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#hi its me chewy
pomfiores · 11 months
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we don’t celebrate 4th of july. we celebrate my beloved mister binx because that’s his birthday.  write that down ty.
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absolutebl · 4 months
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Best & Worst BLs of 2023
My Top 15 BLs of 2023 are (in order)
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1 Our Dating Sim
Korea Viki
Nerds in love, deadlines, gaming, teasing, pining tiny idiots, casual affection, linguistic oops, ADORABLE. If you haven't watched this, it's a must. A perfect short form KBL, an office set reunion romance featuring geeks that really suits 8 eps with no fluff and no chaff. Just comforting and yummy.
I adored every aspect from the casting to the pristinely simple premise to the quietly smooth execution. Sure it’s low stakes, but that makes it high domesticity and extremely warm and gentle. This is a fuzzy blanket of a story - a cozy BL. It lives in my rewatch pile and you know what’s best about it? Every single episode is in that pile. There’s no skipping with this one, it might be good natured and calmly sweet but it’s tight and the pacing is excellent.
Also recieves my 2023 award for best giggle.
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2 I Cannot Reach You
AKA I Can't Reach You AKA Kimi ni wa Todokanai
Japan Netflix
This classic friends-to-lovers BL is everything Japan does best. Angsty. Emo. Aching. Driven by real thirst. Yamato is deeply in love with his childhood bestie, Kakeru, and has been for ages, unable to hide his ungainly damaging high school need. He wants Kakeru in every way possible and it oozes off of the screen.
Kakeru is silly and a little simple, but not frenetic or overly camp about it. He is earnest, and genuinely wants to keep Yamato in his life which means giving a romance (and gayness) a fair chance. We watch him realize his affection and what form it can take in a truly authentic way.
This show was impossibly kind to both of its lead characters and I felt almost honored that I got to watch something so lovely and rare play out on my screen.
Also wins the best thirst award.
These were the 2 BLs that got 10/10 from me in 2023. The rest of these got 9/10 from me.
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3 My School President
Thailand YouTube
GMMTV gave us a classic high school set Thai BL with tropes like messy boys singing their feelings that made this one Love Sick for the modern age with all the gentle sweetness and pining ache, but none of the dated damaging tropes or issues. Who let my BL be this wholesome and funny? My favourite GMMTV BL offering to date. And yes, I've watched them ALL.
Received the Namgoong award for best wingman 2023.
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4 I Feel You Linger in the Air
Thailand grey
IFYLITA is an exquisite BL, from filming techniques to narrative framework. Steeped in history and family drama this is an elegant and classy BL. The main couple (both as a pair and individuals) were excellent, particularly Bright (Yai) whose eye-work acting style is a personal favorite of mine. It's a marker of how great it was that it's so high on my list despite the ending which was very much not what I wanted.
Additional accolade, sexiest moment of 2023 - (the oil scene).
You could try to fight me, but you'll have no grip.
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5 Kiseki: Dear to Me
Taiwan Gaga & Viki
The plot is totally ridiculous and slightly unhinged. There’s a gum-ball machine of cameos, elder gay rep, great chemistry from all pairs (everyone is queer), and a KILLER side couple. It involves all the tropes under a very offhand framework of gay mafia gangs + food = love. As a result Kiseki is a poster child for Taiwanese BL, and I happen to love Taiwanese BL. Bonus? They also managed to END IT WELL, which we cannot expect from Taiwan.
Best side couple 2023!
(thank goodness Taiwan made this list!)
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6 Jun and Jun
Korea Viki
A delightful office romance about an ex-idol who joins cubical life only to find his new boss is his first love. With a snappy (sometimes even raunchy) script, enjoyable sides, a pretty as peaches cast, and descent chemistry this show made up for in style what it lacked in substance. I like fluff. I loved this. I smiled every moment I was watching.
Best flirting 2023.
AKA "the tongue knows" award
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7 The Eighth Sense
Korea Viki
This one is a bit chewy and sticky and less perfect than most KBLs. It’s got a bit of an age gap, country boy/city boy, stellar acting, complex characters, and leads with great chemistry and tension. This isn’t in the KBL bubble, there’s sharp edges and lots of triggers. For a BL the darkness of the content left me feeling unsettled (which is the only reason it didn't get a perfect score) but it has a glorious ending and that counts for a lot.
2023's most likely to appeal to non-BL watchers.
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8 Unintentional Love Story
Korea iQIYI
The lead, Gongchan (maknae of B1A4) is a fucking GIFT, who carried this show. He was luminous with extraordinarily expressive eyes, which he used to carry a killer plot and challenging role. Forced into a totally understandable betrayal, falling in love despite himself, put into a corner he can't get out of, the AGONY, the eyes EMOTING at us in PAIN. Driven by external conflict, social tension and pressure this story seems simple but it's actually refined and quite complex. I loved this show.
Best story structure 2023.
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9 My Personal Weatherman
AKA Taikan Yoho
Japan Gaga
This is classic yaoi of the kind that really only works from Japan. Basically: boys who fell in love in college end up living together but both are so repressed they actually don't realize they're in love. It's high heat is well done, but it leaned into the "why don't they just talk for fuck's sake?" which is exacerbated by the fact that they're already fucking. Sure is sexy tho.
Best use of props 2023 for the shower of sheets.
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10 Our Dining Table
AKA Bokura no Shokutaku
Japan Gaga
Lonely salaryman and talented cook gets accidentally adopted by a college kid and his little brother. It’s a quiet & cozy little parable of found family alleviating loneliness. It's lovely & sweet with the romance beats used to build a family relationship, not just couple intimacy. Special.
First prize for domesticity.
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11 Laws of Attraction
Thailand iQIYI
This is a great gay suspense thriller with several solid couples, fun plot, killer characters, queer rep, and a happy ending. It’s tons of fun and I had an absolute blast watching it.
Charn wins my favorite character of 2023.
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12 La Pluie
Thailand Viki
This BL takes to task the fated mates trope and what it means to have love chained intimately to predestination. It’s about how faith in destiny before choice diminishes the authenticity of emotion, relationships, and connection. This is a high concept to examine through the lens of a BL. With good chemistry and decent acting all around, plus some excellent high heat and representation of consent and a few other rare tropes, this one has to (like it’s sibling show My Ride) earn high marks.
Most interesting concept 2023.
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13 The New Employee
Korea Viki
So good, SO QUEER, so soft, a near pitch perfect office BL with conflict derived from that setting. Also found family and a lesbian bestie. This is what I wanted from this new crop of office set KBLs ALL ALONG. Rainbow rice cakes forever!
Best overall queer rep from Korea.
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14 Step By Step
Thailand Gaga & YouTube & Viki
This was Thailand’s answer to The New Employee, and everything I loved about that show I loved about this one. This was an office romance between stern boss and sweet subordinate that felt more authentic to an office environment than previous Thai BLs of this ilk which added tension to the narrative and character development.
Chot wins best queer character 2023.
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15 Love Tractor
Korea iQIYI
Most of this country-set BL had me feral for the beautiful broken city boy and his hot young farmer. Hyung romance, puppy/cat pairing, open frankness meets jaded reserve, language play, water hose frolicking, only one bed = all my favorite silly tropes.
Biggest "he so pretty" gasp of the year award.
10 Worst BLs of 2023 (that I watched)
My Blessing
My Universe: Casanova Begins
Boyband the series
Cafe In Love
Chains of Heart
Hit Bite Love
Only Friends
Senior Love Me
The Luminous Solution
The Promise
Yes, you read that right. I know I'm against the flow but I really did not like Only Friends. Everyone's taste is different.
However I DNFed faster and more BL's this year than ever before, so that means my 10 worst probably aren't quite reflective...
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10 Probably Actually Worst BLs (I dropped 'em)
My Story
The Day I Loved You
Beyond the Star
Crazy Handsome Rich
Dinosaur Love
House of Stars
Mr Cinderella 2
Love Bill
Stormy Honeymoon
The Star Always Follow You
Codicils in General
I only carefully track/watch Thailand, Taiwan, Korea, and Japan. Other countries are not fully represented.
My Numbers
So my spreadsheet chronicled 138 BLs that finish airing in 2023.
101 = watched & reviewed
2 = still in the docket (WDYEY2 & Love Syndrome III)
15 = CNF (could not find)
20 = DNF (which also accounts for how few very low scores I handed out in 2023 as opposed to previous years, I just stopped watching). Speaking of which...
Ratings spread
(# of stars. #of BLs given that rating)
0 (see the DNFs instead)
2 - IT'S DEPRESSING they killed the gay, save yourself
7 - I DON'T KNOW WHAT I AM WATCHING AND NEITHER DOES IT
7 - FATALLY FLAWED but still basically BL, however… do we want to support this kind of behavior?
9 - WATCH IF YOU HAVE NOTHING BETTER TO DO but don’t expect much, it’s a total hot mess
17 - WORTH WATCHING BUT FLAWED probably around the ending or in narrative structure/cohesion or censorship
14 - RECOMMENDED WITH RESERVATIONS i.e. isn’t quite BL, convoluted, not strictly HEA, too short/long, or chemistry issues
30 - RECOMMENDED some concerns around tropes (like dub con) or story structure but still satisfies as BL
13 - ABSOLUTELY RECOMMENDED probably a few pacing issues or one flaw
2 - HIGHLY RECOMMENDED faithful to tropes, happy ending, good chemistry, few flaws, high rewatch potential
(source)
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kcrossvine-art · 1 year
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hi friends! :D y'all voted and fought neck and neck for this SO- heres the first entry into our little cooking journey of J. R. R. Tolkeins fictional food for his fictional little guys he puts in fictional turmoils for our enjoyment and awe!
 Before we get started i wanna say i owe my heart to all the LotR fans who upkeep the wiki, debate the cannon, and create their own versions of the foods mentioned. Both because of my love for people who LOVE (passionate people)(passion about anything) and because my own knowledge of this series is a little dusty. I've never seen the movies but I did read the books growing up. I'll be learning and remembering things from a fairly newbie standpoint, so no worries if you yourself arent familiar with the series! (and if you are familiar, hopefully youll forgive me!)
We will be making Lembas ('waybread') today! If you've made your own version of this please feel free to share it, similarly if you have any ideas for what we make next!
(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)
MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS
SO, “what goes in to Lembas?” YOU MIGHT ASKWell so the funny thing is we kinda dont know. At least not entirely? The elves are dicks like that. But heres what we'll be using in ours-
Butter
Self-rising flour
Granulated Sugar
Raisins
A small dried fruit of your choosing
Almonds OR Pecans
EGG
Whole Milk
Heavy Cream
And if you would like for dipping-
Blackberry jam
To the extent i understand this is kinda like hardtack from the bri'ish military, but a fantastical version of it that actually tastes really good. Hardtack was a military provision with the texture of a brick that took a long time to spoil and could be easily carried with soldiers. So the texture we're going for is super dense, packed full with nuts and fruits (haha just lik-), but perhaps not that dense. We want something closer to a dog biscuit than actual tack.
I remembered something about corn being mentioned, thankfully the wiki clarified that no actually the british just referred to any grain as corn back in the day. Thank Fuck! Although I would like to try a version of this using masa in the future.
AND, “what does Lembas taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASK
Took a few tries but eventually got it perfectly chewy and dense
The raisins cook-in like little beads of flavortown sweetness
Cant speak for other fruits but for dried apple it softened up nicely, kinda matching the raisins in the end
Im a big pecan slut, pecans fuck on anything especially here. Crumble them on top after you coat the dough with the egg-mixture for some visual appeal
Somewhat flakey outside
The jam was my idea, it was nice but might be too sweet for some tastes
Would pair very well with a kiwi flavored drink
Or mead
I can see why this would a travelling provision. Its both sugary (a good thing when expending energy) and filling (also a good thing when youre travelling) while not being overwhelming with flavor (if youre prone to motion sickness. Horse sickness? Do get motion sickness on horses?)
Its like how if you're going hiking you want a good mix of sugars and salts, to balance your intake of water.
. If you wanna make it like the illustrations or the movie, use a cookie cutter for either triangles or squares . If you don't have a cookie cutter, an apple cutter also works ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ . try to keep the board you'll roll the dough out onto chilled before you use it, it seems better for the texture of the food though i dont entirely know why
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So from beginning to end, it took about an hour and half for the first attempt. Down to about 40 minutes for the second attempt. These are a real simple recipe because its not like a croissant where the margin for error is nonexistent. Middle-earth be damned my boy can work a grill.
I'd recommend storing in a tubberware container, but if you're deadset on using leaves please rinse and dry them first, and wrap the bread in either wax paper or saran wrap underneath. We dont have mallorn leaves in real life (as far as we know) but most salad greens should work, or as Marie Porter says (linked in the reblogs!) a banana leaf.
I really enjoyed the process of making this recipe, itd be really easy to batch-bake these en masse, and the process of eating said recipe. Like all jokes aside, i think this would be a great substitute for trailmix. Its not going to get smushed and even if it breaks a bit it wont affect the taste. It wont keep you fed for a whole day but pair it with some pickles or a salty snack and yeah itll keep your motor running.
I give this recipe a solid 10/10 (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) Let me know if you think I got something wrong, or if you ran into issues with the recipe. We're off to a strong start, lads!
🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁
Ingredients:
6 TBSP butter, chilled
2 cups self-rising flour
1 TBSP granulated sugar
½ cup raisins
½ other dried fruit (strawberry slices, oranges, etc.), chopped
Handful of almonds or pecans, chopped
1 egg, well beaten
½ cup whole milk
4 TBSP heavy cream
Method:
Preheat your oven to 400 f.
Cut the butter into slivers/small pieces. With your hands, combine the butter into the flour in a mixing bowl until the mixture resembles coarse sand.
Chop your dried nuts and dried fruit until it feels right.
Mix in the sugar, raisins, nut, and dried fruit of your choosing
In a seperate bowl, beat the egg until combined, and then mix in the milk until combined. Keep a bit of this mixture to brush the tops of the bread.
Stir while adding the egg/milk mixture and the heavy cream into the flour. Mix just until combined into a soft dough.
Knead the dough until firm on a floured surface.
Roll into a half inch thickness and cut with a square or leaf shaped cookie cutter. (...or in my case, an apple corer).
Place on a lightly greased baking sheet, with about an inch of space between each piece. Brush the tops of the lembas with some of the mixture you saved earlier.
Bake for about 15-20 minutes, or until it turns a soft gold and the inside is chewy.
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xzaddyzanakinx · 3 months
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Missed me? Pt 3
Stepdad!Anakin Skywalker x Femme Reader
18+ MDNI
Warnings: stepcest/inappropriate relationships, cheating, kissing, flashback, past minor injury, angry/kinda violent thoughts
Info: honestly ur mom is rlly good at psychological warfare
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You ran with Chewie in tow, your lungs on fire as you attempted to get home as quickly as possible. You skid to a stop on the pavement outside your house, the scene unfolding before you hitting you hard. Your mom, stomping out to her car and slamming the door shut. Throwing it in reverse and peeling out of the driveway without even glancing your way. You could physically feel the air blowing past you as she sped off out of the neighborhood.
You walked inside, terrified you’d find a mess. But to your surprise everything was in its place. You unclipped Chewie’s leash and let her roam about inside the house until she found a cool spot on the floor.
You could hear Anakin still working in the garage, he’d turned on some music to keep him company. Maybe you overreacted? She probably didn’t think anything of it right? It’s innocent enough. Anakin is notorious for leaving grease and oil stains in places they should never be. Like the time you painted your palm shoe-polish black just from opening the fridge.
It was nothing. Right? Anakin would be in here upset and waiting for you if something had happened, so everything must be fine. You thought back to your earlier conversation with your mom and recalled how annoyed she seemed about that coding mishap.
Relief spread through you, she was extremely anal about her work. A perfectionist through and through, maybe she’d received word the damage was worse than she originally thought. That would definitely warrant nascar level driving in her eyes.
Even so, you felt the need to placate her when she returned. After a shower and a clean set of comfy clothes you set about cleaning the main floor of the house thoroughly. Scrubbing each surface clean, vacuuming, mopping windex-ing the windows. You even cleared out the leftovers and expired items from the fridge. Going so far as to jot down the items that needed replacing.
