#one of the top 10 foods EVER perhaps?

[gremlin-pattie]

the 2010s were right, bacon IS epic

[felixknow]

Pathetic!

han x reader/ (afab but one comment could be read as amab), friends to lovers, teasing, mutual pining/lust, blowjob, premature ejac., pathetic!han, loser!han and confident but simp!reader, 3k

Based on how Han... Adjusts... Himself...

Your friend Jisung has a… peculiar habit. 

You first noticed it when you agreed to a silly dinner party with your old trainee friends. Everyone decided to dress up in their prettiest dresses and most handsome suits to go to McDonalds at 10 p.m. and even though the food was greasy and near-tasteless, the company of your friends made it one of your favorite meals you’d ever had.

It was when everyone was cleaning up and getting ready to leave that you first noticed Han’s odd habit.

You were the last two to get up from the table. Most of your friends had already drifted toward the trash cans and the exit, and as you stood you watched as Han, who was not paying attention to you, unabashedly grabbed his penis through his pants and manually readjusted it.

Your eyes widened and you turned on your heel away from him, shocked but vowing to yourself that you’d never tell a soul you saw it, and sure you’d never see it again.

Until the next time it happened.

And the next.

And the next.

Considering the years you’ve spent in this friendship, it feels odd that you’ve only noticed this habit recently, but maybe he’s having some sort of issue, perhaps? Maybe his shaving routine has changed, maybe he’s wearing new underwear, maybe he caught something-- you don’t know and it doesn’t feel like your business at first. Or at the second, or third, or fourth occurrence.

It’s when you start to catch onto what makes him adjust himself so blatantly that you realize that it is your business. In fact, it starts to feel like it’s because of you.

There’s the time in the pool with your friends where you watch him off to the side in the shallow end readjust himself after you finish a splashing war with two of your friends, which somehow manages to nearly knock your top off.

There’s the summer sleepover where your tank top was lower cut than you intended, and through the glow of the firepit you could just make out the shape of Han squirming, his hand firmly latched between his thighs for a few moments.

There’s the time you and several of your mutual friends attend a SKZ fan meeting to support your favorite superstar, and sitting on stage Han tries his best to be casual as he adjusts himself moments after excitedly waving to your group, but boy is it obvious to your trained eye.

Almost every time you’ve seen Han in the past few months, there’s been a moment when his hand inevitably ends up wrapped around his cock, despite his pants being in the way.

It always comes after the lingering looks. It happens after the slight flick of his tongue across his lips. The prolonged eye contact. The rosiness of his cheeks when you come too close. The dramatic flair of him draping himself across you, or the grabby hands as he asks you to cuddle with him, or the feather-light touches on your back or your hip as he passes you in a narrow space.

There are two things you’re certain of at this point in your friendship:

Han Jisung is attracted to you, and you are so, so attracted to him.

Once this becomes fact in your mind, the game begins.

How long does it take to get Hanji to touch himself?

On some nights, it’s hours. On some, it’s minutes. Once it was even the very first thing he did when you walked in the room (maybe because you’d spent the previous night partying with him and may have drunkenly danced with him one too many times, or maybe it was because you’d texted him that morning that you’d had fun with him and want to go dancing with him again, or maybe it was because it was another movie night and you’d come in short pajama shorts and a t-shirt with a “fashionable” rip across your chest).

The second phase of the game starts after that night.

When will Hanji notice that I’m trying to bother him on purpose?

(The answer is “not until you tell him outright,” but we’ll get there.)

You have fun playing with him. At first it’s acting like you didn’t realize he was behind you, so you back up until your butt touches his hip or his crotch. Then it’s accidentally sitting so close that you nearly sit on his lap. One time it’s having “accidentally” put on too much perfume before getting in the car with Hannie after he offered to drive you to your friend’s place for dinner. Another it’s wearing a white top on a day when you know it’ll be rainy, and “accidentally” forgetting your umbrella so you show up to Han’s apartment with a mostly see-through top.

Each time you catch it, either from the corner of your eye or while outright staring at him. His hand goes down while he’s either looking away or trying to act casual. He grabs his penis through his pants so fully that you can see the complete outline of it as he shifts it to the side or pushes it down or otherwise readjusts.

It makes you wet, being so close yet so far from seeing it. Sometimes when he grabs it you swear you can see the defined tip or the swell of his balls pressing on the fabric as well, but it’s over as quickly as it began. Sometimes just the press of his hand down on his lap like a nervous little virgin unsure of how to control himself turns you on so bad that you’re squirming in your seat.

Oh, god how you’d fuck him. How you’d wreck his entire world. If only he wasn’t so god damned oblivious.

No matter how many times you try to catch his eye and pointedly look down to his crotch, or how many times you pull your top lower while directly in his line of sight, or even shake your ass when you know he’s watching-- he says nothing. He does nothing.

You know he notices. Oh, how he notices. His face turns red. He pulls a pillow into his lap. His voice cracks. He can’t make eye contact with you. He stutters. He stares at your chest when he thinks you aren’t looking.

And he wants, oh he wants so bad.

It finally comes to a head on the night you know for absolutely 100% certain that you’ve given him a boner.

It’s a game night with two of Han’s fellow SKZ members. You’re sitting on the floor in front of the couch and Han is behind you (at your design, of course). One of his legs is under him, and one of his legs is hooked over your shoulder. You keep your arm locked around it while you play Mario Kart, claiming that you need it because of the way you’re sitting. “I can’t hold my arm up at the right angle without it,” you whine. “I have to keep my controller all the way up here--” you gesture to holding the controller at your chest level rather than in your lap-- “otherwise the sensor doesn’t pick up.”

No one calls your bluff-- you’re lucky that when Felix handed you the controller he said that it was the finicky one that didn’t like to cooperate all the time. Thank you, Felix.

Every time you win, you throw your arms up and reach for Hannie behind you. He either gives you his hands and he leans his head down and you pet his hair. When you lose, you turn your head to his knee (or, after he shifts lower in his seat, his inner thigh) and nibble or just rub your face as if you’re hiding it in shame.

Within 10 races you know you have Han wrapped around your finger. Any time you turn your head to look back at him, he’s already looking at you. He can likely see straight down your top, and the combination of that with you touching his thigh leads to him needing a pillow in his lap to prevent the whole group from noticing his little, ahem… problem.

And then comes the break.

“Should we pause and get dinner?” Minho asks

“I was just thinking the same thing,” you chime in. “But the issue is I really want pizza from that one really good place that refuses to do delivery. Like, come on, your orders get mixed up a couple of times and you require ID to pick up food? It’s the 21st centuryyyyy,” you whine, throwing your head back against Han’s thigh.

“Oh, pizza sounds so good,” Felix says with a satisfied groan. “I can go get it if someone comes with.”

“Mm,” Minho acknowledges, climbing to his feet. “Let’s go. We can order on the way.”

After a brief discussion of what everyone wants, the two clear the apartment, and then…

Han clears his throat and shifts in his seat.

“Do you wanna play another round while they’re out?”

You put your controller down and spin around so you’re sitting on your knees, now face-first at Han’s crotch-- or rather, the pillow on top of his crotch.

“No, honestly Hanji, I’m so fucking sick of waiting.”

“What--” You grab the pillow and try to move it, and his eyes widen, his face a pure expression of shock, and he fights you to keep it in place. “No, no! I need that-- Y/n, stop!”

“Hanji, when are you going to tell me that I turn you on? I’m so tired of waiting.”

“You-- What? How did you--”

“Am I wrong?” you ask, finally letting go of the pillow and letting him hold it. You give him your best doe eyes, blinking up at him innocently. “That’s what you’re hiding, right? Because I keep touching you and because you can see my boobs, right?”

Han tries to say something but he flounders, barely making a full sentence.

“Hanji, I’m tired of you teasing me,” you whine. “You touch your penis in front of me all the time. When’s it my turn?”

“Y/N--” he gasps. You take the chance to grab the pillow once more and yank, swiftly removing it and throwing it across the room. His legs come up and his hands go down-- he tries to cover himself and hide, but you see the tent in his pants and even notice the dark spot forming on the crotch of his gray sweatpants.

“Oh, Hanji, you poor thing. Isn’t that throbbing?” you ask, sliding one hand up his leg, gently coaxing him to relax and slightly open his legs for you again. “I know mine is. Why don’t you let me take care of it?”

“Your… You’re…?”

“You’re so cute when you’re flustered. You’re such a sweet little thing. I could just eat you up.” You keep gently touching him, running your fingertips up and down his calf until he rests his leg on the ground again, now only his hands covering his tent.

“How long have you liked me, Hanji? You should have told me. I’ve been trying to encourage you, but I don’t think you’ve caught on, have you?”

“No,” he admits softly. “I thought… I thought maybe you liked that I was fawning over you?” he says unsurely. “I noticed a few times you were really close to me on purpose…”

“Yeah?” you ask, gently touching his hand while lying your cheek on his thigh. “Like when?”

“Like that time you were talking to me in the kitchen and then you bent down to get something and touched my… um, touched me with your butt. It was straight out of a movie.”

You giggle and manage to intertwine some of your fingers with his gently.

“You could have said something, you know. You blushed so dark I thought your head was going to burst. You were so red.”

“I was afraid you felt my dick through my pants,” he says defensively, but softly, almost like he’s afraid to speak too loud and burst the bubble that surrounds the two of you. “I was so hard.”

“I get you hard a lot, huh? Pretty much every time I see you I catch you touching yourself.”

“What?!” he asks, eyes wide, once again in that delicious look of shock.

“You have to readjust yourself. I see you. It’s really obvious the way you grab it, you know.” You voice drops to a whisper as you separate his hands and finally get a good look at his crotch. “It’s kind of…” your hand reaches out slowly, giving him the chance to stop you, but he doesn’t. “Like this,” you say, wrapping your hand around his shaft through his pants. Instead of trying to push his dick down or to the side, you drag your hand up until it rolls over the tip and off of him entirely.

Han moans, lifting his hips up slightly to chase the feeling of your hand. You smirk but try to bite your lip to hide it, wanting to keep the innocent yet frisky facade you’re upholding.

“No,” you say softly, wrapping your hand around his cock again. “I think it was actually more like this.” You twist your wrist slightly as you move down his shaft then back up, once again sliding your hand over his tip. This time you press your palm against it, slightly pushing his dick to the side.

“Hmm,” you hum, licking your lips. “No, that’s not quite right. Can you show me, Hanji?”

“Huh?” he asks through a shuddering breath.

“Show me how you grab yourself, Hanji. And then I wanna do something for you.”

“Okay…”

Han’s shaky hand reaches down and he grabs his dick, pushing it down and to the side. He shifts his hip, tries to act casual while trying to tuck his boner into a tighter area of his underwear but it does nothing to hide his erection once he releases it.

“Mm, always seeing you touch yourself has made me so jealous. And you get to play with it whenever you want. It’s my turn to touch it, isn’t it? Can I touch it, Hanji?

“You already did, to be fair,” he says, his normal cheeky self still shining through his nerves. “But, I mean, yeah… if you want to you can do whatever… if you want… I mean… What do you want to do?”

“What do I want?” you ask, smiling up at him. “Oh, Hanji, if we did everything I wanted, no one would hear from you for weeks.”

His face reddens again and he laughs softly.

“If I had known we were thinking the same thing, I would have asked you to do this a lot sooner…” he admits. A wide grin spreads across your face and you hum happily, tugging on his sweatpants.

“Let me suck your cock, Hanji. I’ve been waiting so long.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice,” he says, lifting his hips and pulling both his pants and his underwear down swiftly. His cock springs free, bouncing a little from the movement, and you have to bite back the “aww” that comes up your throat. It’s just so fucking cute with its pink tip and its honey shaft like the rest of his pretty skin and it looks so suckable and instead of saying anything you hum happily as you greeidly suck him into your mouth, barely giving him a second to adjust to the feeling before you’re bobbing your head and trying to gather as much spit in your mouth as possible to give it a good, wet glide.

Han moans loudly and unabashedly, throwing his head back and sinking into the couch, fully letting you consume him.

“Oh, fuck,” he whines, hips jerking up slightly. “Oh, fuck! Wait, wait, wait,” he says, sitting back up and gently guiding your head off of him. “Y/N, I think I almost came,” he whines, and your jaw drops.

“Hanji, that was fifteen seconds. That wasn’t even a minute.”

“I know,” he whines, chest heaving as he pouts and tries to calm down. “I don’t know, it just hit me and I felt like leaking.”

“-Leaking?”

“That’s what it felt like!”

“Hanji, don’t tell me you call it ‘leaking’ when you cum.”

“No! I don’t! I’m just saying this one felt like a leak like I was just gonna let it all down. You were sucking me like a straw and it was just gonna all come out.”

You stare at him for a few silent seconds and then, in shock at your own revelation, say “You are so wimpy. And pathetic. And it makes me so fucking horny.”

Han laughs just as much as he whines, throwing his head back and covering his face with both his hands.

“Y/Naaaaahhhhhh,” he whines. “You can’t insult me and then say it makes you horny. I don't know what to thiiiiink.”

“Think about my pussy, your bed, and hopefully the nearest condom.”

Han peeks at you through his hands for a few seconds and then nods frantically, trying to sit up and get to his feet.

“Okay, okay, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Let’s go! What are we still doing out here?!”

As Han gets up, his sweatpants and underwear nearly trips him while he tries to step past you. You giggle, covering your mouth and watching his naked butt as he rushes down the hall to his room.

Oh, god, how you’re attracted to him.

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - Getting hot under the collar and in the kitchen and on the pool table and...

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Aug 2024 Week 3

Ongoing Series - Thai

Monster Next Door (Thai Thurs Gaga ) eps 3-4 of 12 - one of the things I'm enjoying about this show is the fact that the introverted super shy uke is having hot fantasies, and the extroverted seme is having the sweet fantasies. It's another way this show is highlighting God being the world's greenest flagged seme BL has ever produced. (And he's being given stiff competition this year - trend alert.)

Anygay: God is so cute and so not cool and so in love and all the consent asking word salad coming out of this boy. I LOVE him. 

Diew: It’s ep 4 so I’ve decided we can talk face-to-face.  God: So how many children do you want? 

The teaching him to play basketball bit, where God politely asks to hold his hand, is so freaking adorable I can’t.

I'm thinking of calling this show the anti-Mame pill.

