulted, that's what!"

Stan's voice joined in from downstairs: "BILL! If you don't leave those kids alone I'll cave your nose in!"

"THEY'RE THE AGGRESSORS," Bill screamed, half hysterical. "They are! I'm the victim here! I'm being victimized!"

Stan shouted, "Kids, good work! Bill, you can go to—" He grumbled as he self-censored, "—sleep! Shut up and go to sleep!"

"You can go jump in the bottomless pit, Stanley Pines! I'll tear you all apart with my teeth if I have to! NOBODY in this stupid junk heap of a shack is getting any sleep until I get my—"

From just outside the attic door, Stan roared, "BILL!"

There was a dull thud as Bill leaned against their door; a lot less shouty, he quickly said, "I'm going to bed, I'm going to bed, I'm going to bed."

"That's what I thought," Stan snapped. The kids heard his footsteps retreating downstairs. Soos said, "Um... night," and his door shut. After a moment, there was the creak of footsteps retreating from the attic door.

Dipper and Mabel slowly, softly snuck across the room to the door, and pressed their ears to the crack. No sound.

They stayed there for several minutes, barely breathing, listening to the silence.

Finally, Mabel pulled away and looked at Dipper. They both nodded, and Dipper opened the door a crack to check if the coast was clear.

Bill's eye stared in. "Hey, kids!"

They yelled. Dipper tried to slam the door; but Bill had already shoved his hand through. Fingernails painted with neon colors and black spirals clawed at the doorframe. He shouldered through the gap in the door, and then he was in the room, smiling much too wide and eyes fixed on them like helicopter spotlights on two wanted criminals. There was blood on his teeth. "Wow! Playing with poppets?"

Dipper upturned his suitcase and held it up like a shield. Mabel pointed a can of spray paint at Bill's face. Bill took a step closer and they took a step back.

"Pretty advanced trick for a couple of children your age," Bill said conversationally. "Not bad, not bad at all. Heck, I'm impressed you pulled it off! Although you didn't make a very smart choice of test subject." He stomped a foot twice.

Something in the nightstand thudded twice. The twins jumped. Bill laughed at them.

Mentally cursing himself for having flinched, Dipper straightened his back and glared at Bill. "You're just mad you got jerked around like a puppet! What's the matter, Bill—you can dish it but you can't take it?" Mabel looked at Dipper like he was crazy.

Bill's indulgent smile cracked, dropping into a snarl of rage. He shifted his weight toward them. Mabel dropped into a judo stance and Dipper sucked in a breath to shout for Stan.

Before anyone could launch a full attack, Mabel took a shaky breath in, forced a nervous smile, and said, "Bill, hey..." (His eyes snapped to her face like a predator that just heard a twig snap.) "This was—just a funny prank, and we're all cool? Right?"

"Mabel," Dipper muttered. "Shhh!"

But Mabel kept looking at Bill. "Right? Buddies?" She held up her arm, showing Bill her friendship bracelet.

Bill stopped and rocked back on his heels. He gave Mabel a long, hard look—like he was seriously considering whether to accept the reality she was inventing. "Yeah. Real funny." Smiling through grit teeth, he said, "You know—it's been a while since I've had my energy strung between two vessels. I didn't even know what that experience felt like for a human! Very interesting. Educational. And it was nice to feel weightless again for a second. Even if the landing was a little rough." He licked the blood off his teeth. One of the teeth shifted. "So—thanks so much for spicing up a boring night. It's been a real blast. Hasn't it." He stared at them like he expected an answer—and possibly like he planned to strangle whoever answered first.

Dipper and Mabel exchanged a look. Dipper shook his head slightly. Mabel looked Bill in the eyes again. "Yeah! Big blast. So, you're not... mad. Right? Nobody's mad!"

Bill stared her down for a moment longer; and then said, "Sure, kid! It's all fun and games!" He forced a laugh—and then another, longer one, hahhh, like he was exhaling all his rage. And just like that, he was back to normal. "I'll admit it—for a second there, you almost got me good! Not bad at all." He held out his hand insistently. "And now the game's over, so you're gonna give me that toy so I can neutralize it. Aren't you?"

Dipper bit his lip, looking past Bill toward the stairs. He could yell for Stan; there was no way Bill could kill them before reinforcements got here—

Mabel elbowed Dipper's side and whispered, "We can't keep it."

And she was right. Now that Bill knew about the doll, he'd be spending all his time plotting how to get past them to take it, and they wouldn't have a second's peace. Either he got it now, or he got it later. Bill wouldn't rest until the doll was out of their hands.

Because he was terrified of it. Why wouldn't he be?

"Yeah," Dipper sighed. "Game over."

"I'll get it." Mabel peeled just enough duct tape off the night stand to wiggle it open a crack and try to squeeze her fingers in. Bill stretched his hand toward Mabel, and the doll stretched an arm out of the drawer. Mabel flinched in surprise, but grabbed the arm and yanked the doll free.

"Ow." Bill grabbed his shoulder and rolled it gingerly. "Careful, kid, are you trying to dislocate my arm? I don't mind popping it back in, but eventually that socket's gonna wear out."

"Sorry! It was a tight squeeze." She held the doll over Dipper's suitcase shield. "Here."

Bill snatched it from her hand. "Thanks a million, star girl." He favored them both with his most nearly-charming, far-too-wide smile. "Good night, kiddos. Have sweet dreams."

"You too," Mabel said weakly.

Bill left. Dipper shut the door. He and Mabel both heaved a sigh of relief.

From the loft over the attic, Bartholomew called, "Is he gone?"

"What are you doing up there?" Mabel asked. "Barty-mew-mew the scaredy-cat."

"I'm not fighting that guy, I'm porcelain and he's crazy."

Dipper flopped on his bed and stared at the ceiling. "Welp. I'm gonna have nightmares about Bill chasing me up the stairs."

Mabel sat on her own bed. "He just wanted to terrify us. And to keep us from seeing we'd terrified him." She fingered the star beads on her friendship bracelet. "He wouldn't have hurt us, I'm sure of it."

"Wh—seriously? You don't think Bill—"

"I know! But he's changed a tiny bit! He'd hurt anyone else, but he won't hurt us," Mabel said. "Or—well, me, at least. But I think he'll leave you alone too if I'm with you!"

Dipper pushed himself up on his elbows to look at her. "If he'd caught us on the stairs, do you really think he wouldn't have tried to tear us apart?"

Mabel considered that; and then reluctantly admitted, "He wouldn't hurt me as long as he remembers he doesn't want to hurt me." 

"Yeah, well. I wouldn't count on him remembering when he's mad." Dipper slid under his covers and rolled over. "Barty, can you get the lights?"

"Sure, one second." All the lights and lamps in the room flickered ominously; and then, with a sinister pop, snapped off without being touched.

"Thanks, man."

Mabel didn't climb into bed. She was staring at her fingernails. She'd painted them the same colors as Bill's; but she'd used a black marker to draw spirals on his, and he'd drawn stars and sloppy tiger stripes on hers.  In the dark, the colors were all faded.

This time, just once, maybe she and Dipper were the bad guys. He might disagree—he'd actually been puppeted, maybe he saw this differently from Mabel—but that probably didn't make it okay to do it back to Bill just for fun. They should've saved the poppet for an emergency. And the cancan, she decided, was definitely too much.

She smoothed out her covers; then she pulled up her knees to her chest, hugged them, and stared thoughtfully down at Bill's face in the middle of her zodiac blanket.

####

In the dark and quiet of the downstairs bathroom, Bill sat cross-legged on the toilet lid. He held the doll in his cupped hands. Soon, he'd disassemble it—but not yet. Tonight, it was his tool. He shut his eyes and focused on it.

There was the thinnest thread of energy, channeled through his shed hair, connecting this doll to him. He studied the thread, feeling it in his mind, exploring it, strengthening it—until he could almost feel it tugging on him.

And then he started psychically groping for similar connections.

He set the doll on the floor, on top of the drawing Mabel had given him.

His other eyes—the billions of depictions of his face scattered across this planet—weren't meant to be used in this dimension. They were designed like windows he could peer through from the Nightmare Realm; here on Earth, he was on the wrong side of the windows to see through them. And he wouldn't be surprised if the Axolotl had somehow found a way to blindfold them on top of that—after all, he seemed to have done the same to most of Bill's other abilities.

But Bill was resourceful, he was stubborn, and he didn't have anything better to do.

He focused all his energy on trying to feel the drawing the same way he felt the doll, searching for a connection between this body and that face—and he searched, and searched, and searched.

He wasn't sure how long he tried. At least a couple of hours. Straining, straining—for nothing. His head hurt.

What was the difference? The doll was shaped like him, the drawing was shaped like him. What did the doll have that the drawing didn't?

The hair. A bit of his flesh.

Bill knelt over the picture, studying it in the dark. He opened an eye wide, wiped a fingertip across the surface of his eyeball to collect his tears, and pressed it to the drawing's eye.

He could feel a thread of energy stringing from his eye to the paper.

He climbed back on the toilet lid, shut his eyes, and focused on that thread. With an effort that threatened to split his head in two, he pried open his inner eye. And then he was staring up at his own human form from the drawing on the floor.

His body was shaking. His head was throbbing. He wobbled dizzily on the toilet; and as he saw himself topple off, his trance broke, the vision disappeared, and he blacked out. White spots burst behind his eyes.

When he next opened an eye, the room was spinning. He shut his eye. It was several minutes before he could sit up without being sick. He leaned against the wall and let the sweat on his forehead and cheek soak the old wallpaper.

The white spots he'd seen as he passed out were his distant all-seeing eyes. 

He'd done something tonight. That was good. But there was no way he was seeing through any other pictures like that. He needed something he could focus his power through, like an antenna.

He needed gold.

####

(Last chapter of the year!! If you enjoyed, I'd love to hear y'all's thoughts & comments! Thanks!)