Trotting over to the cork board mounted on the wall of the short hall leading to the laundry room and the garage door. This was where everything of importance lived, bills, grocery lists, to-do lists, even a family calendar. Something in red ink had been added to the calendar for tomorrow and you nearly stabbed yourself with a push pin when you read it.
‘Date Night 6:00 @Marzettis’
Written in the ridiculously neat and proper cursive that only could’ve belonged to your mother. If you measured the PSI of your bite force right now, you were one hundred percent sure it would be enough to bite off your mother’s writing hand. Your jaw was clenched so tightly that you heard your molars squeak in protest.
Jabbing the list into the cork with the pushpin you let out a breath that you’d been holding long enough to make you alittle lightheaded.
Calm down. They’re married. Married people go on dates. Anakin can’t really reject his own wife can he? No. No he can’t. It’s okay.
You shook out your anger, resolving yourself to ignore the fact that your stomach was churning with nerves and your tongue burned with unspoken venom. There was still things to do. And doing things is good. Scrubbing every centimeter of the bathroom shower with such aggression that you permanently bent the bristles of your favorite scrub brush was definitely a healthy alternative to committing a felony.
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Hours passed and Anakin finally returned from the garage sending the current vehicle he was working on back to its owner a full day early. It’s amazing what alittle midmorning pussy pick-me-up can do for a man.
It also probably helped that your tiny arms shaved off at least an hours work of dismantling parts of the engine that were in his way of retrieving the piece he actually needed to extract. Though he’d milk his coincidental success as the result of your passionate rekindling for all that it’s worth. It couldn’t hurt to test out that theory a few times could it?
“Whoa.” He snorted, seeing you to his left scrubbing the inside of the washing machine. “What the hell are you doing?”
You lifted your head a bit too fast and wacked it on the lip of the washer, immediately wincing and bringing a hand to rub the top of your head.
“Apparently I’m doing my damndest to give myself a concussion.” You joked, glancing over at him in his sweaty, greasy clothes.
“There’s this guy who has disgusting laundry, that occasionally leaves residue in the washer.” You dramatically explained.
“So I’m doing him a favor and saving him from an accidental repeat of the fancy hand-towel stain incident of 2020.” You grinned and watched as Anakin mirrored your expression.
“Lucky man.” He chuckled, coming over to give you a quick peck on the lips before rushing off to shower.
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Dinner rolled around and you decided to order in, the local Chinese restaurant had the best egg rolls around, and that was just what you needed. You texted your mother to ask for her order and jotted yours and Anakin’s down on a scrap of paper.
~be home alittle late. Just get some Udon for me.~ She responded quickly.
Easy enough. You called in the order and it was delivered and delicious in around 30 minutes. You spread out the feast on the kitchen counter and laughed at Anakin practically drooling over the crab rangoons he was shoveling into his mouth.
“So whens she gonna be home?” He asked, not even bothering to cover his mouth despite chewing like his life depended on it.
“She just said late.” You shrugged, late could mean anything. 10 minutes, an hour; it’s a ridiculous measure of time that you’d always had trouble accepting.
“Well.” He clicked his tongue as he popped open a cold beer from the fridge. “Wanna watch a movie or something?”
“Oh actually, you know what he haven’t done in a while?” You grinned.
“Housewives?” He smirked.
“Yes sir. Take your pick.” You scooped up your take-out box and made a beeline for your favorite seat, the comfy and worn out recliner.
“I’m thinkin’ New Jersey.” He mused, kicking his feet up on the coffee table and searching for your guilty pleasure show.
There’s something comforting about watching someone else’s life like this. Honestly you found it… strangely calming to know that other people have more stressful lives than you. And of course it didn’t hurt that you really loved a bratty cat-fight. Scripted or not, it was undeniably as entertaining as a train wreck.
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It would seem that your mother’s definition of ‘late’ was around 45 minutes, she walked in the door as chipper as ever. Doing wonders for your earlier worries; nothing seemed amiss to her.
She took in your comfortable nest of blankets in your recliner, Anakin’s lanky legs draped over the armrest of the couch with his head propped on a pillow. She was… assessing the scene and found no evidence of any foul deeds.
“It was a good idea for take out.” She said, tossing her items on the table. “I’ve missed these noodles.”
“Oh I know.” You agreed. “I saved an egg roll for you.”
“Thanks sweetie.” She said, flashing a blank stare and an empty smile over her shoulder that went unnoticed by the both of you.
“So Marzettis, is that alright for tomorrow?” She asked Anakin sitting on the couch near him with her food.
“That new Italian place?” He asked, his eyebrows pinched together. “That’s the one Obi took Satine to isn’t it?”
“Yeah it is,” she nodded, seemingly pleased he remembered. “They gushed about it so much I figured it was time we try it.”
“Alright, as long as there’s breadsticks I’m happy.” Anakin smiled.
Meanwhile you were boiling in your seat as you listened to their conversation. Just like in an old cartoon you swore the top of your head would screw itself off and rattle with white hot steam. Honestly, you wished it would. That might just be the only way to get rid of this pressure in your skull without *actually* combusting.
You suffered through their small talk and meaningless conversation about blah, blah and blah. Finally, the episode of Housewives ended and you made your quick egress to your room with a wave goodnight.
You lay awake in bed, planning your to-do list for the next day. You needed to keep yourself busy and entertained to avoid falling victim to the wallowing hole of self pity that is your mind’s way of ‘coping’ with your jealousy.
To-Do:
Wake up
Scream
Nap
Repeat
Perfect.
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You woke up, unsure as to when you actually fell asleep; though arguably in a 73% better mood just from the simple fact that you could hear power tools being used in the garage. It was comforting. The noise used to bother you, irk you to the edge of insanity, because who in their right mind would wake up and use the loudest power tools known to man at 6:00am?
Anakin would.
Every time you woke up to the noise, it reminded you of your first kiss, what could be a better way to wake up? Except for maybe an actual kiss from him.
You had stomped from your room to the garage, having been woken up at 6:00am *on summer break* for the previous 4 days. You threw the door open and yelled for him, but he didn’t hear you. Between the loud grinding sound of metal on metal and the earbuds he had in, you had little choice but to pull something dramatic.
Spotting the extension cord you had unplugged it and relished in the momentary silence before hearing Anakin cursing and repeatedly flipping the switch. You stood and observed with a self-satisfied grin, crossing your arms and jutting out your hip as you waited for his small man brain to figure out what happened.
Karma wasn’t something you believed in until right then, because without even looking up he yanked on the extension cord and the hard plastic socket whipped your thigh leaving an almost immediate bruise.
“Fuck!” You yelled, clenching your fists and biting back a string of words so hellish you might’ve burst into flames if you screamed like you wanted to.
Anakin’s head shot up and he ripped out his earbuds, momentarily confused when he didn’t see the source of the very angry curse word. That was until you hissed as you poked at the tender bruise.
“Oh shit.” He mumbled, rounding the front end of the car to get to you. “Hey- hey sweetheart, what the hell are you doing down here? It’s awful early for you to be up.”
Oh that was it. That was not the thing to say to you right then. He could’ve called you a crybaby and you would’ve took it better than that innocent comment.
“Yeah? It’s awful early to be using whatever the fuck that thing is!” You grumbled, shaking his hand off your arm. “Do you seriously have to do that this early in the morning? Can’t you do something less… grating?!”
“Do you see any other vehicle here for me to work on?” He deadpanned.
“God you’re insufferable sometimes you know that?” You huffed, looking back down at your leg.
“Did you unplug that grinder I was using?” He asked accusingly.
“Yes I did.” You shot back. “It was getting on my fucking nerves Anakin.”
“Well shit- just let me-“ He sighed trying to pry your hands away from your thigh but you batted him away, swiping a droplet of blood across his wrist.
One of the sharp plastic corners had bit into your skin on impact and caused a teeny tiny nick. Though from the amount of blood trickling down your leg, one would automatically assume you had a proper slice of an injury.
“Baby c’mon just let me see? I’m sorry.” He said in a pained tone, you could tell he genuinely felt bad, even though this was mostly your fault.
“Don’t ‘baby’ me.” You had scoffed.
“Fine. My liege.” He grumbled sarcastically.
He approached with paper towels and crouched down to swat your hands away and dab gently at the wound, or rather, lack thereof. He attempted to hand you a paper towel to clean off your hand but you declined, anti-politely wiping off the blood onto his dirty work shirt.
“Are you serious right now?” He scowled.
“Are you almost done?” You countered, crossing your arms again.
“Yeah. It’s just a scratch. Turns out every inch of you is just as dramatic as your shit attitude.” He said, standing up, his height making you feel dwarfed.
“Yeah that’s what happens when-“ you started in an angry, belittling tone.
Though you were cut off and the world paused around you. You went stiff as he grabbed you by the shoulders and leaned down to kiss you. Before you even registered what was happening top-side, your body had already begun to relax in his arms. His big strong, work-worn hands pulling you into him while he slipped his tongue between your lips. Gliding lightly just behind your top row of teeth before you finally gave in and kissed him back.
Your eyes fluttered closed and you hummed know content when he released your waist to cradle your head with both hands, your own fisting his shirt as you kissed like your lives depended on it.
“Hey! You up?” Your mom knocked loudly on your door and broke the trance of the sweet memory. That 73%? Reduced to 32%.
“Yes.” You huffed and rolled out of bed, unlocking your door and letting her in.
“Great, I want to borrow a dress of yours is that okay?” She asked, heading to your closet before you could even respond.
No way. Absolutely no way. She was not wearing that.
“No. Pick something else.” You said sternly, taking the red summer dress and hanging it back up.
“What why?” She questioned.
“Because it has a hole in it.” You lied, “can’t have you going on your big date like that.”
“I didn’t see a hole.” She countered, going to grab it again.
“Trust me. There’s a hole.” And they’ll be another one: in the ground for her if she didn’t accept defeat on this.
“Fine.” She scoffed and drug out a few more options under your watchful eye.
“This one?” She asked.
“Yeah that one’s fine. It’ll look great.” You forced a smile and tracked her during her retreat down the hall.
As soon as she entered her room you slammed your own door shut and locked it again. You went straight to your closet and got the red dress, folding it and tucking it into the bottom of your sock drawer.
Was she intentionally trying to piss you off? No. She couldn’t have known. No one could’ve known other than you and Anakin. You had been so careful, going out of town for a date at the drive-in while your mom was away on a business trip. You’d worn that dress for Anakin and only Anakin, and you’d never worn it since that night, that first night.
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In your state of confusion you didn’t notice the sound of Anakin’s garage noise die down.
Anakin had stopped for a coffee break and came inside, finding his wife at the kitchen counter. He gave her a quick smile and and poured some black coffee into a big thermos.
“Sugar? ‘Sugar’?” She asked sweetly, sliding the large sugar canister across the countertop to him.
“Uh, yeah.” He blinked slowly as if trying to rewind her words. “Yeah okay thanks.”
He shook his head and shrugged, raising his eyebrows in concentrated thought as he stirred the sugar into his coffee. The only person who has *ever* said that to him is you. That’s such a weird coincidence… what are the chances? It’s not like you call him ‘sugar’ any other time either. Only ever for the sake of making him smile when he fixes his coffee.
“Well. I’ll be out here then.” He said awkwardly, still very much miffed by the odd comment.
She ‘mhm’d’ in response, enjoying watching him slink back into the garage with his cheeks tinted in shame.
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By the time 5:30 rolled around Anakin was in a nice button-up and dress pants, looking absolutely exquisite. That man really knew how to wear… anything, and nothing too. You had to ogle him from afar, watching his cute butt in those well-fit pants as he walked out the door following closely behind your mother. Who was wearing your dress.
You made a mental note to find an industrial shredder to take care of that ruined fabric when she returned it.
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At Marzetti’s dinner was going well, much better than Anakin had expected to be honest. It was almost nice, in a weird way. The food was good, the atmosphere was pretty… he couldn’t help but be startled every now and again when he glanced over and didn’t see you across the table from him. You’d love this place, and damn he’d love to see you in it. He just knew the lighting would show off those sexy bedroom eyes you *swore* you never knew when you were making.
The biggest downside was that this place was alittle too expensive to be wasted on your mother. This kind of luxury should be reserved for his princess.
After an hour’s worth of awkward small talk and stupid conversational questions, Anakin got up to use the restroom.
When he returned he was shocked to say the least. The table had been cleared and all that remained was the check, and a thick manila envelope, he hesitantly picked it up and tucked it under his arm.
Fast walking to the front of the restaurant he quickly paid, despite the hostess’s request for him to return to his table because ‘payment is collected at your seat’. He fumbled with his car keys and clicked the lock button to quickly locate his black vintage Camaro… no dice.
He stood frozen in the middle of the parking lot, spinning slowly and spotting his parking spot… where the car *should* have been.
“That bitch took my fucking Camaro.” He whispered to himself, internally screaming at himself for being a responsible adult and having a spare set of keys safely stashed away.
He already had an idea of what was in that envelope, but now he didn’t even need to look at the title page. He just needed a goddamn pen.
Final Part
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yourmomsushi · 2 months
Text
Poly 141 x Baker Reader Warnings : MDNI, fluff? , suggested poly!
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“It’s too…crispy?” I hear from the customer in the corner, making me groan mentally. I had always fumbled with making croissants , especially the ones were they’re supposed to be soft and chewy, not rock hard like the fucking earth. I fidget with a strand of hair, my two pretty pink lavender bows are trimmed to perfection and dangle in my hair aimlessly. I tug on my white apron, when I hear the doorbell chime, turning my head to the direction of the sound, I see buff shoulders like they were made to carry damsels in distress and the fucking world. The man wore military green and black, with a vest over as he turned to my direction, his hair shaved except the mohawk he sported so confidently. I fumbled with my name tag. Meanwhile, I see a man with a scurry beard and hairy arms that are visible due to rolled up sleeves of a plaid white shirt, another man had rich creamy skin, his face and body literally glowing as he lays a arm on another man, who seems so damn mysterious, covering his face with a balaclava that is in the form of a skull, dark war paint smudged against his eyes. I open my mouth and start the usual lines of the average customers, expect its much more softer  than usual, which I don't even notice,
“Hi! Welcome to Bun”s Bakery! What can I get you?” I say, fixing my name tag : Bun : short for the name Bunnie. 
“Hi. So we're gonna start on one tea, 3 cups of dark espresso, and one blueberry muffin.” The man with fuzzy black hair says, with his arm slang over the Skull face-covered man, whom I’m surprised didn’t shove him away. 
“Okay! Your total is 10.56$” I say with a smile.
After the payments are done, the group of men find a table in the corner of the cafe, taking in the scene before them. Art pieces hanging around, antiques and sculptures, it was like a hectic history and art, but you couldn’t help but awe at it softly. I turn in just then, carrying their drinks and warmed blueberry muffin on a small white tray. 
“Bunnie, right?” the man with the overgrown mohawk says, eyeing my name tag with curiosity. 
I nod with a smile “and you lot must be?” I say with a genuine smile for once these days. 
“I’m Johnny,” He says, reaching over and pointing at the man with the skull mask, “That’s Simon.” He then points to the prettiest man out of all of them. “That’s Kyle”. He finally then points to the oldest man of the lot, with a slightly overgrown beard. “And, that's our captain, John.” 
I smile. “Pleasure to meet you all, you guys are new here?”
John smiles and nods “It’s just temporary for a few months, nothing permanent.”
I smile again, giving them extra napkins and refills, “Well, if you need anything, let me know, you know how hectic Italy can get, am i right?” I give an awkward chuckle and smile. 
Throughout their stay, I hear the man give hushed whispers to each other until finally, the skull guy, simon comes up to me with a grunt and says : 
“Others wanted to give you their number, here.” He tugs a note with all their phone numbers in there, he grunts again and walks back, his voice was gruff and almost - kind?
I give a small smile and wave as they leave the building, my heart flutters softly, new friends, new starts.
So much for burnt croissants I guess.
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ihavethedreamies · 2 months
Text
Peach | Jaemin
Na Jaemin - NCT Dream
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Rating: M (18+) MDNI
Word Count: ~2.5k
Pairing: Jaemin x AFAB!Reader
Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Established Relationship, Porn without Plot
!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!
Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (M! & F! Receiving/Anal), Anal Play, Sex Toys (Butt Plug, Butterfly Vibrator), Deepthroating/Face-Fucking, Rough Sex, Squirting, Daddy Kink (he calls himself that once), Unprotected Sex (Don’t!!)