Blue pill? Red pill? GREEN pill!

My Love Mix-Up Th (Fri YT) ep 11 of 12 - We gotta talk. I do like this version, but it’s starting to feel lackluster. Perhaps it always was by comparison to the bright sparkle uniqueness of the original. Perhaps I didn't notice because I was distracted by G4. But now I gotta say it's become a bit disappointing and even my love for G4 can’t seem to bind me to this. Frankly, this show is making me want to watch either the Japanese version, or My School President. It’s never a good sign when a currently airing BL makes me want to stop that and go rewatch an old one I’ve already seen.

NO SINGING.

Meanwhile, the "locked on the rooftop" trope! I haven’t seen that one in years. Cool. Also cute kisses. They learning. 

This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans (Fri iQIYI) ep 7 of 8 - I can’t believe this is ending next week. But also I can. And I have thoughts.

I really love SailubPon. They might be one of my favorite newer pairs on the scene right now. But I just don’t believe in these characters or this couple. I don’t feel like they are going to have a lasting relationship. It feels like they’re just using each other for sex and distraction, and that’s how the script to set it up, and as a result they’re never gonna make it as a couple. As soon as the sexual fire between them burns out, what do they have to build a relationship on? Frankly? That would be fine if this were a modern love drama, and not a BL. But this IS a BL.

Putting the health code violators aside, I really do believe in the secondary pair, but they haven’t been given enough bandwidth to develop as a couple. There’s no way they’re going to adequately resolve Methas and JJ in the final episode.

At this juncture, I’m mostly finding this show annoying. Which in itself is annoying, because I wanted to love it.

Why is it that Thailand, the land of the best food in the world, king of BLs, struggles so hard to produce the restaurant set BL of my dreams? I’m really pissed about this.

That said, the Methas & JJ stuff is killer. Loved JJ running away. So good. Plus the age old decision - love or money? 

Battle of the Writers (Sun YT) ep 2-3 of 12 - The issue was me and I've managed to get hold of this show again. The story within the story is so ridiculously badly written I'm going spare. I’m not sure if the outside show is not ALSO badly written. That said, I do love how the 3 writer friends are all shipping our leads. It’s VERY silly. Meanwhile, cohabitation trope is a go. 

I like the side couple too. Stern Daddy + lost puppy is a very cute dynamic, I hope we get more than just crumbs. I actually am enjoying this show now. Ep 3 kinda derailed into this weird chimera novel that they’re all writing together and I’m finding that bit the least interesting, but I adore the domestic components which I think may turn out to be TutorYim's strength (if they're allowed to lean into it). 

Addicted Heroin (Thai Tues WeTV) ep 1 of 10 - Man I hope this gets some kind of distribution at some point. It was a pain to find and watch. But I enjoyed it. The focus is more on the seme in Thailand’s version. Which I don’t mind since that's rare in BL, and it’s more August on my screen. It’s all round softer than China’s version but still feels very familiar. I know some fans are struggling with it, but not me.

Sunset X Vibes (Sat iQIYI) ep 10 of 12 - I like that Sam’s crafty business espionage has paid off. Them teasing Sam & Yo really had me belly laughing. It was so funny.

Legitimate question. Would one put perfume on one’s cheeks in Thailand, as one does on wrist or sternum? Because of the sniff cheek thing? Scented face powders?

I do feel like with MosBank & SailubPon scorching up our screens, we’re being spoiled by some of Thailand‘s best high heat pairs at the moment.

I Saw You in My Dream (Weds Gaga) ep 5 of 12 - It remains kind of sweet and cute. It's also calm and slow moving. Oddly it reminds me of La Cuisine in its style and execution (if not content). I’m enjoying it more than I thought I would.

The Trainee (Sun YouTube) ep 7 of 12 - I don’t know. I’m getting bored.

Love Sea (Sun iQIYI) ep 10fin - Fort’s acting during the break-up was truly great. But I feel for Rak. It’s rough to learn that someone else is playing a long game with feelings while you were playing a short game with d**k.

Ultimately this is probably a solid 8/10 show but I’m mad I wasn’t madder at it, and I'm mad I was so bored throughout. So it gets a 7/10 and let us not speak of this again. I’d like to simply forget about it. Trash watch.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Sugar Dog Life (Japan Sun grey) ep 1-2 of 10 - OMG a uni student who looks young and a... COP! GAH. The subversion and kink of it all. I had to go grey to get it and I hate everything about what I had to do. But ya know what? Fucking worth every single repeated crash-causing advertisement.

I love it. The grumpy lonely little student cook and the cheerful mature police officer. What a fabulous dynamic. Is the cook looking for a boyfriend or a Daddy, and do we care if it has the same result? It is filmed VERY manga style camp. I’m a little nervous about that, but this means it’s also very fluffy and so damn sweet. It made me squeak with the cute. I’m gutted this didn’t get distribution.

Ironic that Tawada Hideya is in a new BL while Sunspot is re-airing.

Cosmetic Playlover (Japan Tues Gaga) eps 3-4 of 8 - Ah, the gays are doubting the bisexual again. How familiar. I like how this one is paced and moving through time, even if the relationship seems to be going comparatively slowly by contrast. I love the way Sahashi is always looking at Natsume, even when they’re in conversation with someone else. Ah yearning. I think the conflict was kind of inevitable, given the two personalities of the protagonists, and I like that. (No manufactured angst here.) But I still hope they can repair the breach and I’m still interested. Frankly this is so classically Japan - I don’t know what story beats it’s following and I’m not entirely sure where it’s going, but I kinda like that unpredictability. Makes me think it could go into "must you, Japan?" territory but fingers crossed.

I Hear the Sunspot AKA Hidamari ga Kikoeru (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 9 of 10 - I'm enjoying it very much. I could do without the girl character. I know she’s more interesting than most (this is Japan after all), but she’s not really for me. It’s the complexity of the connection between the leads (and why they like each other) that’s being executed so brilliantly in this show (and in the manga, FYI). Both actors are so on point with their roles and the nuanced emotions required of these characters that every time it’s only them interacting I'm riveted. I could do without the rest of the cast tho.

Seoul Blues (Korea Fri? YouTube) ep 1 of 8 - I have a confession to make, I’ve been watching this whole series as it goes along. But this is the pair I absolutely like the most. I’m not sure I would necessarily recommend any of the installments, and I’m not sure how this one is going to go, but I’m VERY invested in this particular couple. They are so pretty!!!! This is a true friends-to-lovers struggle. I like that a lot. (Reminds me of I Cannot Reach You but a different dynamic.) Did I mention how pretty they are? And we already know they gonna kiss well. I bet the uncut version is stellar.

Meet You at the Blossom (China) - It's no one's funeral, turns out! Reports are in - not only are there kisses but it ends happily with wedding plans. So I'm eating crow, binging the fucker, and live blogging. I'm enjoying it. Ya'll know I adored Chinese BL before censorship. It has a certain unhinged quality I very much apreciate (and is the reason I'm so tolerant of the Thai pulps) that I think will marry well with Wuxia's effervescent and ever-present tropes. Watch me suffer here.

First Note Of Love (Taiwan Mon Gaga) eps 1-2 of 12 - About a singer with stage fright and his timid fan starring Charles (H4 the puppy one) and Michael Chang (the youngster in My Tooth Your Love), plus side couple featuring a Thai actor Jame (Koh in Gen Y) and Liu Min Ting (of Guardian fame). What a damn team. With their powers combined they are...

fine.

This is a fine BL. The fight scene was fun and I like the meet cute. I’m not sure about the chemistry of the leads, but I think they’ll probably do okay. I admit I’m struggling a bit with a singing and the music. Are you surprised? I think I like it enough, but I’m not wowed.

Takara's Treasure AKA Takara No Vidro (Japan Mon Gaga) ep 7 of 10 - Oh! Out of the blue attack kiss. What IS this show? I don’t get it at all. Bah. I guess they’re dating now. It’s… so odd...

It's airing but...

4 Minutes (Thai Netflix/Grey) - A rich boy at uni suddenly gains the supernatural power to see four minutes into the future. I have a source, but I've decided to hold off and binge if it ends okay, since it's only 8 eps. I depend upon y'all to tell me if it's safe.

8/16 The Last Time (Thai Fri YT) ? eps - Convoluted story of loss and possible reincarnation or something. Again delayed? Not sure what's going on with this one but the continued push-backs do not bode well.

In case you missed it

The Time of Fever AKA Unintentional Love Story 2 (Korea movie) trailer IS COMING IN SEPTEMBER!!!! (Yeah this is gonna sit here until then).

Next Week Looks Like This:

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.

Still Coming This Month!

8/22 The On1y One (Taiwan Thurs Gaga) 12 eps - announced in 2023 this one has a high school set stepbrothers trope and is reputed to be high heat. From Taiwan! It's made for me. Based on a novel Mou Mou from the Your Name Engraved Herein folks, so it could go dark. Still, I'm very excited.

8/22 The Paradise of Thorns (Thai movie) theater release - Jeff Satur is back but this does not look like a BL (the gay lover's death is the inciting event). More in Goodbye Mother vein. Looks dark and dramatic. He opposite and extremely well known actor Toey Pongsakorn who has never done gay before.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

WHY IS HE SO FINE?

I truly belly laughed. Sam & Yo did not go in the direction I expected, but this scene alone made me not mind that they curtailed the suffering Sam was rightfully due. (SunsetXVibes)

Tall boyfriend armpit, anyone? (Monster Next Door)

The two extremes of BL in one show (Long Beans indeed).

(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 @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

Sigh, Tumblr in its infinite wisdom doesn't like too many tags.

[brawlite]

a brief bunny post/update, for anyone curious:

we have 3 bunnies and 1 bunny houseguest (who we rescued from behind a neighbor's trash can)—so, we currently have 4 bunnies under one roof. it's a lot of bunny. there's hay everywhere.

first, we have eggnog, who we mostly just call egg. she's the shape of an egg (round), loves food, and spends about 23 hours of her day sound asleep underneath her favorite chair. she's basically a cartoon bunny and looks kind of fake. she loves people (and running at their unsuspecting feet), is deaf, and is afraid of hardwood. she does not get along with the other bunnies.

next, we have fennel. he's a lot of bunny—about 10 lbs of mischief and personality. he loves getting into things he shouldn't and begs for treats like a dog. when we adopted him, his name was terminator (termie for short). if he's not running around and getting into something, he's snoozing at your feet. he's very patient (especially with kids), but sometimes shows love with his teeth.

then there is francis. who may in fact actually be a dust bunny. he may not look it, but he's only 2 lbs. he doesn't like to be touched, talked to, or observed in any meaningful way. (if you can catch him, he does like to be held. sort of.) he's almost impossible to photograph because he's so fluffy and won't stop moving. he's a little trooper who lost his top teeth, had a life-threatening abscess, and now needs to get his teeth trimmed every month. he lives with fennel and they love each other begrudgingly.

finally, there's bug (disclaimer: we have not fully settled on a name for him, perhaps because we are not sure if we're keeping him or not). we believe he was likely an easter bunny release (don't give kids animals for easter) and a neighbor spotted him, called us, and we rescued him from behind a trash can. he is, against all odds for a street rescue, the nicest bunny we have ever encountered. he loves people, loves to be snuggled, and loves to give little kisses. he wants to be touched at literally all times. if given the opportunity, he will fall asleep in your arms. he is... a love bug. he does not, unfortunately, get along with any of our other bunnies—so, not sure if we can keep him.

anyway: that's the crew. any questions, feel free to ask—i'm always happy to chat about bunnies.

that's all, folks! ;3

[galamalion]

┈ ✧.* romance in the red line

┈ ✧.* summary﹕You and Nami attend Vivi's well-planned sleepover, and meet a new face the next day.

╰┈➤ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ pairing﹕one piece x fem!reader

┈ ✧.* chapters﹕[i] [ii] [iii] [iv] [v]

╰┈➤ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ w/c﹕4.1k

┈ ✧.* chapter v﹕three's a crowd

“Wow, Vivi…” You took a deep breath in, marveling at the architectural wonder before you. “This is…”

“Totally awesome?” Nami chimed in, looking around the room.

“I was gonna say that it rivals the work of Michaelangelo, but that works too…” you replied.

Vivi crouched down and crawled into the blanket-pillow fort, poking her head out and looking up at the two of you.

“Feel free to come in! There are many snacks for us to share and movies to watch!” Vivi said cheerily, tucking herself back into the fort.

Both of you crawled after her, choosing your spots within and diving straight into the generously provided snacks.

Nami shoved a handful of pretzels in her mouth, “You’ve really outdone yourself, Vivi.”

“For sure,” you added. “Having a sleepover wasn’t on my college to-do list, but it definitely should have been.”

“And without the boys!” Nami cheered, kicking her legs excitedly. “No Luffy here to eat all the food!”

Vivi smiled at you both, “I’m glad you are enjoying the sleepover! I don’t have any siblings, so I have perfected the art of fort-making from a young age…”

“Well, that’s what friends are for!” You took a couple pretzels from the bowl. “Now we can do all sorts of things you couldn’t do back then.”

“And we can drink!” Nami interrupted, stealing a pretzel from you.

You rolled your eyes, moving over to the laptop to pick a movie, “I’ll leave the drinking to you, Nami.”

“Really?” she snickered. “You seemed pretty open to it when we were at the Baratie. If I can remember correctly, Sanji had to carry you back to the dorm…”

“How the hell would you know that?” you gaped, crossing your arms defensively. “You drank more than I did!”

Nami laughed, crossing her arms proudly, “I can hold my liquor pretty well, for your information! I’ve outdrank at least 30 grown men before!”

“What an accomplishment, Nami!” Vivi clapped.

You grimaced at Vivi’s cheeriness, “Don’t congratulate her for that, Vi…”

“Any more interesting bits of information from you, ____? A story we’ve yet to hear, maybe a long lost love? Or perhaps you and Sanji…”

“Nope, not a thing,” you quickly countered.

“Oh, you’re no fun!” Nami pouted.

You were quick to bring this party back on track, and away from your own personal life, moving to the laptop to search for movies.

“Alright, what are we thinking, gang? Romance? Comedy? Horror?”

Nami made a gagging noise, “Ew, no horror, please. I’m here for a good night, not a nightmare-filled one.”

“I do love romance!” Vivi said excitedly, looking over your shoulder with Nami at the selection of movies.

