#I hope high school is going good for you!!

[seasons-of-death]

bsf!rafe and reader miss each other

warnings: angst aka the one where rafe is in the doghouse. i wanted to try and write a bit of a dual-pov situation of the time after reader ended things, it's a bit experimental for me but i hope it's still enjoyable! this might be a bit melancholic but eh (also i baked two whole pies today let's go baker era i live alone idek what to do with em)

when you were hooking up rafe, every moment without him felt empty. like he completed you. that was partially what made you continue on with him for so long; you were worried that if he wasn't in your life, you'd constantly walk around with this hole in your chest, like a part of you was missing.

but you found that after you ended things, he wasn't the only thing on your mind all the time. sure, you missed him, but what you missed wasn't the sex, or even the almost-romantic part of your relationship, but his friendship. you missed the boy you told all your secrets to, the one who'd been your shoulder to cry on for as long as you could remember. but a part of you wasn't completely sure if that boy even existed anymore.

you knew that the boy who'd passed notes with you all throughout your middle school and high school years wouldn't do what he did to you. or the boy who let you stay at his house whenever your parents argued, and stay up with you trying to comfort you.

when you had been involved with him, you never told anyone; when your friends asked you where you always disappeared off to, you said you were just 'meeting up with a guy' and none of them really cared enough to pry, and only after did it end did you realize how shallow most of your friendships felt. none of them even noticed when you'd shut yourself away, or the fact that you started to distance yourself from everyone.

except for one.

one friday evening, the doorbell rang and you forced yourself to go open the door, only for it to reveal vivian, someone who you'd pretty much known since kindergarten, holding up two bottles of wine. "i'm not gonna leave before you tell me what's wrong with you." she said, and even though you knew she'd probably judge you for everything that went down, you also knew you couldn't hold onto it all.

and so the two of you ended up laying on your bed, drinking straight out of the bottle, with you recounting the whole story to her, without vivian interrupting you even once. and even though it was only one person, it made all the difference in the world.

"jesus, what a dick!" was the only thing he said when you were done, the two of you bursting into laughter.

but as time went by, you slowly started to miss him less and less, and as the marks he had littered all around your body started to fade, so did your longing for him.

sometimes you'd see him when you were out; it was mostly at the country club, or whenever one of your friends had convinced you to come to a party, and to let loose. but whenever you saw him, you never said a word to each other, you never even smiled. but for a brief moment, as you stared at one another across the room, it was as if it was just the two of you, lying on the floor of his living room, surrounded by beer bottles and used plastic cups, remnants of yet another party.

but as soon as one of you looked away, the moment faded away, like you two had never known each other. it was like he was never your first love.

and before you knew it, summer had come to an end, it had been three months since the night you ended things with him, the sky above you turning grey as you sat on the dock in front of your house with your feet in the cold water, when your phone started ringing, and for the first time in three months...

incoming call... rafe

and as you wondered what to do, a raindrop fell over the green circle displayed on your phone, as if telling you what to do, and so you took your phone into your hand, chewing on your bottom lip as you were thinking of whether to accept or decline.

to say that he wasn't good when it came to emotions and feelings would be an understatement when talking about rafe. most of the time the only thing he allowed himself to feel was anger, and so, when you walked out of the bathroom, the only thing he could do was stare at that locket, and even though he wanted to be angry, to start punching the bathroom sink until his hand broke, he couldn't. all he could do was stare at that damn locket, feeling like someone had punched all the air out of his lungs, like there just wasn't any anger left in him.

the day after you ended things with rafe, he broke up with sofia. for the next week the only thing he did was drink just to get the thoughts of you out of his head. for the week after that, all he did was think about you.

you needed your space, but he knew that every sunday you spent the afternoons playing tennis with one of your friends; so every sunday he'd drag his friends there on the premise of playing golf, just to get a glimpse of you; and unlike him, you looked fine, like nothing had ever happened between the two of you. he'd go out to any party he got wind of, just in case you showed up.

and whenever you noticed rafe's presence, when you looked straight at him, it was like the emptiness that had been in his chest since that night was slowly going away, like it was that night when you slept in his arms when he whispered "i love you." into your ear, hoping to god that you wouldn't hear, and now, the only thing he wished was for you to hear it even though he couldn't say it. but whenever you looked away from him, that emptiness came back.

rafe rarely drew anymore, not since he started working with his father, but now he found himself sketching images he had carved into his memory, ones of you sleeping in his bed, his sheets pulled up to cover your chest while your hair covered a good part of your face, ones with that look on your face when your face was flushed from alcohol when you were trying your hardest to find the words you were looking for when you were chattering about something you were passionate about.

and the next three months went in a cycle of drinking or throwing himself into the family business to forget about you, or finally giving in and thinking about you with that locket held in his large hand, and whenever he saw you, the more alright you seemed, and he kept wondering if that'd ever happen to him.

he was sitting in the office that formerly belonged to his father, his jaw clenched as he stared at your contact image, a picture of you petting a stray cat that lived around the island, obsessing over your contact something he'd been doing a lot lately, as if daring himself to call you. but before he could, he'd dropped his phone down onto the desk, rubbing his palms over his face with a deep sigh, telling himself to just focus on his work.

but rafe was drawn out of his thoughts of a familiar ringing, of one telling you that you were calling someone. and when he pulled his hands away from his eyes, they landed on his phone calling a familiar number.

and before he could hang up and pretend it never happened, the call was connected, and a soft voice on the other side simply said,

"rafe?"

[muwapsturniolo]

Hockey!matt

First post in the AU!

MATT STURNIOLO: PASSIONATE OR A HOT HEAD?

"Matthew Bernard Sturniolo, a 24-year-old triplet native to Boston Massachusetts. According to his parents, from a young age he and his youngest brother Christopher Owen Sturniolo, were always interested in sports. Seeing this, the parents decided to throw the boys in any sport they could. They started off playing for their town's soccer team, a typical thing for most kids to do. However, it seemed as if the sport wasn't enough for a young Matthew. It was too easy, he cleared all the other kids without even trying. Seeing this, his parents threw him into another sport, lacrosse. Now this held Matthew over for a long time until it became boring, he needed something more.

That's when hockey came into play, a sport most boys in Boston find solace in during the cold months. The sport seemed to be Matt's calling, the ice feeling like a second home. His talent was natural, something most people couldn't obtain no matter how much they trained. He ended up loving the sport so much, he made it his full-time career.

At age 17, he graduated high school alongside his two brothers and their childhood best friend. All four boys managed to get full-ride scholarships to Boston University, a school that had many NCAA wins, and has sent many players to the NHL. Matt took control of the Terriers by force, quickly becoming the captain when only being a freshman. Many of his former teammates and coaches had good things to say about him, but something stood out to me. That something was his anger.

"He was a hothead, always shouting and yelling at us during practice"

"There were a couple of times where he broke his stick and punched a locker after losing a game"

"I remember he argued with our coach one day. The argument was so bad, both of them just ripping into each other. It escalated so quick, one second they were shouting and the next Matt was throwing punches."

All of these are quotes by old teammates who would like to stay anonymous.

It was an evident pattern that managed to follow him to where he is now, the lucky star of the Boston Bruins. I had the specialty of sitting in on some of the practices, seeing how the men work with each other. Just like I expected, Matt was a force to be reckoned with. He yelled and berated some of his teammates, even going as far as getting into an argument with his own brother. It's hard to tell if it's just him being driven by passion, or if he simply has anger issues. I chose to go with the latter considering what I saw during the first game of the preseason.

The Bruins were losing against the New York Rangers, not that the score mattered. The preseason is mainly for the coaches to evaluate their team and see who fits where. So why was Matt Sturniolo causing fights, yelling at refs, and being an overall hothead? He resembled the Hulk, the brute green giant who was also a hothead when angry. It seems as if no matter the situation, training, preseason, or the actual NHL season, he was locked in and out for blood.

He's passionate about the sport, perhaps too passionate. Would it be his downfall? Would the Bruins let him go and leave him to reminisce about his glory days while he rots? We will have to tune in to this year's NHL season to find out."

Y/n Y/L * october 3rd, 2024

AHHHHHH A NEW TROPE/AU!!!!! I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY THIS! IF THIS IS CONFSUING IM SORRY! I TRIED TO MAKE THIS INTRO THE ARTICLE READER (AKA YOU) WROTE ABOUT MATT WHICH JUST SO HAPPENS TO BE HOW YALL MEET! I HOPE THIS GIVES A GOOD BACKGROUND! I PLAN ON DOING FICS FOR THIS AU BUT IM ALSO WILLING TO DO BLURBS JUST HOW I DID FOR BUNNY!READER!!!

LET ME KNOW WHAT YALL THINK!!

[lurkingshan]

hi!! i was wondering if you could recommend some good high school japanese (or from other countries) bls? all this time i avoided them cause i felt old and uncomfortable but yesterday i finally watched one and the pureness and warmth of these sweet kids experiencing their first love really warmed my heart and brought back memories of my own first crushes. thank u in advance and I hope u have a wonderful day!

Hi anon! I firmly believe we are never too old to be swept away by the nostalgia of a good high school show. There are specific emotional buttons that get engaged by a coming of age or first love story, and it's comforting to see both reflections of experiences that were similar to our own and fantasy versions of a high school experience we never got to have. I support you venturing into high school bl!

This is not a comprehensive overview of all bls with high school age characters, but a solid list of great shows that center that high school coming of age/first love experience in their stories, in a mix of moods and tones. I'll start with some favorites from Japan, and then include a few from other countries, as well. I hope you like some of these!

Japan

I Cannot Reach You

This is a classic friends to lovers first love story done exactly right. I don't know anyone who watched it only once, it's so satisfying.

If It's With You

A boy who is jaded before his time meets an earnest hottie when he moves to a new town and school. Feelings ensue.

My Love Mix Up

This one puts the com in romcom, with a confused bisexual chaos muffin setting off a comedy of errors as he tries to figure out who actually likes who among his classmates.

Takara-kun to Amagi-kun

A simple story of two boys trying to navigate their first relationship and figuring out how to go about dating and interacting at school.

Eternal Yesterday

On the tragic end, this is a story of first love that ends abruptly due to accidental death. The story is an exploration of the grief and stunted growth that results when someone so young suffers a loss so monumental. It's an absolutely beautiful show, but not a light watch.

Philippines

Marahuyo Project

This is a gorgeous show about a brash and loud and proud gay kid who gets sent to live on a small island after an incident at school, and decides to create an LGBTQ+ club at his new school. This one has a social education agenda, but it's also very funny and sweet.

South Korea

Light on Me

The story of a confident gay boy and his love triangle where you will actually like everyone involved! A rare gem in these drama streets.

Where Your Eyes Linger

And on the angstier side, this one is the story of two friends, one of whom has been raised to be a caretaker/bodyguard for the other, struggling with a realization of feelings between them. The power dynamic and social class divide between them feature heavily.

Taiwan

History 3: Make Our Days Count

Possibly a controversial pick, as this one has a tragic ending that is hard for a lot of people to stomach. But it's a great high school show that includes two first love stories, one between a beautiful himbo and the studious boy who catches his eye, and the other between his very sweet best friend and an older man he meets through his job.

About Youth

This first love story between two very nice boys struggling with school and family issues manages to be incredibly sweet while also dealing with some heavy topics, and features a couple amazing original songs that still get stuck in my head all the time.

The On1y One

This is such a pitch perfect high school story that I'm putting it on this list before it technically finishes airing. Two high school boys meet when their parents move in together and decide to get married, and begin to heal each other. This one nails the angst and yearning.

Thailand

My School President

Possibly one of the cutest high school romcoms of all time, and it features a student band so there are a ton of original songs. This is a story about a boy who runs for class president just so he can save his crush's music club. It's two nice boys who like each other and the shenanigans they get up to with their friends.

I Told Sunset About You

And for the completely opposite experience: the ultimate angsty coming of age queer awakening story. One of the most beautiful dramas I have ever seen, and so evocative and emotionally resonant that it is actually hard for some people to watch because it's too real.

[engeorged]

Harry's Stag - Part One

As I stepped out of the taxi, the cool Amsterdam air washed over me, and I couldn’t help but smile. The canals, the narrow streets, the lively hum of the city—it was just what I needed. A lads’ weekend with my best mates, a chance to unwind before I marry the man of my dreams.