[accio-sriracha]

Wolfstar and Markers.

~~~♤~~~

Sirius likes to draw on his friends.

It's just something he does when he's bored in class.

He writes Property of Sirius on each of them. Sometimes abreviating it to P.O.S. for the double meaning.

He draws little cupcakes and pieces of cheese on Peter's hand.

He loves to draw golden snitches and broomsitcks across James' thigh during the summer, charming them to fly around.

But, rather ironically, it was Remus who usually sat next to him.

It was an exceptionally boring day in history of magic class, they were all waiting for the lesson to end as Professor Binns droned on about the Great Goblin War.

Sirius pulled the marker out of his bag, grabbing Remus' arm without waiting for permission.

Despite pretending to be annoyed each time, Remus stayed carefully still.

A little too still.

He literally spent a good portion of the time Sirius was drawing on him not breathing.

It was secretly his favorite part of the day.

He loved the feeling of Sirius' fingers skating across his skin.

He loved watching his concentrated expression from the corner of his eyes.

He loved the way Sirius took his time, careful not to mess it up.

How Sirius always told him he wasn't allowed to wash it off.

He never did, keeping it until the end of the day.

He pretended to hate it but each time he felt himself falling a little deeper in love with his best friend.

Sirius moved on from drawing moons and stars to drawing hearts at some point during their fifth year.

It was literally all he would ever draw on Remus now.

He kept the same drawings on the others, quidditch themed for Prongs and various snacks for Wormy.

But always hearts on Remus.

Remus couldn't figure out why, but the tiny detail made his own heart flutter faster every time.

He wondered what caused the switch, wondered if it was as significant as he was making it out to be in his head.

One day, while Sirius was doodling on Remus' hand, James asked him,

"Why the hearts, mate?"

It was pure bored curiosity, there wasn't any real interest in his eyes when he said it.

But Sirius looked up, and his answer made Remus' entire brain malfunction.

"I'm waiting for Remus to ask me to be his boyfriend. This is about as obvious as I can get before I decide to ask him myself."

And then he just-

Went back to his doodling.

As if nothing even happened.

As if that wasn't the single most earthshattering thing Remus had ever heard in his life.

As if that wasn't something Remus had been dreaming of doing for years.

Remus could feel the shock on his face.

He could tell he wasn't doing a very good job of hiding any of the emotions swirling through him.

Did Sirius know then? This whole time had he secretly known how much Remus enjoyed their little moments together?

"Moons?" Sirius whispered.

Remus hadn't realised how long it had been since they stopped talking.

Sirius was staring at him, a small flicker of uncertainty passed over him, like he was realising there was a possibility he was wrong,

"You okay?" He asked.

"Can you hand me that marker?" Remus replied instead.

Sirius' eyes went wide for a fraction of a second before he nodded, passing it to Remus.

Remus reached out for Sirius' hand, Sirius gave it to him without hesitation.

He drew a single shaky heart, adrenaline pumping through him.

"Yes." He whispered, "I do want to be your boyfriend."

And that was it.

They've been together ever since.

Sirius loves to tell people the story of how they fell in love.

He always pays specific attention to the part where Remus sat shocked into stillness for fifteen minutes before Sirius finally asked if he was okay.

Remus proposed around Christmas, they were gathered at the Potter's home, watching baby Harry stumble around as he tried to walk.

Sirius and Remus were sitting on the sofa, Peter sat on the ground, holding his arms out for Harry, and Lily and James stood by the kitchen, watching them all with a smile.

Remus had told the others his plan already and they thought it was amazing.

"Hey Pads?" He whispered, kissing the top of his head.

Sirius hummed and leaned in closer to him.

"Can you go grab me a marker? I think I saw one on the counter earlier."

Sirius paused and leaned away, giving him a curious look, "A marker?" He repeated. Remus nodded,

"Yeah, I think it was in the kitchen."

Sirius shrugged and stood up, walking over to the counter to find the black sharpie Remus had placed there earlier.

He sat back down, passing it over, "What's this for?"

"Give me your hand." Remus whispered.

The others went silent, watching them quietly.

Remus could feel adrenaline shooting through him, just like the last time he'd done this.

He carefully drew a heart on Sirius' hand, big enough to reach from one side to the other.

Sirius smiled, "I didn't think you still remembered. It's been years since I've talked about that."

Remus nodded quietly, lifting his hand up so Sirius couldn't see what he was writing.

Sirius watched him, impatiently waiting until Remus let him see.

Inside the heart was now four words, written in Remus' neat cursive,

"Will you marry me?"

Sirius looked up so suddenly it caught Remus by surprise.

He threw his arms around him, burying his face into his shoulder,

"Yes." He breathed, "Of course I want to marry you, Moons."

They kissed, teary eyed and holding each other close.

The others ran to them immediatley, pulling them into hugs and shouting congratulations.

Sirius told that story for an even longer amount of time.

If you look carefully enough, you'll still find a black marker in every room of their home.

Every note they leave for each other are always signed by these, and always with a small heart at the bottom in place of a signature.

Sirius still draws little hearts on him when he's bored sometimes.

And it's still Remus' favorite part of his day.

~~~♤~~~

[giggly-squiggily]

Inked (Big Windup)

Heyo! Guess who's back with Big Windup Content! :D I had this little ol' thing sitting in my WIP for weeks before realizing I should finish it up and post it lols, and here I am to do so! I hope y'all like it! :D

CW: Swearing

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps):

@cupcake-spice13 @intheticklecloset (I know you're not on the Taglist but BAM! Baseball tickles >:D)

Summary: Tajima after writing a massive "1" on Mihashi's back decides he should do it for Abe too. The other disagrees, leading to a rather giggly compromise.

“Hold still! Lemme write it!”

“No way! I told you I don’t need it!”

Tajima was back at it again, a black marker in hand as he tried once more to mark Abe. He figured the clean up hitter had let it go after a while, but nope- he was ever insistent on drawing a massive number “2” on his back!

“Why are you resisting so much? It’ll make Mihashi feel good!” Tajima was halfway to his target, eyes dancing as he flinched each way Abe tried to escape. “Don’t you want to be in a team with him?”

“I’m already in a team with him- I don’t need a number to prove it!” An opening had appeared! Abe made a dash for it-

“GOTCHA!” Tajima cried, leaping at him and sending them both flailing into the field. “Now hold still!”

“Tajima, I already told you, I don’t need a number!”

“Come on- think of Mihashi!”

“It’ll never come out!”

“It's an erasable marker! It’s good for clothes!”

“Tajima!”

“Oh okay- if you’re really against it.” Abe heard the marker being recapped, a small sigh of relief escaping his lips.

“Can I at least draw a “2” on you with my finger then? No ink, I promise.” Tajima asked, a clear puppy eyed pout in his voice. Abe closed his eyes as he pressed his face into the field.

“Give me the marker.” It appeared before him. Alongside a second one. Abe turned a bit to raise a brow.

“You always need a backup.” Tajima shrugged with a sheepish laugh. The catcher rolled his eyes before flopping forward again.

“Fine. But JUST with your finger. My mom will be pissed if I come home with sharpie ink all over my uniform.”

“I told you, it was erasable! I only use a sharpie for Mihashi.” Tajima giggled as he got comfortable, sitting up and positioning his finger. “Ready?”

“Sure-” Abe got out before immediately wincing, startled by the tingling sensation of Tajima’s finger running down his spine. “Mm! T-Tajima, lighten up!”

“Does it hurt?” The cleanup hitter asked, doing so. To Abe’s dismay, it only made it worse.

“N-No it ti-ihihihiihckles!” The catcher yelped before dissolving into laughter, fists curling against the grassy field as he kicked out a leg, trying his best not to throw the other off. Maybe all that time spent with Mihashi made him more accepting to tickles? “Tahahajima, huuhuhurry uhuhuhup!”

“No way..” Tajima gaped down at him with wide eyes. Then he grinned. “Did I just discover a new tickle spot on the Abe Takaya? How lucky am I?”

“Doohohohn’t say my nahahame like thahahhat! Gehahaha, if yohoohu’re dohohone, get ohoh-EEHEHEH!” The catcher arched even more when Tajima switched from tracing to scratching, dancing one finger up and down the invisible “2” he drew on his friend’s back. “Doohohohn’t doohohohoho thahahhahat, yohohoohu ahahhahhahass!”

“What? I gotta fill it in! Can’t go around having a outline- no one will be able to distinguish it from a number or a pe-”

“Iihihihihihit’s nohohohohohot ehehehehheven viihihihihihisblehhehehe! Whahahhat doohohohoes it mahahahhatter if ihihihihit’s fiihihihilled in? Nohoohoh ohohohone’s gohoohhohonna knoohohohow!”

“I will! And I’ll always be haunted by my unfinished work! Be still- my canvas; the artist is at work!” Tajima doubled his scratching, increasing Abe’s giggle fits and yelps of laughter tenfold. “Now that the actual number is done, let’s add some color!”

“TAHAHHAJIIHIHMA!” The catcher all but shrieked when his ribs were suddenly grabbed, fingers pressing in at both sides. “WHAHAHAT HAHAHPPEHEHED TO THE NUUHUHUMBER?”

“Relax, I’m getting my pens! They’re somewhere in here…” Tajima continued to “search” for his pens within Abe’s ribcage, narrowing in on the terrible spots along his upper and lower sets just to keep him laughing. “Man, I really need to organize this space better. They’re all over the place in there! Abe, you gotta stop moving so much; the pens keep rolling away!”

“STHAHAHP FUHUUHUCKING TIIHIHIHCKLING MEHEHEH THEHEHEHEHEN!” Abe cried, thrashing like a fish out of water as his worst spots were drilled into. Above him, Tajima giggled like a child, delighted.

“Oo, you’re saying bad words! Bad Abe! Hehehe!” Finally, Tajima pulled his hands back, returning to his spine as he finished putting the last few touches onto his “design”. The tickles died down to a comforting amount, leaving Abe coughing through giggles as he caught his breath. “There we go..and done!”

The catcher let out a huff of air as Tajima climbed off, far too tired to get up and chase him. Around him chatter continued, the boys laughing over the sight or carrying on with whatever conversation they were having prior. Footsteps shuffled into view soon, coming to stand before him.

“A-Abe..I erm, brought you this..”

Something cold and paperlike touched his hand. Abe all but shot up at the water, taking and downing it in one greedy gulp. “You’re a lifesaver, Mihashi.”

The pitcher squeaked with shy pride, cheeks warming as he smiled at his hands. “I’m glad…and erm- I’m sorry about Tajima..I didn’t think he’d try to erm, you know…”

Ah. Abe resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he looked at the markers left abandoned in the grass.

If ONE uniform was kinda stained, maybe his mom wouldn’t be too mad…

“Go get Tajima.” He sighed in resignation, making Mihashi squeak in surprise. “Tell him to use an erasable one, cause if we can’t get it out, I’m kicking his ass.”