Summary: Jaemin isn't too happy his girlfriend doesn't like peaches…
Author's Note: This series was supposed to be of drabbles, at least this is the longest.
This is only vaguely based off of Smoothie…I say this because I got the idea for a fruit theme, but past that its unrelated.
🍉 Mark 🍉
🍇 Renjun 🍇
🍌 Jeno 🍌
🍒 Haechan 🍒
🍓 Chenle 🍓
🍍 Jisung 🍍
I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!
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"You really don't like peaches?" Your boyfriend looked at you, looked utterly dejected at this new information. You sighed, flapping the produce bag so it would open, holding it to him. He dumped the five peaches into the bag he had carefully cradled in his arms and then added two more for good measure. As you put the bag in the cart you shrugged.
"I will eat them sometimes. They just are…weird."
"Weird how?" Jaemin took the cart from your grasp so he could push it for you.
"Why are they fuzzy?" You were a bit ashamed to admit why you disliked them so much. The texture was just so odd, it was like velvet. And you hated velvet too, it was unnatural. You much preferred nectarines, of a similar vein but NOT fuzzy.
"But they are so sweet and juicy…" He stopped to send you a mischievous look, "like you." He booped your nose with his finger then continued on, leaving you staring after him in disgust.
"Why do I love you?" You mumbled, trudging after him.
"Because I'm sweet and juicy too." He replied way too casually. You rolled your eyes and you two continued to shop, eventually getting the canned food. You grabbed a couple of different things, and you watched him put a can of pre-cut peaches in.
"We're buying fresh ones." You took it back out so he would put it back.
"These aren't fuzzy, maybe you'll like these." Jaemin tipped the can back and forth in your face, putting it in the cart once again. They weren't expensive, so you just let it happen. In the candy isle, you looked for your favorite kind and he came over with some Japanese brand of chewy candies, and they were peach flavored.
"Seriously?"
"I will convince you to like something peach. Don't make me get the Crush soda!" He pointed at you, finger close but not touching your forehead. Sighing you dropped the issue, finishing shopping then going back home. You sat at the counter eating some chips as he put the rest of the groceries away, he wouldn't let you help. He said it was because you were too short to reach everything, but he really just liked spoiling you. When he was done, he brought over the bag of peaches, setting each one on the counter in a row, smallest to largest.
"What the hell are you doing?" You asked, not sure you wanted to know the answer. He didn't answer, taking the can of peaches, opening it, and placing seven of the slices on a paper plate. In front of each peach, he put one of the candies.
"What. Are. You. Doing?" You reiterated and he held up his hand, telling you to wait.
"If you eat a certain number of each one, I will do different things for you."
"Like what?"
"What do you think, baby girl?" He leaned on the counter, smirking and you shuffled in your seat under his intense gaze. Clearing your throat, you closed the chip bag and shoved them to the side.
"Alright. What are they?"
"One candy equals one minute of making out." He pointed at each one. Jaemin moved to the slices on the plate.
"One is I'll let you ride my thigh." You nodded for him to continue.
"Two, I'll get you off with my fingers. Three, your vibrator. Four I'll let you suck me off at the same time. Six, I'll cum in your mouth, and all seven I'll fuck your face." He listed off, recognizing the look on your face with each level. He knew you too well. You swallowed hard and he flashed a devilish grin.
"Okay, what about those." You nodded toward the full fruits. He held one up.
"If you only eat one of these, I'll have you sit on my face. If you do all the other ones, plus one of these…" He drifted off, trying to keep his face flat, but he was still smirking. Your eyes followed his hand as he put the fruit down and pulled a bottle out of his pocket you had no idea was there. He set it down, the fluid inside was a peachy color…
"I'll use this." Jaemin leaned back against the counter opposite the island as you looked at the bottle.
"Real original. Peach flavored butt lube…" You sighed, but your cunt clenched at the thought. You had been talking about experimenting…
"Okay, deal." You agreed, holding your hand out to shake and he grinned.
"You sure, baby?"
"We'll see." You shrugged, trying to stay nonchalant. You were a little nervous, the last time you had canned peaches, you gagged at the slimy texture. The candies weren't too worrying, the artificial flavor was probably quite different from real peaches. He took you hand and shook it, leaning back again, nodding for you to start. Unwrapping the first gummy, you slid it into your mouth, the sugar decorating the outside rough on your tongue as your teeth sank in. It really wasn't too bad, though you wouldn't go out of your way to buy any.
"One minute." You started, unwrapping the next gummy. After you had chewed and eaten all seven, Jaemin smirked, coming around the island, and pulling off the stool to him. As he brought you to and settled on the couch, he set a timer for seven minutes, cracking some joke about seven minutes in heaven, then hauled you down onto his lap. He groaned exaggeratedly as he pulled you down to seal your lips with his, tongue already snaking its way into your mouth. Your head swam as Jaemin kissed you, he really was too good at it. You felt a bit of saliva drip down your chin, he was rough and noisy. You both were sucking air in harshly through your noses since you couldn't use you mouths, but not wanting to cut short the seven minutes in any way. When his phone alarm went off, his hand buried in your air and forced you to pull back from the kiss. You were both panting, but you were way more than him, with that stupid cocky grin on his ridiculously attractive face. With ease, he stood, you still on his lap. This forced  you to wrap your legs and arms around him with a yipe and he went back to the kitchen, setting you on the island counter. He slid the plate over to you, grabbing a spare plastic fork and handing it over. This was more nerve wracking for you. You pondered if literally swallowing the slices whole would be less skeevy than chewing them since they got kind of rubbery in the can. Taking the first piece, you brought it to you lips, cringing at the taste of the syrup they put in the can to keep them the right texture. Sliding it in, the slippery texture made you gag slightly, so you just bit it in half, then swallowed both pieces. Thinking of it like a medication pill made it go down easier, since those weren't supposed to be appetizing.
"Thigh." He recited, stepping forward even further, standing between your legs where you sat on the counter. You swallowed again, making sure the pieces were done and then proceeded to do it again. The flavor wasn't too bad, but the texture was still unpleasant.
"Fingers." Another, swallowing both halves.
"Vibe."
"My cock." He placed his thumb over your lip, swiping a bit of the syrup away.
"My cum." You licked you lips that time, swallowing hard to get the rest of the sixth piece down. When you finally ate the last slice, he smiled deviously, running his index finger down your throat, as if following the fruit as you swallowed it. Before you could do anything yourself, he pulled away, dashing to the bedroom, coming back out with your butterfly vibrator. He came back over, pulling your butt to the edge, running his hand up your thigh and under your skirt. You shifted so he could flip it up, smiling at your pink panties. He pulled them to the side, your slick letting the silicone head of the small vibrator slide in easily. You shivered a bit as he got it all in and let your underwear settle back in place, the wings of the bottom of the toy cupping your whole cunt. He helped you off the counter, and you got on your knees in front of him. As you pulled his hard cock out of his sweat pants, you whined, lapping up the drop of precum beaded at his head. Jaemin smirked, holding the remote for you to see, then turning it on. Your breath hitched as he increased the intensity, you squatted further so the base of the toy hit the floor, allowing you to press it into your more. Opening your mouth wide, you sat like a good girl as he took his cock in his hand, leading it in. Listening to you breathe roughly through your nose, he kept going, filling your throat with his cock. Your eyes rolled back at the sensation, loving the feeling of your throat trying to accommodate but not gag. Jaemin just held his cock there, your nose pressed to his groin, your hips rutting against your toy. When he could tell you needed to breathe, he pulled his hips back enough to allow you respite, then started to thrust his hips. Every fifth thrust, he shoved his cock as deep as he could, his palm laying over your throat feeling it stretch with his girth. He groaned loudly, he always did.
"Fuck, baby girl~" Your eyes were watering, tears flowing over your cheeks, breaths harsh through your nose and he knew you were close like him. His thumb hit the button the remote again and at the new intensity, you hit your climax, your moan around his cock helping him finish as well. You nearly sobbed as hot, thick spurts of his cum went straight down your throat. It seemed to never end, and your vision blurred from lack of air. Jaemin noticed and pulled halfway out, a few small spurts of cum still leaving his cock, then pulled out completely so you could suck in oxygen. His cock was a mess of saliva and release. Panting from where you squatted on the floor, you watched him shut the toy off, sighing in relief, and he picked up the full peach that time.
"Undress and get on the bed." He ordered and you scrambled to do so, sliding the toy out and throwing it in the bathroom sink. You slid your clothes off and sat at the end of the bed like a good girl, he came in not even a minute later, only in his pants and holding the peeled and cut fruit on a plate in his hand. Setting it down next to you, he went to the nightstand and got the plug you had bought last week.
"Start." You hadn’t made good on the deal yet, but he knew you would. When you picked up the first piece, you were relieved it wasn't nearly as slimy or sticky as the canned stuff, but you were kind of full from the previous parts, as well as what you swallowed of Jaemin's release. You were feeling impatient, so you scarfed it down, shocking him a bit, but you were licking the last of the juice off your fingers when he came to stand in front of you. He had given you the smaller one luckily, so you didn't have much to eat.
"Roll over, get on your knees." He smacked your ass lightly and you crawled up the bed, doing so, face on the sheets, butt in the air. He grinned, your slick folds had dripped down over your pucker. He opened the cap of the bottle, you shivered when the slightly cold fluid hit your rim. You had expected the tip of his finger, or even the end of the plug, but you gasped when instead, his tongue ran around your back entrance. It was peach flavored not just scented.
"Fuck, 'Min." It was an odd sensation, but not totally unwelcome. He noted that the lube had a very artificial taste, he much preferred the real thing, but if it was you he eating instead, that was fine. After a few minutes, he pulled his face away, licking his lips, then picked up the plug.
The toy was pretty small, but he still slathered it in lube, as well as your rim. He watched the muscle flutter around the silicone, and you whined a bit.
"Breathe." He coached and slid the plug into your ass. Your breath hitched, then you sighed and relaxed once it was in.
"How's that, baby girl?" Jaemin stroked the skin of your ass cheek with his thumb, your cunt visibly fluttering.
"W-weird." You admitted, and he hummed.
"Jaemin~" You practically squealed when the head of his dick ran through your slick folds, but he was taking his take actually starting to press in.
"Please!" You wanted to cry, needing him and so he relented, sliding home. You let out a slight choking noise, the burn of his cock stretching you so fast and hard, along with the plug in your ass, was overwhelming. He was nice enough to let you adjust to the new sensation of having something in both wholes, but it always took a while for you to get used to his cock. From behind he reached the deepest part of your cunt, and your tight gummy walls gripped to every ridge and vein of him. There was no verbal warning for him starting, but you saw his hands rest on and grip the head board, prompting you to do the same with the sheets.
"Fuck, princess!" He laughed in glee, not trying to be gentle in any sense, bullying his cock into your pussy as hard as he could, like he was rearranging your insides. Each thrust took your breath away, making you nearly hyperventilate. He was spewing the sweetest filth, praising you and your cute little cunt. How well you took his fat cock, and how much he loved fucking you stupid. You could barely babble in reply, tiny orgasms washing over you over and over.
"J-J-Jaemin-!" You dug your teeth into the pillow, the next wave coming was much stronger.
"Okay, baby girl, cum for daddy~" He chuckled as you whimpered, another hand thrust, and he was even taken away by your orgasm. Your cunt clenched even tighter around his cock than he thought possibly, spurts of slick spilling from your cunt, dripping and puddling onto the sheets. It was too much, too hot, that he made a few more shallow thrusts, then spilled inside you. You milked him dry, it felt like, and it made an even bigger mess. He sat inside you till he had nearly softened all the way, letting you calm down some and slowly pulling out. His finger circled the base of the plug, the end of it had a little emoji peach on it.
"You like peaches now, princess?”
🍉 Mark 🍉
🍇 Renjun 🍇
🍌 Jeno 🍌
🍒 Haechan 🍒
🍓 Chenle 🍓
🍍 Jisung 🍍
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217 notes · View notes
the-kr8tor · 11 months
Text
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Hobie Brown Night-time headcanons.
Pairing: Spider-Punk x GN! Reader/ Hobie Brown x GN! Reader
Word count: 1k
Tags: Established relationship, fluff, No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except having piercings), smut only implied. SFW
* I don't consent to having my work translated/ published on other platforms*
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Hobie almost always goes home really late and you'll be waiting for him, snoring away on the couch. Everytime he sees that you've fallen asleep waiting for him to come home guilt eats at him, so he always carries you to bed and tucks you in, to satiate the emotion.
But on rare occasions where he comes home at the same time you do or earlier than you've expected, he always greets you with a bear hug. 
Whenever he had a bad day wrangling the villain of the week, when he thought he wouldn't come back home to you that day, he hugs you tighter, lifts you up, and twirls you around the living room just to hear you laugh. (Of course he wouldn't tell you that) Slowly Hobie's smile spreads across his face, lifting the day's hardships away from him. 
If he ever comes home injured, you're always there ready to patch him up. You even learned how to properly stitch a wound ( from a youtube video no less) for him. 
Of course there's always a time where you suggest going to the hospital whenever he has an injury you can't treat with just a simple first aid kit, but Hobie stubborn as he is just says-
"Your hands are just softer love, and you give me kisses right after, let's see the NHS do that" 
You can't help but roll your eyes at his quip, but your true feelings show through with how your breath hitches. You focus on patching him up instead of thinking about how much pain he's experiencing. It's safe to say you don't sleep properly every time Hobie comes home injured, you always wake up in the middle of the night to check up on him. Thanks to his enhanced healing, he always gets back up in the morning.
When the planets align with Hobie coming home early and uninjured, you heal his soul by making him his favorite meal. Hobie helps a lot, no matter how many times you kick him out of the kitchen so he could relax for once. He couldn't help himself by helping you cook. Whenever you two are in the kitchen, laughter and warmth fills your modest flat.
"Hobie, you're gonna make the soup all clumpy!" You say with wide eyes as he straight up pours all the cornstarch without mixing it properly.
"I don't believe in consistency" Hobie tells you straight faced. 
"What does that even mean!" You push him away with your hips, so you could fix the soup. He grabs you by the waist and lifts you up easily. 
"Hobie, where are you taking me?!" You feign anger with your voice, but you failed when a giggle escaped your throat.
"I like it chewy!" Hobie replies with a smile.
"It's soup, it's not supposed to be chewy!" You struggle in his arms as he brings you to the couch. He drops you on the couch with an oof coming from you
"No Chewy soup for you then" he leans down on top of you for a kiss.
After a warm bath, you do your skincare routine or you try to at least, you keep stopping with your routine though. With Hobie sitting with one leg up on your counter, wearing a pair of fresh pajama pants that have a bunch of guitars printed on them, (You bought them for him years ago as a joke, he claims he hates them but he keeps wearing them the moment they come out of the washing machine) He's wearing one of his homemade band shirts, with its sleeves cut off by Hobie himself, his arms in full display. So you can't help but get distracted. 
"Y'know you could always ask me to put some on you" you turn to him, eyes gleaming with hope that he finally takes you up on your offer. 
"Like I'll ever need them" he winks at you. "And y'know how I don't like consumerism" 
Knowing that he's won again, you shake your head at him with a small smile. 
A few weeks later you find out why he's been watching you so intensely every time you do your skincare routine. You're out one night drinking with your friends at a local pub. 
You get home drunk off your ass, This time Hobie's the one waiting for you on the couch. He shoots up from the couch the second he hears your keys jingle. 
"Had fun, love?" He's waiting for you nonchalantly acting as if he wasn't snoring away on the couch. 
"Heyyo baby" You greet him by hugging his middle. "Had soo much funn" your slurred speech making him smile.
"You also look like it" He tells your disheveled state.  
"You're meannn" You say as he leads you to your shared bathroom. 
He perches you on top of the counter with ease. And grabs all your skincare from the medicine cabinet.
"Whatcha doin" you asked with your head tilted, focusing really hard on Hobie's hands while he opens up your micellar water. 
"Cleaning you up, so you don't break out" he says as he puts the soaked cotton ball on your face, softly cleaning it. "You're gonna thank me in the morning"
"Aha! So you do listen, you big softie you!" You playfully jab his face. In retaliation he rubs at your eyelids with the cotton ball without telling you. 