I glanced at the guys, a wave of affection washing over me. Jim and I had been mates since we were kids, practically growing up together. Tall, lean, with that rugged, outdoorsy vibe and piercing blue eyes that seemed to cut through any nonsense, Jim was the steady one—the rock who always kept us grounded.

Banning and Noel came into our lives during university when we all played rugby together. Banning, with his quiet confidence and sharp mind, was always thinking a few steps ahead. He had this knack for coming up with a plan, making sure we stayed out of trouble and found our way home in one piece. Then there’s Noel—scruffy, blonde, and a bit shorter than the rest of us, but with a cheeky grin that could charm his way out of any mess he managed to get himself into. He was the joker of the group, ensuring we were never bored.

And then there’s me, Harry, the soon-to-be groom, the guy who’s somehow managed to land the most amazing man in the world. Jason is everything I’ve ever wanted—6’5, blonde, and brilliant, working in finance but with a heart of gold. He’s got this mix of confidence and kindness that makes me fall for him all over again every time I see him. I’m the luckiest guy on the planet, and I know it.

But right now, all I want is to forget about the wedding planning and just enjoy this weekend with the guys. We’ve been through so much together—high school dramas, university antics, and everything life has thrown at us since. This weekend is our chance to let loose, to celebrate before everything changes.

The morning light filtered through the curtains as I woke up, feeling the familiar buzz of excitement. Today was going to be one for the books. After a quick shower, I headed downstairs with the guys to tackle the hotel’s breakfast buffet. I’d always seen buffets as a bit of a challenge—something I’d perfected during our rugby trips in uni when the lads and I would try to outdo each other with how much we could eat.

The spread was impressive: stacks of pancakes, sizzling sausages, crispy bacon, eggs done every way imaginable, and fresh pastries that looked like they’d come straight out of a bakery. My stomach growled in anticipation, and I grabbed a plate, ready to dive in.

Jim, always the early riser, was already at the buffet, piling food onto his plate. “Morning, mate,” he said with a grin. “Hope you’re hungry.”

“You know me,” I replied, grabbing a bit of everything and then some. “Never one to turn down a good breakfast.”

We settled at a table, and I started working through my plate, enjoying the food and the banter. Before I could even make a dent in my meal, Noel appeared with a plate stacked high with more food. “Mate, you’ve got to try these pancakes,” he said, dropping them onto my plate without waiting for a reply.

I laughed, not thinking much of it. “Alright, alright, keep them coming.”

Banning, ever the strategist, chimed in as he sat down. “You’re missing out on the scrambled eggs. Here, have some more,” he said, adding a generous portion to my plate.

As we ate, the conversation flowed, and I found myself reminiscing about our old rugby trips. “Remember that all-you-can-eat steakhouse in Leeds?” I asked, chuckling. “I think I put away enough to feed a small army that night.”

Jim nodded, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Yeah, and you still managed to play the next day. You’ve always had a hollow leg when it comes to food.”

They kept the food coming, and I kept eating, not really noticing how often one of them would toss something extra onto my plate. I was too caught up in the nostalgia, the friendly competition from our uni days, and the general excitement of the weekend.

But as I started on my third plate, I felt a familiar tightness in my stomach. The kind that crept in during those old eating challenges when I’d push myself just a bit too far. My belly was starting to feel heavy, the waistband of my jeans pressing uncomfortably against my skin. I shifted in my seat, trying to ease the growing discomfort.

Still, I wasn’t one to back down from a challenge—even a self-imposed one. I kept eating, even as my stomach began to bloat, pushing out slightly against my shirt. Each bite was a little slower, the food sitting heavily in my gut. I could feel my belly rounding out, the once-flat surface curving just a bit more with each mouthful.

“Feeling full yet?” Jim asked an innocent enough question, but there was a twinkle in his eye.

“A bit,” I admitted, patting my stomach, which was now firm and slightly swollen. “But you know me—never one to quit while I’m ahead.”

The guys exchanged quick glances, subtle but not lost on me. I shrugged it off, thinking they were just reminiscing about old times like I was. But deep down, I had a nagging feeling that they were up to something. Still, I was too focused on the food and the fun to really care.

As I polished off the last of my pancakes, the tightness in my belly became more pronounced. I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my slightly rounded stomach, feeling the pressure building inside. Regret started to creep in—a familiar sensation from those rugby days when I’d pushed my limits a bit too far. My shirt stretched a little tighter across my middle, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I should’ve shown some restraint.

But then I caught myself. I’d eaten way more than this before, especially during those wild university days. This was nothing compared to some of the eating challenges I’d taken on—and won. A bit of bloat wasn’t going to slow me down. I could handle it, no problem.

With that in mind, I shrugged off the discomfort. It was just breakfast, after all, and we had a whole day ahead of us. “Right, lads,” I said, standing up and stretching, trying to shake off the heaviness in my gut. “What’s next on the agenda?”

Jim clapped me on the back, and I could feel the tension in my overstuffed stomach as he did. “Let’s head out and explore, mate. We’ve got a full day ahead of us.”

I nodded, determined to push through the fullness. I reminded myself that this was all part of the fun, and I could definitely handle more. With one last glance at the table, I followed the guys out the door, ready to see what the day had in store.

As we headed out into the bustling streets of Amsterdam, the food still sitting heavily in my stomach, I told myself I was just being paranoid. These guys were my best friends—they wouldn’t pull anything on me, especially not right before my wedding.

After finishing breakfast, we decided to take in some of the sights. Amsterdam was a beautiful city, and I was excited to explore it with my best mates. The weather was perfect—clear skies and a gentle breeze, making it an ideal day for wandering around.

We started by visiting some of the city's iconic spots, like the Anne Frank House and the Van Gogh Museum. But as we strolled along the canals and through the narrow streets, I could feel the heaviness in my belly from the massive breakfast easing a bit. By late morning, we found ourselves at one of the bustling local markets. The place was alive with vibrant colours, delicious smells, and the chatter of vendors selling everything from fresh produce to local delicacies. It was the kind of place where you could easily lose track of time, wandering from stall to stall, sampling the best that Amsterdam had to offer.

"Harry, check this out!" Banning called out, waving me over to a stall where a vendor was selling fresh stroopwafels, still warm from the griddle. He handed me one, and before I could even think about whether I was hungry, I found myself biting into the sweet, caramel-filled treat. It was delicious, the perfect balance of chewy and crunchy, and despite the fullness I still felt, I had to admit it was hard to resist.

"How about some cheese?" Noel chimed in, appearing beside me with a small platter of local Dutch cheeses. He popped a piece into my mouth before I could protest, grinning as I chewed. The rich, creamy flavours melted on my tongue, and I couldn’t help but smile at how good it tasted.

As we moved through the market, the guys made sure I didn’t miss a thing. Every few steps, they’d find something new for me to try—a slice of fresh apple pie here, a handful of chocolate-covered nuts there. They seemed to be in a competition to see who could find the most delicious treats, and I was the unwitting contestant.

“Harry, you’ve got to try these!” Jim called out, holding up a tray of poffertjes, tiny Dutch pancakes dusted with powdered sugar. He handed me the tray, and before I knew it, I was popping the fluffy little pancakes into my mouth, one after another.

With each bite, my belly grew heavier, the tightness from breakfast now back and mixed with the new wave of food. But the guys kept bringing me more, their excitement and enthusiasm contagious. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, watching as I dutifully sampled everything they put in front of me.

At one point, I realised I was starting to feel a bit overwhelmed by it all. “Guys, I think I’m good for now,” I said, laughing nervously as I held up a hand to stop another treat from making its way into my mouth.

“Fuck that!” Banning said, laughing. “We’re just getting started. You’ve got to experience everything, mate!”

Despite my growing discomfort, I couldn’t help but go along with it. After all, this was supposed to be a weekend of indulgence, and I didn’t want to be the one to spoil the fun. So I kept eating, letting the guys guide me from stall to stall, each new bite adding to the growing pressure in my belly.

By the time we were ready to leave the market, I could barely keep track of everything I’d eaten. My stomach felt impossibly full, a heavy, warm weight pressing against my waistband. As we walked away, I noticed the guys exchanging amused glances, but they didn’t say anything, and I didn’t push it.

As we left the market, I was feeling stuffed from all the sampling, but the guys weren't done with me yet. Just as we were about to head back towards the city centre, Banning spotted a stall selling fresh pastries. The aroma of warm, buttery dough filled the air, making my mouth water despite the heaviness already sitting in my gut.

“Hold up, lads,” Banning said, veering off toward the stall. “We can’t leave without taking some of these with us!”

Before I could protest, he was at the counter, ordering a large bag of assorted pastries—croissants, danishes, and something that looked like a massive cinnamon roll, all warm and fresh from the oven.

“Here you go, Harry,” he said, shoving the bag into my hands with a grin. “Something to snack on as we walk.”

I chuckled, trying to hide my unease at the thought of eating anything more. “You sure you guys don’t want to share these?”

“Oh, we’ll help,” Jim said, but I noticed the sly smile on his face. “But you’ve got to lead the charge, mate. You’re the groom, after all.”

With no real way to refuse without seeming like a party pooper, I sighed and reached into the bag. The croissant I pulled out was soft and flaky, practically melting in my hands. I took a bite, the buttery richness spreading across my tongue, and I had to admit—it was damn good.

As we walked, I found myself nibbling on the pastries, more out of habit than hunger. The guys encouraged me with every bite, grabbing a pastry here and there, but always making sure the majority of them ended up in my hands.

By the time we reached our next destination, the bag was nearly empty, and I felt like I was carrying a lead weight in my belly. The waistband of my jeans was digging into my skin, and I subtly tried to adjust it to relieve some of the pressure. The guys, of course, were loving every minute of it, exchanging knowing looks as I dutifully finished off the last pastry. 

I couldn’t shake the feeling that they were up to something, but for now, all I could focus on was the heavy, bloated sensation in my gut. It was hard to believe I could still stand, let alone keep eating, but with the lads around, I knew there was no way I’d get out of it. 

After leaving the market with my belly full of pastries, we found ourselves wandering through the winding streets of Amsterdam again. The city was buzzing with life, tourists mingling with locals, and the smell of food and drink filled the air. My stomach was still groaning from all the food I'd packed into it, but when the guys suggested stopping for some beers, I figured it might help take the edge off.

“Let’s hit up a few local breweries,” Jim suggested, his eyes lighting up. “We can’t leave Amsterdam without trying some of the best beer in the world.”

I agreed, hoping that a few drinks might dull the ache in my overstuffed belly. The first brewery we hit was small and cosy, with wooden tables and an impressive selection of local brews. The guys ordered a round of pints, and I gladly accepted mine, taking a long, deep sip. The cold, bitter beer slid down my throat, and I could feel it spreading warmth through my chest.

The first pint went down easily, and for a moment, I almost forgot how full I was. The alcohol worked its magic, numbing the uncomfortable pressure in my stomach. The guys were in high spirits, laughing and joking as we finished our beers and moved on to the next brewery.

By the time we reached the third stop, I was starting to feel a bit more relaxed. The bloated sensation in my gut was still there, but the beer had taken the edge off. Each point seemed to settle on top of the food in my belly, adding to the warm, fuzzy feeling spreading through my body.

The guys were keeping pace with me, ordering pints at each stop and making sure I always had one in my hand. I knew I should slow down, but the alcohol was doing its job, and I found myself caring less and less about how full I was. Instead, I focused on enjoying the moment, the camaraderie, and the laughter of my best friends.

At the fifth brewery, the drinks started to catch up with me. My head was buzzing, and the bloated feeling in my stomach was returning, more pronounced than before. I tried to keep up with the guys, but I could feel my belly straining against the waistband of my jeans, each sip of beer adding to the swelling pressure.

I glanced down at my gut, now noticeably rounder and heavier than it had been earlier in the day. The fullness was almost overwhelming, but the beers had numbed me enough that I could push through it, at least for a while longer.

Jim noticed me looking at my stomach and clapped me on the back. “You alright, mate? You’re keeping up like a champ!”

I managed a grin, even though I could feel the tightness in my belly with every breath. “Yeah, just feeling it a bit,” I admitted.