“Oh..Oh! Oh, erm- okay!” The pitcher nodded, practically vibrating with joy as he ran to get said clean up hitter. Shaking his head, Abe fell back onto his stomach in the warm grass, accepting his fate.

If it made Mihashi do his best, then let him be inked.

Thanks for reading!

[ambrossart]

Out of the Loop (Preview #2)

⏪ Preview #1 | FULL RELEASE NOV. 10TH

summary: eddie went home with someone after prom, and gareth is determined to figure out who it was.

pairing: eddie munson x dwm!reader word count: -- warnings: language, new relationship, eddie's girlfriend is gareth's arch nemesis, silly childhood rivalries, eddie being happy and stupidly in love, jason being an overprotective ass, chrissy being an adorable little cupcake, the reader is chrissy's best friend, the unnamed freak is named grant in this series

series masterpost | series playlist | fanfiction masterlist

Now Gareth, his resolve reignited and burning brighter than ever, was prowling the senior locker area with his suspect list in hand. 

Let them keep their secrets, he thought. I don’t need their help. A lot of help they would’ve been, anyway. Yeah, I can solve this mystery all on my own.

And he would. 

Gareth was a fantastic investigator, you see. He could win a game of Guess Who? in less than five turns and had a lifetime record of fifty-three wins and only fifteen losses (such losses were unavoidable when you drew an easily guessable character like Anita. Ugh, Anita… with those rosy cheeks and annoying blonde pigtails. His little sister beat him in only two moves after that unlucky draw). Now Gareth would apply those same deductive reasoning skills to this. Ask careful, complex questions. Gather information. Cross those ladies off one by one.

There was only one problem: the girls at Hawkins High weren’t exactly forthcoming about their personal lives, especially when it involved Eddie Munson. In fact, most girls denied ever having spoken to the guy. 

Claire Dunnock, the most recent inductee into the popular clique, was being especially difficult.

Her blue eyes shifted back and forth anxiously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, and then leaned forward to make sure none of her new friends were eavesdropping. Claire had to be very careful. One misstep and she would slide all the way back down the social ladder. She couldn’t afford to let that happen.

Gareth sensed her unease. “Hey, relax,” he told her, “I’m not here to ruin your reputation, okay? This conversation stays between us. You have my word.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Claire said. “I wouldn’t be caught dead with that freak.”

“Hey, that freak is my best friend,” Gareth said. “And you and I both know that’s not true, Claire. I saw you get into his van that one—”    

Claire seized him by the arm and hissed, “Shut up!” Her eyes blazed with fearful, self-protective rage. “Look, that was a year ago, okay? I was a stupid junior who didn’t know any better. Eddie and I had a class together. I guess I got a little curious, but that’s it. We hung out once and I never spoke to him again.” Loosening her grip, she said, “Besides, he was nothing but a big disappointment, anyway.”

Anger flared in Gareth’s chest. “All right, that's it. I’m not gonna stand here and listen to you slander my friend.” 

“It’s not slander if it’s true,” Claire said. 

Gareth didn’t know how to respond to that.

His jaw clenched in irritation. “Look, just answer my question, okay? Did you go home with Eddie after prom or not?”

“Of course not,” Claire answered, practically cackling at the thought. 

(Why were high school girls so needlessly cruel?)

“I went to prom with my boyfriend. I was with him all night. Ask anyone.” Claire swung her locker door closed, put her hand on her hip, and raised her eyebrows impatiently. “Are we done now?” She walked off to join the rest of her friends. 

Gareth glared at her back, his insides boiling with indignation and righteous fury.

You got curious and Eddie got his heart broken. Again. 

He crossed out Claire’s name with his pen. 

Two suspects down. Eight more to go. 

He tucked his pen behind his ear, turned, and suddenly the hallway froze over! Okay, that didn’t actually happen, but a bitter wind did blow. Gareth felt it on his face as soon as he saw you step out from around the corner. 

Coincidence? 

Doubtful.

You were wearing blue jeans and a Fleetwood Mac shirt. Yeah, you would like Fleetwood Mac, Gareth thought, scoffing. As usual, you were walking side by side with Chrissy Cunningham, your best friend since elementary school. She was smiling and laughing at one of your jokes. Laughing out of politeness, probably. Why you two were friends, Gareth would never know. Chrissy was sweet like cotton candy and you were so… so…

(evil, pure evil)

rotten to the core, like moldy fruit.

“I swear,” you said with a groan, “it’ll be weeks before your mom lets me into the house again. God, she’s such a prude. How was I supposed to know she was gonna invite the whole family over for Sunday brunch? At least I was dressed up for the occasion.”

Chrissy looked at you in baffled amusement. “You were still wearing your prom dress.”

“And it was a very nice prom dress. Your grandma even complimented it. She said it made me look like Madonna.” You weren’t too thrilled about that comparison, but who were you to pass up a free compliment? “Now your mom, on the other hand… man, if looks could kill… I probably would’ve choked on one of those blueberry scones she was serving, which were a tad overbaked if I’m being honest.”

Chrissy went to her locker and fiddled with the padlock for a second before opening it. You stood patiently beside her, the wall clock barely within view. 

It was a quarter past eight, you noted with a frown. Was Eddie here already or…? 

While hanging up her backpack, Chrissy said, “Yeah, she definitely had some colorful words to describe you last night.” 

You turned your attention back to her. “Your mom called me a slut, didn’t she?”

Chrissy didn’t answer at first. She was busy unloading her homework. While she was doing that, one of her fellow cheerleaders snuck up behind her, tapped her on the shoulder, and gave a cheerful, heartfelt hello. Chrissy hugged her and asked how her weekend was. The two chatted casually for a minute and then the girl went on her way. Never so much as glanced at you. 

“Umm, I believe she used the word harlot,” Chrissy said to you afterward. 

“Oh, she got biblical, huh?” Great, you thought, as if that woman didn’t despise you enough already. “You know, I don’t understand your mom. First I’m too fat to be your friend. Now I’m too much of a slut. That lady needs to pick a lane and stay in it… and then drive herself right off a cliff.”  

Chrissy threw you a friendly glare.

“Just kidding,” you said. “You know I love your mom. She keeps me grounded. Without her, I might develop a healthy self-esteem, and we all know how dangerous that is. Yeah, that might lead to confidence and success… perhaps even lifelong happiness.” 

Ignoring you (or pretending to), Chrissy started digging through her backpack again. “Dammit,” she said under her breath, “I think I left my pencil case at home.” 

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Jason has a pencil for you.” You smiled inwardly—a willful, wicked smile. “Then again…”  

Chrissy pushed her locker closed, grabbed both your hands, backed you up against the lockers, and brought her face really close to yours. “Shut up,” she whispered in half-hearted anger, a rosy blush blooming on the apples of her cheeks. 

You took one look at her and busted out laughing. Chrissy started laughing, too. 

“I hate you so much,” she said, and released you. 

“I know,” you replied affectionately. “But see, this is why the whole situation with your mom is so funny to me. I’m the one who’s still a virgin here, yet somehow it’s me who gets labeled the…” 

You spotted a familiar face down the hall. 

“Gareth?” You leaned toward him, squinting. “What are you doing in the senior locker area?”

The sound of your voice made him flinch. “Nothing,” he said, acting strangely defensive for some reason.

That’s when you noticed the piece of paper in his hand. You gestured toward it with your chin and said, “What’s that you got there? Is that a love letter? You finally asking someone out on a date? Will you go out with me? Check yes or no. Who’s the lucky lady? Wait, aren’t you a little young to be dating?”

Gareth hid the paper behind his back and glared at you. “We’re the same age.” 

“And yet I’m a senior and you’re a junior. Hmm, how did that happen?” You tipped your head and smiled at him. “You’ve got company, by the way.” 

“Huh?” Gareth stepped back and—

A hand landed on his shoulder, closed around his flannel shirt, and spun him around. Gareth jumped back, swallowing a scream. He was now standing nose to chest with Ben Jabruski, outside linebacker and two-time defensive player of the year. Eric Kordell stood beside him, smaller but no less intimidating. His brown eyes gleamed with feral, territorial aggression. 

“Get outta here, freak,” Eric said. 

Gareth squared up to him, unafraid. “Last time I checked this was a free country.” He wrenched his shirt out of Ben’s grip, careful not to tear his favorite flannel. It was a Christmas gift from his mother. 

While he was distracted, Eric reached out and ripped the paper out of Gareth’s hand. 

“Hey, give that back!” 

“What’s this?” Eric asked. He opened the paper and studied it for a minute. His expression went from amused to curious to downright furious. He crushed the list in his fist. “Why’s my girlfriend on here?” 

“Oh…” Panic shot up Gareth’s spine. He took a step back and let loose a nervous chuckle. “Oh… you must be Claire’s boyfriend. You know, I heard you two had a lovely time at prom.” 

He turned on his heel and took off running down the hallway. 

“Bye, Gareth!” you said, fluttering your fingers as he passed. Then you looked back at Chrissy with a smile. “God, I love that kid…”

You went to your locker after that, ignoring all the busy little voices, the occasional odd glance and stifled giggle you received from the other students. Chrissy followed with her first-period textbook cradled in her arms. 

“Just ignore them,” she told you. 

“I already am,” you said. 

At the end of the hallway, you spotted Chance Gallagher standing in front of his open locker, wearing the same green letterman jacket that he wore when he asked you to prom six weeks ago. Chance closed his locker and caught your eye for a moment. Then he gave you a small, apologetic smile. 

What was he apologizing for? For asking you to prom, getting your hopes up, and then humiliating you in front of the entire senior class? You weren’t sorry he did it. In fact, you were glad he did it. Yeah, you wanted to go up to him, shake his hand, and thank him for being such a spineless little worm. If he were a decent guy, your night might have gone differently, and you were quite pleased with how your night went. So thank you, Chance. Thank you for being a complete scumbag. Maybe I should write him a thank-you note. 

Smiling, you turned back around. As you did, you stole another quick glance at the clock on the wall. 

Eight-nineteen… 

You sighed. 

… and now eight-twenty. 

“He’s running late, huh?” Chrissy said. You looked her way and she flashed you a sweet, teasing smile. “I know you’re waiting for him.”

A small flush of heat tickled your cheeks, threatening to set your whole face on fire. Resisting it, you grabbed your padlock and started furiously spinning the dial: three turns to the right, one full turn to the left, another quick turn to the right, and

“Are you nervous about seeing him?”

you missed the last number and had to start all over again. 