"Whoops" he smirks. You give him your best angry face you could muster up while in your state, which ended up with Hobie laughing at your face.
If Hobie still has piercings that aren't fully healed yet, you offer your help in cleaning the hard to reach areas. If you have piercings that still need to be taken care of, Hobie always instigates to clean it for you since you always forget or are too tired to do it yourself. 
Hobie's cleaning your new helix piercing with a cotton swab and saline. You're sitting on his lap, your back facing him.
" You're not a worm stop squirming"  Hobie says, frustrated with you moving away from his lap. 
"It tickles Hobie" You say with a laugh.
"Keep moving like that, and you'll get tickled a different way" Hobie teases, as he loops his legs on top of yours, locking you in place.
"Hobie!" You gasp at his implication.
At the end of the night you both finally lay down on your  shared bed, you snuggle up to Hobie, as he tucks you both in the comforter. You cuddle and talk about your day until you both passout.
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A/n: Hope you enjoyed reading! Sorry if it looks weird on pc, since I'm posting this on mobile. Feel free to like and reblog! ♥️
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kittyball23 · 6 months
Text
Soundproof (a Trolls fanfic)
Summary: John Dory reveals that Rhonda is soundproof, and that little bit of information sits quite well with Poppy and Branch **Rated M**
A/N: 😏
__________________________________________
It was precisely three things that were serving as a distraction to Branch that night.
One was the incredibly delicious marshmallows in his hands, plopped into his mouth every few minutes so that he could experience its chewy, fluffy goodness in between the songs that he and his brothers were harmonizing to. Another was Poppy, sitting across him from the campfire alongside her sister Viva. Her deep, fuschia eyes - sparkling with the reflection of the crackling orange flames - remained trained to his blue whenever she spared a glance his way, letting him know by the intense gaze that there was something other than flames crackling between them.
Tension.
And it was one that was continuing to build as the evening progressed, all because of a small tidbit of information that was so graciously dumped upon them during the idle conversation among the group of friends. The information in itself being the third distraction.
Patience was not proving to be a virtue, however, and he and Poppy had to be pulled out of their dazed infatuation with one another several times - Viva nudging her sister with a giggle and Floyd nudging Branch wearing his own little smirk.
After what did feel like hours of happily enduring laughter, songs, stories and other shenanigans that could only ensue among siblings, the first yawn finally was emitted, coming out of Floyd. It in turn caused everybody else to realize just how tired they were, too. So when the other yawns and tired stretches followed suit to confirm it was true, Branch nearly felt like pulling his brother in for a hug. His favorite bro had come to his aid, even if he may not have known it! But while the fun between the seven friends had just concluded, the heated glint in Poppy’s eyes told him that their fun was just beginning.
Just as Branch’s thoughts began to wander somewhere ungentlemanly, John Dory’s loud voice broke through. “I don’t know about you all, but I’m bushed!” To demonstrate his point, he plopped down flat on his back upon his sleeping bag. “Guess it was pretty fun singing and roasting marshmallows after all, eh?” he chuckled after a moment.
Bruce hummed in agreement, munching on the last few in his possession. “Mmm-mmm! I gotta tell Brandy we should add these to the dessert menu,” he said, referring to his wife of whom he ran Vacay Island’s cantina with.
“Imma be the first one in line if you do that!” Clay exclaimed, exchanging a fist bump with the purple-haired Troll.
“Count me in on that, too!” Viva giggled. She too really loved marshmallows - her couch back in Putt Putt Village, in fact, was a marshmallow! And only now did it really occur to her to wonder how in the world she’d managed not to consume it for all those years living there. Shrugging it off, she turned to the gang with a large grin. “He’s right though,” she said, gesturing a thumb at John Dory. “This really was fun! I’d love for us to all hang again sometime!”
Floyd nodded his head, agreeing. “That would be nice.” He turned to Branch, seeking his younger bro’s opinion.
“Yeah,” the blue Troll responded, hoping he didn’t sound too breathless when he answered, his gaze still fixed on Poppy.
The Pop Queen, in a similar fashion, concurred with a little dazed “Uh-huh.”
Good nights were bid, sleeping bags unzipped, and wrappers to the Jumbo-sized marshmallow bags disposed of. As Branch went to go put out the campfire, he silently mouthed the words to Poppy that would let her know when they could get the ball rolling.
Five minutes.
He accompanied the words with hand gestures - one going forward, as though he were making the motion for the word “after,” and then another gesture tucking his hands under one side of his head, to make it look as though he were laying down to sleep. Poppy understood right away, confirming with a little wink and followed by a half-lidded gaze that made a tingle go down his spine. He tried to ignore it as he laid down in his sleeping bag, for the sake of surviving those next five minutes without her in his arms already, but found he couldn’t. Poppy’s effect was too strong, and the desires manifested themselves in delicious fantasies for what he ached to do with her. Fantasies of which would soon become a reality.
Branch lay until he was sure that he heard the sounds of heavy cadences of breathing and light, steady snoring. He waited an extra thirty seconds or so afterwards, just to be extra sure and, upon hearing no signs of activity, allowed himself to rise up and out of his sleeping bag, careful to take the utmost caution in not making any noise whatsoever.
Poppy, also having waited the allotted time, made to get out of her sleeping bag, too. In her haste to reach Branch’s side, she accidentally crunched on a dry leaf, the crinkling noise resounding around them. Both froze. With this number of Trolls snoozing in the vicinity, someone was bound to stir. And stir someone did.
Clay shifted in his bag, and Branch held his breath, fully expecting his older brother to blink his eyes open and catch the two of them sneaking off. But to his relief, the lime-green-haired Troll drowsily mumbled something about tax evasion and then snuggled back into his blanket. Poppy met her boyfriend’s eyes and scrunched her shoulders, a little blush tinting her cheeks and a quiet giggle escaping her. Branch rolled his eyes playfully, and simply extended his hand for her to take, a little smirk on his face. She squeezed it softly as he tugged them along, padding against the soft dirt floor underneath them to reach their destination. Once they got just outside of JD's beloved caterbus pet, he released from her grip, bringing his hand up to her face so he could pull her in for the kiss he'd been dying to share with her. Poppy obliged him willingly, parting her lips slightly to deepen it. He pulled away with some reluctance after several seconds, resting his forehead against hers. Branch’s voice was hushed and eager when he spoke, finally addressing that one point of crucial information in the earlier conversation that had been so easily glossed over by the others, even his brother - JD - himself, who had revealed it.
"Do you really think that Rhonda is completely soundproof?"
The question itself wasn't so crude, but for the purpose that he was asking it made his cheeks grow warm. He couldn't help but think back to the time when John Dory had made the very confident-sounding claim that Rhonda was waterproof, but it hadn't turned out to be so.
Poppy however didn't seem bothered, and snickered. "I mean, even if she isn't, I'm sure she'll make sure nobody bothers us. Won't you, girl?"
Branch gave a short gasp when he felt a rumble of a trill behind him in response, only coming to just realize that Rhonda had been awakened and was panting happily at the couple. She wagged her stumpy green tail, seeming to have understood what Poppy had said and more than willing to be of help.
Branch still looked a little bit uncertain, suddenly rethinking this little venture. Even with as much as he wanted this to happen, would it be wise?
"Poppy," he said, pausing to think of what he was going to point out to her first. That perhaps they shouldn't be partaking in these type of activities within a caterbus that was not theirs? With not one, nor two, or even three or four, but FIVE other Trolls who had the chance of waking up and catching them in the act? And what kind of mess would they leave behind on the bed? Branch couldn’t imagine the embarrassment that he would have to face if confronted by John Dory for anything that was leftover upon the sheets….
But Poppy was quick to already reply. And reply she did. "Brrranch…" His name was a teasing growl, the ‘r’ drawn arousingly as she opened Rhonda's side door, batted her lashes and gingerly stepped foot inside.
Branch sighed. That's it.
In a move that suddenly startled her, he swept in, hauling her up and off her feet and hoisting her in a bridal carry that had her doing her best to not squeal in surprise. As he toted her into the caterbus, he hoped Poppy wasn't prepared to sleep.
Because Branch sure wasn't.
__________________________________________
A loud, thumping in the night is what awakened him.
Floyd startled, a little groggy as he registered that it was still pitch black, the morning not broken through yet. He attempted to shut his eyes again and doze off, but a sudden rumbling in his stomach caught him off guard, letting the magenta-haired Troll know loud and clear that it was hungry.
One midnight snack will do, he thought. Or... whatever time it is. Floyd had no way of knowing in particular what hour it was. It could very well be past midnight, or just a few minutes before the crack of dawn. He went back and forth reasoning which of the two it could be as he made his light, tip-toeing steps towards Rhonda. JD had lots of goodies packed in his fridge and cabinets, so there was bound to be something to sedate him.
As his hand reached for the knob of Rhonda's door, prepared to turn, he stopped short at the sound of the thumping again, more pronounced. Floyd blinked. Was that coming from inside of the caterbus? He strained to listen, and heard a rapid creaking noise, as though springs were being pressed down upon over and over, accompanied with a long, drawn noise of some sort. A moan, he realized, the longer he had his ear perked to attention.
Wait a minute... He thought he recognized that voice. Was that… Poppy? Floyd blinked. Why? Had something happened to her? He glanced over to where the other Trolls had been sleeping, seeing for the first time that her sleeping bag was indeed empty...
...And so was Branch's.
Suddenly, the magenta Troll's brain began to put two and two together, the cogs shifting in his brain right as another thumping was heard, and a new moan that bore a resemblance to the name of his youngest bro resonated.
Something had happened to Poppy all right. But it wasn't anything bad.
It was…
They were...
“Oh!” he gasped. Floyd suddenly felt blood rush to his face, his appetite vanishing entirely and his stomach turning queasy. He hurriedly turned his heel, trying to dash as quickly as he could back to his sleeping bag before he had an accident, but failing as he tripped over one of his brothers.
"Ow," a drowsy mumble came from Bruce, and he began to sit up and rub his eyes at the disturbance. "Floyd? Dude, what's going on?"
Floyd waved his hands in a panic. "No! Bruce, go back to sleep. Please!"
"Huh?" Bruce cocked his head. "What are you talking abou - " His sentence was cut off by the sound of a shout, one that sounded an awful lot like their youngest brother. More thumping followed, and Bruce raised an eyebrow, clueless for a second, until realization dawned upon him. "Ohhhh," he said, cracking a smile once his thoughts were confirmed upon seeing the lack of Branch and Poppy in their respective sleeping bags. Rhonda affirmed it further, cutting her narrowed eyes at him as if daring him to try and intrude the private moment. So that's what they were up to. Bruce shook his head, fondly remembering a time when he and Brandy were younger, and would get up to their own share of frisky business. "Well, I'll tell you one thing for sure," he told Floyd, "If there was ever any doubt that Branch isn't a man, there certainly isn’t one now."
Two responses met the purple-haired Troll. One was another loud moan coming from the caterbus. The other was a groan of dismay from his magenta-haired brother.
"Didn't John Dory say she was soundproofed?" Floyd whimpered in mortification, pointing at Rhonda.
Bruce laughed. "Bro, Rhonda's not soundproof. JD just sleeps like a rock. See?" The brothers looked over at their eldest bro who indeed looked like a content stone just laying there. Un-rock-like though, he snored, drooling some from the side of his open mouth.
Of course, Floyd thought with a roll of his eyes. He cast a worried glance at Bruce. "Okay, but, um, what should we do? I'd love to go back to sleep, but not if I'm going to listen to… um… to…" He tried to think of the right word to describe what was happening without outright saying it, but found he didn't have to. He grimaced when Poppy cried out, making him shudder. "To that," he finished.
Bruce understood and patted a hand reassuringly on Floyd’s shoulder. "Not to worry, bro. I got you covered. Here, gimme your hand." Floyd extended his palm out, and Bruce reached into his hair, pulling out a couple of small objects.
Floyd was perplexed when he realized what it was. "Gumdrops?" he asked.
"Hey, I know they're delish, but they're also 100% soundproof, guaranteed."
Floyd narrowed his eyes, unable to help feeling skeptical. "You sure?"
Bruce nodded. "Yep! Trust me, I stuff them in my kids' ears every night right after they've gone to sleep, in case the wife and I ever get in the mood. So far, they haven't been disturbed a peep!"
Floyd felt his stomach lurch and then nodded. “Okay! Alright, I’ll take them.”
Bruce chuckled, putting his own gumdrops in his ears and snuggling back down. He dozed off once more, and Floyd soon after, the magenta-haired Troll relieved that true to his brother’s word, he heard nothing but the sound of silence.
__________________________________________
Poppy found the brilliant sun the following morning a perfect compliment to the equally sunny attitude she had. She stretched, recomposed herself, and took a great big whiff of the fresh air once she stepped out of Rhonda. Right as she began to replay the events of the previous night, she felt a pair of hands slink around her waist, belonging to the Troll she’d shared the wonderful experience with. She giggled a little as his caress lightly tickled her sides, and she turned to face him, bestowing a quick peck upon his lips.
“Morning,” he whispered.
“Morning,” she replied. She licked her lips with a little hum, noting the flavor he’d left behind on them. “I take it coffee's brewing?” she asked.
“Mmm-hmm,” he confirmed, tipping his messy-haired blue head back towards Rhonda. “Want a cup?”
“In a little bit,” she said. “Think I’m gonna stretch my legs out here a bit first. I’m, uh… still a bit sore.” She admitted it with a blush that made Branch chuckle.
“All right.” He better adjusted his leafy vest to conceal the purplish mark on the base of his neck, bruise-like in appearance if not for the indentations indicative of teeth, if one were to look closely enough - evidence of the Pop Queen’s handiwork, no doubt.
They exchanged another sweet peck, and then Poppy was off at her sister’s side in a couple of wobbly bounds.
“Wakey, wakey!” she chirped, shaking her shoulder.
Viva gave a short yawn and grinned when her sights set on her sister. “Hey, you!” she giggled, throwing her arms around her for a hug. Taking note of her messy pink hair and worried she’d tossed and turned through the night, Viva questioned her. “You sleep okay?”
“Yeah,” Poppy replied. Better than okay, actually, she added silently, remembering Branch’s arms around her and how expertly they’d handled her.
“Oh, good!” Viva breathed out. “Um, you do know your leg warmers are inside out, right?”
Poppy grinned sheepishly when she realized her sister was right. But she couldn’t help be disoriented, not after the way Branch made her so drunk on his love. She shrugged, grateful when Clay’s awakening interrupted them.
“Ah, man, I had the best dream ever!” he declared as he stretched, sitting up in his sleeping bag.
Viva rolled her eyes. “This isn’t the one where you’re drinking hot cocoa and finishing everyone’s taxes, is it?”
Clay raised a hand. “Guilty, and quite happy to be found so!” he laughed.
Viva chuckled and turned to her sister. “That’s Clay for ya!”
Poppy shook her head with a little grin and then spotted Floyd and Bruce. “Hey, guys!” she called. “Branch is at the caterbus brewing some coffee. Want some?”
Poppy then witnessed something peculiar. At the mention of their youngest bro, Floyd’s eyes widened and he exchanged a look with Bruce. The purple-haired Troll calmly replied for the two. “I’ll take a cup, Poppy, but I think Floyd’s gonna pass. He was a little sick last night, and he’s still not up to par just yet.”
Poppy’s eyebrows creased in worry. “Oh, no! Really?” She looked to the magenta-haired Troll for an answer.
“I’ll be fine,” Floyd squeaked, clearing his throat afterwards in hopes that nobody would question him further for his strange behavior. Attention was drawn from him when John Dory leapt upon his feet, bright eyed and bushy tailed.
“Wassup, fam!” he cried, snapping his fingers. “I don’t know about you all, but I slept like a baby! A baby Branch that is.” He chuckled at his own joke, until the voice of his youngest brother stopped him.
“I thought I told you to refrain from calling me that!” Branch grumbled as he stepped towards them, sipping a cup of coffee.
“I was just playing, bro.” His expression then switched to a serious one. “For real though, dude, are you all right?”
Branch looked at him with confusion. “What’d you mean?”
John Dory exhaled. “Huh, I dunno if I was dreaming or something, but I coulda sworn I heard some screaming from you last night. And y’know, come to think of it, you too, Poppy!” JD scratched his head. “Were y’all having nightmares or something?”