“Don’t worry, we’re almost done with the tour,” Noel said, raising his glass. “Just a couple more, and then we can grab some food to soak it all up.”

The mention of food made my stomach churn, but I pushed the thought aside and lifted my pint in a toast. As we moved on to the final stop, I could feel the beers sloshing around inside me, mingling with the pastries and everything else I’d consumed that day. 

But the guys were right—the beers had dulled the ache, at least for now, and I was too buzzed to care about what might come next.

By the time we reached the final brewery on our tour, my belly had become an undeniable presence—both to me and, I suspected, to anyone who glanced in my direction. It felt like a boulder, heavy and firm, pressing outwards against the fabric of my shirt. The once-flat surface was now a taut, rounded dome, the skin stretched tight and smooth. Every step I took made it sway slightly, a reminder of just how much I’d eaten.

I rubbed my swollen middle, trying to ease the growing pressure. Suddenly, a deep belch forced its way up, loud and unexpected. The guys turned, grinning, and immediately erupted into cheers.

“There he is!” Noel laughed, clapping me on the back, which only made my belly slosh uncomfortably. “That’s the spirit, mate!”

Another belch rumbled up, and this time I didn’t even try to hold it back. The guys whooped and cheered even louder, egging me on as I laughed along with them.

“Keep ‘em coming!” Banning shouted, raising his pint in a mock toast.

I shook my head, grinning as yet another burp escaped me. The relief was temporary, though, as the pressure inside me continued to build. Every step made my belly jiggle slightly, and I could feel just how bloated I was becoming. The gas from all that beer wasn’t helping, either, making me feel even more stuffed than I already was.

I couldn’t help but enjoy the moment. The lads were loving it, and there was something satisfying about knowing I could still outdo them, just like in the old days. Even if my stomach felt like it was about to burst, the cheers and laughter made it all worth it.

Despite the discomfort, there was a part of me that was fascinated by how much my body had changed in just a few short hours. My normally lean frame had been overtaken by this massive, swollen belly, and I couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer volume I’d managed to pack away.

The guys noticed, too. I caught Banning’s eye as he glanced at my gut, and he grinned, clearly impressed. “That’s one hell of a belly, Harry,” he said, his voice full of admiration. “You’ve really outdone yourself today.”

Jim nodded in agreement, raising his pint in a toast. “To Harry’s belly,” he said with a laugh. “May it keep growing!”

The others joined in, their laughter filling the air as I gave a half-hearted chuckle. I could feel my stomach stretching even more as I took another sip of beer, the pressure building to a point that was almost unbearable.

As we finished our drinks, I leaned back in my chair, trying to find some relief from the tightness. My belly was now a prominent, round sphere, pressing outwards with a fullness that I couldn’t ignore. It was a strange mix of discomfort and pride—I’d never seen myself like this before, and despite the ache, there was something almost amusing about the sheer size of my belly.

By early afternoon, I was starting to feel the effects of our beer-filled morning. My head was buzzing pleasantly, and my steps were just a bit slower as we made our way through the bustling streets. I was thinking about suggesting a quick stop back at the hotel to freshen up, but before I could, Noel was already leading us toward our next destination.

“We’ve got a special lunch spot lined up, Harry,” he said, slinging an arm around my shoulders. “Proper local place. None of that touristy crap.”

I was too relaxed to argue, letting him steer me down a side street and into a large, rustic-looking restaurant. The inside was all dark wood and heavy beams, with long communal tables and the rich smell of roasting meat filling the air. My stomach rumbled in spite of the heaviness I was already feeling, and I figured a good meal might help soak up some of the beer.

We found a spot at the end of one of the tables, and Noel didn’t even bother with menus. “We’ll take four of your specials,” he told the waitress with a wink, and she nodded, jotting it down before disappearing into the kitchen.

I leaned back in my chair, glancing around at the other diners. Most of them were locals, digging into plates piled high with food, glasses of cider clinking together in toasts. It was lively, warm, and exactly the kind of place that made you feel at home, even halfway across the world.

“So, what’s the special?” I asked, eyeing Noel suspiciously.

“Wait and see,” he grinned, taking a long pull from the glass of cider that had just been set in front of him. “You’re gonna love it.”

Moments later, the food arrived, and my eyes widened as the waitress set a huge platter in front of each of us. There, in the centre, was a whole roasted chicken, crispy and golden, surrounded by a mountain of fresh bread and a full litre of cider.

“Bloody hell,” I muttered, staring at the feast. It looked incredible, but there was no way I could finish all that. “You guys trying to kill me?”

Banning smirked, already tearing into his bread. “Consider it a challenge.”

“Come on, Harry,” Jim chimed in, pulling a hunk of chicken off the bone. “You said you were hungry this morning.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t mean all day,” I laughed, even as I reached for my fork. The smell of the roasted chicken was too tempting to resist, and I figured I could at least make a dent in it.

We dug in, the conversation flowing easily between bites of juicy chicken and sips of the strong, dry cider. The bread was warm and crusty, perfect for soaking up the rich drippings from the chicken, and despite my full stomach, I found myself going back for more, over and over.

The guys were relentless, though, nudging the bread my way whenever I slowed down, refilling my cider glass before I’d even finished it. Every time I thought I was done, Jim would carve off another piece of chicken and drop it onto my plate, or Noel would push the bread basket back toward me with a grin.

“You’ve got to try this with the cider,” Noel insisted, handing me a slice of bread slathered in the drippings. “Trust me, it’s worth it.”

I took the bread, biting into it with a mix of enjoyment and trepidation. It was delicious, of course, but I was starting to reach the point where every bite felt like a struggle. My stomach was stretched tight, the combination of beer, cider, and food weighing me down.

But there was something infectious about their enthusiasm, the way they kept the mood light and fun, and I couldn’t bring myself to say no. These were my best mates, and they were making sure I had the time of my life. What was a little discomfort in the grand scheme of things?

“Only the best for you,” Noel added with a wink, though there was a glint in his eye that made me wonder just how much more they had planned for me.

After finishing the meal, I leaned back in my chair, feeling utterly stuffed. My usually firm belly was now uncomfortably stretched, the tightness pressing against my shirt. The button on my jeans felt like it was about to pop, and I had to loosen my belt a notch to alleviate some of the pressure.

The full feeling wasn’t just in my stomach but seemed to radiate through my entire body. Every bite of the juicy chicken and every piece of bread had added to the bloated sensation, and the cider had only intensified it. My stomach was protruding noticeably, an unfamiliar softness replacing the tight abs I’d worked so hard to maintain. It felt heavy, like a weight pressing down from within.

I looked around at my friends, trying to ignore the discomfort, but the sight of their grins and the way they patted their own full bellies didn’t help. “I think I might have overdone it,” I admitted with a chuckle, rubbing my distended stomach.

“No way, mate,” Jim said, giving me a friendly thump on the back. “You’re just getting into the spirit of things.”

“Yeah, you’ve got to stay in top form,” Noel added, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “You don’t want to be the one to miss out.”

Despite the lighthearted teasing, I could barely move, feeling the fullness with every breath. I glanced down at my bulging belly, the fabric of my shirt straining against the roundness. It was a far cry from the trim figure I was used to seeing.

As we finally left the restaurant, I had to walk slowly, my steps deliberate and careful. Each movement reminded me of just how much I’d eaten, and I knew that if I didn’t get some relief soon, the discomfort would only grow. But with the guys still in high spirits, I knew the day was far from over, and whatever they had planned next, I’d have to muster the energy to keep up.

As we left the restaurant, the afternoon started to blur together. The combination of food and cider had left me pleasantly tipsy, and the usual sharpness of my thoughts had softened. My bloated stomach felt heavy, but the excitement of the city kept me moving, albeit at a slower pace.

After the epic lunch, I was convinced I couldn't possibly eat another bite. My stomach was so full and bloated that it felt like a lead weight was strapped to me, each step making my distended gut jiggle slightly under my shirt.

We started walking again, heading toward the canals for a leisurely afternoon tour. The sun was shining, reflecting off the water as we strolled along the cobblestone streets. I tried to focus on the sights—the charming, narrow buildings, the boats gliding by—but the heavy, stuffed feeling in my gut was impossible to ignore. Every step made me acutely aware of just how much space my belly was taking up, stretching my shirt tight across the firm, rounded expanse.

We hadn’t gone far before we passed a street vendor selling fresh Bitterballen. The savoury aroma of deep-fried goodness filled the air, making my stomach rumble despite the fullness. Bitterballen are traditional Dutch snacks, deep-fried balls filled with a rich, creamy beef or veal ragout, crispy on the outside and soft on the inside. They’re often enjoyed with a dollop of mustard.

Noel, ever the enthusiast, was already haggling with the vendor before I could even process what was happening. “Harry’s got to try these!” he said, handing over a few euros and grabbing a serving of the hot, golden balls.

“Mate, I’m so full I can barely move,” I protested weakly, but Noel just grinned and handed me a paper cone filled with Bitterballen.

“Come on, you’ve got room for one more,” he said, winking. “It’s part of the experience.”

I took the cone and popped one of the Bitterballen into my mouth. The crispy exterior gave way to a rich, creamy filling that was both indulgent and comforting. Despite the tightness in my belly, the flavour was irresistible. With each bite, I could feel the food settling heavily on top of everything else I’d eaten, adding to the relentless pressure in my gut.

We continued along the canal, and it wasn’t long before Jim spotted another vendor—this time selling churros dusted with cinnamon sugar. He practically sprinted over, eager to buy a bag for me before Banning could get there first.

“Here you go, Harry,” Jim said, thrusting the warm bag into my hands. “You’ve got to keep your energy up!”

I stared at the churros, my stomach groaning in protest at the mere thought of eating more. But the guys were watching me expectantly, their excitement palpable. I couldn’t let them down, so I forced myself to take a bite.

The churro was crisp on the outside, soft on the inside, and coated with just the right amount of cinnamon sugar. It was delicious, but as I swallowed, I felt my belly swell even more, the tightness becoming almost unbearable. Each bite seemed to expand my gut further, stretching the skin to its limits.

“Harry, you’re a machine!” Banning laughed, clapping me on the back as I forced down the last of the churros. “I don’t know how you’re doing it.”

Neither did I. My stomach was now so full that it was starting to feel rock-hard, a firm, rounded dome that pushed out from under my shirt with every breath. The waistband of my jeans was cutting painfully into my sides, and I could feel my skin pulling tight over the swollen mass of my belly. I wanted to stop, to sit down and let my overstuffed gut settle, but the guys weren’t having any of it.

We passed another vendor, this one selling warm, cheesy croquettes, and before I could even protest, Banning had bought a handful and was offering them to me.

“Last ones, I promise,” he said with a mischievous grin, though I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was far from finished.

I took one, biting into the crispy, gooey centre, and immediately felt another surge of fullness. My stomach was now a tight, distended ball, and each bite made it feel like I was stretching it to the breaking point. But the guys kept egging me on, practically shoving the croquettes into my hands as we walked.

By the time we finally finished the canal tour, my belly was truly enormous—a swollen, overfilled sphere that jutted out in front of me, heavy and round. The tightness was almost unbearable, and I could barely stand up straight, the weight of my gut pulling me forward with every step. 

And yet, despite it all, I couldn’t help but laugh along with the guys, the absurdity of the situation hitting me. My friends were practically fighting over who got to feed me next, and I was helpless to stop them. My once-lean frame had been transformed into something out of a cartoon, my shirt now riding up to expose the pale, stretched skin of my bloated belly.

As we headed back toward the city centre, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was far from over. The day was still young, and the guys seemed determined to see just how much more they could cram into me. And as much as I wanted to protest, I knew deep down that I wasn’t going to stop them.

By the time the afternoon sun started to dip, I was struggling. Every step felt like a monumental effort, the heavy, swollen mass of my belly swaying in front of me, throwing off my balance. It had gone from feeling full and stretched to being outright painful, a tight, solid ball that was almost too much to bear. The guys were still in high spirits, laughing and joking as we walked, but I was finding it hard to keep up. 

"Guys," I groaned, finally coming to a stop and placing a hand on my distended gut. "I need a break. Can we head back to the hotel for a bit? Just a quick snooze, let my stomach settle."