“Kind of,” you admitted shyly. “Is that weird?”

Chrissy shook her head, her smile growing brighter and brighter. “Nope, it’s totally normal and absolutely adorable.” Giggling, she hugged her book tightly to her chest. If her hands were free, she probably would have hugged you instead. “I’m so happy for you. I really, really am. I swear, I feel like my heart’s about to burst right now.” 

“Well, you should probably see a doctor about that.” 

Chrissy stuck her tongue out at you. You did it right back, popped off your lock, and pulled on the handle. The locker door swung outward, squeaking on its hinges, and almost smacked Chrissy in the face. “Hey!” she said, laughing. She stepped back, skipped around you, and planted herself comfortably on your left side.

“So did you see him last night?” she asked, practically beaming. 

“Nope.” You slipped off your backpack and hung it on the hook. 

Chrissy squinted at you suspiciously. “Why do I feel like you’re lying right now?” 

“I’m not lying,” you told her, only to be betrayed by your blushing face. “I didn’t see him last night… technically it was this morning.” 

Twelve-o-two, to be exact. That’s when you saw the headlights flashing through your bedroom window blinds.

“Oh my god,” Chrissy said.  

“What? He just stopped by to say goodnight.” You smiled softly to yourself. “It was kind of romantic, actually.” 

“Uh-huh,” Chrissy said, laughing at you. “And how long did you two say goodnight?”

“Only for an hour… and a half.”

It was raining last night. You couldn’t invite Eddie into the house, so you two hung out in his van for a while. A very long while. W.A.S.P. was playing on the stereo. Eddie had found the cassette tape while cleaning out his van that afternoon. He was very proud of this accomplishment. It was adorable. He had you listen to a few of his favorite songs, asked you about your day, told you about his, and during “Cries In the Night,” he leaned over the center console and kissed you. Everything after that was a bit of a blur. The last thing you remembered was the horn blaring. You had accidentally pressed it with your elbow.  

“Oh my god,” Chrissy said.

“Stop saying, ‘Oh my god.’ You sound like my mom.”  

She had said the exact same thing after confronting you about it in the kitchen this morning. Turns out, the car horn had woken her up. Then she caught you creeping back inside through the front door. It was an awkward breakfast, to say the least. 

“That’s how it starts, you know,” Chrissy said. “Late-night visits. Long, drawn-out goodbyes. You two are gonna be inseparable this summer.” She breathed a long, lovesick sigh. “Jason and I used to be like that.” 

“You’re still like that.” 

“Yeah,” she said, smiling. 

“Speaking of…” You saw Jason Carver coming down the hallway, his pants ironed and creased, white collared shirt tucked in, a brand new Rolex glinting on his left wrist (an early graduation present from his father, apparently). He looked like a Ralph Lauren catalog model. “Is it weird that I’m picturing him naked right now?”   

Chrissy hid her face in embarrassment. “I swear to God, if you say anything…” 

“What am I gonna say to him? ‘Thank you for deflowering my best friend’? ‘I heard your penis is rather pleasing’? I don’t wanna talk to him about that. I don’t even wanna think about that.”

Prior to this weekend, you couldn’t even imagine Jason Carver having genitals. You always figured he was like a Ken doll down there. Nothing but smooth plastic.

Chrissy looked at you, mortified. “Why do I tell you anything?”  

“I have no idea,” you said. Then you checked the clock again. 

Eight twenty-three. 

Where the hell was Eddie?

SERIES MASTERPOST

FANFICTION MASTERLIST

unfortunately, i no longer do taglists. if you want to stay updwated on my fics, you can follow me and/or subscribe to my posts. thank you!

[annawrites444]

Matchups!

@sugutoad

A/N: I'm so sorry this is like a week late I was swamped with school and theatre rehearsals 😭 Thank you for your patience <3 ALSO we are name twins... Annas for the win :D

I was also soooo conflicted on who to pair you with because I see you with both Jason AND Percy equally, but Percy matches your type moreee to me sooo...

I matched you up with......Percy Jackson

Okay Percy is YOUR guy-you have this alluring personality that honestly just drew him in... Like the tide.... get it... (okay im done lmao)

But anyways he's definitely head over heels after he first meets you, I always see Percy as this really well balanced guy, I mean yes he has his moments like any other teen but he is a very understanding guy. Sally raised him RIGHT.

If you guys are ever in a conversation and someone speaks over you or if he interrupts you by accident I know for a FACT that he's sticking up for you making sure you're heard and understood.

On another note, he really does love your voice, I mean he loves everything about You but your soft voice really does calm him in the best way.

It's a canon thing that children of Aphrodite have the most magical eyes and I know he can just absolutely lose himself in yours, he would definitely throw some compliments your way.

Speaking of insecurities and struggles, Percy has had his fair share of insecure moments and while he is more on the social side, he completely understands if you need to kinda take a break from people

and though he hasn't had younger siblings to take care of he is 100% there for you. (Yk how in the show he tells Annabeth to "Be A Kid" I think he would be like that for you too) He would want you to of course put yourself first, yes being there for your siblings is important but taking time for yourself is vital :)

And when you feel like your judgment may be clouded I think Percy knows how to balance that out well and be reasoning with you too

OOOh and the sense of humor, I know Percy has very witty and dry humor at times- I can picture you both throwing out line after line of sarcastic remarks trying to one up the other

He loves the banter you guys might have during quests you're both on or in camp on a regular morning during breakfast, he would just love to joke around with you

Following that earlier point I made- when you pressure yourself too much and sort of spiral, whether it's because of your parents or because of school, Percy is always there to reassure you, and while an 85 to you may be disappointing to him it deserves high, high praise.

I think he would try to work with you to not be so hard on yourself, like when you have to be there for your siblings, your parents, for school, and additionally for camp too??!! You need to just take a breather and he is totally up for that. He would be the first person at your cabin door knocking with some movie snacks (chocolate included) and be down for a binge watching session of your favorite anime or other comfort shows <3

BAKING- okay so, You and Percy bake one night at camp when you sneak into the kitchens after curfew. You came prepared with your hair tied back, apron on and ready. Percy on the other hand was in pajamas with his hair in his eyes but nonetheless was so excited to be there. You both get out your ingredients and when you begin making blue cupcakes. While you are practically a pro at this, Percy is getting batter on himself and on his workspace and while he's stirring some even flies into your hair. You yelp in surprise and flick some batter from your spoon onto his shirt, thus begins your blue-batter-food war. Safe to say you only had enough batter for a few cupcakes but you guys had fun regardless.

I see Percy's personality and yours meshing well together, especially your love languages, when you're a demigod you live a risky life so you're never sure if you'll make it back from a quest to your loved ones, because of this (Percy especially since he's a kid of the big 3) you and Percy make it a point to take a few days out of the weeks you're at camp to dedicate them to each other, he would love to just sneak you into his cabin and cuddle up on a cool night and just talk with you, (yk the meaningful convos people have late at night? thoseee) he would talk about anything with you, running his fingers through yours long hair, he would memorize every expression you make. He'd memorize everything about you to imagine to himself whenever he's a part from you

I hope you enjoyed the matchups ( I absolutely love the match up you gave me <3 )

*also lmk if you're interested in another matchup bc I equally see you with Jason and would love to write for you and him too :) *

Thank you!!

-Anna

[sevikasangel]

𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 ๑⁠˙⁠❥⁠˙- what would it be like to be asked to be their valentine?

including: vi, caitlyn, jinx, sevika.

— 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: fluff, f!reader, legal age gap, lowercase intended.

— 𝐚/𝐧: gotta love sweetheart aesthetic!

𝐯𝐢 ♡

you were a very close friend of vi's. you'd stuck around when she needed somebody the most. you were the only person she knew she could rely on ever since vander passed. no matter how many fights you had, how life treated you both, how many opposites against your friendship there seemed to be in the way. vi's feelings turned into something deeper a while ago. she realised she loved you after she had an awful day at work, and the only person she needed to see was you.

despite a recent fight you had over vi letting her stress get the best of her, she bought you your favorite fast food and a heart pin for your bag, you loved those accessories, she noted. you were surprised to see her sitting at your doorstep with some paperbags after you came back from work.

"cupcake, you're finally here...happy to see me? i...got you those fries and sandwich you like...with a cupcake! just like you... listen, i know i was bad to you and i said mean things. you can punch me in the face! go on! what you mean no? ok...then, forget the punching. (y/n)...(y/n). i don't know how to be lovey dovey and stuff but i am trying here. i like you. i really do. can i come in? we can eat this...and maybe i talk you into being my valentine."

𝐜𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐲𝐧 ♡

caitlyn slipped a lock of her long hair behind her ear as she anxiously tapped her foot against the wooden tiles of the hallway of your building. the enforcer sucked in a breath, glancing between the bouquet of white and red roses she'd ordered at the local flower shop. you both met at a local piltover festival while caitlyn was on duty. she helped you retrieve your stolen wallet and she'd been awestruck with you ever since. she knew you worked at a local cafe and she would always order her morning breakfast with you, sharing small conversations that meant a lot to her.

Caitlyn gathered enough courage to knock gently on your door. There is no turning back now, she thought to herself, as the monotonous sound of your footsteps began getting closer and closer until the knob turned, followed by the low creak of the door. And then your face emerged, your full body following. She couldn't help but smile. You were the most beautiful girl she'd ever seen.

"hello, (y/n). good afternoon! how are you? i am quite fine, too. better now, actually, after seeing you. oh, this bouquet? no, no, no, it isn't for me. i ordered it for you. i remember you told me you are fond of roses. they did remind me of you. so...would you like to go to the movies with me? amazing! and lastly...be my valentine, please."

𝐣𝐢𝐧𝐱 ♡

jinx spent the whole morning and afternoon preparing a surprise for you. she was your best friend, but the blue haired girl wanted to be so much more than that. she'd loved you for such a long time, but never felt courageous enough to ask you out. the voices would convince her that you would never feel the same for such a loser like her. but this time, after two years, she wouldn't waste another valentine away from the girl she loved.

she broke into your house while you were visiting your family and went straight into your bedroom to give you her gift and proposal: with her colour sprays and inventions, she painted your walls and drew on them with little doodles of hearts, adorable animals, you both in a beautiful garden...she also spread handmade gifts all over your room. your bed was covered in red dye with hearts and a monkey robot on top of it held a banner: "(y/n), i love you! be my valentine!"