“Also, I want something classic!” Nami reached for the laptop, scrolling endlessly for movies. “And no superhero stuff, or future-y stuff.”

“Ok, well, we’ve got Clueless, Mean Girls, 10 Things I Hate About You…”

“10 Things I Hate About You!” Nami shrieked, reaching over and clicking on the movie before you could stop her.

Vivi gave Nami a confused look, “I’ve never seen it before, is it good?”

Nami scoffed, “Only the best romance movie of all time! Trust me, Vi, you’re in for a treat.”

“Agreed,” you added, “it’s at least in the top ten best movies of all time.”

“Make that top five,” Nami corrected, leaning back into the pillows.

“I’m glad to be experiencing it, then!” Vivi cheered, joining Nami in her cushioned throne.

You cracked your knuckles, “Alright, ladies! Movie’s starting now, I expect all phones to be silenced and all mouths to be zipped! Now, please enjoy the show.”

“Ok, mom,” Nami quipped, throwing her arms behind her head.

“You wish I was your mom.”

“Nuh uh, my mom’s already the greatest mom, like, ever!" Nami hissed, sticking her tongue out at you.

“Yeah, I already know, we had a fantastic time last night.” You grinned, copying Nami’s pose.

You earned a pillow to the face for that joke.

.

.

.

“I knew it! They belonged together from the start!” Vivi sobbed as the credits rolled, throwing her face into a nearby pillow and staining it with her tears.

“It’s a romantic comedy, Vi,” you said, pinching your nose, “you’re not supposed to be crying.”

Vivi’s lip wobbled, “I can’t help it…”

“Shh…there, there, Vi,” Nami cooed, rubbing the poor girl’s shoulders. “Be nice, ____! It was her first time seeing the movie of a lifetime.”

“It was a romantic comedy, ” you groaned, laying down in the mass of pillows.

Nami hummed, giving Vivi her blanket before collapsing down beside you.

“Tell you what, girls,” Nami yawned, pulling her sleeping mask over her head. “We absolutely need to go shopping soon. I know we all need a break after this heart-wrenching cinematic experience.”

“It was a fucking romantic comedy!”

“Well, so was the Fault in our Stars, and I cried at that!”

“You’re supposed to!” you yelled, hitting Nami with a pillow, “it’s not a comedy!”

“Comedy, shmomedy,” Nami shrugged, “you in for a shopping trip, Vi?”

Vivi smiled, her blanket pulled up to her chin, “Yes, it sounds very fun! I would love to go out with the two of you again!”

“Well, I suppose that depends on our little roomie,” Nami smiled devilishly, turning towards you. “You in, ____?”

You grimaced as the two girls looked at you expectantly, waiting for an answer you didn’t want to give. Nami’s eyes were dark and knowing, while Vivi’s were light and full of happiness, unaware that Nami would probably coerce her into paying. You were more than capable of saying no to Nami, but Vi? A world with a sad Vivi was a world you couldn’t bear to live in.

“...How about Friday evening, after classes?” you muttered.

“Perfect!” Nami cheered, sliding the sleeping mask down to cover her eyes. “I’ll see you girls then. Just text me when you two are out of class and we can head out!”

“A terrific plan!” Vivi said, snuggling into her pillow. “I will see you both in the morning, good night!”

“Yeah, night, Vi,” you murmured to yourself, fearing for the safety of your wallet.

And so you joined their roommates in their quests for sleep, shutting your eyes and curling up in the mound of blankets and pillows surrounding you, giving you a very cushioned send off to the world of dreams.

*⋆✧*.𖥔⋆☆⋆𖥔.*✧⋆*

“...up, ____,” a voice mumbled above you, though you were hardly able to make out their words on account of the pillows smothering your ears.

Instead of responding, you just rolled to your side and pulled the fluffy comforter over your body, deciding that whatever the person was trying to tell you wasn’t worth it. You could decipher it in a minute, or five. Hell, why not just make it ten?

“Wake up!” the voice, now shouting, called out.

The dull pain in your ears was nothing compared to the unexpected pain in your face as a pillow hurled at top speed smacked you in the head.

“Hey!” you shrieked, clutching your cheek and looking around frantically. Nami stood above you, fully dressed with a hand on her hip, brows furrowed. 

“Are you kidding me? How many times are we gonna have to wake you up?” she huffed, throwing a pile of clothes at you. “You’re lucky I set my alarm for earlier, you still have time to get ready.”

“My savior,” you groaned, examining the clothes laid before you. “Thanks for the clothes, though.”

Nami certainly had style, and it wasn’t hard to see with her daily outfits. What she picked for you chic, but comfortable enough to walk to your classes in, and wasn’t that the college dream?

“Oh it’s nothing, just something I threw together for you,” she giggled. “Vi’s in the shower right now, so once she’s done and dressed we can head out, ‘kay?”

“Got it, girl boss.” You rose from the jumbled mess of pillows and blankets and stepped carefully over to the closed bathroom door, gingerly knocking.

“Vi, it’s me! Mind if I come in for a sec?” you called out.

A muffled ‘yes’ came from the other side, so you creaked the door open and stepped inside with your bundle of clothes, doing your best to get dressed as quickly as possible.

“Sorry for the intrusion, Vivi,” you apologized, slinging the top over your shoulders.

“Ah, it’s no problem, really!” she said from behind the glass walls of the shower. “I hope you had a good night’s rest after our sleepover.”

You scoffed, “Oh, believe me, the rest was wonderful. It was the wake up call that sucked.”

Vivi laughed heartily, the sound echoing in the cramped bathroom, “This is the second time Nami has woken you up, yes? I am glad I missed this time, the first was quite…brutal.”

“Be lucky you’re not on her bad side, Vi,” you snorted, pulling your phone out.

Aside from notifications from games and emails, you did have a couple unread texts from Sanji this morning.

| Mr. Prince: Good morning Sleeping Beauty!!!!! | Mr. Prince: &lt;333333333 Read 8:12 AM | You: lol i swear you say the same thing every morning | You: do all the women in your life get the princess treatment? | Mr. Prince: Just you! | Mr. Prince: I swear princess <33333 | You: swear your loyalty to me and i’ll believe you | Mr. Prince: ;3; | Mr. Prince: If it means earning your love… | Mr. Prince: I’ll do it!!!! | You: lol i’m just kidding | You: pls don’t do anything rash | Mr. Prince: ;3; | You: go forth and take care of every princess!! | You: that is my command | Mr. Prince: You are too kind!! | Mr. Prince: I wilokgopp;;;;;

You raised an eyebrow as Sanji’s final text, clearly too disordered to be anything except for a violet keyboard smash.

| You: did you die prince charming? | You: it’s only like 8 in the morning lol | Mr. Prince: its zoro | Mr. Prince: sanji needs to get ready so im taking his phone away | Mr. Prince: see u guys at 9 | Mr. Prince: Attachment (1) Image

The picture featured was a selfie of Zoro and a very angry Sanji, the latter attempting to wrestle the phone out of the former’s hands. You could also make out a very blurry Luffy crawling over a horrified Usopp in the background, clearly trying to be a part of the picture.

“I’ll give you some space, Vi,” you said, exiting the bathroom and making your way over to Nami amongst the mess of comforters.

“I got a text from Sanji—well, from Zoro, technically. They’re planning on heading down at nine, if that’s cool,” you said, sitting beside her.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Nami responded, scrolling through her phone. “We’ll probably have a few minutes to kill, depending on how fast Vivi can get ready.”

Vivi’s voice rang out from the bathroom, “I will be out shortly, do not worry!”

“Take your time, Vi!” you shouted back before turning to Nami. “Judging by Zoro’s texts, Sanji might be a while.”

“That tracks,” Nami sighed, a smile slowly forming on her face. “Knowing him, he’s probably ironing his suit right now.”

“Or curling his eyebrows.”

“Or waxing his shoes.”

Vivi’s head poked out of the bathroom, clearly trying to hold back her laughter.

“Perhaps,” she giggled, “he is powdering his nose!”

The room was silent for a second before the three of you burst into laughter, doubling over at your stupid jokes. You could afford wasting a couple of minutes to laugh, unknowing that the boys were, indeed, waiting for Sanji to finish ironing his suit.

“Pancakes aren’t that bad, Vi,” Nami said, drizzling her stack of pancakes in tangerine syrup. “You just gotta add what you like on top!”

“Yeah, Vivi!” Luffy said, voice muffled as he stuffed his face with his seventh pancake. “You’ve got syrup, sugar, butter, ice cream, gravy, meat—”

“You can’t put meat on pancakes, Luffy,” you pointed out, sliding your plate further away from Luffy’s potential grasp.

“Sure you can!” Sanji said, carefully decorating his own stack. “There’s plenty of traditional recipes that utilize meat and ‘pancake’, though I’m not sure you could call every example a pancake…”

“I’m saying you can’t put meat on pancakes like how Luffy does it.” You gestured to Luffy’s plate, which consisted of pancakes with huge pieces of steak and chicken on top. 

“They’re not even serving steak right now!” Usopp hissed, looking at Luffy’s food with a mixture of awe and terror. “This is crazy! He’s crazy!”

“Pancakes don’t have any special nutritional benefits, but they are yummy,” Chopper remarked, taking a bite of his cotton candy-covered pancakes.

“I will stick to rice, but I thank you for your unique perspectives,” Vivi said, giving a polite smile to everyone.

“Here here,” Zoro agreed, taking a sip from his bottle.

“Stop drinking during breakfast, you have classes afterwards,” you whispered, nudging his shoulder.

“I’ll quit when I’m dead,” he responded unflinchingly, taking another swig.

You sighed, continuing to eat your meal amidst your chattering table of friends. Every conversation seemed to switch, both in topic and participants, every five minutes. You were able to catch details about the introduction of new majors—as if Grand Line didn’t have enough—as well as the topic of Luffy’s potential major.

“Come on, Luffy,” Usopp said, pointing his fork in Luffy’s direction, “you’re gonna have to choose a major soon. Why not try engineering?”

“I don’t wanna do math!” he pouted.

“You could do exercise science like Zoro,” Nami added. “Isn’t Ace doing something similar?”

Zoro hummed in agreement, “I think you’d like it, Luf. You’ve gotta learn a little bit, but you might like it.”

“But I don’t wanna copy Ace!” Luffy cried, shoveling more food into his mouth.

“If you’re interested in it, then you’re not copying,” you reassured. 

“But I’m not interested.”

The table sighed in unison, knowing that any hope of finding Luffy a major would be short-lived on account of his short attention span.

“Well, you can always talk to your advisor,” Sanji concluded, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Or your brothers. They’re juniors, aren’t they? Should have plenty of experience.”

“Oh, yeah!” Luffy exclaimed, practically jumping out of his seat. “I bet Sabo would know what to do! He’s way smarter than Ace!”

“I wouldn’t say that out loud, Luf,” a blond man sitting behind Luffy said, turning to face your group. “You know how Ace gets when you compare us.”

Luffy’s momentary confused expression turned to one of glee as he tackled the man, grabbing onto him like a koala.

“Sabo!” he shrieked, earning the attention of nearly half the cafeteria.

“I think I remember something like this happening with the other brother,” Usopp grimaced, looking all around as if something would hit him at any moment.“Has he been there the whole time?” you whispered to Nami.

“I’ve only started sitting here since last week,” Sabo replied, giving you a knowing smile. “I heard Ace had a rather ostentatious entrance, so I thought I’d surprise Luffy in a little quieter way.”

“...I’m not sure you can call this quiet,” Nami said, watching Luffy squeeze Sabo rather violently.

“Does this mean Luffy’s off our hands?” Sanji asked, peeking over at the reunion.

Sabo seemed to think for a minute, looking between Luffy and your group, before saying, “I doubt he’ll let go in time for his classes, so I can take him for a bit.”

“Sounds good to me!” Nami cheered, standing up from the table. “We should all head to class anyway.”

“Have fun on your field trip, Luffy!” Vivi smiled, waving at Luffy before dashing out of the cafeteria with Nami.

You grabbed your plate and turned to Chopper, “Do you have class right now, Chopper? I’m heading over to the science building to talk to a professor before my biology lab, so we might be heading the same way.”

“I have my chemistry lab there in a bit!” Chopper said.

“Perfect, we can head over now.” You smiled, before thinking for a second. “Are you in organic chemistry, Chopper? Or are you in some higher class?”

“No, I’m still in general chemistry,” Chopper nodded excitedly, but then looked down at his feet. “I think I’m in your class…” 

“Oh, shit,” you blurted, feeling guilty. “Where do you sit? I don’t think I’ve seen you in class before…”

“In the front.”

“...Really?”

Chopper blushed, looking embarrassed, “I can’t see when I sit in the back…”

“Well, I can sit up there with you tomorrow!” you offered. “If that’s not a problem, that is. It might be nice to have someone to talk to.”

“I’d like that!” Chopper smiled, picking up his bag. “But we should head over now, before all the spots get taken.”

You slung your bag over your shoulder, calling back to the table,  “See you guys later! Don’t let Luffy cause too much trouble, please!”

Sabo waved back, laughing, “I’ll do my best, but he can be unpredictable…”

“Hey!” Luffy shouted, “I’m 100% predictable!”

“That’s not—”

Before the conversation could grow into an uncontrollable argument, you escaped with Chopper in tow. Luffy may be unpredictable in seemingly every other aspect of life, but you could certainly predict how that was going to go. There would be no winners in that cafeteria, only poor, emotionally-scarred college students.

It’s truly amazing what you can learn from someone despite knowing them for less than a month.

“I fucking hate chemistry, Chopper,” you deadpanned, feeling wrinkles etch on your face as you looked over the lab you’d gotten on Tuesday.

You’d been sitting at one of the few tables in the building, trying to get a start on your lab before Chopper finished completing the in-class portion of his, but you’d been struggling with question two for roughly the entirety of Chopper’s lab, leaving you feeling hopeless, even with the aid you’d received from the professor.

Chopper looked shocked, joining you at the table, “It’s not that bad! I promise it’ll get better, ____! If you want, I can help you study?”

“Truly, Chopper,” you sighed, “I think I’m a lost cause. But I’ll still take you up your offer.”

You dug your phone out of your pocket and opened your contacts, swapping info with Chopper. Another friend to add to the collection, and this one had inherent value to your major!

“Thanks, Chop.” You smiled, tucking your phone away. “I should probably head to my psych class now, so good luck with your lab.”