I was expecting some pushback, but surprisingly, they all nodded in agreement. Maybe they could see the strain on my face, or maybe they were just ready for a break too. Either way, we turned in the direction of the hotel, and I started to imagine the sweet relief of lying down and letting my poor, overworked belly rest.

But of course, it wasn’t going to be that simple.

As we rounded a corner, we passed a small, bustling shop with a line of people snaking out the door. The smell of fried potatoes and various toppings filled the air, and Jim’s eyes lit up when he spotted the sign.

“Wait a second,” he said, grabbing my arm and pointing toward the shop. “This is the place I’ve been telling you about! They make these famous fries with all sorts of toppings. We’ve got to try it.”

I felt a knot of dread tighten in my already cramped stomach. “Jim, I’m seriously about to burst here. I don’t think I can fit anything else in.”

But Jim wasn’t having it. “Come on, Harry, you can’t come all the way to Amsterdam and not try this. It’s part of the experience! We’ll just get one big platter to share, no big deal.”

Banning and Noel were already nodding along enthusiastically, and before I could argue any further, they were steering me toward the door. Inside, the place was a fry-lover’s paradise—massive trays of golden fries, each topped with a ridiculous amount of extras, from melted cheese to pulled pork, jalapeños, and creamy sauces.

We ordered the biggest platter they had, a monstrosity as wide as the table itself, piled high with fries and every topping imaginable. It was the sort of thing meant for a group of a dozen, not four guys who had already been eating all day. The sight of it alone made my stomach lurch in protest.

I tried to push back. “Guys, seriously, this is insane. I can’t eat all this.”

But Banning grinned at me, eyes twinkling with mischief. “We’ll help, don’t worry. But you’ve got to at least give it a shot, Harry. Think of it as a challenge.”

I knew there was no way out, not with all three of them looking at me like that. So, with a resigned sigh, I picked up a fork and dug in.

The first few bites were delicious, the crispy fries and rich toppings a perfect combination. But with every mouthful, I could feel my stomach stretching further, pushing against my waistband and straining the limits of my shirt. The tightness that had been a constant presence all day was now bordering on unbearable, a pressure that made it hard to focus on anything other than the sheer fullness of my gut.

Still, the guys kept urging me on, and somehow, I kept going. They were making a show of eating their share, but it was clear that most of the food was ending up in front of me. Every time I slowed down, they’d shove another forkful of loaded fries in my direction, laughing and cheering me on like it was some sort of competition.

“Harry’s taking the lead!” Noel shouted at one point, and the others whooped in agreement. 

I felt like I was in a daze, barely able to comprehend what I was doing as I continued to eat. My belly was now so bloated that it was pressing against the edge of the table, a round, firm dome that seemed to be growing larger with each bite. My shirt was stretched tight across the distended curve of my gut, and I could feel the seams straining with every breath.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I dropped my fork, unable to eat another bite. The platter was mostly empty, but my stomach felt like it was about to burst. I leaned back in my chair, groaning as the pressure in my belly intensified. It was a strange mix of pain and satisfaction, the kind of fullness that made it impossible to do anything but sit there and let my body digest.

The guys, of course, were loving it. They were all grins and high-fives, clearly proud of themselves for pushing me to this point.

“You’re a legend, Harry,” Banning said, clapping me on the back with a laugh. “I don’t know how you did it.”

I didn’t either. All I knew was that my belly was now so swollen and distended that I could barely move. It jutted out in front of me like a solid, round ball, the skin stretched tight and smooth over the massive bulge. I could feel every inch of it, the fullness pressing down on my lungs and making it hard to breathe, let alone think.

As we finally left the fry shop and started heading back to the hotel, I could barely keep up, my gait slow and awkward as I tried to accommodate the heavy mass of my gut. It felt like I was carrying a bowling ball strapped to my stomach, the weight of it pulling me forward with every step.

And yet, as uncomfortable as I was, there was a part of me that couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer size of my belly. I’d never been this full in my life, never even imagined it was possible to eat this much. It was almost impressive in a way, and despite everything, I found myself laughing along with the guys as we made our way back to the hotel.

By the time we finally made it back to the hotel, I was exhausted. My belly was so full and heavy that each step felt like a challenge, and the thought of just lying down was the only thing keeping me going. As we entered the room, the guys were still buzzing with energy, laughing and recounting the day’s events, but I could hardly focus on their words. All I could think about was getting out of my too-tight clothes and giving my aching stomach some relief.

I headed straight for the bathroom, barely pausing to acknowledge the banter going on behind me. Closing the door, I leaned against the sink for a moment, taking a deep breath as I let the tension drain from my shoulders. Then, with a grunt of discomfort, I began the laborious task of peeling off my clothes.

First, I unbuttoned my jeans, which had been digging into my sides for hours. The moment the button popped open, my belly surged forward, free from its confines at last. I couldn’t help but gasp slightly at the sensation—the relief was immediate, but the sheer weight of my gut was startling. I tugged the waistband down over my hips, letting the jeans fall to the floor, before yanking off my shirt, which had been stretched to its limits.

Once I was finally free of my clothes, I turned to face the mirror, and what I saw stopped me in my tracks. My belly—normally flat and firm—was now a completely different shape, swollen and rounded out in front of me like a tightly inflated balloon. The curve of it was almost shocking, jutting out so far that it seemed impossible it was my own body. My skin was stretched taut over the massive dome, with the light fur that usually covered my stomach now spread thin and sparse across the smooth, distended surface. 

I reached out tentatively, running a hand over the swell of my gut. It felt solid and unyielding, the kind of fullness that left no room for anything else. My fingers brushed against the fine hair that coated my belly, usually soft but now pulled taut over the curve, emphasising the tightness of my skin. The fur seemed almost out of place on such a massively bloated belly, a reminder of how much my body had changed in just a few short hours.

I took a step back, turning slightly to see my profile, and my eyes widened at the sight. The curve of my belly was even more pronounced from the side, a heavy, rounded bulge that hung low and full. It almost didn’t look real—like something out of a cartoon, exaggerated and impossible. And yet, there it was, a testament to just how much I had consumed.

I stood there for a moment, just staring at myself in the mirror. I knew I’d eaten a lot, but seeing the evidence in front of me like this was almost surreal. I couldn’t believe how much I’d managed to pack away—how much my belly had expanded to accommodate it all. I looked like I’d swallowed a beach ball whole, my normally lean frame now dominated by this massive, swollen gut.

A mix of shock and disbelief washed over me. I’d seen my belly bloated before—college eating challenges had often left me stuffed, but never like this. This was on another level entirely. I could feel the weight of it, the sheer fullness pressing down on me, making it hard to stand upright. Every movement made my gut jiggle slightly, a constant reminder of how tightly packed it was with food.

Despite the discomfort, there was something almost fascinating about it. The sight of my body so utterly transformed, my belly swollen beyond anything I’d ever thought possible, was strangely compelling. It was as if I’d crossed some invisible line, entered a new territory where my body was no longer my own but something else entirely—something massive and insatiable.

I ran my hand over the curve of my gut one more time, feeling the tightness beneath my palm, the way my skin stretched over the fullness. Then, with a deep breath, I turned away from the mirror and headed back into the room, where the guys were waiting. 

I stumbled out of the bathroom, still in a daze from the sight of my bloated belly, and made my way to the bed. My legs were heavy, my body protesting with every step as the weight of my overstuffed gut dragged me down. As soon as I reached the edge of the bed, I let myself fall backward, the mattress groaning beneath me as I sprawled out on top of the covers. The sensation of finally lying down was a relief beyond words. My belly, round and tight, stretched upward, and I could feel the strain in my skin as it tried to accommodate the ridiculous amount of food I’d packed away.

I let out a long, contented sigh, resting a hand on the taut dome of my stomach. It was firm to the touch, barely giving under the pressure of my fingers. My eyes drifted shut, and for a moment, I was lost in the sensation of being so full, so heavy, so utterly stuffed.

The sound of laughter pulled me from my reverie. The guys were still buzzing with energy, moving around the room as they started to get ready for whatever was coming next. Jim was the first to strip off his shirt, revealing a flat but slightly rounded belly—nothing compared to mine, but still showing signs of the indulgence we’d all participated in today. He patted it with a grin, turning to show it off to Banning and Noel.

"Look at this," Jim said, chuckling. "I’m usually flat as a board, but today... man, I’m starting to show a little gut. Must have been all those pastries at the market."

Banning, who was already down to his boxers, laughed and flexed his own stomach, which was a bit bloated  than usual but nowhere near as distended as mine. "Yeah, I’m feeling it too. I think I’m still carrying around half that platter of fries we demolished earlier."

Noel joined in, lifting his shirt to reveal his own slightly swollen belly. "Same here. It’s like we’ve all turned into little food balloons, but I gotta say, Harry definitely wins the prize for the biggest gut." 

They all turned to look at me, sprawled out on the bed with my massive, bloated belly on full display. The contrast between their smaller, slightly rounded stomachs and my own overstuffed gut was almost comical. I looked like I’d swallowed a whole watermelon, while they’d only nibbled on a few snacks.

Jim grinned and gave his own belly another pat. “How are you even still conscious after all that? You’ve gotta be on the verge of passing out, mate.”

I could only groan in response, too full and too tired to form a coherent reply. My belly felt like it was about to burst, every breath a reminder of how far I’d pushed myself today. But despite the discomfort, there was a strange sense of camaraderie in the room, a bond forged through our shared gluttony.

The guys continued to joke and laugh, comparing their own bellies and teasing me about mine, but I barely heard them. All I could focus on was the heavy, aching fullness that filled every inch of my midsection. I rubbed my hand over the curve of my stomach, trying to soothe the tightness, but it was no use. I was beyond stuffed, my gut stretched to its absolute limit.

Even so, as I lay there, I couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of it all. I had no idea how I’d let myself get talked into eating so much, but in some weird way, it had been worth it. The guys were having the time of their lives, and despite my current state, I couldn’t deny that a part of me was enjoying it too.

To be continued . . . .

For more of my stories click here

[starryeyedcas]

Every Destiel Fic I’ve Ever Read [WIP]

Let’s do it! I took this list directly from my twitter

I’m not really going to post my ratings and stuff and I’m not going to copy what I said verbatim because as I grow older my opinions always change and every fic deserves love regardless of what some stranger on the internet thinks! Check these out if you need something new to read :)

Also, side note: A lot of the fics I tend to read are either non-canon or pre S10. If your looking for canon type, recent fics this will not be a list for you and I apologize :(

Also pt. 2: Some of the fics that I have listed on my twitter are no longer available so I have decided to not list them here. It’s very sad because there were some really good ones! Regardless, I’m still trying to keep this list as up to date as I possibly can when it comes to my reading ventures. Either way, I hope you enjoy these fics as much as I do <3

1. NINETY ONE WHISKEY

By komodobits, 401,193 words (not counting other fics in the series)

Please, please, please! Read this if you haven’t yet!! It’s a slow burn, World War II based fic and it’s my absolute favorite fic of all time. In fact I think it may be my favorite story of all time!! I come back to this fic always. If I’m sad, I read it. If I’m happy, I read it. I’ve read it probably 4 or 5 times at this point and it always holds up. I will say though, IT WILL MAKE YOU CRY. Dean and Cas are written VERY well, in fact every character in this fic are written to perfection. You find yourself growing attachments to side characters that you may have even forgotten existed in the show. I seriously cannot recommend this one enough. You will not regret it.

2. A BRIEF GLIMPSE

By cloudyjenn, 12,356 words

I’ll be honest, this one is special for me. This was the very first Destiel fic I ever read back in 2014. That being said, I may be a little biased towards it but I do genuinely think that it’s very cute. It’s a Slice-of-Life esque story with light supernatural happenings; where Castiel is in high school and has a very big crush on his best friend, Sam Winchester. Things start to go awry when Sam invites Cas to a carnival. I won’t spoil too much though! If you want a quick read with some fluff, definitely read this one.

3. SMELLS LIKE ROSES

By unknown :(, 53,828 words

Uhoh! A Djinn fic! I remember this one just hurting me so much. Dean is living his dream life. Everything around him is perfect and he’s mysteriously very happy. When you get to the end of this fic, holy cow the heartbreak. It’s written very well, you obviously can’t go wrong with a fic that slightly follows canon. I really like this one and I might reread it again soon but I cannot stress enough how much it hurts! Stay safe out there.