"toots, ya finally came home! ya like your surprise!? don't look so dumbfounded, it's amazin'! it took me hoooours to finish. look at that lil spinning ballerina i made for ya! and the bed, so soft! aaaand...will you be my valentine!? i love ya, toots! i want you to be my girl and we will kaboom boom blah togetha'! wait...ya love me back! aaaaah, i told y'all, she is mine! now come lay on ya nice bed and we will cuddle, valentine!"

𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚 ♡

you were one of the girls who worked at babette's. though not as a stripper or a prostitute, you were a waitress, trying to make some money in order to survive in zaun. if you were lucky enough, you'd get some tips here and there from drunks who were hopeful to get under your pants. however, sevika was different. you felt no malice coming from her. silco's right hand woman was different from the men who could only see you as a piece of meat. she actually treated you with respect. the bare minimum, yes. but in zaun, the minimum was a lot.

sevika was fond of you. you were a woman who she felt something she couldn't quite get a grasp on towards. it was a weird sensation on her chest, seeing you. her heart would pump faster and she'd feel thrilled whenever you demonstrated to be impressed by a story she told. it wasn't that she didn't feel physically attracted to you. she did. oh, how she did...though it was more than that. and that persistent, unknown feeling annoyed her.

you were dead concerned when sevika showed up bruised and bloodied from a street fight with vi. she definitely didn't expect to have you on your stupid cupid costume at valentine's day to be patching her up and gently cleaning her wounds, inside a small spare room of the bar. the sounds of the muffled loud music and you humming to yourself were swirling around her head as she glanced at you, releasing a strained breath.

"listen, (y/n). i don't know how to do this shit and i think it's stupid, but be my valentine. that cupid costume would give me second hand embarrassment had it been in anyone else, but you look like an actual angel in that. what you laughing at? that isn't corny! i wanna take you on a date, but i am fucked up right now, doll. tomorrow i will pick you up at your place by seven o'clock, be ready. gonna take you somewhere nice, not this dump of drunks. you're special to me, really...i mean it. thanks for being here. you can always count on me too, sweetheart."

[heyheyheyhaikyu]

Lemon Cupcake

Coffee shop au

Bokuto x male reader

word count: 2.3k+

Owning a small cafe with only you and your parents was harder than you had expected. It was your parents dream to open a cafe and they had finally achieved it together. You agreed to help out after school when you’re free, but you didn’t think the shop's popularity would spike so quickly. It became a hot spot for kids at your school and with that added the stress of being recognized. While you had no problem with people knowing your family owned the cafe, you weren’t the type of person to seek out the attention of others. Instead you tried your best to simply blend in and go unnoticed altogether.

You noticed the oddly nice weather as you walked to work after school. You hoped it wouldn’t be too busy because people would stay out to enjoy the nice day, but luck was not on your side.

You entered the store with a sigh as you headed to the back to get changed. “Oh, y/n! Thank goodness you’re here. Go get changed and head out to help your mother,” your father directed as he worked on a cake. You simply nodded and did as you were told.

The line had finally died off from the after school rush and you took the opportunity to clean up. As you were wiping down tables you heard the chime of the bells that hung on the door, indicating a customer had just walked in. You looked up to see a boy from your school intensely looking at the menu board. You hadn’t ever talked to him, but you knew he was quite popular and the captain of the boys volleyball team.

You walked back behind the counter and greeted him with a soft smile. “Hi, I can help you when you’re ready.”

…

Bokuto had decided he would stop by the new cafe everyone in school was talking about after his practice. He didn’t particularly have a reason to, but figured it’d be fun. He invited Akaashi and some of his other teammates to go with him, but everyone declined, causing him to be a bit depressed.

Walking into the store he could immediately tell why everyone loved it so much. It was cozy and seemed like a good place to study with friends. He scanned the menu, unsure what he would like best. The greeting of what he assumed to be an employee brought him out of his thoughts. You absentmindedly twirled a pen in your hand as you waited patiently. Bokuto felt his chest tighten slightly at the sight of you. A light blush, basically unnoticeable, painted his cheeks as he looked away. “Um well… I’m not really sure what I like, so what’s your favorite?”

You blink at him for a moment, processing what he asked. “Oh, um…” you took a moment to think, realizing you hadn’t really tried much yet. “Honestly I’m not sure. I haven’t gotten the chance to try all that much since my parents decide on new flavors by themselves,” you said with a soft chuckle.

Bokuto tilted his head. “Oh, so you’re the owner's kid I assume?”

You nodded. “The one and only,” you joked with a grin. “A lot of people seem to like our lemon cupcakes if you’re interested in something sweet. And the iced coffees are also a fan favorite as well if that interests you.”

He nodded his head, glancing back at the menu for a moment. “How about you just make whatever your favorite is to make? Or whatever new concoction you can come up with,” he said excitedly. “And I’ll try a lemon cupcake too since you suggested it.”

You shrugged. “No promises the drink will turn out good, but if that’s what you want, I’ll do my best.” You gave him a thumbs up.

He smiled and waited, watching as you skillfully made his drink. Something about you drew him in without even trying. Maybe it was the timeless beauty to your features, or something unseen. Bokuto couldn’t place just one thing that attracted his attention. There was just something about you.

You finished up the drink and passed it to him along with a cupcake. “In all honesty, I’m not sure what I just made, but let me know what you think if you ever come in again,” you said with a smile.

“Will do. How much for these? I didn’t pay before so-“

“Don’t worry about it,” you cut him off. “Since it’s not a menu item and you just asked me to make anything, you can have it for free. You could always just come back again and that would be payment enough,” you said with a smile.

His chest felt tight again as you smiled at him, making him a bit flustered. “Are you sure? Would your parents be okay with you giving out free stuff to a stranger?”

You laughed quietly. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them too bad. Plus, even if you don’t know me, I definitely know you, Bokuto Kōtarō,” you said with a wink.

He blushed more visibly this time which just made you grin. “I- uh… okay.” He ran a hand through his hair with a light chuckle to clear his thoughts. “I’ll be sure to stop by again and let you know how it was,” he said as he gave a small wave and headed out. You watched as he disappeared out of the shop, unable to stop the light blush painting your cheeks.

…

Since you met Bokuto at your family's shop it was like the boy was everywhere. You saw him in the halls, at lunch, at the convenience store, literally everywhere you went he managed to be there too. He didn’t seem to notice you though, so you were thankful for that.

He had stopped by the cafe a few times, but it was always on your days off. Your parents would tell you all about how disappointed he would get when they told him you weren’t there. Your parents knew you liked boys and were supportive no matter what, so they didn’t let the opportunity pass with the teasing. “So y/n,” your mother said with a mischievous tone to her voice. “Who’s that boy with the black and white hair that’s always asking about you when he comes in to get a cupcake?” She asked with a raised brow.

You rolled your eyes as you put your apron on. “I’ve already told you I don’t actually know him. He’s just a guy from my school, but I don’t think he actually knows that.”

“Oh come on, honey. He seems like such a sweetie,” she said with a smirk. “Cute too. You’d make quite the handsome couple.” She winked and shot you an approving thumbs up. You groaned and left to go work in the front.

Weekends were oddly mostly slower, seemingly because people were out of school and work. You couldn’t complain. It made for easy work most of the time. You normally helped with pastry making, but today you decided to run the front while your parents did all the back work.

It was slow all day, only seeing a few customers, but as you were making yourself a random concoction of a drink, the chime of bells rang through the shop. “Welcome in! I’ll be with you in just a moment,” you said without looking up to see who or how many people walked in. You could tell from the noise they brought with them it was a large group of boys. Once you were done with your drink you looked to see the entirety of the fukurodani academy boys volleyball team. You were more than a little shocked to say the least.

“Did you guys just come from a game?” You asked no one in particular.

They all quietly looked at you before Akaashi stepped forward from behind everyone. “Just a practice match actually.”

You nodded. Akaashi was in your class and you had talked a few times before, but you forgot he was also on the volleyball team. As you glanced around trying to find Bokuto, you heard the bells on the door chime again. And there he was, the boy plaguing your thoughts on the daily. Your eyes met his and he quickly rushed up to greet you.

“Hi! I’ve been trying to catch you while you’re working, but always manage to miss you,” he almost whined.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Miss me that much, huh? Or was it the drink,” you asked in a teasing tone.

He smiled proudly. “The drink you made me was amazing, but I was actually more curious to know how you knew me. I know I kinda rushed out and all, but I’ve been wondering ever since,” he explained as the rest of the team quietly observed.

Akaashi let out a disappointed sigh as he rubbed his temples in annoyance. “Bokuto, he goes to our school and he’s literally in my class. Of course he knows who you are,” Akaashi stated with an apologetic glance at you.

You couldn’t help but laugh and the group of boys behind them joined in as well. Bokuto just stood there staring at you in disbelief. “Man, if I had known someone so attractive and cool went to our school I totally would’ve asked you out ages ago!” He shamelessly admitted with a grin.

Everyone went silent and stared at him in shock. The team knew he was bold, but that was a whole new level.

“I- uh- excuse me?” You looked around at everyone for confirmation of what you’d just heard. They all shrugged, also unable to believe what their captain had just said.

“What? Why’s everyone totally freaked? I didn’t say anything wrong,” he huffed, crossing his arms.

“It’s not that we think what you said was wrong, it was just unexpected. Look at y/n. I think he short circuited,” Akaashi pointed out. You just stood frozen in place, blinking occasionally.

You heard a crash from the back and snapped out of it, knowing full well your parents were eavesdropping. You gently clapped your hand over your face with a sigh. “Okay, okay, let’s talk about that later, alright Bokuto? I’m technically working right now anyways, so what do you guys want?” The team all ordered and you made all the drinks, but Bokuto hadn’t gone yet. “So, what’ll it be for you?” You asked with a small smile.

“Are you on the menu?” He smirked, leaning against the counter.

You rolled your eyes and pushed his face away. “Not at this moment, no, but maybe in the future if you play your cards right.”

The way his face lit up reminded you of a puppy, if you didn’t know any better, you’d say you could literally see the tail wagging. “Alright then I’ll definitely have a lemon cupcake. And how about that drink you made before? Have any idea what it was?”

“I could probably figure it out,” you said with a confident smile and thumbs up. After a moment you handed him his drink with your number, name, and a winky face ;) written on the cup. “Hopefully it’s close enough to still be good.”