“Thank you, ____!” Chopper beamed, waving you goodbye.

Luckily, your psych class was in the next building over, so you didn’t have to worry about being late. In fact, the only thing you had to worry about was your chemistry lab. Psychology wasn’t too hard for you, especially back at South Blue High. It was basically just memorization—albeit a lot of memorization—that you didn’t really struggle with. Differentiating ideas could be a tad difficult, but nothing you couldn’t manage. Way better than chemistry, at least.

Your class wasn’t all too great, however. It was full of people who didn’t really want to talk to others, leading to incredibly bland discussion times. Their lack of enthusiasm killed your vibe, so despite the subject being a total snoozefest, you weren’t really looking forward—

“Hey, ____!” Luffy yelled, waving at you from a lone table near the back. 

Sitting beside your rambunctious friend was his brother, Sabo, who also gave you a polite wave.

“...Is this part of the field trip?” you asked Sabo.

“Well, I’m TA-ing for this class, so I thought it might help Luffy to learn about other subjects!” Sabo said, grinning.

“Wait, you’re the TA for this class?” You raised an eyebrow, setting your bag down at a nearby desk. “I didn’t see you on Wednesday, and you weren’t introduced either.”

Sabo leaned back in his chair, “It was a spur of the moment thing. I’m a sociology major, but I thought I might dabble in psychology. It’s fascinating, the mind, and what you can do with it…”

“You sound like a supervillain.”

“Me? A supervillain?” Sabo gasped, putting a hand over his heart. “I’ll have you know, I am the kindest, gentlest, utmost altruistic gentleman this world has ever seen! Isn’t that right, Luffy?”

Luffy blinked, not a single thought going on behind his eyes, “Sabo is totally awesome! One time Ace dared him to eat a caterpillar, and he did it!”

“...Gentleman, huh?” you snickered.

Sabo shrugged, his grin tugging at one end of his mouth, “What can I say, I was a strange child. But not as strange as Luffy…”

“Hey!” Luffy yelled, shaking Sabo violently as the latter laughed.

“Well, if you have any questions, just ask,” Sabo said, easily pushing Luffy off. “Though, you seem like a smart cookie, so I’m sure you’ll do just fine.”

“Or you could ask me!” Luffy shrieked, trying to push back against Sabo.

You laughed, finally taking your seat as class began. With Sabo and Luffy providing you company, the class wasn’t so bad. Sabo was nice to talk to during discussion times, as well as when you were filling out your notes—though it was slightly grating to hear your notes being critiqued. Luffy, despite being reprimanded by the professor multiple times, kept the mood of the entire class up. Luckily Sabo was good at smooth talking, or else Luffy would have probably been expelled. You can only break the same desk so many times before being a lost cause.

As soon as the clock struck 3:20, everyone filed out of the room. You left with Sabo and Luffy, making your way over to the cafeteria for dinner, though Sabo planned on showing Luffy one more class before officially ending their ‘field trip.’

“Has any class struck a chord with you, Luffy?” you asked, glancing over to your friend.

Luffy seemed to think for a moment before speaking, “Nope.”

“Seriously, Luf?” Sabo groaned, pulling on his hair. “Not even sociology? Come one, it’s awesome!”

“I hate sitting in a classroom all day!” Luffy pouted, dragging his feet as he walked. “I wanna do something cool, like being a firefighter!”

“Well, you can bring that up to your advisor,” you offered. “I’m sure there’s a degree that—”

“Fire Fist!”

You felt a tug on your waist as Sabo pulled you ever-so-slightly closer to him and away from Luffy, and within an instant you understood why. Hurling towards Luffy at top speeds was Ace, who tackled Luffy and sailed into the nearby grass patch.

“That’s 572 to 0, Luffy!” Ace cackled, slapping his brother harshly on the back.

Luffy heaved for a couple of seconds, clearly trying to catch his breath after being so blatantly assaulted by his older brother.

“I’ll get you next time,” Luffy scowled, jumping to his feet. “I’ve been working on my punches too!”

“Oh, I’m shaking in my boots,” Ace snorted.

“Now, now, guys,” Sabo said, releasing you. “You almost hurt this poor young lady! What would Dadan say if she saw you now?”

“Don’t leave the house until you’ve done your chores?” Luffy responded, picking his nose.

Ace punched Luffy again, causing the latter to fall over onto the grass. He stepped up back onto the sidewalk, approaching you with an apologetic smile on his face.

“Sorry ‘bout that, ____,” Ace chuckled, scratching his head. “But brothers will be brothers, ya know? Can’t go a day without tackling one of them.”

“I seem to manage just fine,” Sabo coughed.

“...In other news,” Ace said, “I thought I might invite Luffy and his gang of pals—that’s you—to a lovely restaurant in order to celebrate the upcoming hockey season!”

“Is it really hockey season? School literally just started,” you deadpanned.

Ace barked out a laugh, “Every season is hockey season, baby! Now, I have other plans currently that I’m 10 minutes late for—”

“You’re what ?” Sabo’s eyes widened as he turned to Ace.

“—and I need to be there soon, so I’ll take your stunned silence as a ‘yes’ to coming, and I’ll see you Saturday night at eight!”

Before you could even respond to Ace’s outlandish statements, he sprinted away as quickly as he came, dashing through—not around—groups of people, knocking over countless bystanders as he ran away.

“Your brother is a work of art, Sabo,” you finally said, feeling breathless watching Ace’s escape.

Sabo only snorted, looking down amusedly as his little brother rolled angrily through the grass.

“Which one?”

“...Fair point.”

tag list: @sylum , @dimplewonie , @kingofthemfingpirates , @luuffyswife

[pugh-bug]

No.42 Chapter 3

Art Donaldson x reader slow burn friends to lovers

Sorry for the wait! The day I set aside to get loads done on this I ended up having to visit a family member in hospital, he’s much much better now. Anyway oversharing. I hope you enjoy this chapter! I loved writing it. Let me know if you wanna be added to my tag list 💕

Part 1

Part 2

——————————————————————

You woke up on Saturday morning to a missed text from Art.

7:58am - text from Art

Sorry if I woke you when I left. Gone to play hard court today hope you slept alright on that couch.

The sudden realisation that you were not in fact in your bed hit you almost as hard as the loose spring in your back. You groaned, reaching for some leftover pizza. None left. You groaned again.

9:26am - text to Art

Did you eat all your pizza?

To your surprise the boy replied immediately, showcasing his ability to read your mind.

9:27am - text from Art

Afraid so :) Look in the fridge if you’re so hungry

The fridge, despite the tightness of your apartment, had never looked so far away. You’d rather wait the nine hours for Art to return and pass food to you through a funnel. He could create some sort of feeding tube, perhaps he could fashion it out of one of the dozen tennis ball containers Patrick left lying around. You hadn’t seen the floor in years.

It took you almost thirty minutes to peel your lifeless body off the sofa and trudge the eight metres to the fridge. Before all of your fingers had grasped the cold metal you caught it. The smell.

The month you and Patrick were flat hunting had been a difficult one, full of stress and disappointments. A week before you found the flat you now called home, Art had found crying outside your favourite pancake place. You didn’t know if Patrick had texted him, giving him a heads up of your less than stellar mood and where to find you, or if he had simply ran into you by accident but one minute he was there.

The two of you had shared your favourite, strawberry and kiwi pancakes with whipped cream, despite having never spent time alone together previously and it hadn’t been awkward. Any awkwardness had come from your inability to keep your emotions to yourself and not a mess for all to see. Art hadn’t minded in fact, unbeknownst to you, he’d greatly enjoyed your company and had had a shitty day himself before your talk.

10:02am - text to Art

Did I ever mention I love you living here??

Sitting proudly in the fridge, in between Patrick’s abandoned pasta and your pathetic amount of cheese, was a plate of strawberry and kiwi pancakes. You looked at the pile of washing up and noticed essence of strawberry still dripping from the chopping board next to a whisk and bowl.

‘God damn…’ you actually moaned aloud at the first bite. Not only were they delicious but they’d been made especially for you for no reason. No one had ever made you breakfast before, unless you counted the time Patrick threw a box of muffins at your head to wake you up for school. It often didn’t take a great amount of effort to impress you, something maybe a therapist needed to hear about, but you felt justified being impressed with Art for this. They were truly wonderful.

10:20am - text from Art

Come thank me in person if you want, Liam is taking another break

You couldn’t help but smile at his little dig at Liam, whether intentional or not it told you everything you needed to know: Art was the better player. Art was always the better player, he usually wiped the floor with anyone who wasn’t Patrick.

It was only a twenty minute walk to Stanford and although you were ashamed to admit it … you had nothing better to do on a Saturday morning. You decided to pack your laptop, so you could kid yourself that this was a productive thing and not just an excuse to watch Art sweat. The damn thing wouldn’t even get opened and you knew it.

It was a hot day, even for Summer it was unforgiving. You pulled at your tank top, attempting to negate any sweat stains by leaving a gap between your wet skin and the thin fabric. No such luck, the car window reflection of yourself showed you the harsh reality. How did Art do it? How did he look sexy whilst sweating? You felt like a drowned dog, heaving and panting in the back of a muggy car trying to see past the drops of sweat in your lashes.

You reached Stanford earlier than you expected and to your great satisfaction, saw no Art present. That gave you ample time to tidy yourself up in the toilets before meeting him. The college had crisp air con, much better than the pathetic excuse for a fan you and Patrick would crowd round on hot days.

Art didn’t text you directions because he didn’t need to. He knew you’d visited Patrick enough times to know your way around all the tennis courts, hard or otherwise. It didn’t take you long to find the right one.

‘Fuck!’

You scanned the indoor courts for the source of the outburst. Art, third court from the left and he was not happy. For a moment you teetered on your feet, unsure if it was better to wait a bit before interfering with their clearly tense match. Before you could make a decision however-

‘Y/N!’

Liam spotted you, putting his racket down immediately to wave you over. He’d once gotten drunk and told Patrick how much he liked you but that it had been so long ago that you’d almost forgotten and his new girlfriend was a tennis star. On the ‘up and up’ as Patrick’s dad would say.

Although Liam’s hug was intense, sweaty and pretty uncomfortable you were too focused on Art to cringe. He was rubbing his face with his hands, looking more pained than you’d ever seen him. You didn’t know why. He’d been playing well before you arrived.

Noticing the object of your frown, Liam suddenly grinned even wider. ‘He just lost the third set.’ Art took a large swig of water, not noticing the way you stared in awe at the angle of his jaw and the wet curls on his forehead. He was too focused on the racket he was clutching fiercely enough to force the veins of his forearm to pull your attention.

‘I know it’s not over yet,’ Liam panted slightly, clearly Art had still run him ragged. ‘But this never happens - never.’ In the years they’d played together, Liam had never beaten Art. Not in singles or doubles. Not on hard court. Not on clay or grass. Never. You were not convinced, however, that poor Liam had never won a set before so you voiced your opinion without thinking.

‘Art, you can still win. It’s fine!’

Art shot you a glare. It didn’t last long but it burned you a little, the intensity of it. He wanted so badly for you to be right, for it to not matter to him. ‘It’s just a game’ well it wasn’t to Art. It was his entire future and if he lost - if he lost ever - it was him throwing that future away.

‘You’ll win the fourth.’ You smiled, reassuringly. That lifted Art a little and bruised his partner.

‘I thought we were stopping for a bit since Y/N’s here.’ Art watched your face for a reaction, daring you to decide for the three of them. Without removing your eyes from Art you smiled. ‘No, no. I’ll watch.’

You watched them play for another hour and a half. Art just won the fourth set, by the narrowest of margins but that gave him the confidence boost he badly needed to destroy Liam in the fifth. Th-wack! Smash. Th-wack! Slice. Th-wack! Topspin. You were honestly confused why Liam bothered serving. If it had been you - well - let’s just say the floor would have made a more than sufficient bed. It was certainly making a sufficient seat for you to watch Liam get massacred. God was Art good.

‘You win…’ Liam was dripping, his white shirt almost see-through. ‘I need a sec…’ So did you. It was practically a workout just watching them. You clapped as Art walked over to you, looking very satisfied with his win. ‘You happy now?’

‘Very.’

As Liam rung out his shirt, Art gestured to the court with his racket. ‘You and me. One game.’ His eyes were full of amusement.

‘Ha.’

You’d die.

‘One set?’ He smirked, desperate for you to humour him. Not today. ‘Absolutely not.’ You laughed, standing up.

‘Actually, I’d love lunch right now,’ Liam’s suggestion was a necessity. ‘After a shower.’ And so was his afterthought. They both needed one desperately. Art’s hair didn’t even look blonde anymore.

‘Yeah you two go, I’ll wait then we can get food. I’m not super hungry but I can always eat.’

Liam was already rushing to the showers, practically leaving a pool of loser evidence behind him but Art heard. He looked like he was waiting for something from you and for a moment, in your haze, you wondered what. Oh!

‘The pancakes,’

‘Hm.’

‘De-licious.’

‘Good.’

You could tell he was happier with your compliment than he was letting on. The truth was Art craved praise, mostly for tennis but for anything he accomplished. It didn’t matter if he’d made a three tier cake, organised a trip or won every set in a match he wanted to know he’d done good.

‘Seriously, how did you even find the recipe?’ The two of you walked together out of the hall. ‘I’ve been asking the staff for years, pretty sure they hate me now actually.’

‘I have my ways.’ He grinned. ‘Now, I’m gonna go shower-‘

‘Good, you stink.’

‘Fuck off.’

Chapter 4

Masterlist

Taglist: @gatorgirl007 @imblushingrn

[sugutoad]

Cabin Matchup for @november-solarstorms

╰┈➤ Thank you for doing Matchups at Sugutoad

╰┈➤ Cabin 10 ‘ Goddess of Love, my moms Aphrodite’ 

I’ll be honest, this one just came straight to me. Since you do matchups, you probably had those moments when you see a matchup and it just hits you?

Daughter of Aphrodite and Legacy of Hecate 

Do you know how beautiful you are? The way when entering the room, the sound of heels clicking against the cabin floor, all eyes are on you. They feel intimidated by your cold yet beautiful aura.

You have the best outfits in Camp Half Blood. After bribing Chiron that at least once every month campers should be allowed to wear whatever they wish. But Chiron insisted that orange must be somehow incorporated through your outfit but let’s be honest, it’s hard to pull the colour orange if you don’t know what you are doing.