4. NOT ALL THE WAY THROUGH

By Tracy, around 4,700 words

Shorter fic based around s5 episodes 3 and 4. This one is good but it’s also very painful. I think I like fics that hurt me lol. There are some warnings I want to state! This fic features substance abuse, non con, mentions of torture and A CHARACTER DEATH so please be careful! This is told through Castiel’s perspective and all the summary says is “Castiel’s new life begins and ends with Dean.” So I will leave it at that. (Also as a side note whenever I think of this fic I think of the song ‘And So it Goes’ by Billy Joel. Listen to that while reading and you are sure to shed some tears. Stay safe friends xx)

5. PAINTED ANGELS

By WinnJennster, 105,637 words

This one used to be really popular, so it’s likely many of you have already read it. Either way I will still recommend it. It’s a nice little “reunited” type fic in which Cas is an author and Dean is a painter. I will say, however, that the angst in this fic is HEAVY. Personally, I’m not huge into giant angsty fics like this, or maybe the type of angst portrayed in this one. I just remember feeling a little frustrated by it. YET, this fic has a lot of good memorable moments with some fluff sprinkled throughout. If you love angst, this is the fic for you. WARNING though, you need an AO3 account to read this fic. If you’re not already logged in, you’re out of luck.

6. TWIST AND SHOUT

By Gabriel and standbyme, 97,556 words

Who are we kidding?? Everyone on this website KNOWS this fic. You all could probably recount it backwards, forwards, sideways, upside down. Who knows. All we know is that this fic is a capital S-A-D. When I was in high school, I LOVED this fic. I adored it, no matter how much it made me cry. Because YES there is a MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. And NO it’s not FUN. Can I be honest? After rereading it, I feel as if Cas and Dean are out of character! Doesn’t mean it’s a bad story, absolutely not. It’s beautiful! I think it’s wonderful and obviously I recommend it. But you could change the names of the boys and you wouldn’t even know its based off two characters from Supernatural. This is my hill and I will gladly die on it. Read it if you dare, but remember to beware OOooOOoooOo (another side note: I had to go to the fic to get the link for this post and I swear to God my eyes watered when I read that first sentence. I HATE and I LOVE this fic all at the same time.)

7. SMOKE IN THE MIRROR

By letters_of_stars, 52,327 words

Oh shoot! Dean is an artist and he needs a nude model!! Who do you think is gonna take the bait?!?! In all seriousness though, I really adore this one. YES Castiel is nude and YES Dean is painting him but if you’re expecting smut right from the get go you are mistaken! I wanna say this is another slow burn?? But it has also been a while since I’ve read it. I just remember liking this one a lot. In my original rating, I gave it a 5/5 so that’s gotta mean something. Another little slice of life with a lot of good moments. Check it out!

8. A HOME BENEATH THE STARS

By CheshireMoon, 71,240 words

Hi, it’s me again. The girl who likes fics that rip her heart to SHREDS. I’m gonna be about as vague as can about this one because boy did that ending catch me off guard when I first read it. So Dean is homeless, right? And Cas is a kind hearted, Good Samaritan, astronomer. When the two meet Dean’s life changes… for the better… I’m gonna leave it at that. You could be ignorant like me and skip over the warnings to this fic and just leave it to good will and faith that this fic will leave you happy and giggly. Or you could do yourself a favor and know what’s coming but not know when it happens. Either way, I still recommend this one. I really like it, just make sure you have a fluff fest fic waiting for you on the other side.

9. THE FACE OF HEAVEN

By orange_crushed, 9,772 words

This one is short and so so sweet. Another type of slice-of-life where Dean is just a gay bartender living his best gay bartending life when he suddenly comes across a fallen star whose name is Castiel. It’s very unique and I love it so much. In my original opinion of this fic I said I didn’t like the formatting? And I think what I meant to say is, I don’t like reading long paragraphs but the formatting to this fic is perfectly fine lol. Still a fun little read and it’s pretty fluffy!

10. SO MUCH TANGLED THREAD

By imogenbynight, 37,428 words

Holy crap! Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES. It’s like, Ninety One Whiskey almost, except there’s time travel, and supernatural happenings, and OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS FIC. It’s ends pretty quick but it’s still so so so good. Please read it, show it some love. I think about this one from time to time and I still smile. Much like with Painted Angels, you need an account to read this one. So make sure you’re logged in! If you don’t have an account you best get that invitation fr.

11. DIAMOND STAR HALO

By had, 4,924 words

Just pure fluff told from Sam Winchester’s perspective. I kind of have a soft spot for fics told from a third party perspective because it’s like they’re seeing Dean and Cas how WE see Dean and Cas and it makes me all giddy, I dunno. This is a good short read and you should definitely read it after reading something really sad and heart wrenching!

12. CINDERWINGS

By bendingsignpost, 181,619 words

STOP!! I love this fic!! It’s a Cinderella type story, there’s a masquerade ball, Dean is a PRINCE. Very fantasy with supernatural elements. It’s WONDERFUL. The way the author writes about the world through Castiel’s perspective is super entertaining and funny and I love the misunderstandings that happen within the story. If you love fantasy and monarchy and magic and parties, this is definitely a fic for you.

13. ONE WHITE LIE

By komodobits, 11.179 words

I can’t lie, komodobits is my favorite fic author and so I am a little biased towards their stories. This one is no exception. It’s hilarious, lighthearted, and fluffy. The range that this author has with their fics amazes and horrifies me. How can one person have that much talent? I have no idea. This is just a komodobits appreciation post, you got me. Anywho, Castiel tells a small lie to the Winchester brothers and they mess with him. Not based in canon, a very slice-of-life fic. I love it, please check it out.

14. FORGET-ME-NOT BLUES

By noangelsinthegarrison, 68,689 words

Ahhh I remember this one. Another slice-of-life, have you noticed a pattern? Sam and Jess are getting married! Woohoo! Of course Dean is in the wedding but so is Castiel, someone Dean has history with……….. Basically there’s misunderstandings and mutual pining and it’s fun. It’s got all sorts of romcom elements with just a dash of angst!

15. MUSCLE MEMORY

By komodobits, 18,961 words

Give me a story that’s loosely based off of 50 First Dates and written by my favorite fic author and suddenly I’m in Heaven. I’m a really big fan of movie AU’s, especially well written and this one is no exception. It’s kind of sad though, but if you’ve seen 50 First Dates then you should expect that. Even if you aren’t a fan of movie AU’s, I would still suggest giving this one a read.

16. KIND OF A FOREVER DEAL

By komodobits, 111,460 words

STOP LOOKING AT ME. YOU THINK IM PUTTING TOO MANY FICS BY THE SAME AUTHOR HERE? WELL YOU LISTEN TO ME PAL, THIS WON’T BE THE LAST ONE EITHER!! Ahem, this fic is awesome and sort of a fan favorite already!! Slice-of-life, teenaged angst, summer camp, LoVe, it’s amazing! The way that the author wrote the friendship between Dean, Cas, Jo, and Victor has me in tears. Very wholesome and heart wrenching, highly recommend!

17. IMPERFECT PROPOSALS

By Fallen_Angel_Meg, 111,082 words

Another movie AU! This is loosely based off The Proposal and filled with fluff! You really don’t see a whole lot of crossover fics that are long like this one, but it’s fun to read and you’ll probably fly through it just like I did. Do you like The Proposal? No? Read it anyways xx

18. CHECKED OUT

By whelvenwinge, 27,127 words

Okay this one, is really good. Like really good. It comes complete with original artwork and fantastic storytelling. Castiel is a librarian and he really despises Dean Winchester, an acclaimed author. It’s sooooo good, I cannot stress enough how much I think you should read this. And you’ll get really pretty pictures to look at! The ending is great, the beginning is great, it’s just wonderful. So what are you waiting for? Run along now and read it!

19. SPECIAL INSTRUCTIONS

By habitatfordeanwinchester, 2,593

This one is just cute. It’s short and fluffy. Imagine Castiel working at a Chipotle and getting special instructions on a mobile order. Can you guess who they’re from? If you’re sad and need a pick me up, just read this one. It’s so cute!

20. C-S-T-L

By komodobits, 90,377

It has been a really long time since I read this one. But I know that I loved every second of it and I was crying during the majority of it. Either because I had just got done reading 91w or because the story itself made me emotional. Either way it’s a fantastic read! Castiel is an android and Dean is tasked with adding him to their army for the WAR. This fic has wonderful world building, really in-depth character exploration, and the ANGST. I’m probably going to read this one again sometime soon~ JOIN MEEEEE

[damianodavds]

Teacher’s Pet (A Duff McKagan FanFiction)

a/n: I originally wrote this fanfiction for another fandom which I posted and then deleted in 2020. I am the original writer of this storyline, this is my idea. This story has been re-written and edited. I am sharing this story earlier than expected because the text post about it was popular.

a/n #2: If you blink you’ll miss the appearance of axl.

warnings: smut, alcohol & drug use. Minors, do not interact please. Also there is no age!gap in this story. Everything will make sense when you read it until the end.

It was the first Monday after summer vacation. You were walking down the hallway to get to your classroom so you could greet your new students for the year at Vista Clara High School.

You had your hands full of folders with the new reading, projects and assignments material. Once you got to the room, you unlocked the door and put your bag and work on the desk. 

Ten minutes later and the bell rang, you walked to the door and opened it to say ‘hello’ to your students as they walked in. Once the last student walked in and took their seat you shut the door.

“Good morning class and welcome to AP English 12, this year we will be studying the work of…” A knock was heard at the door, cutting you off mid sentence and everyone stopped listening to look. 

You opened the door to see the principal and a young man with him. “Hello Y/N, I am sure you had a good summer. Please let me introduce you to Duff. He just moved here from New York. He shouldn’t be a problem for you as he was transferred from a college level prep school”. 

“Welcome Duff.” You said to him with a smile as principal McDonald left the room. 

Duff gazed at you as he walked past your desk and winked at you as he took the empty seat in the front row. 

You brushed it off as you started your lecture on The Great Gatsby.

During the long lecture, Duff would fool around with his classmates. This made you really upset but you didn’t want to say anything to cause a scene.

“Please write a report on the first five chapters of The Great Gatsby to be due in two weeks”. You explained to the class as the bell rang.

“See you on Saturday for the pool party, Duff”. Axl said as he was the last student to leave the room. 

When Axl left, Duff shut the door and looked at you with a smile. “Listen, I want to apologize for the way I acted in class today. I hope it wasn’t a bad first impression.”

Before you could respond with an answer, Duff cut you off. “Why don’t you come to my apartment on Friday night and I’ll cook you dinner to show you there are no hard feelings.” You knew it wasn’t right to meet your students outside of school but Duff seemed harmless. You were intrigued by him so you nodded in agreement. 

“See you then, Y/N.” Duff told you as he left you speechless. You sighed as the next group of students entered the room. It was going to be a long week.

**********

It was Friday evening and you were getting ready to meet Duff. You wore ripped jeans, t-shirt and a neon blue cardigan. You left home after an hour and drove twenty minutes to Duff’s apartment. 

When you got there, you parked your car and proceeded to walk up to his building. You looked up his name on the list and pressed three numbers to call him.

“Hello”. Duff answered after three rings.

“Duff, it’s Y/N from school. I am waiting downstairs”. You replied.

Duff unlocked the door and you opened it. You walked to the elevator to take you to the fourth floor where Duff lived.

When you finally exited the elevator, you noticed that the door to Duff’s unit was opened and he was waiting for you.

“Hello.” You said as you entered his apartment.

“Hey, you just made it and just in time too!” Duff explained as he walked over to give you a hug. 

After the hug, you took off your cardigan and gently put it on the couch that was near you. You sat at the dinner table as Duff poured you a glass of wine. 

While enjoying your meal together, Duff told you stories of being a small child in New York. He even mentioned how close he was to his little sister, whom he protected as they got older. 

Once dinner was finished, you helped Duff clean up and then moved to the couch to continue the conversation.

“So after university I settled in Los Angeles and started a job as a substitute teacher in an elementary school. My dream was always to teach in a high school. After gaining some experience, I applied at different school districts and finally got a call from Vista Clara. The rest is history.” You told Duff as you smiled.

“You are amazing, do you know that?”

You blushed and didn’t say anything. You were lost for words. 