In that instant, Poppy felt all the color rush to her face. Branch gagged midsip of the coffee he was drinking, and Floyd moaned, a hint of green tinting his face as he rushed into the bushes to heave what was in his stomach.
“NIghtmares!” Poppy laughed. “Nightmares he says!” She laughed until she felt herself grow light-headed, and then faint.
Not in much of a better state, Branch stood, frozen in shock and unresponsive to his surroundings, blue eyes open wide but unseeing.
“Uhhh… I feel like I missed something here,” JD said, puzzled.
Clay and Viva murmured their agreement as the former waved a hand in front of his little bro’s face and Viva fanned Poppy, who was still splayed on the ground.
“I didn’t,” Bruce mumbled.
JD’s head shot towards him. “What?”
“Nevermind,” the purple-haired Troll quickly said, plastering a nothing-is-wrong grin on his face. “Now, who wants gumdrops?”
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abyssruler · 2 years
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amor vincit mortem
pairing: zhongli x gn!reader
summary: there’s a fragility to each moment spent with you, finite and fleeting as all mortal lives are. but you always find your way back to him, even when you return missing fragments of yourself. he has loved you ever since he was naught but a mere hatchling you’d dug from the earth, and he will continue to do so through war and peace and retirement. (reincarnation au)
note: writing for one of my favorite tropes again, zhongli my beloved i will always give u happy endings, might be a bit inaccurate in some lore and timeline aspects but i tried my best to stick close, multiple character death/s (reader), depictions of blood and death
word count: 4.1k
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“Hello again.”
Morax—back in the days when he was just a little dragon incapable of much thought, back when the name Morax hadn’t even been granted to him—nuzzled his little snout against your hand.
You smoothed your fingers over his soft scales, an indication of youth in dragons, and smiled as he melted at the simple affection.
There had been a softness to that moment, a memory untouched by the grimness of war, in a time when peace reigned and the three sisters ruled over the skies, not a floating celestial castle to be seen.
He remembers your voice and your touch, the way your eyes brightened when you smiled and the way the corners of your mouth quirked when telling a story. He didn’t know your name then, only that you were a local in the nearby village who once unburied a small dragon from the earth as a child and had taken care of it since.
That dragon was, of course, him.
“Here for another meal, little dragon?”
You brought a small piece of meat to his snout, cooing when he took it from your fingers and delicately chewed on the meat.
He doesn’t remember what it tasted, only that it had a soft, chewy texture that made it easier to eat for his soft teeth that were still in the process of hardening as he aged.
A hand ran over the scales on his head.
“You’ll need a name, won’t you? Something to be remembered for all ages.” The sun had hit his eyes then, making him incapable of seeing what kind of expression you’d had. “I just know my little dragon will grow to be a fearsome one.”
“Morax!” You laughed, running as the dragon that was now at the same height as your hips chased you across the clearing. “I told you, no more meat or else you’ll become overweight!”
It wasn’t about the meat, he remembers, it was how you always seemed to shine brightest when you were running about without a care for the world around you. He’d only wanted to keep that smile on your face.
You leaned on your knees, gasping for breath, and still, you shone as radiant as the sun to his eyes.
You struggled with carting a box full of all sorts of fruit and cooked meat. He used his hardened snout to help you push the cart near the entrance of the cave he usually dwelled in.
“Thank you.” You softly patted the scales beneath his chin. “I’m not as young and spritely as I used to be.”
He huffed an indignant snort as if to disagree with you. A soft exhale left your mouth, fondness evident in the quirk of your lips.
“You understand me, don’t you? You always have, my smart little dragon.”
He sat beside you, quiet and solemn as you hummed a tune beneath your breath.
“Morax,” you started, something different in the inflection of your voice. It never returned back to its normal cadence after you caught an illness that had lasted a year and nearly took your life. “I’m not long for this world—”
He shifted in protest, a snarl in his throat that you wave away with a wrinkled hand.
“Don’t be so upset,” you soothed, “It’s simply the way of life.”
You ran a hand through the underside of his chin, feeling the hardened scales that will continue to grow stronger until it can withstand the force of steel—or a meteor.
“You’ll live for a long, long time, and by the time you reach your prime, I will be nothing but a distant memory to you.”
He remembers disagreeing but never outright conveying it to you. He had thought you understood what his silence meant. If only he’d been able to speak back then, he would have spent hours upon hours telling you how much you meant to the little dragon you had dug up from the earth.
You laid down for a nap beside him, still managing to look at him with those bright eyes of yours amidst a face weathered by time.
“My little Morax, you’re as big as a house now, aren’t you?” You had softly pet the side of his head as he curled around you. “Wake me up when the sun rises, okay? I want to hand feed you meat like I used to...”
He closed his eyes and let dreams sweep him away once he felt you fall into a deep sleep.
In the morning, he would awake to the sun casting light over him and the stillness by his side.
You never woke up again.
He took to guarding your small village from petty thieves and the occasional mercenaries sent by neighboring villages. It’s what you would’ve wanted, he thought then. You had no family, but the elders and the children and the workers you’d made friends with were dear to you, and so, they were dear to him as well.
Word spread of a village being granted the protection of a mighty dragon. More people came asking for shelter and to settle in, he never showed protest to it.
Years passed, the village grew, and he continued to wonder what it would have been like to watch over these people with you by his side.
He remembers days spent lounging in the clearing he buried your body in, an era where peace still reigned and rest was not yet a luxury he couldn’t afford.
You appeared on the second century after your passing, wide-eyed and mouth parted in awe as you stared at the large town that used to be your homely little village.
“Morax?”
He had thought it a dream then, a mirage his mind consumed. There was simply no fathomable way you were here in the flesh, alive and whole and young—so much younger than he remembered you being.
But your eyes were still the same, still as bright and resplendent as the sun. You were here. You were real.
He doesn’t know how he ever managed not to squish you beneath his weight back when he’d been young and excited with less restraint to his actions. It is a memory he remembers fondly, stored tightly within his chest, a moment of peace amidst the war looming on the horizon.
It was a comical sight, a human holding their arms out to their side yet still not managing to encompass the entirety of a dragon’s snout. He used to fit so snugly at the palm of your hand.
“Look how big you’ve grown.” You press your lips to a single scale, already as large as your head. “I have missed you, old friend.”
It was a worry that niggled at the back of his head amidst questions of how you came back and why you remember him.
Morax, for all his years alive that would seem many to mortals, was still but a young dragon then. Even when he was roughly the size of five houses.
He didn’t want to see you grow old, to watch as time eroded your spirit and left nothing but a husk of what you once were. The thought of having to relive those days when you could barely stand up to meet him at the clearing outside your village made him want to curl up and burrow deep into the earth.
He didn’t want to sleep beside you only to awake to the sight of your chest still and your breaths nonexistent.
He didn’t want to watch you die again.
The choice was taken out of his hands when he returned to his town—your town, just as much as it is his—and found it burning.
“There’s a nearby village that needs your help. Go, Morax, lend your hand to those who need it,” you had told him as you caressed his scales, and he had obeyed, because while the elders and the people come to him with their pleas and their wishes, he will only ever answer to you.
It had been a trick to place his attention away from your town.
He learned what anger meant that day, learned what it felt to crush a house beneath his claws and how to move the earth to his will and what it meant to take a life.
He was young and furious and mourning. It is a dark memory he doesn’t like to dwell on, full of pain and regret and the vicious sense of satisfaction that came with killing. It was the first time he had ever shed blood. It wouldn’t be the last.
As he watched the village be buried beneath the earth and the stone he’d called upon, he turned his back and made the long trek back to a home that was now nothing but ash and dust.
And as he rooted through the rubble in the vain hope of finding your body to bury, Morax learned what it meant to be an unwilling participant in a war.
It was as if fate was paying back the abundance of time you’d spent with him in your first life with short moments that were always cut too soon.
In your third life, you found him sleeping on the remains of what was once your town. You had wept and embraced him as much as you could, and he, in turn, tried to convey how much he had missed you.
The two of you traveled together for a while, and that life was where you rode on his back for the first time as he soared the skies.
“They’re like your eyes,” you once said, holding onto his scales as he flew above the clouds, the light of the setting sun casting the two of you in molten gold, “Golden. It’s been my favorite color ever since I first saw you open your eyes. They always shine so bright.”
You died that same day, having encountered a vengeful deity after he set foot on the ground. He had won that fight, but he wasn’t able to protect you.
It was in a battlefield that he saw you again.
He remembers how the small deity’s blood had felt upon his tongue, dripping down sharp teeth and soaking the battle happening in the ground below with blood. It had been sunny then, he remembers, when he descended from the skies in triumph and looked down the masses gazing at him with fear.
And then there was you.
Blood and dirt and other unnamable things clung to you like a second skin as you clumsily held a spear close to your chest, but you had beamed at the sight of him and yelled out his name.
“Morax!”
It was short-lived.
It had been a stray arrow, they would later plead with tears and mud streaking through their terror-filled faces. But all he cared about at that time was that one moment you dropped your spear to run to him, and the next you were falling to the ground, an arrow lodged right where your heart lay.
He left that field bloodied with corpses, your body strewn on his back as he flew to the clearing in your first life. There, he buried you beside your other incarnations.
“I’d like to settle one day, once all the fighting and killing has stopped. Maybe in a house overlooking the sea. Somewhere surrounded by mountains. Just a place where there’d be lots of space for you too.”
You leaned against the bulk of his frame, burrowed in a cliffside to wait out the fight between two gods happening on the other side of the lake.
“That was never there before,” you said, squinting at the castle in the sky as you laid on his back.
He rumbled his agreement.
You sighed, hearing the war going on below and wondering when it was all going to end.
“The stars don’t shine as bright as they used to.”
“Are you alright?!” You yelled as you frantically helped the woman—a deity—up from the ground.
Morax’s thundering roars echoed in the air as he summoned pillars from the earth and shattered the feeble ice that the opposing god put up.
The woman stared at you with wide eyes, noticing how labored your breathing was but otherwise looking unbothered by the fight happening in front of you.
“Are you not worried…?” She asked, her voice sounding as delicate as she looked.
You turned to her with a grin you’d hoped was encouraging. “There’s nothing to fear, Morax is strong!” Then, you offered her your hand. “Here, you can hold my hand if you’re afraid.”
She accepted it, feeling the tremors in her fingers calm at the warmth emanating from your palm.
“Guizhong,” she suddenly said, looking up at you, her heart racing. “Forgive my rudeness but… my name is Guizhong.”
You smiled, as bright and lovely as Morax would have described had he been there to see it. “Allow us to lend you and your people a hand, Guizhong!”
And for the first time since the war began, she felt hope blossom in her chest.
“Which life is this now?” Guizhong asked him.
“Nineteenth,” he answered, more of a growl that resembled a word. Morax, in his newly obtained form, was still not used to the ways of mortals, namely, the fact that he can now speak his thoughts out loud.
You were conversing with Cloud Retainer, something regarding a weapon that could be used to help the war. The mechanics were lost to him. For all that he could now be considered a deity, for all that the people have started calling him Rex Lapis, he was still so oblivious to the ways of the world.
Guizhong placed a hand on his shoulder, a reassuring smile on her deceptively gentle face. On that day, she promised to help him protect you.
And that life was one of the few where he got to watch you grow old.
“You don’t know how to read?” Guizhong asked you, surprise coloring her face.
You sheepishly laughed, “I’ve never been taught in all the lives I’ve lived. And most of my time with Morax was spent fighting and running from the war.”
You looked down your hands, feeling the smooth, unblemished skin of them. Young and unscarred. There had been a large gash that ran across your back in your previous life, and when the night got too cold and you were left alone with your thoughts, you felt the ache of thousands upon thousands of wounds you’d collected throughout your lives.
A dainty hand covered your own. You looked up to see Guizhong watching you with a fond smile.
“Let me teach you, then.”
Guizhong always invited you to sing to the glaze lilies scattered around the Assembly. She claimed your voice was like a melody that soothed the flowers to bloom.
In truth, she only wanted to hear you sing.
“No, that’s not how you hold chopsticks, Morax!” You laughed, taking hold of his hand and rearranging the chopsticks haphazardly held in his fingers. “There, much better.”
His fingers remained clumsy, unused to such sensations, but you promised him that he’ll get used to it in no time.
You slowly guided him through each step, gently correcting a mistake in his footwork and adjusting the spear in his hand when needed.
Morax was a fast learner.
Soon, he would develop his own way of wielding the spear, but for now, you coached him through the right techniques and laughed whenever he dropped the spear in a spin.
“The moon,” he suddenly said, looking at you with wide, earnest eyes.
“Yes, what about it?”
He seemed to struggle with finding the right words to convey what he wanted to say. You patiently sat and waited for him to gather himself.
“It’s beautiful tonight.” Then, as an afterthought, he added, “Isn’t it?”
You tilted your head to the sky, a nostalgic smile on your lips, lost in memories of days spent lazing about in that old clearing and staring at the starry sky. “It is.”
His hand felt warm around yours.
“I don’t want to die anymore.”
He held you as your blood seeped from your clothes and painted the grass a dark shade of red. It was a slow process, bleeding out, to wait for your blood to drain until your heart stopped beating and your eyes lost the light in them.
“Morax.”
You were crying, clutching your side where a god had pierced their blade clean through. You were dying so slowly, yet there was no time to get a healer.
“Please.”
Your eyes begged for an end to this pain.
His tears fell and mixed with your blood.
On your twenty-ninth life, he cradled your head to his chest and wept as he gave you a quick, painless death.
When he saw you again, he held you until the sun disappeared and his arms felt numb before reluctantly pulling away.
You held his face between the palm of your hands and kissed his forehead, your eyes red and smile brittle at the edges.
“I’ve missed you,” was all you said before you leaned close.
Your lips felt impossibly soft against his.
“Morax,” you whispered against his skin, on your thirty-first life when he finally found the courage to show you what being loved by him meant. “I love you.”
It was the first time you spoke those words to him.
It wouldn’t be the last.
He kept you awake all night, ignoring the war happening around him and pretending, just for a moment, that the world only consisted of you and him.
During your forty-second life, an anomaly happened.
He and the rest of the adepti were unable to gauge how it happened. Guizhong, for all her smarts, was not able to discern the reason for it either.
And then there was no time to ponder upon it anymore, because Osial attacks the Guili Assembly, and not only does he lose you, he also loses a friend.
Her last words to him consisted of a riddle and a memento in the form of a lock. “I never stopped searching for a reason. I think… this may be it.”
And in her eyes, he saw a confession — she had loved you too.
Thousands of years later and he is still no closer to opening it, and thus, no closer to figuring out what caused the loss of your memories.
On some lives, you remember, eyes lighting up with recognition as you abandoned everything you’d been doing to run into his arms.
“Morax,” you would whisper as he nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck.
On some lives, you would pass by him with blank eyes, the same lilt to your voice but without the fondness that came with it.
“Hello again,” he’d say.
You would smile awkwardly. “Hello?”
And he would mourn you all over again.
“He’s suffered enough, hasn’t he?”
Your words were enough to still Morax’s spear.
You knelt in front of the young-looking deity, offering your palm to him. “We will not shackle you, and neither will we force you to serve.”
His eyes were wary, yet so incredibly full of disbelief and hidden hope.
You gave him a smile you hoped was as gentle as it seemed.
Rough, battle-hardened hands clasped onto yours like a salvation.
“Please,” he whispered, something so undeniably broken in his tone as looked up at you the same way one might look up at the stars.
Later on, Morax would name that young deity Xiao.
There were tales and poems written about you. Rex Lapis and his undying lover.
It was widely romanticized and highly inaccurate. For one, he didn’t meet you in your first life as a large and intimidating dragon. He was naught but a hatchling you used to feed fruits and meat with a childish laugh. The two of you had grown up together, but where you had grown old, he remained young, a dragon who hadn’t even reached a fourth of his lifespan.
You always laughed as you read to him some of the more outlandish ones, in those lives where you remembered enough to love him as deeply as you used to.
“‘And they fornicated upon the moonlit night, a dragon and a mortal—’ I’m sorry, I can’t take this seriously.” You burst into a fit of giggles, leaning against him on your shared bed as the book you’d been holding fell to the side, forgotten.
“Shall I have a word with the authors of such books?”