After hearing that news, campers flooded the Aphrodite cabin. They were so eager to talk to you, to sort of thank you and help them with an outfit. Together you and your siblings made everyone look beautiful.

Even though charmspeak is quite rare amongst Aphrodite kids, being a legacy of Hecate sort of gave you a boost up. Sorcerers have been known to use charmspeak such as Medea. But even if it weren’t for Hecate, I just feel like you would get charmspeak with that sharp tongue of yours.

You radiance so much confidence, the young campers look up at you. Though you are known to be aloof, you have the sweetest smile but some people say it’s the use of your Aphrodite beauty but only you know the truth

You have control over magic, maybe not as much as Lou Ellen or Alabaster but since your father was the son of Hecate you had some control. And I know for a fact that Drew and other Aphrodite kids get jealous at times since outfits tend to be seasonal. You really can’t wear a short skirt in the winter, right? Well not if you don’t have magic. Using a small spell, you can control the warmth of your body. So despite it freezing or boiling outside, you can wear anything you feel like.

Fighting is a dance when it comes to you. Think of Mitsuri from Demon Slayer. The way you grab your sword, tiptoeing around and spinning so gracefully. It all looks so sequenced out and so beautiful.

Can I just say you would be besties with Drew? Ultimately two Aphrodite girls who are so similar ought to be friends. When Drew was elected councillor of the Aphrodite cabin, she elected you as her assistant to help her around. Though we all know she just wanted your company and to talk with someone, she didn’t want to be lonely.

Whenever there is a party, you always help set everything around. Whether it’s making the lights or making sure everyone looks beautiful. But no one ever knows where you are when the party happens. Plot Twist: You are most likely in your room and reading a horror story . But don’t worry, your siblings won’t rat you out and will bring food from the party. Drew always pokes you around for liking too much horror and ghost thing, she won’t admit but she is scared of ghosts and you bringing them up all the time isn’t helping,

You are one of the top demigods in Camp Halfblood. You pass all your classes with flying colours, whether it’s archery or hand-to-hand combat. While Percy was doing his own prophecy, you were sent on small quests to help the camp. 

I don’t know why… but I feel like you would join the Titan Army. Upon hearing that, your siblings were heartbroken but when the war was finished they welcomed you with open arms.

After leaving for New Rome for college, you certainly left a mark and legacy in Camp. Memories of you linger around every part of Camp.

I know this is a cabin matchup but can I just add that if I were to give you a romantic matchup it would be Rachel? But if you are interested in guys then perhaps Leo/Percy?

[swappingbryn]

I Wasn’t Subtle

When I first saw him, he was narcissistic and arrogant. He knew he was hot and he wanted you to notice and admire him. And I did notice and I became obsessed, but can you blame me?

I was obsessed, but I never intended to do anything about it. He was just some TikTok “celebrity” that I followed and I was resigned to have that be the end of it.

However, I recognized the background of one of his newest posts, it was only 10 minutes away, I was the one who installed that hardwood floor in the hotel gym. I remember because I told them how bad of an idea it was to put that floor in a space with heavy objects that would be dropped. I knew I’d never have a chance like this again, I got in my truck and just drove. All the way there I was thinking of reasons to give management of why I had to go into the gym.

But luck was on my side. When I pulled in the garage, he was just standing there posing, oblivious and ignorant of everything around him. I tried to act normal, but once I got close, I attacked. He was younger, bigger, stronger, in much better shape, but I was determined and he was still tired from the gym. After what felt like hours, but was only a few seconds, I was in control.

I went back into the hotel, acting as if I hadn’t just attacked an internet celebrity, stolen their body, and went back to my room. I could feel him inside of me, still fighting but unable to do anything. He was locked away securely, never to escape again.

I got changed and decided to test out my new body. Heading back to the gym, I know he had just completed a long session, but I wanted to try it too. I was able to easily do more sets and reps at higher weights than I ever did in my old life, and even though this body was tired and sore, it felt amazing.

I went back to my room, got changed again, and went out to get food. After two long, arduous gym sessions and a fight for ownership and control of this body, I was starving. I might have been a little sexual with my snap story as I ate, but I knew from experience my followers loved that stuff.

I loved showing off this body, it’s long (hairy) legs, golden hair, prominent bulge, and flaunting the money and influence I now had. That night I continued my exhibition of showing off my body. Maybe not wearing boxers under my bathing suit was a bold choice, maybe wearing a sheer bathing suit that clung to my bulge when wet was a bit over the top, and perhaps showing my ass in posts was slightly (but only SLIGHTLY) out of the ordinary.

But like I said, I was not acting subtle.

[cielwritings]

If it's okay could you do something with yandere! Ciel and yandere! Sebastian x timid reader who develops stockholm syndrome? 👀 There would be no escaping them theyre too powerful rip.

! Yandere!Sebaciel x Reader !

say less :p

tw: mental abuse, physical abuse, emotional abuse, neglect

Ciel and Sebastian were both partners before you came around, but when you did, something clicked inside the two of them. They didn’t need to verbally express it. All it needed was a mutual look in the eye to know what each other wanted.

Ciel being a yandere is troubling, but both? You’re in for a ride.

They’re two different yanderes. Sebastian likes to tend to you, keeping you as safe as possible. Ciel likes to mark you, to make you his territory.

Sometimes Ciel will go over the top. Of course he won’t do things you explicitly tell him no to. Though if he can, he’ll bruise you, bite you, or write on you with permanent marker.

Sebastian treats you like you’re his master/mistress, except, times 10.

..This scares you. A lot. You can’t go anywhere with the feeling of Sebastian lurking over your shoulder. Ciel’s presence is threatening, you have to walk on eggshells with him.

And at the end of the day, you couldn’t bring yourself to entertain them. It just lead you to be punished.

Sebastian’s punishments are emotional anguish. He’s the most caring, so you’re drawn to him more than Ciel. Admittedly, you don’t mind the way he tends to you. It’s the way he does it. So when he randomly stops tending to you snd gets Ciel to do it, you panic.

This continues until you beg for him to keep going. Even then, he won’t continue if you don’t say you’re sorry.

Ciel’s can be physical and mental, albeit not straight up punching you, he will make you constantly feel uncomfortable. Being a bit too close, wearing textures you find unpleasant, and wearing clothes colored to make your eyes sore.

One of Ciel’s punishments, he had you on your knees in front of him. He was slowly stroking your cheek, breathing softly through his mouth. He was close enough that you felt the heat on you, and it made you quite uncomfortable.. especially with how close his thumbs were to your eyes.

The moment you began to fall in love, was the moment you broke. It was the same night Sebastian found you trying to escape the manor.

“Whatever do you think you’re doing?” he states, tray to his hip. “My, my..”

He ordered you to sit on the couch, being guarded by Baldroy. He told Ciel what had happened, and they both agreed on a punishment.

You were in an old room the household rarely ever touched. It was completely cleared out, perhaps originally going to be used for storage or a guest room. They sat you in there. There was nothing to do.

You sat in there for who knows how long. None of them told you an exact timeframe. Though, Ciel said it was between a few days and two weeks.

The only way you survived was being given water and plain food. White bread with unsalted, dehydrating crackers. The way they gave it to you? They waited until you were passed out from exhaustion to put it in the room. Even the plate and utensils were bland.

They wanted you to have as little stimuli as possible.

Ciel was delivering your food one day, but you weren’t completely passed out. You were spread out on the floor, eyes just barely open, facing the door. He placed the food and drink down, then sighed through his nose. Even waking you up with noises was something they couldn’t have.

You noticed that there were extra portions this time, something out of character for Ciel. He probably missed you.

Just barely, you croaked out a ‘thank you’ and a ‘you’re kind’.

Even in this situation.. you thought he was kind?

Ciel called off the punishment and had you in his arms those same ten minutes. Somehow, that was the weirdest part of all of this. Being neglected stimuli for potentially weeks and then suddenly feeling warmth and comfort…

It took you a while to get back to your old self. You were still nervous around them, but you noticed more about them. Whenever Sebastian looked at you, his eyes would momentarily light up with love.

Whenever you looked at Ciel, his jaw would unclench, and his shoulders would relax. Something about knowing these facts comforted you. They had their guard down around you, so why shouldn’t yours be?

Sebastian was the first you kissed. He was bathing you, asking for permission to touch your chest or groin. You gave him a kiss mid question, right on the cheek.

“You don’t have to ask to touch when you bathe me..” you mumble. “If you don’t get spots, they’ll be dirty and infected..”

He was in shock, though softly chuckled at your words and nodded. “You’re very right.”

Ciel was more forceful. Not in a mean way, but when he heard you kiss Sebastian, he grabbed your cheeks and kissed your lips.

“That bastard better have not taken your first kiss. Did he?” “…N-No..” “Good. You’re mine. Stay in this room with me until I excuse you.”

You sat on his lap the whole time.

[sarahblueskyyyy]

Frames

Romance, MaxBradley, Fluff, Slow Burn, Tension, Post Canon, Future Setting, Happy Ending, Reunion, etc.

Bradley Uppercrust the Third, has always been and always will be someone who’s minding his own business. At least—that’s what he has learned throughout the years, ever since his university life.

“Oh, God—are you seriously saying that? I can’t believe you!”

He lets out a yawn. His head is filled with what he should eat when he finally gets home. A takeaway from that one Chinese diner might be nice—or he could just bring home something. The owner of this restaurant is kind enough to share any remaining food with his employees anyway.

“Bradley, you seein’ this?” One of the waiters nudges him with his elbow. He cocks his head towards the center of the freshly-made exhibition. “That guy is gonna get dumped. It’s a painful sight.”

Bradley rolls his eyes. “Really, as if there isn’t anything worth watching.”

“At this moment? No, not exactly.”

A kitchen staff member rings a bell—an implicit order for a server to fetch the cooked meal to its customer. Bradley picks a tray, puts that plate onto it, and his blue eyes scrutinize the number of the table that is attached to a bill besides the plate.

How lucky. It’s the table with that couple that has been on each other's throats for the last 10 minutes. Well, to be more specific, the lady dog is the one who’s berating him, and the poor guy is just accepting it in silence.

Eh. Maybe he deserves it.

Bradley shrugs and brings that tray towards the table, unwavering. It’s not really his problem, but perhaps he should meddle, for other customers have been whispering and trading looks. Certainly concerning to the restaurant’s reputation. And, who knows, he might get some appreciation from his boss if he could break lovers’ quarrels.

However, when he arrives at the table—even before he could part his lips to say a word—the lady dog stands abruptly. Without him realizing it, her fingers wrap around that glass of whiskey, and her arm swings in a forward motion, transferring all the liquid inside to drench the other person on that table.

The other man is still looking down. His hair, pitch black like a pair of a raven’s wings, is damp and shiny under the light. Droplets form rivulets on that head before they fall free from the pointy end of his hair.

Bradley sure hopes it was the climax of her wrath, and perhaps God answers his hidden thought because, in the next second, that lady dog storms away until she is no longer inside the building.

Alright. At least one problem has ceased for now. Bradley sighs. His job still requires him not to be a dick, so he calls out delicately to the poor guy, offering his condolences and help.

“I’m sorry for what has happened. May I offer you our hospitality, and get you some dry towels—”

When the other guy lifts his face, this time Bradley manages to have a good look. He can’t prevent the smirk that creeps into his cheeks, carving an absolutely snarky expression.

“Ha!” His scoff surprises almost everyone in that room. “Long time no see, freshman.”

Maximilian Goof groans, and the frown on his forehead is apparent. “I miss you too.”

It looks like both of them developed a sense of humor over the years.

.

“Don’t you have work to do?”

As sharp as it might sound, the sentence lost its bite completely. Max receives the towel Bradley gives him and places the fluffy fabric on top of his head. His ears sag on the sides of his face like usual, but this time they look even more slumpy because of the whiskey.

“My boss pities you.” It sounds like a plain mockery, but no—Max notices it’s just how Bradley talks. How has he always been. “Besides, my shift is gonna be over soon. So, dry yourself up, be a doll, and go home.”

Max doesn’t answer that. Instead, he rubs his own hair with a tad too much force, finding the rocky pavement more interesting to pay attention to.

Bradley breaks the uncomfortable stillness with a question, “So—what went wrong? I didn’t take you to be the cheating type. Or a jerk—oh, wait, you maybe are one.”

“Perhaps take a look into a mirror for once.” Max is pressing the back of his head. Then, after that, the tone of his voice gets gentler a notch. “Nothing, really. I just admitted I’ve lost my feeling for her, and I thought it’s best to break it up now than prolong it into something worse.”

“Lost?” Bradley isn’t sure why he needs a confirmation, but he asks it anyway, “Or never had it in the first place?”

That makes Max snap his neck towards Bradley, his expression almost unidentifiable. But for some reasons—for Bradley, it is quite clear what’s going on inside his mind. Max wears his heart on his sleeve; it is easy to see and even easier to break. Max looks hurt and betrayed—like a child who’s caught red-handed doing something he shouldn’t do, and now he can’t lie through his teeth about it.

Aha. Bradley shakes his head and smiles. "You've got to train your poker face more.”

“That’s not funny, Brad.”

“It's Bradley, and I wasn’t trying to be a jester.” Bradley thinks for a few seconds before he proceeds with his words, “Big chances are that lady knew you were lying to her. She probably figured out you never really loved her, and yet, like a fool, you keep being kind to her until you realize it’s futile. You let her make you the bad guy.”

Max’s lips grow apart. His eyes are fixated on the figure in front of him, incredulously.

“What? Bull’s eye?”

“How do you know that?”

“What don't I know?” Bradley mentally takes note of how—maybe some things aren’t meant to change. Case in point: Max Goof’s naivete. A wave of innocence blankets his personality and protects him from the world’s vile truths, and they against his optimism. A combo match made in heaven. “Anyway, are you done? I need to get ready to go home; it’s getting chilly.”

Bradley is greeted by faint cricket sounds and the night wind.

Max takes a deep breath and empties his lungs before he answers, “I share an apartment with her. I can’t exactly waltz into my home right now.”

“Are you serious?”—that’s what Bradley was going to ask. That, and probably followed by, “How is that my problem? I ain’t your babysitters; figure things out yourselves, hon.”

Unfortunately for him, as he matures in age, empathy seeps inside him now more than ever, and the intensity magnifies compared to when he was still an adolescent. And also, all the hardship he encounters perhaps contributes to the sentiment.