“Listen, let me show you something. Do you trust me?” Duff asked.

You nodded, not knowing what you were getting yourself into.

Duff stood up for a few minutes and took out a plastic bag that was hidden in his bookshelf. 

The bag contained four small pink pills with the face of a devil. You started to get nervous as Duff sat beside you and took two pills out of the bag. He put both of them in his mouth and pulled you by your t-shirt. Duff kissed you softly and you felt him push one of the pills into your mouth with his tongue.

After a few moments, you suddenly felt a haze as you went under the high of the drug you took. As you were deep in the feeling of ecstasy you put your arms around Duff’s neck as the kiss deepened. You laid down as Duff got on top of you. You took a break from the kiss to take your shirt off as Duff unbuttoned his. Once your skin was bare, Duff kissed down your chest as he unhooked your bra. When he got to the button of your jeans you became wet as you thought of how far he would go. Suddenly, you felt Duff pulling your jeans off. When he finally got to your underwear, he licked them as they were covering your clit. You moaned as Duff replaced his mouth with his finger and you held your breath as you climaxed. 

Once the drug faded away, you both moved to Duff’s bedroom to cuddle until morning.

**********

On Monday morning, You entered the school with a bright feeling. You couldn’t believe that you spent the whole weekend with Duff.

While in your day dream, the bell rang for the first period. You quickly rushed to your classroom. Once you shut the door and organize your desk, you overheard your students whispering about something.

“Do you remember that weird guy Duff we met last week?” Britney said as another student nodded in agreement.

“Rumor has it that he is really 25 years old. He had a very sad childhood where his parents left him alone with the nanny and she seduced him for years. Now as an adult, he goes around different states pretending to be a high school kid. He does this to get close to his teacher and seduce them. I heard he seduces male teachers too. Then, before he can get caught, he runs off with a student.”

You couldn’t believe what your students were saying about Duff. You now noticed that not only was Duff missing from your class but also your top student Cheryl was absent too. 

You decided to brush off what your students were doing. “Attention students, please continue to work on your Great Gatsby report.” Once your class started working, you took a seat at your desk. As you got settled, you looked out the window and hoped Duff would be caught in his wild ways once and for all.

end

[hyperion-severus]

I was thinking about how Scorpius says he’s going to try out for the Quidditch team and this is how I think it would go down…

The entire week prior to tryouts, he’s waking up extra early before classes and dragging Albus out to the pitch to practice (only once the sun is up though, so they don’t have to think about last year's events).

So when the announcement comes out stating who made it on the team, Albus reads Scorpius’ name right next to the word ‘reserve’ and turns to the other boy with an apologetic look, knowing he was hoping for seeker. Even after all that hard work he put in over the summer and during the first week of school, he still hadn’t made an actual spot. But despite Albus’ sudden preparation to console his friend, Scorpius is beaming, a smile splitting his face.

“I made it! I made it on the team!” He was practically jumping up and down as he gripped Albus’ shoulders, “Do you see that? That’s my name right there! I must write my father at once!”

Albus is apprehensive — had he tried out and only made reserve he would’ve quit and withdrawn his name, never letting anyone in his family know he even attempted for the team. But he gladly celebrates with Scorpius.

It isn’t even until the end of term that Scorpius finally gets to play. It had been nearly a whole year of Albus decking himself in Slytherin gear just to sit alone in the stands. He would cheer and wave at his boyfriend who was always sat on the bench where he’d sit the whole game giddily, just happy to be included.

One of the Slytherin chasers had broken a leg in a nasty fall during the last match and had been instructed to sit out for the next one. That meant it was finally Scorpius’ chance to shine. Albus hadn’t confessed how nervous he was for the blond boy earlier that day at breakfast. He knew Scorpius wasn’t all that nimble — he had nearly grown another three inches within the last few months, and he could never quite adjust to the length of his limbs in time for them to grow again. He also had a tendency to get distracted… But Albus hadn’t wanted to put a damper on Scorpius’ excitement so he had kept his mouth shut.

Scorpius rambled on and on about how ready he was and how much he had been training for this moment from the minute they left the breakfast table and all the way down to the pitch that had slowly begun filling with students.

Albus bid him goodbye at the changing room doors, and with a good luck kiss to the cheek he was off to be the worry-some boyfriend in the stands.

The match seems to be going fine for the most part, Scorpius is able to score a few goals and Albus is sure his throat will rip out from how eagerly he cheers for him. But unfortunately his hard work is still nothing compared to how many goals the Hufflepuff chasers are able to score. Albus thinks they might actually make it through the match without any issues until suddenly one of the Hufflepuff beaters is being thrown off his broom and straight into Scorpius.

Albus’ stomach falls as he watches his boyfriends head of white blond hair plummeting towards the pitch, his broom shooting off towards the opposite stands. He had never shot up from his seat and ran towards the stairs so fast. His heart was hammering in his chest both from the exertion of running, which he didn’t do often, as well as panic for his boyfriend's safety.

He hears shouts as he darts across the pitch to where professors and players have swarmed around the Hufflepuff beater and Scorpius.

The beater is holding his arm and groaning as the nurse mutters about him. Albus’ eyes finally land on Scorpius expecting the worst. Surely bones are broken, he’ll probably be weary of ever getting on a broom again, let alone going up high — it was probably over a hundred and fifty feet that he had just fallen.

But there Scorpius was, sitting up in the grass with the same beaming grin on his face that he had the day the teams were announced.

“Albus!” He shouted as his boyfriend came into view, “Did you see that? Wasn’t that wicked?”

Albus couldn’t wipe the petrified look off his own face as he fell to his knees next to Scorpius, his hands going to Scorpius’ shoulders and then to his face, holding him tenderly.

“You’re alright?”

“Of course I am! McGonagall’s wonderful cushion charms! Oh, but I do think I broke my ankle!” He said cheerfully as if he had been offered sweets

Albus’ eyes glanced down at Scorpius’ foot that was twisted in an unnatural direction. Albus cringed, his stomach turning uncomfortably at the sight. He quickly turned back to face his boyfriend. His cheerful attitude had not been when he was expecting at all. He was far too perky for the situation he had found himself in.

“I’ve always wanted to have a cool quidditch story to tell!” Scorpius explained, only wincing slightly as he shifted his leg before his grin returned, “and now I’ve got one.”

Albus shook his head, still clutching Scorpius’ face, “You idiot, I thought you had died or something!”

Scorpius just laughed and the sound filled Albus’ chest with warmth. He was unable to keep the fond smile from cropping up on his face.

Later, towards the very end of term, when the couple was laid in bed together, the curtains drawn tight so their dormmates didn’t eavesdrop, Scorpius confessed something to Albus.

“I don’t think I’m going to try out for the quidditch team next year,” he admitted quietly.

Albus furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Scorpius had seemed to love being on the team, even though he had only truly played one game. He still raved about his mighty fall and kept the proud letters from his father about making the team.

“Why not? I thought you loved it. And next year you’ll have an even better chance making an actual position,” Albus inquired. Granted, he would secretly be glad he wouldn’t have to wake up early on the weekends for game days anymore. But seeing Scorpius eagerly engaged with something was more important than getting a few extra hours of shut-eye.

“I dunno. I don’t think it’s for me,” Scorpius sighed. “I was pleased to make the team, and now I have a story to tell, but I think next year I want to focus on me things.”

Albus still couldn’t understand. Scorpius’ attitude towards quidditch all year would never have led Albus to predict this conversation. Scorpius had checked out every possible book on quidditch from the library and had whole notebooks full of notes on moves and players.

“Has the team been bullying you? Are they saying stuff?” Albus wondered.

Initially there had been a few hard-headed responses, saying Scorpius didn’t deserve to be on the team due to last year’s fiasco, and the rumors that hadn’t truly died about him being Voldemort's son. But they had quickly died off after a few curt threats from Albus himself.

“No, no, no! They've all been great,” Scorpius assured. “I just think… maybe I’m not a quidditch guy, you know? I had my fun. I think it’s time to move on.”

Albus knew what he meant, neither of them were quidditch guys. He had thought that last year when Scorpius had first mentioned wanting to try out for the team. But he had always been sure to support Scorpius in what he wanted. He had made a promise of that when he had made a promise to Scorpius to not be so self centered.

“You know I’ll support you in anything,” Albus assured, “But why don’t you think this over during the summer? I don’t want you to regret it.”

Scorpius hummed and pulled Albus closer — it would be the last night they got to share a bed for a little while, as tomorrow they were to board the Hogwarts Express to head home for the summer holidays. “I don’t think I need to. I’ve made up my mind.”

[aceistheplace86]

Strawberry & Pine Pt.5

(I think I am going to end this story here soon. But for now, you get some cute stuff) (I made Stan cheesy. I am not sorry.)

Stan had been getting closer to Julie during their time working at the shack and working on the portal together. He eventually admitted to himself that he was falling for her. He hadn’t been able to admit those feelings to her.

“You alright out here Stanley?” A soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

Stan had been sitting on the porch outside just trying to get his thoughts together. He was really starting to like Julie, he found himself always wanting to be around her and never wanted her to go home at the end of the day. But he couldn’t get himself to be brave enough to tell her, he felt he had too much going on, too much baggage. He didn’t feel good enough for her.

“Oh, yeah I’m alright” He glanced over at Julie who was leaning in the doorway. “The twins give you any trouble?”

Dipper and Mable had gone to bed but not before asking Julie to tell them a story. Mable was really the one asking but Julie knew Dipper was listening once she started talking about the Loch Ness “monster”

“They’re all settled down, hope you don’t mind I told them about Nessie,” She says sitting down next to him on the couch.

Stan sighed “I don’t enjoy the fact that the kids know about the weird stuff that goes on here, but I know they already know a lot. They’re doing good at protecting each other”

Julie put a hand on his arm “You’re doing good at protecting them too Stanley” She whispers softly.

He looks at her, finding himself taking notice of her eyes again. She had pretty eyes, she was pretty, and she smelled like Strawberries. It wasn’t a sickly sweet, she smelled comforting.

God he was going crazy.

“Y’know Ford wrote a lot about you” He whispered. Why on earth did he bring up his brother to her? That was not a flirting technique in the slightest.

Julie seemed shocked but nodded slowly “Yeah I know” She looks back out ahead of her, sinking back into the couch. “He liked to study me, my powers, my strengths and weaknesses”

Stan kept looking at her even when she looked away. He didn’t say anything, he just wanted her to keep talking.

“At first it was nice, I thought I had a friend” She shakes her head “But I started to realize he didn’t see me like that. He just saw me as apart of his research.”

“I see you” Stan whispered, the words falling out of his mouth faster than he could realize what he had just said.

Julie looked over at him “What?”

She was looking at him again and he felt like a kid with a high school crush. His brain. Could. Not. Work. “I uhm” He stuttered “You know cause, I’m not that old, despite what Dipper says when I’m driving” He let out an awkward laugh and quickly looked away from her.

He could see out of the corner of his eyes that she was just looking at him “Stanley” She whispers softly. He’s kind of hoping that she will force him to talk about whatever the hell that was, to talk about his feelings. Something.

But she didn’t. “I should probably get going” She stood up from the couch “You should get some sleep here soon”

Stan watched her stand, he felt like he was about to lose his only chance. He didn’t think he would be this brave tomorrow. “Julie wait” He patted the couch when she turned to look at him. Once she took a seat he sighed heavily. “We’ve been doing great work with the portal” he said slowly.

She was just looking at him patiently, not a hint of judgment or annoyance on her face. “And I know soon we’ll get that thing turned on. A-and I like spending time with you, y’know, you’re a hard worker here at the Shack and-and you get along real well with the kids” He rubbed the back of his neck “My brother wrote a lot about your magical talent but I uh, I think I got lucky getting to know you as a person” He groaned and ran his hand down his face “That sounds real lame” he mumbled.

“It’s not lame, Stanley” She says with a small smile on her face. “I think you might be the first person to make an effort to treat me like a person”

He moved his hand and looked at her confused “Whaddya mean?”