“No, no!” You were quick to refuse, placing both palms on his cheeks and grinning. “They’re amusing to read. Perhaps I should commission a play, that would be so entertaining…”
He gazed at you fondly, cherishing each precious, limited time the two of you have.
When he ascended the throne of Celestia, you were the first person to greet him upon returning to Liyue.
There was a nervous edge to your smile, but still, it came as naturally as breathing to you. You often questioned it, how everything just seemed to come easily for you.
“I think I know you,” you once told him a week after you met in this life, “I just can’t remember where.”
And you would always come across the numerous retellings of your lives, hands shaking and so full of regret and grief for a life you could never quite recall.
You never failed to apologize to him after.
I’m sorry I forgot.
I’m sorry I can’t remember.
I’m sorry I don’t love you.
It became increasingly frequent with each century that passed. Only one incarnation of you every six lives remembered your past.
He made you love him in each one. Even if he had to start from the bottom, even when you looked at him without a spark of familiarity, even when it hurt—he never failed to capture your heart again and again.
The Cataclysm happened in a lifetime where you remembered.
Morax, to this day, wishes it hadn’t been the case. Perhaps then, you wouldn’t have insisted on fighting alongside him.
Perhaps then, you wouldn’t have died so early.
Your body was left beneath the rubble and ruins of Khaenri’ah’s Royal Palace. The only thing that stopped him from upturning it to search for you was the Sustainer of Heavenly Principles.
In the twentieth year after the destruction of Khaenri’ah, he made a contract with a golden haired traveler who carried the aura of the stars.
Five years after the contract was signed, your body was returned to Liyue in a casket covered with Inteyvat flowers.
He remembers waiting, and waiting, and waiting a little more until he looked up and realized that four hundred years had passed without you.
He searched each nation, visiting village upon village, hoping to hear news of you or a past life of yours having lived there, but there was nothing.
It was as if you had simply ceased to exist.
He refused to believe it.
Mountain Shaper advised him to rest.
It was strange to walk the streets of Liyue again after a hundred years of absence. He never failed to appear during the Rite of Descension, but taking on his draconic form and parading as a mortal man were two different things. And the latter, he found in all the years he’d been ruling Liyue, was much more preferable than the former.
Conversations flowed around him, and he wondered what you would have been doing had you been here with him.
He stared into the Harbor, smiling as he remembered your quiet musings during the early days of the Archon War.
I’d like to settle one day, once all the fighting and killing has stopped. Maybe in a house overlooking the sea. Somewhere surrounded by mountains. Just a place where there’d be lots of space for you too.
Settle.
It was a wishful thought, but…
He turned on his heel, mind made up.
If he couldn’t look for you, then he would have to wait for you to come to him. In the meantime, he would arrange the finest house for you to live in peace after five hundred years of being apart and a lifetime of war and bloodshed.
Morax—Zhongli sits at a table at Third-Round Knockout, leisurely sipping tea as he listens to the story teller regale the tragic tale of your second life. A little inaccurate, on a few accounts, but for the most part, it was as he remembers it.
The tea tastes exceptionally sweet today. A good omen, perhaps.
He feels the vibrations from the ground, telling of a person approaching him from behind. He lets whoever it is get close, unable to detect any malicious intent.
“That’s completely false. I, for one, never ‘wept in delight as I was reunited with my dragon lover’.”
He nearly drops his tea in shock.
He turns his head to the right, his heart in his throat as he hopes and begs that his ears did not deceive him. He sucks in a breath—
And meets the loveliest pair of eyes gazing down at him with mirth.
You smile.
“Hello again.”
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tciddaemina · 3 months
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What is the weirdest, feralest headcanon you've had about a character?
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. fuck okay this takes some thinking. weird and feral, weird and feral, hmmm.
okay, i think i have one. i'm gonna preface this by saying that svsss is a story that brings out the weird in me - the characters are all so messed up and dysfunction and weird about each other and the world is so intense and strange that its very tasty to play with. like, both the characters, plot, and setting are all so chewy and crunchy, you can just sink you're teeth right in.
bc like okay (bingqiu and monsterfucking cw here, for anyone who would prefer to keep scrolling) Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe are so utterly weird and fucked up about each other. Like, full on dysfunctionally obsessed in a way that would be like horror story levels if they were with anyone but each other (yes, even Shen Qingqiu - he is literally so obsessed with PIDW and Luo Binghe that he dies mad over it, and then spends his entire new life orbiting Luo Binghe like a planet around a sun, knowing absolutely every detail of his would-be life and who he is and what his deepest inner thoughts and traumas are - like, unreliable narrator or not, Shen Qingqiu is every bit as messed up and intense about Luo Binghe as Luo Binghe is about him).
and that's something that's very fun to play with. like, their relationship is intense, codependent, obsessive, and like, a hundred other things that irl would be a red flag, but its fiction. i know some people don't like writing or reading about unhealthy relationships or stuff that in an irl situation would be concerning, but like tbh the fact that they're so messed up and intense is half the reason they're so fun to write for. (obligatory fiction =/= reality).
anyway so, yeah they have a messed up very obsessive relationship and one of the things that's sort of fun to play with is how far they'd go for each other. like, how far their affection stretches, and how that would influence their reactions to situations. and you know me, i'm a good fan of some of that eldritch and monster content.
bc right like, these two are utterly fixated on each other. just, utterly gone. and so yeah, headcanon, i feel like both of these guys wouldn't blink an eye at even the most weird, off the page monster-fucking you have ever seen, if the person was the other one.
okay so right - on Shen Qingqiu's side we already have some pretty eldritch stuff to work with. like he's literally a bodysnatcher who took over someone else who would have/did die, and assumed his identity and pretty much got away with it. and you can spin that up into something even more fun. like maybe Luo Binghe, being half demon and with heavenly demon blood, has a bit of idk, extrasensory perception or something like that. so he wakes up one morning in the woodshed to this immense feeling of just DREAD hanging over the mountain, which no one else seems to be feeling or reacting to. and it only gets worse when he's summoned to see his master, to the point where approaching the bamboo house is literally making him break out in a cold terrified sweat. and when he see's Shen Qingqiu he just freezes, because looming above his master's body is an immense faceless shadowy figure with a dozen arms, whose body is sewn through with bleeding golden thread, which runs down to his master's body, stitching the two together. and then the plot continues like normal, and this new not-Shen Jiu gives him the medicine, and Luo Binghe gets used to the feeling of immense eldritch dread and the plot plays out like normal with Luo Binghe still being like 😍😍😍 and still absolutely being dtf this terrifying towering shadow bleeding figure.
and its so tasty! because you can flip it around as well. Luo Binghe would 1000% willingly and enthusiastically monsterfuck for Shen Qingqiu, but Shen Qingqiu would also do the same for him (albeit with a bit more crisis about it, but only so far as him "not being gay" is the problem. the fact that Luo Binghe is a monster barely registers).
and so like - alright, another situation. Say Luo Binghe's demon heritage is a bit more intense than just 'gets a demon forehead mark and some demonic energy' and that when he gets hucked into the endless abyss and is forced to survive its brutal conditions, his human form can't tolerate it and the rest of his inheritance comes through. and you could play with a few things here - maybe something dragon-like (not in a, ooh this a sexy dragon person kind of way, but like, Luo Binghe is literally a dragon kind of way, scarred and fire-breath and dark edgy scales and all), or something a bit more demonic and eerie. but like, whatever you go with, the end result is that Luo Binghe is distinctly non-humanoid and deeply scary-looking. and so when Luo Binghe does claw his way out of the abyss, Shen Qingqiu is *shocked pikachu face* about it, because this didn't happen in the original. and idk, maybe Luo Binghe goes through a whole thing of visiting Shen Qingqiu in his dreams, and being very circumspect, and never actually turns up in person in front of him, bc Luo Binghe is deeply insecure and is certain Shen Qingqiu will be revolted or terrified and reject him as a monster (after all, he threw him into the abyss when he looked human, what would he do seeing Luo Binghe like this?). eventually it comes out and Shen Qingqiu ends up face to face with him, and Luo Binghe's trying to cringe and shy away and throw himself on his sword or whatever, and Shen Qingqiu is just like shut up! monster or not you're still my student! and anyway, Luo Binghe ends up staying with Shen Qingqiu again or something, and they do a dumb thing where they're basically speed running a long term relationship without realising (well, Luo Binghe realises, and he's tormented about it, bc on the one hand he wants all the affection he can get from Shen Qingqiu, on the other hand he's got paralyzing guilt about the fact he's sort of taking advantage) and it culminates in Shen Qingqiu finally cottoning on and having a panic about it (about the gay bit, more than the monster bit) before sorting it out and 100% being down to bang Luo Binghe anyway, despite him not being remotely human looking. And Luo Binghe is just dying, because like, you know a person really loves you when they love you even when you're a terrifying non-human monster, and Shen Qingqiu is discovering all sorts of things about himself, namely how little he bats an eye at the thought of doing some truly obscene monsterfucker shit - because it's Binghe, so of course its hot (nevermind that Shen Qingqiu is a bit too into monsters away, so is sort of also getting a kick out of it just for the chance to study monster!Binghe so up close)
And anyway this is how you get me idly considering story ideas like 'hey what if Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe got dropped messily into a scifi setting and Shen Qingqiu glitched on the way because of system and so ends up in a terrifying carnivorous!super-dangerous!mantis-monster-person!body, still dressed in his robes, while Binghe is still basically just a normal person who looks the same, and they get gently arrested by the galactic police who are like "holy shit what the fuck is this walking person-eater doing in the port, it's about to be a bloodbath" whereas Binghe, beside him is just like "don't you dare be mean to my husband, shizun is very gentle!" and anyway Shen Qingqiu diffuses things enough for them to get escorted to a fancy suite (jail cell) while things get looked into, and the poor people surveilling them have to watch in rapt horror/awe as Binghe goes about seducing Shen Qingqiu, who is sure Luo Binghe must be revolted by his terrifying new form, while Luo Binghe proves that absolutely isn't the case. Shizun is shizun no matter his body, and Luo Binghe loves every version of him, and is absolutely so so keen to get it on and explore this new body'
and so that's how i get to there, and then i have to think about the fact that the premise is so absolutely wild and out of the left field that i would have no idea how to justifying coming up with it or wanting to write it. so yeah, wild and feral headcanon - Luo Binghe and Shen Qingqiu are absolutely monsterfuckers, but only ever for each other
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storiesbyrhi · 7 months
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Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline
Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence/some infrequent gore, swearing, animal death, no beta, death in childbirth (mentioned, not described), abusive parents, suicide, spiders/bugs, grief/mourning; warnings updated each chapter.
Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?
Chapter Summary: We speak to those beyond. 3668 words.
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1986
Time was not linear. Nor was it circular. It was an overlapping collage of everything that had ever happened. A compressed murder board. A grimoire swallowed whole. Eddie remembered it all.
A century of Eptesicus fuscus, a shell of consciousness. Hawkins. A sickness. A witch’s healing hand. Before that, the flatlands. A coven. You. Oh, you, his little witch.
“Those are not your apples.” Cleansing crystals by moonlight. Amabel, little witch. Lonely vampire. Collecting flowers and berries. Green milkweed. Unconditional good. A forest gate. “Bloodline magic, far and wide.” A bet, a kiss, and a name.  “I envy your world of absolutes. And I love you so.” Marguerite du Bruyeres’ letters to Guillaume du Bruyeres. Unmistakably vampire carnage. Blood of my blood.
Eddie let you slip onto the pillow, then escaped out of the trailer and into the early morning. The sun would rise soon but he needed to move. Run. Scream.
The sisters – Sally and Gillian. Penelope, the spellcaster. “By your hand he is taken and I die on this night, or you let us go and free yourself of this burden.” Transformation. Walking through the grass. Black-eyed Susan, tansy, elecampane, yellow carnation, cyclamen. Blood of my blood.
He remembered who he was before you. And before Roanoke. His accent and gait may have changed, but he was the same sad, doomed soul he’d been then. Still a monster.
Eddie sobbed. He went to the forest gate on the outskirts of town and laid in the grass, looking up at the starry sky, letting the shame and horror and regret drown him.
What was he to do? How would he tell you? Should he tell you? Would you be able to see it on his face?
He waited until the very last minutes of night to return to Forest Hills. Eddie moved slowly through the town; slowly, at least, for him. He could picture it all now, how it used to be. The dirt roads. The vacuum of quiet that proceeded the era of constant electrical white noise.
You slept well into the morning, but roused yourself before midday. Eddie was watching Star Wars: Episode IV – A New Hope. He seemed immersed, so you went about making breakfast. Assam tea with cocoa husks. Oatmeal with sultanas and brown sugar.
There was an awkwardness to Eddie when you sat next to him, curling up close enough to touch. Your mind cycled through possibilities with rapid fire speed. The notion it kept circling back to was – did he regret kissing you?
“Chewie reminds me of the creatures that live in the woods. Have you seen them? Over in the north-west?” you asked, trying to break the ice.
Eddie nodded. “They are shy,”
“Yeah. The humans don’t know about them. Well. They do, but most of them think it’s a hoax. They’re considered cryptids… Which is like, an animal or creature that may or may not exist…” You were rambling. “When they see one, they call it Bigfoot… But Chewie definitely looks like one.”
Eddie didn’t answer. You hadn’t appeared to notice the significance of him remembering something, even something innocuous like the existence of things in the woods.
You finished eating, washed your dishes, and returned to the couch. Star Wars ended and you had no real choice but to address the atmosphere.
“Are you okay?” you asked Eddie.
He looked at you, something in his expression you couldn’t quite place. He nodded. “Yes… Perhaps on edge regarding what your Witches will tell,”
“Yeah… Well then, let’s not put it off any longer.”
Directing Eddie to sit across the room, you knelt at your altar and lit two candles. A pale blue candle for truth. A darker indigo candle for intuition and breaking through illusion. With paper in front of you and a pen in hand, you closed your eyes.
The Witches Who Came Before were always with you, so you needn’t call for them. Instead, you spoke to them with clear intention.
“It is not my place to question you. But it is your place to guide me. To offer truth. Long ago, you foretold of us leaving the flatlands. Then, you warned me of returning. What would have happened if I had heeded that warning?”
The temperature of the room dropped and the air grew thick. Eddie felt his skin tingle and prickle, a frisson of fear and excitement running through him.
“I know you see him for what he is. Without him, Vecna would not have been defeated. Can you say without doubt that he would have been without my intervention?”
It was a challenge to them. If you and Eddie hadn’t destroyed Vecna, could your coven have stopped him? Could all the witches in the world have stop him? Maybe, sure. However, somewhere deep down you knew the answer. Vecna did not belong to this plane of existence. He wasn’t even of the world he inhabited. And a witch can only fight within the boundaries of the natural world.
If you had not come to Hawkins, if you had not found the bat and restored Eddie to his vampire form, Vecna would have taken the town, then the world.
The Witches were silent. It told you that you were right.
“You said that not all callings are sanctified, but that the voice calling me was coming into focus for you. Do you know what brought me here?”
The flames flickered and your hand picked up the signal. The words scrawled along the paper faster than you could read.
“Life and Death have no voice… They do not come calling in the night,” The Witches said. “Their siblings are to follow suit, yet they are wayward in their youth,”
“Which of their siblings called to me?” you asked.
“Destiny was formed in shattered ruins.”
The letters were so unfamiliar, you weren’t sure which witch was speaking to you. It didn’t matter. You had an answer. Destiny had broken free of the rules and reached out to you, urging you to come to Hawkins.
“If I was fated to return to Hawkins, then I was fated to find him?”
Y. E. S. was written over and over, the word tracing itself again and again.
“Why me?”
“Like calls to like. Fate to fate. Love to love,” they said. “History will not repeat itself,”
“A history I do not remember.”
For a moment, quiet. “Lore must be rewritten. You must remember.”
You looked over at Eddie, who could not see any of the words on the page. He was watching you intently, something so human behind his eyes.
“How?” you asked The Witches. “How can I remember?”
“By definition. Blood for blood. Magic for magic.”
You didn’t understand but it felt like enough information that you could figure it out. There was one more thing you needed to know. “The coven… Did I betray them or have they betrayed me?”
“Knowledge is… a creator’s prerogative.”
The pen dropped and the flames were snuffed by an unseen power. You breathed out and read the pages again. Eddie came to sit opposite you. He took the paper.