After they talked and hung out for a while they all said their goodbyes and left.

…

Bokuto began to notice you more and more as you started talking. Taking note of all the times you passed each other in the halls and even making an effort to invite you to eat lunch with him and his friends. You had gotten to know him better and couldn’t help but remember the words he had said about you at the cafe. Did he really think you were all that? Compared to him you were nothing special. He was so amazing and to think he even liked talking to you was hard to accept.

“Y/n, you’re spacing out. Is everything okay?” He gently touched your arm to get your attention.

You shook out of your thoughts as you looked at him. “Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking about something,” you said, offering him a small smile.

He frowned. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No, it was stupid. No need to worry.” You pat his shoulder, trying your best to get him to let it go. He just pouted, crossing his arms with a huff. He was such a child sometimes. Cute.

“I just wanna know how to help cheer you up,” he whined.

“I was thinking about what you said at the cafe that one time. About finding me attractive and such. I don’t know, I just find it hard to believe, you, someone literally so many people would love to be, could possibly be interested in someone like me at all.” You shrugged. “Stupid, I know.”

He swung his arm around you and pulled you close. “There’s no one else that could compare to you, n/n. I mean it when I say it too. The more I’ve gotten to know you, the more I believe that. You’re perfect in all the right ways and I genuinely, wholeheartedly, like you so much. Much more than I could ever express through words,” he said quietly into your ear.

A dark blush flushed your features as you listened to his words. Even if you didn’t know how to believe his words, you couldn’t ignore the feelings you had. You looked at him before quickly planting a kiss on his cheek. “How about we go out and you show me how much you like me then,” you whispered in his ear with a smirk.

“I’d like that a lot,” he said excitedly with a flustered blush before pulling you into a tight hug and kissing the top of your head happily, not caring about anyone or anything else around for once.

A/N: I fr don’t know what this is, so don’t ask🤡

[darlingshane]

Greetings from Boston

Michael Berzatto x GN!Reader

Rating: T // Content/Warnings: Bars, Drinking, Eating, Swearing, Fluff, Crack, Making Out, Old Friends, Pet Names.

WC: 2,105

Summary: You haven't seen Michael in six years. One night, after moving back to Chicago, you see him in a bar and spend the night out together.

-- Read below or at AO3.

You've wondered for years how different your life would be if you and Michael had pursued your five-minute affair for longer than that. If there was anything you regretted, after moving back to Boston, it was that. You weren't in love with the other, cause you never got enough time to build up something deeper. And when the day came, it felt really easy at the time to pack, and get on with the rest of your life like nothing ever happened.

You got a job in your hometown. He stayed in Chicago, managing the restaurant he had just inherited from his parents.

You were celebrating a friend's birthday in a lounge when you went over to the bar to get more drinks and were taken aback by his handsome profile. He was talking with his, always right hand, and best friend, Richie, you recognized, and a couple of more people that you didn't know.

It had been close to six years since you last saw him during that night of passion you shared together before leaving, just to say goodbye. It was also probably one of the best nights of your life. It stayed with you clearly. And  what you felt during that brief time you were with him, came back to you the moment you saw him there.

He wouldn't remember you. Would he? You thought, and hesitated whether to say something or not. You lost touch quickly after you went away.  Besides a few calls and texts exchanged, and a couple of postcards sent during the first month, you both got busy with your lives, and eventually he became just a number in your contacts.

His back was turned to you. The music was loud, but his voice was louder, and it made you smile to yourself hearing it when you leaned on the edge of the bar and waved at the bartender.

Instead of tapping on his shoulder and interrupting his story, trying to see if he remembered you, when you placed the order for your drinks, you added a beer, and asked the bartender to send it his way.

It kind of an old move, you believed, but you were too chicken shit to do anything else at the moment.

You went back to your table, sat, grabbed another chocolate cupcake from the tray, and stuffed your mouth with it, waiting to see what happened…

The lovely bartender did as you told her and pointed in your direction after serving the drink. Suddenly his eyes were on you. You swallowed and nodded timidly, still unsure if he had recognized you or not.

It might have taken him a moment, but he did. He said something to Richie and walked up to your table with his new beer bottle in hand.

“Hey, Boston. Long time…” he trailed off when noticing your friends staring at him. His mouth turned into a bashful smile, pressing his teeth on his bottom lip.

You almost melted into a puddle, and barely could keep your cool, saying back, “Hey. Having a good night?”

“Just got better. I appreciate the beer,” he tilted the bottle up to his lips, and took a sip in your honor.

You simply nodded again, unable to think of anything else to say, despite the million questions you had in your head. You kept staring at him like an idiot, blinded by how attractive he was. You were the epitome of shallowness at that moment, and you couldn't deny it. Sure, you'd say his charm and shameless wit was you liked, but deep down, only you knew that the first thing that drew you to him was his rough handsome features and the sturdy, broad shape of his body.

“You guys should join us,” one of your friends said, throwing you a lifeline.

“Yeah, definitely,” you smiled at him.

He was certainly just as surprised as you were to have found the other again, but took her offer, and after joining the two parties you were both eyeing each other for a while before easing up into the conversation.

It had been a long time since you stayed up that late, and it was because of him only. This was going to hurt in the morning, and you didn't care.

After leaving the bar past 3AM, some of your friends went home. The rest of you wandered through the streets, ending up in a very crowded club, dancing the rest of the night.

He didn't dare to join you on the dance floor, even after you asked, but you could feel his eyes glued to you.

You caught up some with what you both had been up to, but none of the important questions were asked yet. So there was no way for you to know if he was single. He had no ring on his finger, but not everyone wears them. All you knew is that you suddenly were so euphoric from the music, the couple of drinks you had, and all the fun of being back here, that all you wanted to kiss him. You would have if you knew, but alas you didn't… yet.

Now, here you are, sitting on the counter of his kitchen at 7AM, after he invited you for breakfast to cure the hangover. You weren't hungover really, but you were ravenous after eating nothing since those sweet cupcakes.

You look to the side, and through the door ajar, you see Richie on the couch talking and laughing with one of your friends he clicked with.

Both of you stay in silence, hearing your friends laugh and have a good time.

Your stomach was already protesting before having your nose trespassed by the delicious smell of bacon cooking on the cast iron, now it’s furious, and it’s seriously begging to get some of it inside, pronto.

“Can I have one now?” you ask, seeing him transfer the cooked bacon strips to a clean plate.

“In a minute.”

“Michael,” you sigh, “if you don't give me some food now, I'm gonna eat your cabinets. That's how hungry I am.”

He chuckles and glances at you over his shoulder, “I’m almost done, I promise.”

You extend your hand enough to reach the fridge to see if he has at least something to drink in the meantime. You grab a bottle of juice, and when you close the door you notice something stuck to it with a magnet, you hadn't paid attention before– A postcard that says: Greetings from Boston. Mass.

It can’t be. Could it? You carefully pick it up and turn it around to see your own handwriting on it on a simple, brief message that reads: I miss you, Bear. That’s how you used to call him. Taken from his last name. It feels like you wrote that in a different lifetime. Did you have more feelings for him than you initially thought? Probably. You run in your head what happened for you to stop calling or texting. Or was it him the one who stopped? All the events lead you to decipher that it was pretty mutual. One day you just didn’t with no explanation. At least that’s what you believe, maybe he has another explanation for it.

“You kept this?” You utter and he turns to look at you.

“Yeah. Are you surprised I did?”

“A little.” You shrug, “earlier… I thought you wouldn’t recognize me.”

“C’mon. You don’t really believe that… I know we never had a real relationship, whatever that is… but you meant a lot to me.”

“So, what happened?”

“You left,” he crosses his arms, and leans on the breakfast bar.

“And after that?”

“Life happened… you had a new job, I had my own set of problems… and we both moved on.”

“You call this moving on?” you utter, showing him the postcard again.

“I mean, I tried.”

“So, there’s nobody else in your life?”

“Sweetie, you wouldn’t be here if I had anybody else. I’ve dated, sure… but,” he finishes his sentence with a shrug, getting interrupted by Richie who flies through the kitchen, grabbing a plate, and filling it with food.

“Don’t mind us. We’ll be in the room for a while, if you know what I mean… ” he grins like an asshole who is about to get laid.

“He lives with you?” you ask Michael, when Richie’s out.

“Uh-uh. He’s just staying here for a few weeks. Had a mold problem in his building.”

You swallow and ask for a glass to have some of that juice before you pass out.

“Oh, no… I’m sorry. Let’s get some food in you.”

Without moving from your spot on the counter, he hands you a plate and a glass, and you enjoy your breakfast with him, chatting some more.

“I take it you’re not seeing anybody either?” he’s the one asking now.

You shake your head, “I almost got married a year ago.”

“Shit, for real?”

“For real.”

“Did you leave him at the altar or did he?”

“Pfff, no. Luckily, it didn’t get as far as that. Found out they were cheating on me before that, and that was the end of it. Kinda… we used to work together and seeing them every day drove me nuts. I knew they weren’t going anywhere… and when I saw there was an opening in our branch here, I put in for a transfer.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“No, you’re not,” your lips pull up at the corners.

“You got me… How long have you been here?”

“A month.”

“You’re staying for good?”

“I think so…” you pause and drink some of your juice, “you wanna go out later for coffee or something?”

“Why? Do you wanna pick it out where we left off?”

“No, asshole. I just wanna hang out.”

“I gotta work, but we can hang out here… you don’t have to go right away, do you?”

You’re utterly spent, but you don’t want this day to end, not just yet, “I guess I can stay for a while.”

You smile at each other and all of a sudden you hear music being loudly played from one of the rooms.

“I’m so sorry about that,” he laughs, and moves quickly to cover your ears, “he does it every time he has sex.”

“Wow, he works quickly.”

“Is that a dig at me?” and he tilts his head to the side, displaying a fake offense at your words.

“What? Uh-uh… not at all,” his palms are still on your ears, and you grab his wrists to move them away.

Then, you find yourself weaving your fingers with his, over your lap, as his expression changes.

You can tell he wants to kiss you. And you wanna kiss him too… and after a long five seconds, It’s you who makes the move.

You draw some air and lean forwards, pressing one at the corner of his lips, and a second one in the middle. His mouth parts, inviting you to go deeper, and with ease and a lot of sweetness you lock your lips together, getting acquainted with his mouth once again. As it gradually intensifies, you break the link of your fingers, and as your arms circle his neck, he curls his around your waist.