Bradley knows he’s going to regret this, but the last thing he wants is to find the possibility of tomorrow’s newspaper filled with information about a missing dog or a dead one. Exaggerating it might sound.

“Do you want to stay at my place?”

.

.

.

Bradley isn’t kind, compassionate, or polite enough to sputter out the courtesy, “Make yourself at home.” He doesn’t need to, anyway, because the younger Goof marches inside the apartment with such confidence.

“Sit.” Bradley’s forefinger is aimed at his couch. “I’ll give you my unused shirt and towel.” Before he himself goes into the bedroom, the corners of his eyes catch Max's unusual excitement towards the living space. Bradley alarms him with an order—which he’s quite sure will be disregarded completely. “Don’t look, don’t touch, nothin’.”

Max gives him a half-hearted thumbs up. He can hear Bradley’s grumble as he walks inside his room. Then, the black-haired canine, as expected, starts looking around the place. Order and rules are meant to be broken—or however the saying goes.

If there is one thing he realizes once he steps foot inside the house, it’s how inhumanely tidy this place is. Small paintings are framed and nailed to the wall with such precision that they rival the strictness of Britain’s royal regulations. Mugs, accessory bowls, and ornaments are placed in their own designated area. There is no dirty laundry or random briefs on the corners of the room, which, by Max’s standard, is preposterous. Who doesn’t throw their shirt somewhere on the floor once in a while? There are many times when Max is exhausted and just overwhelmed by his work; his limbs feel like they’re falling out, and he can’t be bothered by doing laundry.

However, his mind’s focus shifts almost instantly when he sees three framed photos on the TV table.

The first frame is a photo of Bradley and his—Gamma Mu Mu. He had his usual arrogant lines on his expression, while the rest of the members were wearing this silly laugh. It looks surprisingly endearing.

The second one is his graduation photo. A formal one where he wore a mortarboard and the college’s distinct cloak. In that picture, he stands tall with his chin up, yet he’s alone. The display alone raises Max’s memory of his own graduation photos—and there are a ton of them. Of course, his father, Goofy, insisted on such an idea to make sure they have something to remind them of home—no matter how far the world may take them. And Max, albeit being surged by the complexity of embarrassment and elation, is forever thankful to his dad. He remembers the series of photos of him, Bobby, and P.J., then some others of him, his dad, and Sylvia.

So why did Bradley take the photo alone?

Before the cogs of his head could turn and arrive at a conclusion, his eyes had already moved to the third frame, and it's empty. There is nothing in it.

Why bother setting up the frame, then?

“Having fun diving your nose into my business, Max?”

“How come the third frame is empty?”

Crass, brash—Bradley didn’t know Max could showcase two insufferable traits in one go. But he’s been proven wrong, hasn’t he?

Bradley’s refusal to answer is prominent. He shoves a set of comfortable clothes into Max’s arms, which readily cradle them. That, and a clean towel. The silky smell of fabric softener is gently spewed out of those cloths, and the electric synapse in Max’s brain works fast to associate the fragrance with Bradley.

“Take a shower, stinky.”

Max offers a genuine smile. “Thanks.”

When he finally steps inside the bathroom, Bradley sighs deeply. Wondering what he’s gotten himself to.

.

Bradley has taken his own bath when he enters his room with a towel hanging on top of his head. His sky-colored eyes look at Max, who’s now leisurely lying down on a mattress he provided before. There is a scrunch between Max’s eyebrows and his fingers typing fast on the thin screen of his phone—Bradley can guess several reasons for such behavior.

The Uppercrust sits down on the edge of his bed. He blinks—once, twice. Perhaps he’s really drained because his eyelids struggle to keep them lifted. And the effect of the warm bath that relaxed his whole body is surely pumping the melatonin even more.

He still observes the young Goof. The way his own shirt fits on his toned body, sharp blade shoulders, and a little too tight on his biceps and the curves of his muscles are obvious behind the cloth. Huh. Brandley wonders if Max has always leaning on the sturdy side, even back in the day.

“Are you sleepy yet?”

Bradley snatches the towel off, then spreads it on the hanger to ensure its dryness the following day.

“Unlike you, I worked all day. So, in a matter of fact—yes, I am. Goodnight.”

“I worked all day, too.”

“And getting dumped by the end of it? God really hates you, Goof.”

Max scoffs and smiles. He puts down his phone, eliminating a source of dim light in that room. “So, tell me. What a rich guy like you doin’ in a restaurant as a server nonetheless?”

“Haven’t you heard?” Bradley flicks off the switch of his table lamp, and instantly, the room is engulfed by the dark. “I got disowned right after the X Games. Cash is an old friend.”

Max can feel his furrow go even deeper. A little more of that, and it’ll dig into his skull. “I thought that was just a—rumor.”

“Why would it be?” Bradley yawns, and as a result, a drop of tears prickles out of his eyes. He rubs it away. The timbre of his voice insinuates that this is no more than a weather talk—it’s concerning for Max personally. “Uppercrust never jokes when it comes to the things that matter the most.” 

“…. I can see that now.” A silence. “Is that why I practically never saw you anymore after the games?”

“More or less.” Bradley speculates how many more questions he needs to answer before the curiosity weans off. But then he realizes it feels good to talk about himself occasionally. And to be fair, it’s been a long time since he did that. “Gotta focus on graduating, then job-seeking. It wasn’t so bad. It took me fast enough to comprehend that the money you gain yourself is far more satisfying than being given.”

“But that’s …,” Max’s words dissipate in the air before it comes back to its track, “… crazy. I mean, why would parents abandon their own child? I know my father wouldn’t.”

“Good for you.” Bradley can’t see Max since he’s lying on his back, but he’s pretty sure that empty head is tilting in confusion. He continues, “People are just different. You of all people should’ve known that.”

“You did almost kill me. And Tank. And the others.”

“…. That I did. If my memory serves me correctly, I have properly apologized."

"You have." Max huffs quietly. His vision scans the strange ceiling, almost alienating since he’s gotten used to his own. “You’ve mellowed.”

Bradley almost lost his drowsiness. “Are you calling me old?”

“Well, I mean—I am 29 this year. That makes you … what, 40?”

“Your perception of others is fucked. I’m 33.”

“Oh. Well. It wasn’t an insult.”

“Sure, it wasn’t.”

Max chuckles. His laugh is light and airy, oozing across the room in a tender way. And at the end of that giggle, there is a unique hiccup—something only the Goofs have. It throws Bradley off for a moment. Is he deranged, or somehow, he does miss that laugh? Something he hasn’t heard since a decade ago.

“It’s good, really,” Max tries to convince him. “I mean, how to put this … you are still—you. But you’ve matured and are not as annoying as before—”

“Maxmillian Goof.”

“—but you know. All grown up. Hey, look! Shitty parents don’t always produce shitty kids. So, there is that.”

“I was a shitty kid.”

“Not anymore. If you were, I wouldn’t have been here.”

Bradley pursed his lips in defeat. He wants to retaliate, but then it’ll look ridiculous. So instead, there is an attempt to change the topic, “How about you? No luck with girls, ever, huh?”

“Oh, c’mon ….” Max scratches his nape. “I just haven’t found the right one, I guess.”

Bradley hums. “The right one. That’s a broad description.”

Max ponders for a few seconds before he verbalizes his thoughts, “Well, someone that you’d get married to. The one that stays in your life for the better or worse. Cliché, I know, but—that’s the goal.”

Bradley forgets that not everyone is as laid-back as he is. People tangle themselves in relationships and a series of interlaced emotions so they can have a friend that’ll walk with them until the end of the line. Truth be told, if he wanted to satisfy his primal, compulsory needs, he'd just rub it out or hire someone.

“What if you never find one?”

Max blinks in his direction. “It can’t be helped, then. My dad probably will be more devastated than I am, but—you can’t force a feeling.”

“Look at you. All grown up, huh?”

Max feels a heat crawl into his face, and he groans. “We should sleep.”

“Thank God, I’ve been saying.”

Reticence comes back with the absence of conversation. Just a mild whirling sound from the air conditioner and an even muted ticking from the clock.

“…. Bradley?”

An exasperated sigh. “What, Max?”

“The third photo frames. Why didn’t you put anything in it?”

Bradley closes his eyes.

“The third is not important. Go to sleep.”

Max goes quiet. It doesn’t take him long to drown in his own unconsciousness, pulled by an immense strength that renders him unable to stay awake.

When tomorrow comes, he knows it’s time to say goodbye.

.

The next morning, Bradley wakes up at 6—just like he always does. Apparently, Max woke up even earlier, seeing that his used mattress had been neatly folded. Bradley notices a small note that was put on top of it, with handwriting that he recognizes as Max’s.

Thank you!

M. G. 

That’s what was written.

That’s it, huh? Bradley closes his eyes, reminding himself internally to stay alert, and only after then is he startled by his own thoughts.

That’s it—of course. What am I hoping for?

.

.

.

.

.

“Oh—hey, Maxie.”

Max’s arm freezes in the air, just by the time his fingers are holding a warm cup of latte. His head turns to the side, where he finds a lady dog smiling gently towards him. Max goes agape before his voice resurfaces, “Oh. Hi.”

It’s his ex. The lady dog’s chin perks up in another direction—an invitation to talk. Max’s stomach is filled with a ball of worry as his footstep follows her—and he suddenly remembers that the two of them never really had a chance to talk it out.

That morning, after the one-sided fight and an awful breakup, Max found his apartment already cleared of her stuff. There is no remnant of it except what’s left in memory. If Max didn’t know better, he’d have doubted her existence.

However—he was sure she was real because the feeling was there, no matter how minuscule it was. There were comforting moments between them, a shared fleeting happiness. So, it was real.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t say anything.” The lady dog speaks in a serene demeanor. A contradiction of what she was displaying that night. But Max knows this is how she usually is. “I was just … too distracted, and my emotions got ahead of me, and I selfishly pulled myself away.”

“No—,” Max quickly interrupts her. He parts his lips, trying to say something, and his guilt is weaved along with his explanation, “I’m the one who should’ve been apologized. You’re right; I don’t deserve you, and I shouldn’t stay longer than I did. I hurt you. I’m sorry.”

The lady smiles. No faux geniality, and her heart swells. “You are kind, Maxie. You’ve always been. I took advantage of that. I knew you never loved me, yet I still try to convince you that you do—because I was craving the affection. It was foolish of me, because then I realized that the compassion you had, the kindness you served me with—were never mine in the first place.”

Max’s head slants to one side, and his loopy ears follow the gravitation and sway softly. It is expectedly adorable, and the lady is confident there are other people who’d think the same.

“I don’t know, Max,” she says once again with firm authority, but she doesn’t lose the tenderness. “You love someone, that’s certain. If you’re confused by it, I suggest you better start finding out, for you don’t want something similar like this to happen again.”

Those words root and glide into the slopes of his heart. The lady bids farewell and walks away, and still, Max doesn’t move from where his feet are nestled. Eventually, he drags his limbs outside the café. He isn’t sure where his legs are bringing him forward, but there is an indescribable relief when he stumbles upon someone he knows on the bench near the central town.

A smile instinctively sculpts itself on Max’s face.

“Bradley.”

Bradley grimaces at the sudden sound. Not for long, because he finds a familiarity in that intonation.

“Is this town getting shrunk or what?”

“What are the chances, am I right?” Max sits beside his former upper-class man, ignoring the look of disapproval that is shot towards him. A beat of silence. “I met my ex just now.”

“Congratulation!” Bradley bites back quickly. He takes a furtive glimpse at the Goof and notices how fidgety the man is. “There wasn’t any incident involving liquid, I assume, since the content inside that cup is still whole?”

Max shrugs. “No, there wasn’t.” He looks at Bradly, who mutters a low hum. “What are you doing here, anyway? No work? How about that restaurant?”

“Easy, Max.” He shakes his head. “I’m just taking a walk. Besides, that wasn’t my fixed job. It was part-time until I landed on a permanent one, and I have, so I quit.”

“Oh … good for you.”

“Yep.”

“So, what are you going to do? I mean—what’s your job now?”

“Just simple supervising in a garment factory. The idea is, I’ll get promoted to manager after 2 years.”

“That’s cool. I can’t imagine doing corporate work, though. Being a sports coach feels right for me. A lot of movements and all.”

“Well, each to their own, I guess.”

Max nods, almost in slow motion. His dark eyes stray to glance at something else, but it’s ineffective since his thoughts are reverberating, pleading to get unraveled verbally.

“I’m not good at this. Can I just say whatever's on my mind?”

Bradley exhales in a dramatic manner. “Finally, yes—stop beating around the bush.”

Max’s grin widens from ear to ear. He takes out his phone, and with a somehow crafty look, he tells Bradley, “Look here.”

Bradley automatically slants towards Max, just for him to be met with Max’s phone camera, and the younger guy wastes no time to hit the red button in the middle.

“Hey! What gives?”

“You said the third frame is not important, right?” Max is filled with glee that Bradley doesn’t understand. Max’s goofy teeth peek up from the lips, and there are lines near his eyes, an undeniable proof that the flow of time waits for no one, yet it feels like the same smile he wore when they first met. “Then I claim its spot, and it’s up to me to fill it with whatever.”

“Excuse me? What even are you yappin’ about?”

“Oh! Or maybe you want to settle this on the skateboards, like old times? I don’t mind—it’s our style after all.”

The look on Bradley’s face is one of disbelief. His jaw falls, almost comically. He suspects Max is toying with him. His thoughts dart around, bouncing inside the space in his skull, and he tries to make sense of the situation. However, he sees the grin on Max’s lips and how the evening sun outlines his unruly hair, and he caves in.

“What? You scared?”

“Okay, whatever, Max.” And he'll be a hypocrite if he says he doesn't feel the same thrill. “What do I get if I win?”

“Me vanish from your life forever.”

Bradley raises both of his eyebrows. How fuckin' arrogant and confident! “You’re so full of yourself, you know that?”

“I’d win. So don’t fret about it.”

Max stretches his arm out for Bradley to reach.

And when Bradley does reach for it, his inner voice tells him that it’s probably a bad idea.

But he has nothing to lose, doesn’t he?

.

.

.

EPILOG

“Have you ever expected this?”

P. J. squints at Bobby through the sides of his eyes. He doesn’t need to ask for an answer, because he too knows full well that it was a rhetorical question. He turns his head back to the view in front of him: Max and Bradley are exchanging words with Goofy and Sylvia.