“Destiny is… a sentient thing?” Eddie asked.
“It’s not meant to be. Forces like fate and life and death shouldn’t… proactively… change the course of what happens on Earth. Not for good reason,”
“I assume we will not hear this reason from Destiny,”
“No… But… It’s an answer. I was called here to find you so we could kill Vecna.”
It was a hypothesis you had both considered. It should have felt satisfying to have it confirmed, yet it was a shallow kind of resolution.
“And, it had to be you,” Eddie said. He knew why it had to be you. No other witch would have saved a vampire. It pained him to see you confused and lost.
“When I get my memories back, I’ll know why it had to be me,”
“By definition. Blood for blood. Magic for magic,” Eddie read off the page. You nodded. “By definition, you are a witch, you are magic. Therefore, it is through magic that you will find your memories,” he reasoned.
It clicked into place in your mind. “And by definition, you are a vampire… blood… so… Through blood you’ll get yours back?” you guessed.
When you looked up at Eddie, you expected to see your own excited expression mirrored. Instead, there was restraint. He broke eye contact almost immediately and began to nod, standing up and walking away.
“Yes. Although I don’t-” he began.
“Stop,” you whispered.
You got up and followed him across the room, he took a step to move away from you but you grabbed him by the wrist. Eddie was helpless as you squinted your eyes and studied his face. When you figured it out, a small gasp slipped from your lips and you let go of him.
As you went to speak, your voice cracked and you had to start again. “How long?”
Eddie said your name with too much softness.
“No. No. Don’t… Don’t do that. How long have you remembered? Do you remember everything? When… When did you remember?” You felt like you were going to throw up.
It hurt.
Not the nausea or the sudden headache, but the deceit. You had thought you and Eddie were a united front. A team. But he had lied to you.
“Only last night, but-”
“Last night?! Was that before or after we…” You couldn’t bring yourself to say it. Now that your face was contorted with fear and sadness, Eddie’s mirror yours.
“Please, let me tell you. I’ll tell you everything,” he begged. His hand reached out; he wanted to brush the tears from your cheeks.
You flinched and Eddie moved back in response.
Had you been stupid to trust a vampire? Was everything you felt about Eddie misguided? Were all your bad decisions going to lead to a reckoning, where excommunication was the best outcome you could hope for?
Eddie wanted desperately to spill it all out. To tell you everything that had happened in 1836. To warn you against trusting your coven. To help you find your memories, and maybe Kelsey’s too. But the more he pushed, the more you pulled away. He’d never had faith in anything, but he demanded it of himself in that moment. Have faith in fate. Have faith in his little witch.
Your mind was having trouble holding any one thought. Normally, you’d be cycling through them all, but it felt like your brain was empty. Long hallways leading to unfurnished rooms. Cavernous spaces. Haunted. You were frozen on the spot, watching Eddie watch you. Then, everything came into sharp focus at the sound of a knock on the trailer’s front door.
The tension was popped and you choked back a half-sob. Eddie hid himself in the bedroom, closing the door behind him, as you answered. He climbed onto the bed and curled up, regret washing over him as he closed his eyes and listened.
Sunlight poured in as the door swung open, Robin and Nancy’s shadows casting long across the trailer’s carpet. You frowned, at first, confused by their appearance. The grief was so intense that it was almost an entity standing beside them. You understood then.
“Hey,” Nancy greeted weakly.
“Hi,” you replied.
It felt strange following a normal social script with them. Yet, you all persisted.
“This is Dustin,” she introduced, taking a step to reveal a child standing behind her.
You knew who he was and nodded politely in his direction. He was already crying. Sighing, you looked away from them, out at Forest Hills. Life was returning to it, but you had been too busy with your own shit to notice.
“It might be too early for this,” you told them.
“It’s past midday,” Robin countered.
“No, I mean, too early in the grieving process. It’s only been a couple days,” you explained.
“Are you saying that… He won’t… Answer us… yet? Or that we aren’t ready to talk to him?” Nancy asked. “Because, no offense, but you don’t know us well enough to tell us if we’re ready,”
“We’re ready,” Robin added.
You sucked your bottom lip in, forgetting the split. You winced at the pain, tasted the blood. The blood. Was that how Eddie got his memory back? Had he kissed blood from your mouth and found history in it?
“I didn’t get to say goodbye,” Dustin squeaked. The boy’s face was pure misery. His nose was red from rubbing it with tissues. His eyes were bloodshot. He was clenching his jaw.
Stepping aside, you nodded. “Okay. Come in.”
Eddie stayed where he was, knowing it was not his place to intrude on such a private event.
You cleared the altar in the middle of the lounge room and directed the teens to sit around it. They watched as you gathered items from around the place and mumbled to yourself while scribbling into a notebook.
“Where there is death, there have always been attempts to commune with the dead. It is not a practice that belongs strictly to witches. Since the beginning of time, humans have sought out methods to speak to those they’ve lost. Where connection has been made, it is usually more to do with the dead than the methods of the living, but nonetheless, it has happened.”
Nancy was listening intently, ever the student. Robin and Dustin both looked at each other, sharing inpatient expressions.
“It’s important to understand history. If you want to participate in the craft, you owe it at least that,” you told them. “Our way of bridging us and them is dependent on the dead. How they appear is dictated by them entirely,”
“What does that mean?” Nancy asked.
“It means, I can send them a message and open the doorway, but if and how they walk through it has nothing to do with me. They could send a single message back. Just an echo I hear. Their form may appear, ready to hold conversation. Alternatively, they may close the door and lock it. You need to be prepared for any of these outcomes,”
“He’ll want to talk to us,” Dustin said. “I know he will.”
You hoped he was right.
If the altar was at the center of an invisible pentagram, you placed an object at each point. A small plate of chunks of cedarwood, burning slowly. Black onyx. Sprigs of vervain. A bowl of moon water. Finally, a white candle burning at where the top of the pentagram would be.
You sat at the altar and used a pin to open a tiny wound in your finger. Closing your eyes and letting the blood roll down your hand, you spoke. “I offer my blood, the blood of a born witch, in payment of passage into the ether.” You opened your eyes and looked at the teens. “You can call to him,” you instructed.
They looked between themselves, silently figuring out who would go first. Naturally, Nancy took a deep breath in. Her eyes glazed over with tears. Her voice was small. “Steve? Are you there?”
She looked to you for guidance; you nodded for her to continue.
“Steve… It’s Nancy… Robin and Dustin are here too… We…” She had to stop to steel her nerves. “We miss you. And. Um. We… we wanted…” It was suddenly impossible for her to say the words ‘to say goodbye.’ Nancy started to cry.
“Hey- hey, dingus,” Robin took over. “Are you there? You’re probably busy… hitting on ghost chicks already… But, um, if you could just… just tune in for a minute…”
Everyone’s attention snapped to the bowl of water as it shook and spilled. You felt him first. Warmth. Steve Harrington felt warm.
“He’s here,” you told them. “He’s listening.”
They all focused, trying to sense what you did. Slowly, his outline was becoming visible to you. He was behind his friends, leaning against the trailer’s wall, by the door. Steve’s arms were crossed against his chest and one leg was folded, foot flat against the wall. He appeared casual, already at peace with his death.
“Your friends wanted to say goodbye to you,” you said to him.
“Are you like…” Steve waved his hands in the air. “Like a witch?”
You nodded.
“All this is… Are you a- a good witch?”
“Was that a genuine question or are you quoting The Wizard of Oz?” you asked him.
Robin covered her face with her hands as Dustin rolled his eyes.
“I thought dying, might, you know, level him up?” Dustin whispered through his tears.
“I can hear you,” Steve said.
“Does he know we tried… we…” Nancy cut through the comedy with her grief, getting stuck on her words again.
Steve nodded. He moved through the trailer, his form semi-transparent and snapping with residual energy. He sat next to you, looking over at his friends. 
“He knows you tried to save him. He knows you didn’t want to leave him there,” you told them.
“Tell Dustin that he doesn’t need to feel guilty. I’m glad he wasn’t there,” Steve said.
“It’s good you weren’t there, Dustin. Steve is thankful you were safe and that you didn’t have to see him in the end,”
“And tell him that he’s the coolest kid I ever knew. That I figured that out on the train tracks. He’s cool and he’s so smart. Twice as smart as me. More, probably. He’s gonna grow up and be the kind of man I wish I was.”
You watched Steve as he spoke. The way he looked at Dustin with admiration in his eyes. Like this kid who probably worshipped him was actually the hero of the group.
You relayed Steve’s message word-for-word. Dustin whimpered and let Nancy wrap an arm around him.
“Thanks, man,” Dustin managed to get out. “I love you.”
Steve looked to Robin next. “I don’t know how to explain it to her,” he told you.
“It’s okay. I think she’ll understand,”
“Yeah… That’s it though. She gets me. And I get her. Like… I feel normal around her. I can just be… me. She’s my best friend… I have a shit load of regrets but not knowing Robin sooner is right at the top of that list. Tell her… that she’s so much braver than she thinks she is. And that she’s smart in a way nobody else is… And that she totally deserves to be loved. And not by some girl who keeps it a secret. Nothing like that. She deserves the whole love story movie thing… romantic comedy with the happy ending. Can you tell her that?”
You could and you did.
Robin nodded to herself in a self-soothing action, then pulled her knees up to her chest and started to rock. Steve frowned at her.
“Tell her that she should still go on the trip we were thinking about,”
“He says you should still go on the trip,” you said to her.
Robin barked out a broken laugh. “Sunshine, beers, and babes,” she said.
“Oh! And tell her if someone pauses Fast Times at Ridgemont High at 53 minutes and 5 seconds, she knows what it means.”
Robin laughed again and nodded. “Noted.”
Steve nodded along with her. “Maybe she should take Nancy on the trip. They’d actually make really good friends if they got to know each other,”
“I think they’re doing that,” you told him.
“That’s good…” He looked at Nancy. “I had the chance to tell her everything, near the end. Got some of it… Tell her… Shit. I don’t know how to say it without sounding like I’m blowing smoke up her ass,”
“You’re up Nancy. He needs a second. Says he doesn’t know how to tell you what he needs to without sounding like he’s blowing smoke up your ass.”
Everyone laughed. Except Steve. He held his hands up in question. “What the hell, man? You said you were a good witch!”
You liked Steve.
“Okay… She needs to really believe what I told her. About how she really helped me stop being such an asshole. And that it’s okay how it ended between us. I was stuck in the present but Nancy sees the future. Big plans, you know? She should know that’s a good thing.”
As soon as you started to give Nancy the message, she burst into tears again.
“Tell her that I love that she always trusts her gut. And that she’ll always look so hot with a shotgun… And tell her that I’ll say hi to Barb for her.”
The room fell into silence after the last of Nancy’s goodbye was said. Nobody was ready to move on just yet. After a few minutes of reflection, Steve’s form began to flicker. He knew what it meant. When you sat up straight, the others all looked at you.
“I gotta go,” Steve said.
“Yeah,” you replied softly. “Here. Hold my hand.”
Steve frowned, unsure of what would happen. Still, he thought it best to do what a good witch said. He took your hand and felt a zap of electricity or something magic.
“Any last words?” you asked him.
“Uh, yeah,” he said. The others all gasped. Steve looked to them then back to you. “They can hear me?”
Robin started to sob again. Dustin nodded.
“Oh, shit, okay. Shit… Hi… Shit…”
“It’s okay,” you told him, squeezing his hand.
“Yeah… Uh… Just… It’s okay, you know? It… it had to be this way. There’s already plenty of Steves in the world, you know? But there’s only one Dustin Henderson. One Robin Buckley. One Nancy Wheeler. The world needs you guys. So, it’s okay. I’m okay. I love you.”
The others cried and said goodbye. They held each other and let themselves feel it all.
Steve’s hand slowly faded out of yours, until there was nothing left but his warmth and the memory of him etched into his friends' minds like love letters swiped through wet concrete.
End Note: This chapter was written very much in collab with @dr-aculaaa, my resident Steve expert. Thank you so much! I hope you like how the scene turned out.
Chapter seventeen is a little bit of an interlude, it's an ode to both Steve and to the magic that runs through this story. But also... now she knows Eddie knows... yikes.
Grimoire updated!
Fic Taglist:  @paranoidmunson  @idkidknemore @paprikaquinn @stardustworlds @loz-brooke @wyverntatty @vintagehellfire @dark-academia-slut @scarletwitchwhore @becks1002 @mrsdollardog @heyndrix @luceneraium @rosaline-black @devilinthepalemoonlite @goldencherriess @iamwhisperingstars @wiltedwonderland @blueywrites @breezybeesposts @jadehowlettthewolf @spikesvamp79 @foreveranexpatsposts @tortoiseshellspells @wingedpeachjudgegiant @stardustmunson @live-love-be-unique @fangirling-4-ever @reanimated-alice @b-irock @gh0stlybunnie @myown-worstenemy-2003 @woozzz @cyberxlust @hiscrimsonangel @buckysbarne @m00nlight101 @word-wytch @spicysix @briasnow-blog @goth-cowgirl-03
All Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @sweetpeapod @thorfemmes  @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob  @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @mel-the-fangirl @eddies-hid3out @siren-lungs @aheadfullofsteverogers @hiscrimsonangel
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poetthewriter · 6 months
Note
Excuse me sir, may I have some Etho fluff? Just a little to spare.
Drink water and touch grass! -🪓anon
KitsuneEthoslab x GnReader
Cookie Kisses
𝑯𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒕𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒇𝒕= 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒃&𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒄𝒆𝒔🌱🧄🌿
The sky is dark and the shopping district is silent as soft white snow falls down from the sky, a gently lit lantern sways back and forth as the light guides your way, heat realises its self from the tiny crackling fire but the heat is only enough to warm the frosted feeling in you finger tips. snow crunches underneath warm boots and the wind harshly snaps you face.
walking through the shops and stores a joyful smile forms on your face the beautiful blue glow reaches you as you look through the widows of the alley sanctuary, your eyes shimmer reflecting the enchanting view and from afar someone admires the charming looks that belong to you.
Etho sits like a cat on a firm branch of a spruce tree, one by one 9 tails show them self's behind his back matching the color of the freezing snow and mimicking the chilled wind, his tails resembles the tail of an arctic fox snowy white with soft periwinkle tips.
Ethos hair falls over his face as as he tilts his head onto his hand, you continue walking your cold path but a patch of ice is not so happy to let you pass on without harm, hidden under the snow you trip, slipping back onto the ice.
Holding your head soothing the flashes of pain pounding on the back of your head, a silhouette stands in front of you hold out a hand to pick you up from your pained state, "Are you alright dear" Ethos tall stance lowers as he puts an arm around you picking you up. "i would offer you some ice to help your head but i don't think you need more, already got enough ice to the head" he laughs out breathily.
As you pull your self up your friend supports you with his arm, feeling a bit dizzy still Ethos pulls you in to Scars cookie shop sitting you down to rest for a moment. "thanks Etho" you look at him with a smile and he returns one right away.
"Anytime, So Y/n what ya doing out shopping so late?" Etho responds in his quiet sweet deep voice.
"Well I'm going on a trip soon to some other servers to go scouring for some gifts for everyone I know its still quite early but I'm always rushing and I'm not to good at keeping up with getting all the gifts, I came to grab some elytra's". you respond with a embarrassed tone.
"ah I see well are you feeling alright now?"
"oh yeah, don't worry ill live"
Etho stand up and quickly grabs a cookie from Scars shop counter leaving him some cash and bringing it back over to you, your eyes question him at why he bought you one, Scars shop is fairly new and you haven't had the time to check out and support you good friends business so unbeknownst to you you didn't know the spell put on the tasty cookies.
"Oh, thank you Etho" you say to him as he hands you a cookie, slowly you take a bite out of the cookie as you close your eyes, soft and chewy and... huh? opening your eyes you see yourself teleported right Infront of Etho, of course embarrassed you go to get of of him but his hand pulls you in stroking your cheek.
"Y/n" he looks at you with loving eyes, pulling down his mask he looks at you again, "may i kiss you?" your heart strings pull tight and you feel as if the air has been knocked out of your lungs, looking as his face you stare in shock, Etho and yourself have known each other for years now he has been there and been by your side.