“Well everyone knows about me and my magic, so that is their focus. I get it, it’s cool to have a Gravity Falls "anomaly" do fun magic and not try and attack the town, but after a while, it gets frustrating to only be known as a witch” She shrugs “But you have never once asked me to be apart of the Mystery Shack's attraction, and I know that would bring in tourists” She chuckled “But you made me strawberry pancakes my first morning here, you offered me a room and you took time to decorate it with my favorite color”

Stan shrugs “Mable has a lot of pink and she likes to decorate”

Julie just laughs “But you care Stanley. You’re sweet to me, You didn’t even ask me to use my magic to help with the portal, I just did it.”

“Yeah, I dunno how much magic you can use before you get tired or somethin’ and I didn’t want to wear you out cleaning up a mess you didn’t make”

“See, you’re real sweet to me” She continues “I knew that even when your brother talked about you, even though he was upset it was hard for him to convince himself, or even me, that you were the bad guy”

“He talked about me?”

Julie nodded. “Ford is a stubborn shit but he cares.” She rolls her eyes slightly “he just doesn’t really show it well”

Stan nodded and thought about it for a moment “I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you this without sounding like some love struck teenager” He rubbed the back of his neck “But I don’t think that’s possible because you make me feel like that again. Like how I used to be before all of this” he waves his hands and looks around “went down” He looks at her “I like being around you Julie. I-“ He just nodded slowly.

“I like you too Stanley” She says sitting back with him. “Hey I’ve been thinking of a good way to scam tourists”

“Oh yeah?” he leans back against the couch and pulled her into his side “Whats that?”

Julie comfortably snuggled into his side “You get people to pay money to enter a drawing to win a prize, you get everyone all excited and you make them think that the more they pay the better chance they have at winning” She continued “The twist. All that they’ll win is a shirt that says ‘I entered the Mystery Mania Raffle and all I got was this lousy t-shirt’”

Stan busted out laughing, tossing his head back “That’s a good one! Real smart” He kissed the top of her head “I like that”

The two of them stayed out there all night, talking about ways to trick tourists, some of his funnier crimes and eventually about what life was like before Gravity Falls, and what might happen after this portal gets fixed.

Mable and Dipper found them asleep together the next morning. Mable has pictures.

(I hope you enjoyed this! The next part is gonna be sad. Yay!)

[fictionalmenxyn]

¡𝟏𝟎 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐈 𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮!

Pt.1 (making it a story…hopefully) (ALSO not movie accurate!!) (will be based in modern time rather than the 90s/00s)

Pairing: Rafe x reader (strangers/enemies to lovers)

(Face claim: Jessica Alba)

Warnings: language, mentions of the word ‘rape’ (due to a part in the book I reference ‘heroes’ if you haven’t read it, I kinda recommend, I read it for my gcse and it was one of the better books I did for English 😭)

-❂❂❂-

It was the beginning of summer, life was great. Even greater for Rafe, new place, fresh start. Moving from California, to Outer Banks was a big change. Well, it was nice for him. He hoped the people… mainly girls… were different from the fake basic girls in Cali.

It was his first day of school, as for you, it was a normal day of school.

You were in your stone grey Toyota gt86, blasting your rock chick music. As the car next to you blasts white chick music. You rolled your eyes at the basic taste of music.

You pulled off as soon as the light hit green. Driving over to the high school.

Once on you had parked up, you got out of the car. Grabbing your tote bag from the back seat you closed both doors and locked your car. Putting your keys into your bag. You adjusted the straps on your shoulder.

Rafe was already there, talking with his ‘tour guide’. The guy, Jake, went through the basics. More specifically the basics of what group of people was what. The ‘jocks’, ‘popular girls’, ‘cowboys’, etc.

That’s when Rafe spotted you from afar. You walked over to your small (preferably) friendship group. Sitting with them on the small brick wall.

Rage’s attention went from you as Jake patted his shoulder and chuckled. Rafe asked “who’s that??” Jake replied “that, my friend, is Y/n Y/l/n… no point in going for her, man.” Rafe’s eyebrow raised “why not??” Jake answered “dude, she’s like got a huge attitude and kinda a bitch…” Rafe scoffed “you probably said something to upset her or some shit, that’s why..” Jake shakes his head “all I’m sayin’ is, watch out for her, man.”

Rafe’s attention was back on you. The way your hair naturally curls, the way your white band tee hugged your chest nicely, the way your long black skirt hugged your curves in all the right places. The way the slight showed just the right amount of thigh that it would be a nice view; but doesn’t dress code you. The way your docs topped off the outfit nicely. Edgy, but modest. You had different style to other girls in the school. And Rafe, for the first time, wasn’t complaining. He never thought he’d be into girls that didn’t wear dresses that practically suffocated them. Or girls that didn’t wear skirts that showed half of your ass. You were different, a good different.

The bell snapped him out of his thoughts. Shit, he has class, he looked over to you one more time to see you walking away with your friends.

-❂❂❂-

You sat in class, the teacher spoke “so? Did anyone even bother to read heroes??”

A girl raised her hand, “yeah, it was so romantic…” you rolled your eyes and remarked “romantic? Larry raped Nicole, so Francis went on a mission. Then it was wasted cause he didn’t even get to complete the mission cause Larry shot himself. Then Nicole and Francis didn’t even reconnect officially… hardly a love story..”

The teacher spoke “thank you, Y/n… didn’t need the summary but thanks…” you crossed your arms and leaned back into the plastic chair “why can’t we read better books by better authors… like Emily Brontë, or George Orwell, even Chuck Palahniuk, maybe even Steven Ki-”

Your teacher spoke “alright, we get it, you say it every time, and I always say..” you mocked “I can’t do a single thing, it’s the school that picks, not me..” your teacher nodded “exa-” the classroom door opens.

Rafe walks in, he gave a small smile “wha’d I miss?” You look over your shoulder. Looking him up and down “discussing the fact this school picks shitty books rather than actual interesting ones…” he smirked when he heard you speak “great.” He left the class.

You looked to your teacher, they spoke “office, now” you place your books in your tote bag and put it over your shoulder. You gave a small smirk to your friends as they subtly cheered for you. As the completely agreed with your argument.

You walked down the hallway, Rafe leaned against the lockers on his phone. As you walked past he looked up, “Y/n… right?”

You turned on your heel and faced him “who’s asking?” He chuckles softly “I’m uh, Rafe… Rafe Cameron…” you nodded “I know, you’re Ward’s son, right??” He raised an eyebrow. How did she know?

You quickly added “my dad is in the same company as the one your father joined. He told me they chatted and mentioned that you’d be joining here…” he nodded “oh right… yeah, uh where you headin’?”

“The office, once again, the English teacher never likes me.” He chuckled as he walked over to her “why’s that? You smarter than her?” You shrug “wouldn’t say smart, I just have good taste in book unlike her or the school…” he nodded. Shoving his hands in the pockets of his slacks “so… mind if I walk with you?” You shook your head “I don’t mind. I wasn’t going to the principals office anyways..” he smirked “bad girl, huh?” You playfully rolled your eyes “more like, the principal is fed up of me going to her office… so here I am, roaming the halls for the next…” you look at your watch “..ten minutes”

He nods, you walk side by side. Rafe didn’t know what he was feeling. He wasn’t intimidated but felt almost shy. He couldn’t describe it, you look the type to rip people’s head off if they bark back at you. But honestly… that was hot in his eyes.

-❂❂❂-

It was currently lunch, you sat on the bleachers with your friends. Eating lunch and talking about anything and everything.

Rafe sat with Jake and a few of Jake’s friends. Rafe clicked almost instantly with Topper and Kelce. They’re both interested in golf, partying, girls, etc. So naturally they clicked.

Rafe would glance over to you from time to time. Topper chuckled “hey, if you keep lookin’ she’s gonna see, dude” Rafe rolled his eyes “fine with me.” The guys chuckled.

Kelce asked “hey Top, Y/n friends with your sister, right??” Topper nodded then sipped his can of Pepsi. Rafe looked to Topper, “wait seriously??” Topper put tossed his can in the trash “yeah, dude, she’s over my place quite a lot.”

Rafe’s ears perked, over Topper’s place quite a lot?? Damn…

He then looked back over to the group to see his sister, Sarah, walk over and sit with them. He watched as Sarah and you talked and laughed. He thinks to himself ‘if she’s friends with Sarah, that means she might come over our place? Oh. My. God’

-❂❂❂-

It was an hour or two after school, you sat on the couch. Your Marshall headphones resting on your head as you listen to music and read.

You hear footsteps approaching, it was your father. He holds an envelope to you. You pulled your headphone down, resting them around your neck. You opened the envelope and gasped “no way!” Your dad asked “what is it??” You answered “I got in! The art and music college we talked about! I got in!” He smiled “really?! Congrats, sweetie!”

Your younger sister (who’s completely opposite to you, full glam and girly, made you wanna gag) came downstairs is a slightly shorter than usual dress. Your father asked “and where are you going??”

Your sister, Gabs, replied “there’s this boy, his name is Brooks” you rolled your eyes “you mean the not so good looking guy who is a huge idiot??” “Shut up!!” Your sister looks back to your dad “he asked to go to the movies, go I pleaseee go daddy?” Your dad shakes his head “absolutely not, you know the rule. No dating till you graduate” Gabs rolls her eyes “please!” He replied “no, end of discussion.”

Gabs argued “this isn’t fair, Y/n gets to go out but I can’t??” You fake laughed “good one, Gabs.” Your father added “same rule applies to her.” You looked over to Gabs “and by the way, I’m not looking for anyone, not interested in a single soul…”

Gabs huffed, your father walks away. You crossed your legs on the couch and rested your now closed book in your lap. “So, where were you actually going? I assume you just lied to dad…” Gabs whispered “a party…” you lightly scoffed “you know you’re too young for those parties, especially with Brooks..” Gabs rolls her eyes “I’m only two years younger than you, quit it.”

Your father re-enters, “new deal, Gabs can have a date-” Gabs squealed and smiled. Your dad added “-if Y/n gets a date.” Gabs smiled drops. “What?! She won’t date! Daddy this is unfair!”

You grabbed your book and stood up, heading over to the stairs. Your sister complained “daddy! She won’t date at all, she’ll be buried and not have a date! C’mon!” You chuckled “good, I’ll keep it that way.” Gabs stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at you “you’re so selfish, you know that?!” You chuckled and walked down the hallway upstairs and to your room. Gabs huffed in annoyance.

If you date, Gabs can date. But you don’t wanna date anyone, do you? Not now, not ever… maybe that can change… maybe it’ll stay the same… who knows…

-❂❂❂-

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 46 (Home to Henford)

Everett and Spencer Pancakes had worked hard on their marriage, but they still struggled in Oasis Springs so far from their families.

Then one day, Everett's phone rang. His hometown parish - the 400-year-old church in Henford-on-Bagley where he'd grown up listening to the scripture of the Watcher - needed a new priest. Though their sons were young for such a big move, they jumped at the chance for Greyson and Jett to grow up in their childhood paradise.

They moved in with Spencer's parents, Eric and Alice, at her childhood home in Old New Henford. With Lydia now in Brindleton Bay with the Goths, Spencer's parents had plenty of room for Everett, Spencer, Greyson, and baby Jett - and their dog, JJ, too!

Their first day back, Everett's twin sister, Malia, dropped by to visit and share some happy news. "Jamar and I are expecting!"

Everett knew his sister and her husband, Henford's young, successful doctor, Jamar Scott, had been trying for over a year. "That's fantastic!" Everett beamed, and Malia practiced holding infants by spending the rest of the afternoon entertaining baby Jett.

Spencer's work was primarily in Selvadorada and the only thing that kept her in Oasis Springs was the sun and Everett's old job, but being back with her family again meant everything to her. Not just having her parents, but her older sister Olivia lived with her own family just up the road on Old Mill Hill. Olivia's youngest was close in age to Greyson, and Spencer wanted their families near as they raised their own sons.

"I never realized how much I needed you until we unpacked our bags," Spencer admitted to her mother in the family room, while Jett snuggled with his grandpa Eric on the sofa. "Hopefully now that I'm home I can stop second-guessing everything I do as a mom."

Alice looked at her daughter with a generous smile. "You didn't need to come all the way home for us to know you're a good mother. Your boys love you, and we love them almost as much as I know you do."

Spencer dearly loved her sons, but she worried her ambition was too obvious. That maybe her sons knew she itched to fly to Selvadorada and immerse herself in her work, thousands of miles away from them. The way her sons and her job competed for her time left her overflowing with guilt, but now that she was home, she was more hopeful about the future than she'd been in years.