“No,” P. J. says anyway. “Have you?”

Bobby examines the house with his sight. There are photo frames all over it, neatly planted in their own spaces. This is Max’s style and personality talking. However, the precision of every placed object is undoubtedly Bradley’s.

“I know Max swings both ways. I never thought it’d be Bradley at the end of the day.”

“Is that so wrong?”

Bobby grins. His teeth present themselves, and P. J is positive; that’s the biggest beam Bobby can muster.

“No,” the buzz-cut man answers. “Not at all.”

P. J. smiles. Yeah. Of course not.

[cosmerelists]

More Ways for Hoid to be Tortured

[Includes a spoiler for Tress!]

Hoid has sure had it rough lately. He’s had his memories siphoned off, gotten cursed, even spent some quality time as a coatrack. As @kingjasnah points out in this post, Sanderson is setting a precedent here: we’re all expecting ever new and more hilarious shit to happen to Hoid.

So here are some ideas for ways that Hoid might suffer in future Cosmere books.

1. Trapped in a dimension full of talking bananas...who don’t care about stories

Hoid: And that was the story of the banana who looked up.

Banana 1: [yawning]

Banana 2: Sorry, did you say something? I was thinking about radishes.

Banana 3: I feel so neutral about everything you said!

Hoid: ...I may have found a place nearly as unpleasant as Komashi. 

Hoid: Nearly.

2. A new and ever weirder food craving every day.

Hoid: Well, it seems that today I can stomach nothing except mayonnaise-topped pickles.

Design: And you’re sure you’re not pregnant?

3. Trapped on a planet during a time of no plot relevance 

Design: Hey, will you look at that!

Design: According to the town newspaper, old lady Dennis FINALLY figured out who’s been eating her lettuce. 

Design: Get this--it was a rabbit!

Design: That’s something, right?

Hoid: W-Was it an invested rabbit?

Design: Nope! Just a normal one.

Hoid (sinking further into his turtleneck): I have GOT to get my Luck back.

4. Can only communicate via song...after losing his perfect pitch 

Hoid (singing): And thus you should learn, / that if I must, I will let this planet buuuuuuurn!

Design: Your pitch is off by a mere .0005%!

Hoid (singing): And it’s really not fair--this much is true, / that my perfect pitch, went straight to yooooou!

5. Turned into a rat

Rat-Hoid: The worst part is...it’s not even original.

6. De-Aged into a Child

Hoid: It’s not so bad, really.

Hoid: People perhaps don’t take me the most seriously, but then, I was the King’s Wit for a while so I’m used to that.

Hoid: ...I do hear the word “precocious” a lot. 

7. De-Aged into a Baby

Hoid: (furiously signing with his fat baby hands) What is this, an isekai?!

Design: Hmmm...I should start a babysitting business. 

8. Unable to respond to anyone unless his response rhymes

Design: I love it, to be orange.

Design: If I ever need some peace and quiet, I just end every sentence with “orange.” 

Hoid: Once again I must ask you to act a bit less like a poison-filled sporange. 

Design: It’s fun to watch him incorporate that word into all of his sentences!

9. Grows to the size of a mountain

Hoid: It’s not (ouch) that I mind (ouch) the mountain-climbing business that Design (ouch) is running.

Hoid: But the constant (ouch) pick-axes driving into my shins (ouch) does get a tad...distracting.

Hoid: (ouch)

10. Handcuffed to Kelsier, ala Light & L

Kelsier: [eyes gleaming]

Kelsier: And this time you can’t escape me, Drifter!

Hoid: Hey, is that a spike in your eye, or are you just happy to see me?

Kelsier: ...

Kelsier: T-That doesn’t even make any sense!

Hoid: ...This might actually be fun.

[sinnohsiblings]

Abbadons' Gilded Gala Event!

Hello! Eve-of-Halloween here hosting my first-ever community event in celebration of reaching 200 followers! This event will have story/plot significance for sinnohsiblings! Event Dates: 8/31/23 - 10/1/23 What Is this event? Lord Abbadon is hosting a formal ball in his grand palace on the peak of Mount Coronet, and all are invited! Formal attire is required and Legendaries are highly encouraged to join and socialize with their fellow legends of other worlds. Abbadon has extended this invitation across the multiverse. Some rumors say he's playing matchmaker, others say it's an excuse to see his wife but who knows! Who can attend? ANYONE in the Pokemon Askblog community! If your character is capable of shapeshifting they are heavily encouraged to come disguised as humans. If your character is unable to transform Lord Abbadon has commissioned special rings for any non-legendary guest in attendance to grant them the ability to transform if they so desire. You are allowed to bring a plus one but if you bring children there will be a separate area to provide them with games and entertainment as the adult attendees' refreshment table will serve adult beverages such as wines. Children will not be permitted in that area. But food and non-alcoholic drinks will also be provided for all guests. What should I wear?

Anything formal by your character's standards! So long as your character feels good in what they are wearing it will be permitted. But you should dress to impress given the guests of honor. This Gala is basically an overly formal version of a meet-and-greet to get his children to socialize with other Pokemon and legends as they've become far too reclusive for his liking. Examples of outfits can be seen here with Galadriel, Zephyr and Parisa!

How do I participate?

Feel free to interact with other guests/blogs and the cast of this blog. The purpose of this event is to get people to socialize and maybe get out of their shells! Rumor has it that the god of love is a special guest attending at Lord Abbadon's request to work her magic~! So keep an eye out for her! Lady Amore will be playing Cupid and may temporarily hit you with a 3-ask infatuation spell! (This is an optional part of the event see the tags section for how to consent to this event) For those who participate at the end of the event, I will be raffling 2 legendary designs! One of the designs is the daughter of the god of love herself! Perhaps this is her token of apology for all the chaos she is bound to cause~! But beware if you are caught causing too much of a ruckus or entering the off-limits areas the Lycan legion guards of on-duty Zacian and Zamazenta will toss you off the mountain top!

What are the tags for the event? #SINSIBGALA (this is the general event tag! all posts pertaining to the event will be reblogged to @eohblogsrp)

#cursedcrush (use this tag on your post if you want a chance to be hit by Amore's 3 ask love curse! If hit you will become infatuated with the first pokemon you see for 3 asks. it will wear off after that and you will remember that it was the effect of a curse. Blogs who do not have this tag on their event posts will not be targeted.)

When the event starts I will also make a post with a map of Abbadon's palace and several backgrounds that you are free to use for the event! Thank all of you so much for your support and I look forward to more stories to come!

[katyawriteswhump]

the power of love part 7 (steddie, stobin, steve whump fic)

Steve has a habit of surviving near death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

(also on AO3 here)

Chapter Seven

Eddie POV

Steve insists on being pathfinder lead for the next hour. 

Eddie’s gotta admit—following Steve, as he thrashes his way through the undergrowth, is the best entertainment that banishment has provided yet. Steve’s tight-fitting pants don't do any harm. Goddammit, the perspiration patches on Steve’s shirt make Eddie sweat even harder than Steve is.

“You need the fedora hat,” calls Robin, “and you’ve totally nailed the junior Indiana Jones look.”

Steve smirks over his shoulder. “I was channelling that guy out of Romancing the Stone.” 

“Michael Douglas? No way as hot.” Eddie flashes his best flirtatious grin with ever greater confidence. This afternoon, Steve has begun returning them. “Stick to Indy, man.”

By the time they reach the logging camp, however, they’re all beyond exhausted.

Eddie’s feet are raw with blisters, and Robin’s been complaining of the same for the past hour. She limps through the door of the first cabin they come to, which fortunately turns out to be a bunkhouse. She throws down her pack then throws herself onto the bottom of one of two sets of bunks. Steve collapses onto the other lower bunk and appears to fall instantly asleep.

Eddie considers crawling up onto one of the top bunks and seeing if sleep takes pity on him.

He doubts it would. The choppers were a stark reminder of the nightmare reality snapping at his heels, and he’s wired as hell. He begins to unpack their supplies. Robin, having taken a moment, sits back up.

“We should check this place out,” she whispers. “There must be a clean water supply somewhere, maybe a generator. Definitely canned food and that kinda stuff, for when the loggers come back in the autumn.” 

“I guess it’ll make a change from cardboard-flavoured cereal.”

“God, I know, right! I’d literally murder for some Count Chocular right now.”

They split up to search the various cabins. Eddie hits the jackpot first, in the guise of a crate of bottled beer. 

“Seriously?” says Robin, when she meets him outside the bunkhouse. Eddie sits on the beer crate he’s dragged out, taking a well-earned rest. “You’re gonna get buzzed?”

“You got it in one, sister.”

He doesn’t feel the need to justify this—I saw Chrissy butchered in front of my eyes. I’ve spent a week on the run from the cops. I BASICALLY DIED IN A WHIRLWIND OF EVIL KILLER DEMOBATS. And now I’m on the run again, with Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington, and I’ve fallen stupid hard for him. Oh, and there’s a small but real possibility he’s been flayed. Or something else freaky along those lines.

Robin hasn’t quit scowling at him. His smile is the first overtly false one he’s bothered with for a while:

“Forgive me, Robin. I’ve reached the point where, to quote my sweet old Granny—there ain’t nothin’ fuckin’ like it for me nerves. ’Course, she favoured hard liquor.” He offers one of two bottles he’s gotten out to Robin. “Want one?”

“I’ll stick to the cardboard cereal.” Her scowl lessens, though she remains deadly serious. “Look, promise me you won’t give too much to Steve.”

“Why?”

“What kinda pea-brain question is that? Despite the super-commando act, he’s still struggling, it’s totally obvious. Getting trashed is not gonna help.”

“Yeah, but… he’s improving, right?” Her slight wince betrays that, once again, they’re thinking the same thing. Perhaps Steve’s getting stronger, because he’s getting closer again to Lover’s Lake, Hawkins, Vecna, the Hive-Mind, and yet… “You know our little worst-case scenario, Rob? I’m still not buying it.”

The wind rustles the nearby trees. In sync, Robin’s hunched shoulders soften a little. “Me neither. Hand on heart, if Steve had a link to that evil shit, any at all, I’d sense it by now. Although… Was it just me who thought it was weird when the choppers came over, and then it suddenly clouded up?”

“Yeeeeaah, that really was just you. I was too busy eating dirt and shitting myself.” Now he thinks about it, mind, it was darn convenient.

She shrugs. “I guess I’m super-paranoid that way. I literally spent my Middle School years spotting aliens everywhere.”

“You’re kidding?”

“Then I realised they weren’t aliens. It was the Fae all along.”

“You sure it wasn’t dragons?”

“Now you’re being ridiculous.” Her laugh sounds as manic as his latest crazy smile. On the other hand:

“Maybe Steve really is getting better naturally,” he ventures, “and the set-backs are because he’s been overdoing it. I mean, yeah, we keep an eye out for anything cuckoo, watch for connections, make sure he takes rests, but… Time heals, huh?”

“Not always.” She purses her lips, veering straight back into scary mode. “Steve doesn’t like people to know, but since his second major concussion, he’s not supposed to drink. Of course, he does sometimes, but—”

“Message received. I’ll just have the one—for medicinal purposes, ’kay?” 

“Please yourself. Then wake Steve long enough to put our own bedding on those disgusting bunks. I don’t wanna be bitten to death by bed bugs.”

Robin stomps off toward the camp generator. Eddie is executing the important business of prying the top off his beer, when Steve appears, leaning in the cabin doorway. “Why did you both let me… Hey, is that beer?”

The top pops off with a treacherous fizz. “Uh, no?”

“You’re a useless liar.” Steve closes in. His messy, sleep-mussed hair renders him totally edible. 

“You got me.” Eddie darts his tongue nervously across his lips. “This indeed is the amber nectar of the Gods. You want some?” 

There’s a skewed logic behind Eddie’s offer. If he told Steve he couldn’t drink, like he was his mom or something, Steve would probably get mad. He opts to play a good cop, bad cop routine with Robin, who… 

Eddie glances toward the generator.

She’s not there. If bad cop isn’t gonna show, then he needs a Plan B.

“I guess I’ll have one.” Steve stretches to take the bottle. 

“Just gonna test it. Been here a while.” 

Eddie takes a glug, splutters it out across dusty ground. “Oh man, it’s worse than cat-piss.” He’s only slightly exaggerating. “There’s a reason those lumberjacks left this garbage behind.”

Steve yawns into the back of his hand. “Gonna be honest. I’m not supposed to drink anyhow. Long story.” Ooookay. That went easier than predicted. “Got any water left?”

“Yeah. By my pack.” Eddie hurries into the bunkhouse, and Steve follows. It’s the last bottle, so he hopes Robin’s busy locating fresh supplies. Though that proves the least of his worries.

Half a minute later, he’s sitting on the edge of a bunk, thigh-to-thigh with Steve. They pass the bottle of water and a bottle of beer between them.

And being this close to Steve, now Steve seems so much better? Exchanging chitchat about how long they can hideout here, and if any of them have the skills to hunt a deer or something?

It sends tingles up and down Eddie’s spine.

The way Steve looks at him underlines exactly why Steve was angry last night, when Eddie “assumed” he was straight. Eddie suddenly can’t look Steve in the eye. Trouble is, he then can’t stop staring at Steve’s mouth—those shapely, slightly chapped lips, moist and glistening with water and bad beer.

Then Steve blindsides him with: “Do you honestly think you died, Eddie? Before I did the CPR?”

“I dunno, Harrington.” Eddie squirms on his butt, all kinds of defences flying up. “It was like a dream. Apart from that, it wasn't a dream. It was a place, and Dustin was there, and Robin was there, and you were there, too.”

“Wow. Seriously?”

Eddie cackles out a mocking laugh. “I’m misquoting ‘The Wizard of Oz,’ dude.”

“Oh.” Eddie glances sidelong. Steve appears… oddly crestfallen. “It’s just… You know, I said when I get hurt, I feel like I come back different each time. I mean, I don't know if it's true or not, but... I never knew you before... and I know you now and... and…” Steve fluffs his hair. “Jesus, I’m blabbering.”

“Nah,” says Eddie. “You sound like you’re getting somewhere.” 

Compared to the meltdown my brain is having.

“Okay, well, here it is. I like you, Eddie. I really like you.” 