You wish something else was playing in the background, but it doesn’t really matter, cause you’re only going to remember the way his tongue tastes and moves around your mouth.

Your legs part wider, having him pressing himself against you. The sensation makes you dizzy and feels terribly amazing. You want to capture the warmth of his naked body against you, badly, but you’re not ready for it yet.

It’s hard to think properly at this hour, but you do, and without warning– you pull back slightly from his mouth, and lean your forehead on his.

“I don’t wanna have sex…” you confess with a small voice, momentarily regretting of saying that out loud, “not yet at least. Not like this.”

“‘S okay, we don’t have to, sweetheart,” he swipes your lips with his thumb.

“I mean, I want to, but I’m just really tired right now. Do you want to?”

“I do, baby… so much,” he clears his throat, “whenever you’re ready, I’m here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Can we lie down for a bit, though?”

He nods, promptly picks you up from the counter, and carries you to the couch.

After placing you down gently, you both kick your shoes off, and let him spoon you. He plays with your hair, whispers in your ear, lulling you slowly to fall asleep.

[coulsons-fullmetal-cellist]

And the award goes to...

A Love of Horror drabble

Check out masterlist here

Dieter was awoken when a bomb fell on his bed. Okay, the bomb was actually a toddler jumping on his bed.

“Daddy! Daddy!”

Once he rubbed the sleep from his eyes he went into stealth mode by grabbing his daughter and counterattacked with tickles.

“Morning cupcake”

You walked in to witness this measure of adorable warfare.

“Clara, I thought we were going to let daddy sleep in”

“But present”

“Present?” Dieter asked, “Who’s getting a present?”

“You!” squeaked Clara.

“I’m getting a present?” your husband looked at you in confusion, “Why?”

“Father’s Day”

“That’s today?”

You nodded, “I was hoping to bring you  breakfast in bed but someone got a little too excited.” You grabbed the little feet of the guilty offender, “A naughty little velociraptor.”

“I can have breakfast out with you.”

“You sure?”

“Probably be less messy” he said looking at the giggling girl.

“Good point.”

Dieter got out of bed and flung the naughty little velociraptor over his shoulders and danced out the room.

*****

Breakfast was certainly a less messy affair when not eating off a bouncy surface.

“Present?”

“Breakfast first”

Clara pouted the same way her father did. Thankfully you had the same immunity to those puppy dog eyes.

“Mummy is right, breakfast first. Or I’ll have to eat you” he playfully bit at her arm, making another eruption of giggles happen.

Thankfully both were well behaved while eating. Once the plates were cleared away, you gestured to the toddler who was bursting with anticipation.

“Go get daddy’s present.”

She shot off like a rocket to the box sitting on the coffee table. Dieter grabbed it as she basically threw it into his lap.

“Oh, I wonder what it is”, he made a big show for his daughter; shaking it, guessing what was inside and then opening it. Clara was being held back to allow your husband to enjoy the moment. He rifled through the packaging and pulled out an unusual object.

A doll of unsure origin was Frankensteined with small plastic flowers, sprayed gold and placed on a plastic base.

“Award!” Clara squeed.

“Award?” she gestured to the shelf filled with Dieter’s various acting awards. He gave an ‘oh’ of understanding.

“Clara felt you needed another award, so she made this for you.”

“You made this?” he drew the nodding toddler into his open arm for a kiss and cuddle.

“I swear we went up every aisle of the toy store to find the perfect doll.”

He looked at the gold figure. “And which one did she choose?”

“Beetlejuice.”

“Of course, she takes after you.”

Clara’s tiny hands gestured to the base of the homemade award statuette, “Read!”

He squinted at the words written in glittering lettering at the base, “Let’s see: Award Best Dad.”

Dieter kissed the top of his daughters head and snuffled her curly head to hide his forming tears.

“Best award ever.”

[gothicbarbie]

MY TOP 20 BL SERIES OF 2022

1. Love Mechanics [thai]

Overall just very well done series. The drama wasn't too silly or frustrating, it had nice kissing scenes and storylines, and YinWar's chemistry is getting better and better which each series they do. I really enjoyed it.

2. Semantic Error [korea]

Love the manga too and thought the tv depiction was nicely done. A bit less racey but that's expected. Korean BL's are my favorite and they are getting better each year. The chemistry bewteen the actors was great too. Plus I just enjoyed the storyline a lot.

3. Not Me [thai]

OMG I loved this one so much. One of Thailand's best imo. I've always liked offgun but this was the series that really pulled me in. They grew so much doing this one and felt more comfortable with each other. Overall, the storyline was just well done and really drew me in, I really loved it more than I was expecting to!

4. Blueming [korea]

Korea does it again. Seriously well done drama, loved the scenerery. I think the chemistry was nice, not my absolute favorite ever, but it was a very cute watch and the love scene was really well done!

5. Minato's Laundromat [japan]

My favorite Japan BL this year. I really liked the chemistry between the leads and the storyline. There were so many adorable scenes and moments and the ending kiss was so cute. Loved it.

6. Cherry Blossoms After Winter [Korea]

Another great Korean drama that first came from a Manga. The manga is definitely worth checking out, its super cute and the adaptation was well done. Not the best chemistry of all time but it was still very nicely done.

7. Old Fashion Cupcake [japan]

There were a few things about this one that threw me off a bit but overall it was a very enjoyable and fun series, I liked the dynamic of the mains, I enjoyed the premise and I liked that they were a bit older too. It was fun.

8. Love is in the Air [thai]

Cheesey at times and not the best story, could be a bit over dramatic, but the chemistry between the main two pairings is what really kept me interested. I love boths ships and the love scenes in this one were... um.... WOW. That's all. lol.

9. Kinnporsche [thai]

Extremly hot series, great production value, love the acting and premise, the dark/gritty vibe of the series was refreshing to watch. I really enjoy BL's with darker storylines. This seires was definitely more humorous than I was expecting. There were some awkward moments and I started losing a tad bit of interest near the end but the earlier episodes were so fun to watch.

10. Mr. Unlucky Has No Choice but to Kiss [japan]

Japan has some adorable ass BL's, that's for sure, and like SK, they are getting better and better too. This one was just utter adorableness? I really loved it. I found the premise to be super funny and cute. There were def. some weird bits and the kisses could have been better, but oh well.

11. Till the World Ends [thai]

Haven't seen the finale yet, but I found this series very fun and enjoyable. The premise was pretty unique and it just kept me very entertained from beginning to end.

12. My Only 12% [thai]

I LOVED this series in the beginning but the last two episodes were a bit odd with some random drama. I will say that the chemistry between santaearth was SPOT ON in this series. Santa in particular is just utterly adorable! The love scene and close moments were so well done.

13. Choco Milk Shake [korea]

The story was a bit dorky/over the top imo but it was still enjoyable and really cute to watch. I was hoping for more of a poly type thing I guess, but I'll take it for what it was.

14. Star in my Mind [thai]

Okay, so I admit, the storyline wasn't great, but I just adore joongdunk so I am a bit biased. The starting episodes were so good and then it kinda fell flat for me but I did enjoy the series. The side series was decent too. I'm stoked for the new series with these two cuz I think it'll be even better.

15. Kissable Lips [korea]

Vampires, check. Attractive leads, check. Chemistry, check. I love Korean BL's (have I mentioned that) but sadly, the series as a whole was just too short and felt kinda unfinished. Plus the ending not being very happy imo brought it down a tad. But love these two actors together. They were greaat in their other series as well. But I found this one to be a bit more intriguing.

16. Big Dragon [thai]

Chemistry between the leads was the best thing about the series. I also enjoyed the side ship. I thought the series kinda dropped off at the end I didn't enjoy the ending episodes but the earlier ones were really fun to watch and I am excited for season 2.

17. Senpai, This Can't Be Love [japan]

Another cute series from Japan. Not the best of the bunch but I liked the easy, nice, office setting and storyline.

18. Roommates of Poongduck 304 [korea]

Also cute, light, and enjoyable to watch. Not a whole lot else to say. If you haven't seen the behind the scenes kiss though GO DO IT. Best kiss ever?

19. Cutie Pie [thai]

ZeeNunew are just too cute together. Overall, the story kind of dragged in this one but the love scenes kinda made up for it? Shallow I guess lol.

20. Eternal Yesterday [japan]

This one started out strong, and I liked the chemistry between the two. But I didn't love the entire premise of the series. Ghost storylines aren't really my thing and I just knew it was going to end sad, so I couldn't get that invested in it.

Honorable Mentions:

Ghost Host, Ghost House [thai] - I can't rank this one because I've only seen 2 eps. I am enjoying it a lot so far. I didnt watch initially cuz the premise seemed odd but I kinda like how they are doing it and I am excited to watch more episodes.

Miracle of Teddy Bear [Thai] - Weird premise, but I am enjoying it so far. Not worthy of the top 20, I think the episodes are too long and frankly, the one guy constantly yelling and being awful is hard to watch, but I hope the last 6 episodes are decent. I think the concept is unique and the chemistry between the two is nice.

Check Out the Series [Thai] - Have only seen 2 episodes and its okay so far. The chemistry is good, but the plot is a bit slow for me, hope it picks up later. But can't quite judge it yet.

His Man [Korea] - Tehcnically this is not a BL but a reality series in Korea about young gay men trying to find love matches. It was SO good, if anyone is interested, definitely check it out. It was just cute, especially because the relationships were real. The pairing that ended up together at the end was my favorite from day 1, so I was happy. Hope they do a season 2!

Enchante [thai] - I got a bit bored of this series by the end of it but it was still very fun to watch. The storyline went a bit wonky in the end but it was okay. I did like the chemistry between the main two. Excited to see them in their other series later in 2023.

Color Rush 2 [Korea] - Season 2 didnt comprae to season 1, especially with the casting change, but I still enjoyed it. I like this universe and the storyline and the new ship was decent.

My Tooth Your Love [taiwan] - This list tells me that Taiwan needs to step up their BL game! After History and We Best Love (my favorite BL OF ALL TIME!) They haven't had many series I have loved. This one was the best this year. A few others this year were decent but I want more! Overall this series was nicely done. I enjoyed the early episodes a bit better.

Takara-Kun to Amagi-kun [japan] - I didn't seem to enjoy this one as much as other people seemed to. I think maybe I found the dialogue/translations to be a bit off/awkward? Not sure. I loved the dynamic of the main two characters the most, but I prefered some other Japanese BL's. But it was a fun watch.