Everett's grandmothers, Agatha and Agnes Crumpcakes, were getting older. He was glad to be closer to help his father and stepmother take care of them. He felt a responsibility to his family as the eldest of his siblings, even if he was only five minutes older than Malia.

She was going to have a baby, Kash lived in Brindleton Bay with his husband, Wolfgang (Munch!), and Elizabeth was still in high school. Leaving his church and parishioners in Oasis Springs had been difficult, but being home with his family, and at the pulpit of his hometown church, felt like the choice he should have made when he and Spencer married five years earlier.

Everywhere they went they saw familiar faces, and their return began to heal Everett and Spencer's marriage even further.

They were home again, just in time for their dear friend Heather to bring Conrad to Henford to meet her loved ones... ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: The baby is Jett, Heather and Everett's biological child that she delivered as a surrogate. So far he looks like Heather. He even had her hair colour, but I darkened it because I'm already sick of it repeatedly showing up in Neal's descendants.

NOTE 2: Three days without Conrad and today without Heather, I know that's bold strategy, but I wanted this post to stand alone because a) I had to set up why they left the desert before Heather visits, and doing it in the same post was a little too verbose, even for me, b) that gorgeous church build needed to get some featured screen time, and c) we haven't seen Jett since he was born and the pic with his Aunt Malia above is the clearest one I have of him as an infant. Heather and Conrad (and Ash!) are all back tomorrow!

WCIF Henford's Church: Escombe Church in the Sims 4 Gallery by @simstruhistory/TeaWithTash (beautiful build, cc-free, and there's more historical content at their page!) This is a historical recreation of the real Escombe Church in England and I think it's got a perfect Henford vibe. It doesn't actually fit in Henford in my main save but I want to use it again to stage some funerals in the future and maybe weddings, too. I've referenced the 400-year-old church in Henford a couple times but never showed it because it didn't exist (*whispers*I didn't wanna build it) until I saw this one showcased here on simblr!

I'm so, so grateful to creators with build skills, mod skills, CAS skills, all skills, saving me time to do the Sim stuff I really enjoy. 🤗

(Also I'm not a spiritual person, but I have Lumpinou's Rambunctious Religions mod installed because I was playing Ultimate Decades for a while, and just because I'm not religious doesn't mean some of my sims can't be!)

[chloesimaginationthings]

I started following you in middle school because jojo is my special interest, and now you're the reason I'm fixated on fnaf in highschool

I think you're funny and I like your art style :D

Anyway, I think they'd be friends

THIS IS SOOO CUTE!! THEY WOULD BE!

[jq37]

OK Brennan, if you aren't gonna let me have Aelwyn posted up in the manor at all times, having her use her dramatic villain skills to protect Adaine before going off to teach middle schoolers is the next best thing I could have hoped for. What a mental image--Ms. "I Came Here To Fuck" teaching cantrips to eleven-year-olds. Wild.

[puppyeared]

i feel like im not making any sense but does anyone else feel like there are stories that let u run with them and ones that spell everything out for you

[sea-buns]

hey to a gorgug liker what do you think about his nightmare section from sophomore year? cause I feel like the horror there is less “ah my grandparents were racist” and more “fuck am I being a stereotype? are the people who hate me right about me?” cause wrt to his having to modulate between barbarian and artificer in fhjy it’s like. idk

oh boy do I have thoughts

Tbh, I had zero recollection of the racism stuff until reading this. It was just SO MINOR. His trial in the forest felt really lackluster to me. I feel like everyone else's really dug into an issue at the core of their character and his felt more like "everyone is getting a trial, what do we do for gorgug?" And idk if that was just a bad delivery/call on Brennan's part or if it could have been helped by Zac engaging more in it but it just. Didn't feel like anything. It was a lot more about the dice than the horror of the claustrophobia and the bugs and you've never fit in anywhere you live to make yourself smaller wherever you go you're just the loser who hits hard. Like yeah I guess there was an overarching theme of Gorgug gaining confidence in himself but it was done very poorly imo.

And I think his trial in the forest was wrong for putting such an emphasis on his intelligence. I think that would have been much better suited in fy, back when he was still being heavily bullied, but beyond that it felt like a quick and easy thing for them to grab. Yes, he had insecurities about his intelligence with all the complications with Zelda. But, to me, the focus of fhsy was his HEART. It put a spotlight on how his social circle has grown, and his bully is his friend now, and he's not alone anymore. His interactions with Ayda, the friendship book, trying to help Fabian, I believe in you spring break, it's Gorgug keep going. I made a post earlier in the season (including a great addition by another user) that I think articulates that emphasis on his emotional intelligence very well.

Fhjy HOWEVER. I think it's doing everything that sy failed at. It's giving him space to have an inner conflict. It's addressing lots of little issues and conflicts he's had over the campaign and combining them into one coherent piece. Like, guy was in a relationship pretty much all of fy, and then dealt with the fallout in sy, but I don't think we've EVER seen as much quality relationship development with Gorgug as we have in jy. He and Fig spent an entire summer together trapped in a tour bus and no season has indicated that bond and friendship more than this one. He and Riz have found something to bond over, meanwhile in previous seasons there was pretty much zero one-on-one personal interaction between them. Fabian expressed sadness over Gorgug leaving the Owlbears, because it was the only thing they had that was just for them to hang out and be friends.

Just with that, we're already doing leagues more with Gorgug's character than we ever have. And I haven't even STARTED on his barbificier journey, oh dear god lmao.

Gonna preface this bit with a post I made before the season even started. It was about Zac's steady improvement in his performances with every PC, and how I was predicting that it was gonna culminate into a Gorgug that does him the justice he deserves. It was initially supposed to be a criticism, but I got a little lost in the sauce of loving my boy lol. Still very relevant to the topic of this ask!

God, where do I START?? Addressing his relationship with rage? I'll be honest, I didn't think that would ever be used as a character arc. And I'm not even sure why I've felt that way. I just didn't think... I didn't think about how he might've had a dislike for his own rage. Like, the WAY he rages isn't bad by any means, but I don't think it ever crossed my mind how actually harmful his lessons to sing to combat rage were. No, I did not like the way Porter went about teaching him (a bit too unsupportive of his capabilities and reminiscent of shitty teachers for my liking). But his point about EMBRACING anger; that rage is not bad and does not— should not— need to be stifled. THAAAAT. That opened up such an interesting dialogue for Gorgug.

I do appreciate the beginnings of Gorgug's interest in artificing in fhsy. I think the crumbs of it back then did a great job of leading into his larger commitment to multiclassing. And I think what he's been doing with it this season is exactly what was lacking in his section of the nightmare forest. His trial was a puzzle, based entirely on die rolls, where his solution after failing even when he's assisted by the enemy is to essentially give up. I understand that facing their fears was the whole point of the trials, but his section came off as incredibly anticlimactic and unfulfilling. Just the fact that it was a trial based on stat numbers more than the development of the character itself.

Where junior year succeeds in actually showcasing his intelligence and the evolution of the worth he holds in himself is with the hands-on approach it takes. Yes, the academic rolls are still dice and stats, but there's a physical manifestation that wasn't there before. Gorgug is smart when it comes to getting his hands dirty. It is in the practical applications of his skills that his brand of intelligence shines the most.

And while, once again, I did not LIKE Porter's heavy resistance to multiclassing....I have to admit that I don't think Gorgug would have had such a boost in confidence without that struggle. Even if my boy had trouble expressing it to Porter verbally, HE STOOD UP FOR HIMSELF. Instead of simply rolling over and agreeing that he wasn't built for a technical class and it was stupid to try– he was DEFIANT.

The kid who said "I'm a dumbass. Eat me you stupid bug." took on FOUR CLASSES. Three school years worth of artificer simultaneously. AND stayed with the Owlbears. AND went along on party missions to help Kristen's candidacy. AND was always on deck to help the party with the overarching plotline.

AND HE ACED IT!!! THE FIRST BARBIFICER THAT THE AGUEFORT ADVENTURING ACADEMY HAS EVER SEEN!!!!! He is paving the way for every unprecedented multiclass that follows.

Just in comparison to who he was in the previous season, the amount of drive and self-worth he's gained is astounding. In my eyes, it's done more than enough to makeup for the way his development fell flat in sophomore year.

i hope this fulfilled the ask in the way you were hoping! i told you i'd get carried away lmao. writing a bunch about any of zac's characters is always such a joy. gorgug had always been my favorite of the bad kids but i always found myself wishing he went deeper, y'know? and now it's real. my precious anxious boy has been handled so well. and watching zac's growth as a performer has been such a blast.

thanks for the ask! :D

[introspectivememories]

Missing your veil inspired model Bernard au if you have any more ideas for it please share would love to hear them 🙏🏻🙏🏻

god i havent thought about this au in sooo long but i do have some hc!! (og veil!au posts here and here)

so after the Billboard Incident, tim becomes, like, obsessed, with bear and he doesn't realize it's bernard until he's on like a 2am deep dive and finds out that "bear" is just bernard's modeling name and his real name is bernard dowd

and tim's a little confused bc what the hell is bear doing modeling??? back when then were in high school, bear used to talk all the time about cooking

but also, tim's famous!!! bear's famous!!! why did he never reach out?

and then one day, tim's doing like a photoshoot to announce the new wayne collab with some up and coming modeling house and the director of the photoshoot says that he'll be working with another model

cool, whatever, at least he gets to work with a pro right? and the door opens and out comes bear with his hair artfully tousled and lips painted a pretty pink and he's wearing clothes that show off his broad shoulders and oh my god, the fucking boner is back

and as he discreetly tries to hide it, he opens his mouth to greet bear except, bear's eyes go stone cold and the grip on his coffee cup gets tighter

"what the hell is this?" bear says coldly and then he turns around to talk to his manager

"you said i wouldn't have to work with him. in fact, it was the one thing you promised me, when i signed that contract."

tim sinks back into seat stunned as bear's manager drags him off for a quick conversation. when bear comes back the shoot goes off without a hitch but bear says nothing but the bare minimum to him the whole time

tim pulls bear's manager aside to talk privately before the shoot ends

"did i do something wrong?" / "mister drake, you know i can't tell you what my client has told me in private and even if i could, i still wouldn't"

"i havent seen him since high school. i just wish i knew what he was mad about."

"mister drake, more than bernard being my most valuable client, he is also my friend. i can't and i won't tell you the reason but, you look like a good guy. and in all honesty, i think you'd be good for him. so i'll leave you with a hint: maybe it's not about what you did do, and more about what you didn't do."

"if you're his friend, why're you helping me?"

"bear's good now, he'll be great when he can move on from whatever's stopping him. i think it's you. this hurt has been festering for almost a decade and if we're being brutally honest, it's your fault. so you fix it, so that my bernard can be up there with the greats."

bear's manager turns to leave and right before he exits the door he looks back and says, "and if all else fails mister drake, just remember that apologies are usually a good place to start."

[potatobugz]

i feel as if im going mad so im going to just put this out here. real quick. movieunleashers starters ramble.

i cant stop thinking about how mudkip broke down in that one scene in "Typomaniac," when Chespin called him mean. for a second he lets his mask slip a little bit and to me he just... acts his age. he starts crying and calls chespin mean back. maybe im just hyperfocusing on this one detail but mudkip is about 12 years old.

and that just makes me wonder what happened in this guys life that brought him to where he is now. and it makes it all the more tragic how his whole world revolves around chespin, but he is the one bringing him the most pain. and how young he was when he died.

there is a large theme of growing up in "Rare Candy." the characters ages are emphasized in that particular episode, and one of the main conflicts is fennekin wanting to evolve faster.

the thing about characters in these stories is that they're not allowed to just be kids, to have a childhood. so many bad things happen to them. like. mudkips whole, Everything. fennekin when she was famous in typomaniac, or dealing with her own insecurities/pressure from society about her relationship w chespin. and chespin always having to shoulder his friends problems & always somehow managing to stay positive despite everything.

why cant they just. play video games. eat ice cream or something. go to the movies

at the end of the day, i think both mudkip and fennekin are characters who grew up too fast. by distancing himself from them, chespin refused to follow in their footsteps and just wanted to stay a kid.

good for him.