It was him all along, you and him. he watched over you taking care of you and being your best friend, you and him all along.
your face warms up as he awaits you answer and finally you speak up. "yes" you say to him, his face leans in and his lips are warm its only a peck and it only lasts a few moments but its full, full of love.
"That is one gift off your list" he smile holding you "may i take you home lovely?" he looks at you with a smirk pulling his mask up again, without responding you grab his hand and walk out of the shop, as the two of you walk past the spot of ice you tripped on he looks over at it and speaks up.
"What, lovely weather"
A/n-sorry it took so long hope ya can forgive me 🪓💕
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absolutebl · 20 days
Text
This Week in BL - Lesbians WIN & I'm excited about a Thai BL again!
Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.
April 2024 Wk 4
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Ongoing Series - Thai
My Stand-In (Thai Fri iQIYI) ep 1 of 12 eps - Adaptation of Chinese novel Professional Body Double by Shui Qiang Cheng. Stars Up (Lovely Writer) and Poom (Bake Me Please) directed by the same team as KP (not a recommendation IMHO - my biggest criticism of KP was the clashing directing styles). The MDL description made it sound complicated af but actually it's not so bad. In fact it's GOOD.
Stuntman Joe dies on the job and wakes up in the body of another Joe who has an entirely different life. But our Joe just gets his new body right back into his old existence, full of friends, enemies, and one troublesome ex. Poom is absolutely killing it in the lead. Mek is perfectly cast as the Actor du Jerk. I’m not sold on Up’s bratty brokenhearted rich kid... yet. The show though, I like it. I like a one (two) night stand starting things off and I like a lot of morally gray characters. Fun fun!
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Deep Night (Thurs iQiyi) ep 8fin - The lesbian moms are the cutest thing in the world and my favorite thing this week. Bar none.
Summation:
It's about a host club and all the gay boys in it and some stuff that's not important because... PEOPLE OF EARTH WE HAVE A HONEST REP OF POLY IN A BL. Stand up and raise your hands in prayer to the Thai BL gods because sure as shit no one else was ever going to give this to us. For that alone this show gets 8/10 from me. Bonus Lesbian moms and great kisses.
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Two Worlds (Thurs iQIYI) ep 7 of 10 - Say what you want about MaxNat all these years that they've been paired makes them great onscreen boyfriends. And you know me, I'm a total sucker for linguistic negotiation. Makes my heart go all mushy. That said, now that the leads are together, I’m really uninterested in all the drama around the ex-boyfriend/triangle. I'm glad this is only 10 eps.
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1000 Years Old (Thurs iQIYI) ep 11 of 12 - They gave me the tiniest teaser for the kinky vampire BL that I have wanted my whole life. And now I'm just fucking annoyed with the rest of the show. 
We Are (Weds iQIYI) ep 3-4 of 16 - Q & Toey are the only interesting thing going on. I actually didn’t like this pair in My School President, but I’m enjoying them here. The others are all fine but these two have my heart. I have questions like: did Phum ever get his shopping bags back? And why is Phum driving a different colored car half way through the ep?
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Only Boo! (Sun YouTube) ep 3 of 12 - The quality is good (it’s GMMTV) but the acting is... not. Still I loved that Moo just made the confession for both of them. Very in character. Does this plot remind anyone else of Footloose? Just me? Side couple was cute but now a bit too stalker for me. 
Ongoing Series - Not Thai
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Unknown (Taiwan Tues YouTube & Viki) ep 10 of 12 - It’s fantastic. Such a great show. We are so lucky. This is basically Taiwan’s The Eights Sense. I didn’t know they had it in them, but I’m really glad that they did.
Living With Him AKA Kare no Iru Seikatsu (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 3 of 10 - As JBL’s go this is way more my speed (than Alaska). It’s just so sweet and awkward but charming about it. The confession was so earnest. 
Blue Boys (Korea YouTube) 2 of ? No MDL link - It’s very sexy this one. Not sure what Korea thinks it's doing, but I’m not mad about it. 
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Gray Shelter (Korea Thurs iQIYI) ep 5fin - summation: About a slacker nursing a crush on the (brief) older stepbrother who abandoned him. Upon finding him again he moves in with him, upends the mans lost suffering life. A dark gritty piece with confusing subs making it too chewy to really grok. It's trying to do too much for its length. The tension is real and the acting is good, it's just everything else stymied clean execution of the core concept. Frankly I spent this show expecting (and wanting them) to just fall into bed together - in a kind of desperate fight sex. It didn’t happen, and I’m disappointed by the non-ending we got. (Whether it’s going to have more in the series or not.) 7/10 I'm open to changing the rank if a part two fixes this one's flaws.
Boys Be Brave AKA Roommates (Korea Thurs Viki) ep 1-2 of 8 - Oh dear. Terrible hair. Jock nerd pairing. OCD baby cakes. Cohabitation trope. Killer side couple. Def unhinged. 
At 25:00 in Alaska AKA 25 Ji Akasaka de (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 2 of 10 - I’m still genuinely not sure about this one. It’s just a little too awkward for me in the wrong way. I expect all Japanese BL to have a certain aura of awkwardness so I don’t know what it is about this one turnign me off. I do enjoy that we’re getting both stories, the one between the actors, and a little bit of the roles that they’re playing on screen but... yeah
Love is like a Cat (Korea Mon Viki) eps 7-8 of 12 - The leads finally had a moment but there is negative chemistry. Why am I watching this? 
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It's airing but...
Lady Boy Friends (Thai WeTV grey) 16 eps - reminds me a bit too much of Diary of Tootsies only high school. Not my thing. DNF unless it turns a corner and is truly amazing.
Memory in the Letter (Thai WeTV) - 6 eps, when it's done, tell me if I should bother?
In case you missed it
Kiseki Chapter 2 (Sun iQIYI) 6 eps - finished its run but I won't be finishing it. Stays dropped.
GMMTV announced the second half of their 2024 line up. I got excited and picked my favorites, details + trailers here. Basically my ranking is:
The Heart Killers
ThamePo
Revamp
Sweet Tooth
Perfect 10 Liners
The Ex-Morning
Ossan’s Love Thailand
Next Week Looks Like This:
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What happened?
Knock-Knock Boys (Thai WeTV) - 4 college friends conspire to help their friend lose his virginity. Familiar faces like Seng (yes, Billy's previous pairing) and Best, news here. But will it actually air this month?
Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.
THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENT
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I have adopted him. He is MINE. I love him, your honor. (The Stand In)
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I love them SO MUCH. (Deep Night)
(Last week)
Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.
The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire
If ya wanna be tagged each week leave a comment and I will add you to the template. Easy peesy.
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Text
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Minotaur
Concept art for The Elder Scrolls: Online
*Artist Unknown* If anyone knows the artist comment below
-Namira cultist notes: Came across this one dead in the wild. Not sure how it died, but what a find!
The tongue and ribs were superb, and the shanks were so dense I almost broke my knife cutting into them. Most surprisingly of all, its flesh tastes more human than bull. The bones took a bit of effort to break, but sucking out the marrow was divine and well worth the effort.
By the time I got to it's Jerall Mountain Oysters, I was still hungry but Chewy was whining so I gave the delicates as a treat for his companionship. I tossed them up in the air and each one had a squishy *pop* as Chewy jumped and caught them with his fangs.
Remind me to never piss off a Guar!
I may never get another opportunity like this again and am deeply grateful to our Lady of Decay for blessing me. 10/10 meal.
I may keep a horn as both a memento and as a throw toy for Chewy.
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zweetpea · 7 months
Text
Happy Birthday My Love
Happy birthday L
ao3 version: here
It was the best day of the year. That is to say it was Halloween, and more importantly your husband L’s birthday.
I know right? You snatched the greatest detective in the world? Obviously, you’re beautiful. Anyway enough about you!
————
You met him in a cafe in NYC when he was 23 and you were 21. You were reading a Sherlock novel, he ordered 14 big cookies, 2 strawberry slices shortcakes, Jasmine tea with a bowl of sugar cubes, and a banana split. He sat right by your table and you looked over with concern. 
“…are you okay?”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m concerned for your health. You can’t seriously eat all of that in one sitting.”
“Why can’t I?”
“Because that’s not a proper lunch.” You say as you lift up your drink.
“Of course not. This is my pre lunch snack to get my brain stimulated.” At his statement you spit out your drink in surprising.
“What are you, diabetic? How can someone eat so much and yet be so skinny.”
“I find that you can burn calories by using your brain.”
“Okay Einstein. Just don’t drop dead anytime soon. I’m just here on vacation, I don’t need the police suspecting me to be the serial killer going around.”
“Why would they think that? You’re just a tourist.”
“I don’t find most police to be very bright or effective. Private Investigators do more work in a week than any beat cop could do in their entire life.”
The strange man was silent for a second, so you assumed that the conversation was over. However you weren’t expecting him to hold out a cookie for you. “Take it. Movie theater popcorn isn’t that good.”
“The hell?”
“Your tickets. Jaws, 1:15. I assume that your waiting for someone. You only got a drink and during lunch hour most people buy food.”
“Oh really? When do you have lunch, if this is your snack?” 
“Same time as your movie. The only difference between then will be I’ll be dinning on fine quality food and you’ll be having stale popcorn and processed butter.” You look away. “Did I strike a nerve.”
“No offense but you’re a stranger. I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to spill my guts and whole life story to you.”
“Yet you asked me if I was okay.”
“Yeah, I’ve never seen anyone eat so many sweets. Is it a crime to be concerned?”
“No. Just think of this as me repaying the generosity.”
“My Fiancé and I came out here to meet his parents.”
“You’re a little young to be getting married.”
“Uh, thanks? I don’t think it’s that weird, I’m 21. It’s not like I’m 12 being married off to some foreign diplomat.”
“Let me give you some advice. He either gave you the ring to get you to shit up or because he wants an unpaid maid.”
“Excuse me?”
“21 men don’t typically give up on hooking up with bimbo’s in short leather skirts. I’m 76%- no, 78% certain that he’s going to cheat on you by years end if he’s not already cheating. And judging by the way you smile sadly at your ring and scrunch your hands around your tickets I think you know that too.” 
“What would you do if you were me?”
“Dump him and go out with the skinny diabetic across from you, clearly.” He responded sarcastically.
“Ha, you’re so funny.” You replied back with the same tone, rolling your eyes.
“You should at least tell him what you want. If he’s not willing to negotiate, leave him.”
“What I want, huh? I want to go see Jaws, would any diabetic Einsteins be interested in movie theater candy?”
“Okay that jokes run its course. No I’m not interested in that chewy soulless garbage.”
“Could I bribe you with another slice of cake?”
“I thought that you were worried about my health? Also this is highly improper.”
“Making a new friend?”
“Chatting up a man when you’re engaged.”
“It’s not like I’m asking you out, I just don’t want to go to my movie alone. When life gives you lemons, ya know?”
“Cake and cookies. You eat some too okay. I’m Yuuji.” You shook him hand and replied back with your own name.
——
“Okay, why do you like this movie?”
“It’s a classic! Sure they probably should’ve just poisoned the stupid thing. Sometimes the right answer is the most obvious one.” You two smiled as you walked out of the theater.
He stopped dead in his tracks. “Sometimes the answer is the most obvious one. I gotta go, here…” he scribbled down something on his ticket and handed it to you. “Nice to meet you, friend.” He trotted off down the street. You looked down at his ticket and saw he gave you his number.
“Huh, not bad Emo boy.”
————
“My love, wake up. I made you breakfast.” You say as you kiss his neck.
“Let me sleep in on my birthday.” He groaned. “Don’t temp me to give in with that sultry voice. You know I can’t say no to you when you do that.”
“Not true. It’s only 82.79% affective. As evident of now.”
 “I stayed up late for weeks to perfect your favorite pancakes for you.”
“How’d I get so lucky to have a wife like you?”
“Good question, better question though is how did I manage to impress the world’s 3 greatest detectives?”
“By being intoxicating.” He replied smoothly.
“Okay Casanova, eat up before you food gets cold.” He smirked, grabbed you by your waist and pulled you into bed with him. Then he trailed kisses from your collar bone up to your jaw and finally planted a long deep loving kiss on your lips. “L!”
“How can you be mad at me when I have the sweetest treat right here in my arms?”
“I love you, L.”
“I love you too.”
BONUS: 
L: Mmh, these buttercream cheese and strawberry pancakes are delicious. Thank you my wife.
You: A perfect meal for my perfect husband. Mwah! 
You Two kiss!
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meowzfordayz · 5 months
Text
as if
Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader
Word Count: ~600
CW: alcohol
Emergency Request Fulfilled: This year, especially this summer has been really rough and the past few days, it's kind of caught up and I've been feeling very down  and lost kind of neglected. I was wondering if you could write a drabble or something for demon slayer with a reader that has been feeling that way and with some agnst and comfort with Giyuu, Sanemi or Tengen and (if you write for him, idr if you do 😅) Ubuyashiki. Preferably romantic but platonic is fine too.
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“Feeling low?”
His voice catches you off guard; an almost lyrical inflection coated by familiar gruffness, the cold bite of winter numbing his intended concern to a flat tone.
“Yeah,” you mutter, refusing to meet his lilac stare, “Something like that.”
He strides closer, bodily presence impossible to ignore. You’re certain if you glanced up that his shirt would be undone — despite the chill in the sparsely crowded tavern.
“Y’know, it isn’t healthy to mull over death alone.”
“So how do you spend your time in between missions, Shinazugawa-san?” you retort softly, waving an uninterested hand in his direction, “By all means, enlighten me.”
Laughing coolly, Sanemi drags out the chair beside you, sitting lazy and spread in its wooden seat, hazy threads of burnt jasmine and damp earth wafting toward you.
“I train. I bathe. I check in on my fellow slayers.”
Snorting lightly, you finally fix a dithering expression on his earnest gaze, nearly swallowing your quip at the faint glow in his eyes, “Ah, well, good to know you care about your personal hygiene.”
Blinking slowly, his brow furrows, arms crossing over the bareness of his chest, “You believe me?”
“Believe what?” you scoff amusedly, “I’ve never known you to justify yourself to anyone.”
Scowling, his arms cross tighter, skin aching with fatigue, “Your approval doesn’t matter to me.”
You shrug, “Okay.”
You return to your tokkuri, sake still warm as you pour yourself another cup, its sharp scent stinging your nose when you take a slow, pointed sip.
Thud.
A matching cup slams ungracefully onto the counter, taunting air thickening around you as you glare at the scarred fingers beckoning slyly. With a long exhale, you fill his cup.
“Just making small talk,” he murmurs, saccharine and smug, “I appreciate your generosity.”
“You’re terrible,” you huff, hastily downing another cup, noting the abrupt loss of weight in the tokkuri with dismay, “Shinazugawa-san, I didn’t think you drank.”
Cup pinched between his thumb and index fingertips, Sanemi sniffs carefully, face scrunching at the clean tang of fermentation. He sets the cup aside, humming in agreement.
You snap, mouth twisting frustrated and impatient, voice hushed and scathing, “Why harass me into sharing with you if you’re not even going to try it?”
“Someone died,” he replies blandly, cup lifted and tilted, alcohol gone in a single, smooth movement, “On my watch.”
Unimpressed, you resist the urge to kick the leg of his chair, knowing he’d likely block and consequently injure you instead, “So you sought out the nearest slayer to console yourself?”
“I’m not the consoling type.”
And then he touches your wrist.
It’s a fleeting, mindless gesture, and yet it extends on for forever, overflowing with consideration and contemplation, never thoughtless because it’s him. It’s Shinazugawa-san—unapproachable, distant, angry—Shinazugawa Sanemi. He doesn’t acknowledge his proximity, bumping demandingly against the back of your hand, this time reaching for the tokkuri.
“Distract?” you squeak, overly conscious of how clear your quickening pulse must sound.
“Mhm,” he nods, hoping you’re fixated enough on your own nerves to miss how delicately his are fraying too.
“You can be pretty cruel,” you sniff, dizzying chewiness in your head making it harder and harder to forget the calloused graze of his clammy heat, “Buy me a drink?”
“Whatever.”
He laughs—an abrupt, staccato laugh—nonchalantly ordering another round of your sake, all too aware of the tenderness melting the stiffness from your attention. Of the discomforting pressure in his sternum when you grin triumphantly. As if I didn’t let you win.
As if you could ever lose.
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