Secret Crush on You [thai] - This show was so cringey at times, and the storyline was just overall a bit weird, but it was like a trainwreck that I coudln't stop watching and the chemsitry between the main two is just good... so, at least there was that.

Love Class [korea] - Honestly don't rememebr this series well enough to give a proper ranking but I think I enjoyed it haha.

Once Again [korea] - See above. I think this was the one about time travel? It was good, but didn't capture me like other Korean BLs normally do.

Plus and Minus [taiwan] - A tad less interesting than My Tooth Your Love, but more interesting than For Youth lol. The main actors dating in real life is HELLA ADORABLE THO.

Mr. Cinderella [vietnam] - The only Vietnamese BL to make the list. Bless the one company and actor who continue to release drama's for us. Sadly, I dont enjoy most of them as they feel a bit cheesey and unprofessional. This series though, I enjoyed the most so far.

The Eclipse [thai] - People love this series, but for me, it was just okay. It had nice moments and nice chemistry but overall I didnt love the storyline. Sorry friends! Excited for the new series with the main two though.

I did watch quite a few more BL's that didn't make my list, so it's possible I forgot something, but either they weren't that memorable or they were just okay for me. Some of the series I watched in 2022 came out earlier than 2022. So I didn't include them even if I watched them this year.

Here are the BL's I REALLY didn't enjoy. I can elaborate if anyone is interested...

Tuxedo The Series - enjoyed the chemsitry of the main two but the abuse I just couldn't look past. And the storyline fell flat.

To My Star 2 - Loved part 1, it's one of my fav. bls of all time but I hated what they did in season 2. They completely ruined one of the characters for me and I just couldn't get past it, despite their hot makeout at the end lol.

180 Degress Longitude Between Us - I admit, parts were well done, but I found it utterly boring 90% of the time and I didnt enjoy the relationship between the two, I found the age difference a bit off putting. IDK, something about the story just didn't grab me.

Fahlanruk the Series - So bad. Started out fine, but the constant abuse and yelling was just too damn much for me. I couldn't get into it.

Oh My Assisant- Worst korean bl I've seen so far. The SL was just so flat and the ending was really lame. I am sorry, this was a bust for me.

I am currently watching My School President and Never Let Me Go and OBSESSSING over them. So good and cute so far. I'm also enjoying Candy Color Paradox, The New Employee and The Director Who Buys me Dinner... all super fun and cant wait to see more eps as well as more dramas in 2023!

I will probably go back through shows from 2021 and make a list there as well since that is when I started watching BL. I will also make a list from my fav shows that were released prior to 2021 just for the fun of it!

Also check out my lists from other years! https://gothicbarbie.tumblr.com/post/705678223200174080/my-top-bls-of-2019-and-earlier https://gothicbarbie.tumblr.com/post/705674738528354304/my-top-15-bls-of-2020

https://gothicbarbie.tumblr.com/post/705227666795741184/my-top-15-bl-series-of-2021

[shimmerbeasts]

A Miscommunication Issue

"You know you don't have to go down there by yourself."

Vi forced her gaze away from the snapshot photograph, she had been staring at for the last couple of minutes. It did not seem to be anything special; just a picture of graffiti on a wall. Yet where most people would merely see the child-like and crude drawings of a tiger and a cheetah, pulling at the ears and legs of a stuffed bunny with bloodied muzzles, Vi saw a secret message. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, even as 'Jinx', Vi understood her sister Powder better than most.

Folding up the photograph, Vi slotted it into her striped pants pocket and finally looked at Caitlyn before she spoke: "I know, Caitlyn, but I really do not think that this would facilitate much. If anything, Powder would only grow more suspicious if you were present, and well, the only other person who knows what this could mean is currently in Zaun ... I think."

As Vi looked away briefly upon her voiced doubts, Caitlyn pressured softly: "Am I reading this right, and you have not even spoken to Ran? Vi, she has been in my house for several months now. She is my sister, and you cannot keep avoiding her." The detective stepped closer and took Vi's hands in her own. Her gaze was caring and loving, but also stern with worry. "Tiger, what are you not telling me?"

Vi sighed and confessed: "The last time, Ran and I met, we tried to kill each other. I, ehm, I punched them off a bridge. They worked for Silco when we returned to the Lanes. I doubt they wanna see me, much less help me." She tapped her fingers against her thighs. "But I need them to understand why Powder drew them on the wall. Ran's a cheetah. I remember their smell."

Caitlyn stepped closer and placed a hand on Vi's shoulder as she asked: "Were you two... mates?"

"No, I don't think so. I mean, we fooled around once or twice, but no, I do not think that makes us mates."

Vi peered back down into the labyrinth of streets and darkened houses. She hated having to go back down there! She hated it because it reminded her of everything, she had tried to escape from so much. She hated it because instead of being Vi, Zaun almost always facilitated her slipping into Pink or Nemisis as this was just the safer bargain. And it got her results. Vi hated that it got her results faster than just being her true self ever could!

Caitlyn tugged some of her dark hair behind her ear. She implored once more: "Are you sure you do not want me to come along as at least backup? You loathe going down to Zaun, and you know I never mind covering for you."

"I know." Vi boxed Caitlyn in the side teasingly, who smiled back. "And I really appreciate you for it." Her expression turned serious again. "But I am afraid, I have to do this alone. I cannot afford to wait for Ran to come back from her trip. I have to find her and I can do this more efficiently if I travel alone. Do you think you could keep the Enforcers off my back until I have a clearer understanding of that picture?"

"Of course, Vi." A bemused twinkle entered Caitlyn's crystal blue eyes. "The officers will have the longest and most pointless interrogation in history. So you are gonna be fine. But be careful too, alright? I don't need you coming home with the other half of your face slashed to pieces."

Vi made a show of rolling her eyes in exasperation. "Yes, Mum!", she jested back. She then crossed the distance one last time and gave Caitlyn an affectionate kiss on the cheek, face softening in earnest. "You are the best. I owe you one, Cupcake." And with these words, Vi pulled up her hood and leapt off the wall down into the labyrinth of misery and decay.

It was eerie how quickly Vi could adjust her behaviour, the moment she set foot into the streets of the Lanes. Zaun had always been an unforgiven environment, even for those living in its carnivorous belly, however, it was extra ruthless towards any outsiders. While Vi was not a de facto outsider, as she was a Zaunite like anybody else, she still knew that her moving to Piltover, would not be welcomed with open arms. Furthermore, the Lanes were now Sevika's territory and judging by how the older woman had treated her the last time, she had tried to invade, Vi better make this trip as short and efficient as possible.

This also meant Vi could not really go around looking for Ran the normal way. No, she had to use another pair of eyes to find her. And luckily, Vi knew exactly where to hire an additional pair of eyes and a set of quick legs. The market street in the Lanes was not just full of stands, offering their goods and services, but children flitted between the adults, going about their day. Shop owners roared in anger whenever one of these urchins knacked a slice of meat or some sardine from a hook. However, few men actually bothered running after the children. They had their uses as any filthy scavenger did. After all, as frustrating as ravens were, they still could fly.

Her shoulders rocked in the sway of her steps. Vi marched through the market street, each footfall carrying the weight of intimidation and power behind it. While her hood covered most of her face, Vi refused to look up, forcing the cluster of people to part and give her way. A few angry drunkards whistled abrasively after her, however, most fell back into an alcohol-fuelled stupor. The children scampered away from her, eyes locked onto her in awe and fear. Some whispered behind held-up hands into their compatriots' ears.

"Is that Nemesis or one of her informants?"

"I dunno. Maybe."

"Keep an eye on the roofs. Headhunter could be lurking by."

Vi paid them no mind and instead slipped onto a stool at a familiar stall. The smell of roasting fishes and tentacles in boiling pots tickled her nose. Before Vi stood a large, broad Vastaya, covered from head to toe in the scales of a fish. His teeth were pointy and greying. Fins flicked upon his cheeks and wiggled where his ears would be. Yellow eyes glared at the hooded figure and Jericho spoke something in his Vastayan accent.

"Not tonight, Jericho", Vi told him, "Just make me a bowl of whatever broth, you currently have. Fish broth!" She warningly raised a finger and glared at him from underneath her hood. "Keep that other house meat far away from me."

Jericho shrugged, grunted offhandedly and waved a meaty paw. He busied himself with pouring Vi a stew of trout and gravy into a bowl. Vi meanwhile looked around the street before she whistled at one of the urchins: "Hey, you! Get over here!"

Once the boy stopped before her and asked what she wanted, Vi reached into her pocket and pulled out a gold coin. Caitlyn was already swimming in money and Nemesis was too cut-throat to not make use of that fact. Vi offered the coin to the street urchin and said: "I need you to find someone for me. Tall, pale skin, dark hair, preferably dressed in white leather. Should be part of this territory. Goes by Ran. Tell them that an old friend needs to speak with them and it is urgent. Can you do that?"

The urchin nodded; and Vi dropped the coin into his hand and said: "Off you pop." The boy admired the gold coin in awe before he looked at her with a shudder of fear. Only very powerful Zaunites carried gold in their pockets. The boy whispered: "Nemesis" under his breath, gulped in terror and shoved the coin in his pocket. He booked it in search of Ran. Vi turned towards the bowl of food.

Now, all she had to do, was wait.

@playgroundmonsters

[opheliajupiter99]

(Making this because I was bored/having a rough week and have been really interested in the MLP infection au stuff I've seen going around, pun intended. I adored reading MLP horror shit as a kid, and I'm so glad the trend's coming back around. I know this isn't the best, and I don't wanna rush myself, so I just drew one picture for now. Let me know if you guys like it!)

Pinkie Pie came up with a whole new cupcake recipe, using some tasty looking fruits she found on a morning stroll. Unbeknownst to her, said fruits were infested with the eggs of a currently unknown parasitic insect. Ever the diligent baker, she made a baker's dozen and tried the first cupcake herself.

Now infested and delirious, she plans to host a party where she'll serve these 'special' cupcakes to everyone she can. Mr. and Mrs. Cake and their twins are on a vacation, for some much-needed rest and relaxation, so currently, nothing stands between Pinkie and this goal, Ponyville entirely unaware of the situation.

(And before you ask, no I'm not quite sure when in the timeline this'll take place, I'm still working on the kinks, this post is essentially self-medication for me so who knows if this'll even get off the ground lol.)