Eddie half wants to flee for the hills. He fixes on a beetle scuttling across the dirty floorboards. “Dude, you sure you’re not in love with Wheeler?”

“I… I… No!”  Steve doesn’t sound angry, only bewildered. “Yeah, I believed that once, and maybe I was. I guess she fitted in so many dreams I’ve had of my future, and I owe her a lot. But now I’m with you, and…” Their eyes finally meet. Steve’s earnest warmth sends a brutal shockwave through Eddie. “I know this seems fickle, but…” His gentle laugh is too much. “Who knows? Perhaps it’s because Nance has never been dead. Or, near dead. You know, we’ve gotten that in common, right?”

“Riiiiight,” Eddie says, stupidly, then, “Screw it, I like you too, Stevie. I really like you.” 

They fling their arms around each other, and tumble into the kiss.

For Eddie, the sensations are like no make-out session before, such is the hunger that zings between them. Eddie’s so blown away, that the brush of Steve’s lips seems to kindle an actual crackling, electric friction..  Damn, the boy can kiss! 

Eddie’s gotten a semi already, fingers threading up through Steve’s hair, toying at the nape of his neck. Steve does amazing twisty things with his tongue. Gnng! You wanna kill me again, Baby? Even the scrape of Steve’s shallow stubble totally unhinges him.

They work the kiss with their whole bodies, striving to get beyond close, as if they could slide beneath each other’s skin. Eddie can’t help wondering—can they get each other off, before Robin gets back?

Then something changes.

He senses Steve gasp, then moan into Eddie's mouth with something other than dumb teen passion. His arms, clinging around Eddie, falter and slip away.

“Stevie?”

Too late. Steve crumples against Eddie, totally senseless. 

“Steve?” squeaks Eddie, struggling to stop Steve slipping to the floorboards. “Robin! ROBIN!”

Part 8

tags: @estrellami-1 @kal-ology (thank you, thank you, thank you!) If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, please let me know :) Reblogs, comments and likes also very much appreciated :) Thank you for reading so far :)

(also part of my steve whump fic series on AO3)

[sabo-has-my-heart]

hiieee i LOVE ur ace stories :3 do you think you could please write an ace x gn!reader where the reader is nervous about their body image, especially when it comes to how much they eat. maybe they're jealous that ace can eat whatever he wants and still look super hot and lean. and ace reassures them that he loves them no matter how they look. thank youuu <333

I'm so glad you like my Ace stories. It's so sad that people don't have good body image, even if they're healthy or look great. That being said, I don't specify what size that they are only that they 'feel chubby' and that they're not super muscular (who is?).

Warnings: GN!Reader

Word Count:1370 

     Looking down at the food in front of you, you tried your best to hold yourself back. You’d been trying to cut back on how much you eat, tried working out to work on how you looked, but it didn’t seem to be helping much. Glancing over, you watched your boyfriend demolishing a large piece of meat, 2 helpings of pasta, a bowl of rice, and something that looked like it had once been a vegetable before Ace got to it. You, on the other hand, had barely touched the diet food you’d asked Thatch for and knew you were already gaining 10 pounds. Sometimes you hated your boyfriend, or more specifically, you hated how he could eat 50 pounds of food and come out 20 pounds lighter! His body always looked like it had been sculpted from marble, arms, chest, and abs that were to die for. Muscles that rippled and could lift just about anything, the way his body glistened with sweat under the hot sun, the light bouncing off every dip and curve of his glorious body. 

     Whereas you, on the other hand, swore you’d been a child’s clay project that had turned into the lumpy form of a human. Looking in the mirror, all you ever saw was the chub on your sides, the pudge in your stomach, and how thick your thighs were. You were strong, you knew that, you were strong and capable, perhaps not as strong as one of the division commanders, but you could certainly hold your own. At first you’d figured you just needed to work out more, after all, a lot of the well muscled guys on the Moby Dick did a lot of hard work. So you worked hard, trained… and lost 5 pounds. Alright, well maybe it was how much you ate and what you ate. Thatch was a great cook, how could you not want to eat his cooking? So you’d tried cutting back and tried dieting… you hadn’t even lost 5 pounds and were constantly hungry. How was it that Ace could eat whatever he wanted, sleep 10 hours a day, goof off, and still be shredded as fuck?! 

     Ace glanced over at you, picking at your food. You looked miserable and he knew why. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Thatch’s diet food, Thatch was a great cook, it was that you were in a slump about how you looked. Ace put on a sympathetic smile as he put a hand on your thigh, giving it a light squeeze, drawing you out of your thoughts.

     “You know, you look stunning in this light.” Ace said, nuzzling the top of your head. It was technically true, you looked stunning in the light, but then, you looked stunning in any light. Despite how you felt about your looks, he couldn’t help but think you looked like the most dazzling person on earth. Granted, even if you didn’t look great, he’d still love you, he didn’t love you for your looks, he loved you because of who you were. Your looks were just a bonus. You smiled at him, giving him a kiss on the cheek before eating your food, your mood picking up as you took his hand, holding it as you ate. Glancing back over at you, he wondered if he could get you to raid the kitchen with him. While he might know and understand how you felt about your body and weight, he missed raiding the fridge with you, missed eating everything together, and missed enjoying everything you ate together. To be completely honest, your love of food was one of the things that had first attracted him to you, you could both just sit there and enjoy what you were eating and talk about how great it was. He’d still support you if you wanted to work on your body image and do whatever he could to help, he was never worried about what you looked like. In fact, if anything, he loved the way you were. The ‘pudge’ that you worried about being on your stomach was soft, huggable and a great pillow. The thighs that you fretted were ‘too big’, allowed his fingers to sink in the perfect amount when he picked you up. The ‘chub’ on your sides that troubled you constantly was just right for cuddling at night when he’d nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck. Hell, even if you were on the chubbier side, it’s not like you were unhealthy or anything. In fact, if anything, Marco had said you were one of the healthier members of the crew.

     Ace smiled as you wrapped his arms around you from behind, his head resting on your shoulder as you two sat on his bed.

     “You’re absolutely amazing, you know that?” Ace muttered, squeezing you a little tighter. This was one of the things he loved most about your body. You couldn’t really squeeze muscles. You either held a muscular person loosely or you held them tight and couldn’t give them good, loving squeezes. With you, he could hold you close, his arms wrapped comfortably around you, not tight but not loose, but he could pull you closer, tighten his hold, and envelop you in his warm embrace.

     “I… I don’t understand how you can think that.” you said with a sigh, even as you nuzzled your head against his.

     “I think it because it’s true. You’re kind, loving, sweet, beautiful. What other word could I use for you besides ‘amazing’?” he asked, placing a soft kiss against your shoulder.

     “Chubby, overweight, plump, gluttono-ow!” you glared at him, as he pinched your arm.

     “First of all, you’re none of those things! Just because you’re not particularly muscular, doesn’t mean you aren’t the most attractive person on the planet. Secondly, you’re not chubby or anything, you’re perfect. And thirdly! Even if you were those things, I didn’t start loving you and dating you because of your looks! I love you no matter what you look like.” Ace said sternly, putting a hand on your cheek and making you face him, “I’ll always love you for you, for your heart. You could become the most hideous, fattest person on the planet and I’d still love you and think you were amazing. So stop saying that shit and come raid the kitchen with me.” he said, giving you a sweet, gentle kiss. You couldn’t help but smile at him as you nodded. To be honest, you were still pretty hungry and you hadn’t raided the kitchen together in quite a while.

[tax--payer]

Top 15 Things to Spruce Up Your Girl-Nest

By Amelia Earheart

and the Coconut Crabs

1, Sticks: What’s a Girl nest without its main component, the nest! While sticks are the standard, you can also use other thin, twig-like things to build up the structure of your nest, such as femur bones or plastic chair legs. Though sticks are the most accessible and are best for beginner Girls. 2, Glitter: If your prey doesn’t get covered in small shiny particles while you prepare them, what’s the point of having a Girl nest at all? You can go wild with variety with this one too, there are billions of shapes and colors of glitter waiting to be discovered by the next researcher. 3, Spider Silk: Any great Girl nest needs some webbing! From active spiderwebs, to cobwebs, to those little lego spiderwebs, the world is in your hands with this one, personally I like to use the orange cotton fake webs you can get at stores near halloween. 4, Work Desk Covered in Various Mechanical Parts: A Girl’s needs to work, doesn’t she?

5, Sleeping Rock: Every Girl’s gotta sleep, what place better than a good old fashioned sleeping rock. Whether you want to go gleeby deeby on a comfy slab of quartz, relax on the classic granite, or take a Girl-nap on some ever shifting limestone, the world is your oyster. 6, Bones: The perfect way to show off to any visiting Girl’s or creatures! Every bone tells a story, usually a story about how you destroyed some sort of bone having thing for food and/or funsies! 7, Heap of Papers of Unclear Contents: Humanity’s scientific progress is centuries behind an average research type Girl’s knowledge base. One day they may even crack the code to unlock the wicked blast ability. Make sure your heap is put together in a way that only you understand the order of things. 8, Moss Pile: The perfect pile for squorshing and attracting new friends! Comes in many varieties to match the choses aesthetic of your Girl nest. Sheet moss is great for beginners and can be combined with your sleeping rock for some extra creature bonus. 9, Big Mushroom: Usually mushrooms appear in Girl nests often due to their dark, cold, and damp nature, but if you want to really show off you gotta grow some huge fungi. You can help this process along by leaving a pile of discarded food/friends in the desired location. 10, Pipe Bomb: A standard type self defense item carried by every Girl across the globe. It may be a good idea to keep a stockpile in your nest for security and Girl type parties. 11, Strange Unknowable Devices that Click and Chatter Without End: These will naturally appear as you progress further in your Girl type research. Where do they come from exactly? What are they made of? Are they food? Can we play toys with them? These are the questions all Girl type researchers hope to answer. 12, Girl pellets: A delicious scrumption, a delectable snack, a stupendous nosh, a jovial chow, a enticing munchie, a divine morsel, a luscious nibble, a ambrosial munch, a nectarous feast, a exquisite ration, a yummy treat. 13, Blankets: Seen as a typical Girl type garment, blankets have many uses other than clothing. They are perfect for keeping your moss pile warm during cold winter nights, and for hiding your malicious wares beneath! 14, Mysterious Goop of Unknown Origin: A classic Girl type item. 15, Skeleton Key:  A marrow white key with a skull shaped head with ever-changing grooves. Girls most frequently use it to fidget around with and to play toys. Whose skeleton will it unlock? Perhaps yours, dear reader?

[nethhiri]

Siren Charms: Chapter 10

Zoro x Siren!Reader

Warnings: none

Misconceptions

Another day of fishing turned sour as the weather quickly put an end to it. One minute it was clear and sunny, then black clouds rolled in. Somehow, it wasn't the lightning that was the most worrisome. Huge cylinders of high-velocity currents rose from the water like sea kings, twisting and turning in random movements. They threatened to ram into the ship and splinter it into oblivion. 

You observed as Luffy, Sanji, and Zoro took down the threats one after another. Perhaps your eyes lingered too long watching the veins of Zoro's neck and arms. It made your mouth water, but you shook the bloodlust off. Wanting to help too, you took to the sky. The serpents of current almost knocked you out of the sir several times, but your agility was more than enough to avoid them. You took your sword from around your waist and lashed out with it, the whip-like blades tearing through the columns of water. Darting through the twisting forms, you slayed several more before they had a chance to make it to the ship. 

The Sunny was lifted into the air by one of the watery serpents, to your amazement. Your brows furrowed as your shipmates yelled at you to come back, just before the ship took flight itself, propelled swiftly through the sky and away from the danger with some kind of jet. For a moment, you admired the ingenuity that allowed for a seafaring vessel to achieve such a feat. Then you remembered that you should be on it.

Coiling yourself like a spring, you launched yourself after the ship. Stretching your obsidian wings to their fullest span, they propelled you ever closer. Within a few wingbeats, you had caught up to the airborne vessel, waving to everyone just as Robin pulled Chopper back onto the ship. He had apparently fallen off. You felt a tinge of guilt. If you had been closer, you could have caught him. Thankfully, everyone on the ship was extremely capable of protecting each other. 

The ship landed in calm ocean with an enormous splash. You thought it would break in half from the sheer force of the impact, though clearly this ship was built differently. When the water settled, you landed soundlessly on the deck. 

"Wow! The ship can fly?" You were impressed.

"Hell yeah, little mama! I'm surprised you could keep up!" Franky flexed and struck a pose.

If he thought you were fast in the air, he should see you swim. Everyone knew mermaids were fast, but rare few knew sirens were faster. You hated comparisons to mermaids, which was partially why you preferred your winged form to your tailed one. Mermaids were so soft. Pathetic creatures really. No way to defend themselves but to plead with batting eyes. At least fish-men had teeth and claws most of the time. Still, you had a bit of a superiority complex when it came to other creatures, humans included. Mermaids held a particular place of disdain in your heart. 

"Ether, my love, did you see me? How valiantly I defended everyone?" Sanji made faux-kicking motions.

"You didn't defend shit." Zoro countered. "Luffy and I did everything."

That incited a round of bickering that went on for some time, until Nami got sick of it. 

"Would you two quit with your pissing contest?!" 

You cocked your head to the side. Their dicks weren't even out. How was this a contest of pissing? Was it about the amount? The strength of the stream? The... color?

"Nami, they're both losing. There's no piss." You slapped your hand into your other hand, like you were proud of this deduction. 

This shut them up immediately. Then they burst out laughing. You blinked, confused. Nami put her arm around your shoulders, softly patting it. She explained what the phrase meant. You still didn't quite understand but you nodded along anyway.

Later that evening, you stood out under the stars again, hungry. The boat had moved a great distance from its last location, and you weren't sure if there was a food source around. You flew to the top of the crow's nest, testing the air for anything nearby. Your legs tensed as you squatted, preparing to send you into the sky. The hairs on your skin moved slightly and you turned to see Zoro opening the hatch to the roof. You dipped your head in acknowledgement. 

Distrustful gray eyes regarded you. "Where do you suppose you're off to?"

"I... need to eat."

"You sure you aren't spying? Trying to sell us out?"

It was normal to have suspicion for someone new, and someone who ate people to boot. You couldn't blame him. "I'd be happy to stay. If you would lend some of yourself to me, that is." 

Gray eyes narrowed. "I'll pass. Carry on." But I'm watching you.