#and i took them and the stuff from the crates and then sat in my inventory for a while in utter terror

[chanelrolls]

THE MOTH HOUSE | Zayne Li, Caleb Xia 🔞

synopsis. growing up with them was fun, until they turned into fully grown men.

pairing. zayne & caleb x reader

tags. afab!fem reader, slight dead dove, implied pseudocest, dubcon, minor age gap, mutual pining, cheesy romance, slowburn, tension, childhood trio, kissing at 16, eventual smut (but they are adults), oral (m!receiving), sandwich, 3some, nipple play, fingering, 18+

a/n. this is very plot-based so prepare a snack while at it! i didn't do enough proofreading so might be messy and typo-filled lol. but if you're into tension-focused fics, this one is so for you

wc. 13.2k

picture ©️. HOBI

when you were nine years old, you weren’t supposed to follow them that far into the woods.

zayne had told you to wait near the fence, but you never listened when he said stuff like that. and caleb? he didn’t even look back. he just shouted something about a butterfly and took off like his sneakers had wings, crashing through branches and disappearing into the trees.

so of course you went after them, because you were nine and bored. and maybe a little afraid they’d forget you existed if you didn’t keep up.

when you finally found them, caleb was crouched in front of this sad little shed that looked like it’d collapse if you sneezed too hard. the door was hanging off like a crooked jaw, and one window was so cloudy it looked like it had cataracts.

but inside?

there were moths. everywhere!

“woah,” caleb breathed, sticking his head through the door. “this is... this is epic!”

zayne rolled his eyes. “it’s dirty.”

“no, it’s mysterious,” caleb corrected, already halfway inside. “you gotta think bigger, man.”

you hung by the door, nose wrinkled and arms crossed. “are they gonna fly into my face?”

“only if you scream,”

zayne muttered something under his breath about bacteria and tetanus but followed you both in anyway, stepping carefully like the floor might give out beneath him. which it might’ve.

but for some reason, that little shed was perfect.

you spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning it with a broom caleb stole from the neighbor’s garage (without asking), and zayne found some flattened cardboard boxes to sit on. you claimed the back corner near the broken window and said it was your ‘study area’ even though you didn’t bring any books. caleb said it was for “planning missions.” while zayne said you all needed vaccinations.

caleb wanted to call it “fort destiny,” but you shot that down immediately, “too dramatic!”

“you’re dramatic,” he shot back.

zayne voted for “the shed.”

“boring,” caleb and you agreed in unison.

so it became the moth house. no one really agreed on it. it just stuck.

you went there every day that summer. you brought juice boxes and mismatched pillows, old comic books, and one time, caleb even dragged in a radio that only played static and one fuzzy country station. it was too hot most days, and everything smelled like dust and pine needles. but you didn’t care.

you were nine. and this was your kingdom.

sometimes caleb would fall asleep snoring on the crate while zayne read something about how moths get confused by moonlight. other times, you’d all lie flat on your backs and try to find shapes in the broken ceiling. caleb saw a dragon. zayne said that was ridiculous. then you said you saw a chicken.

zayne tried to pretend like he wasn’t smiling, but you caught it.

and once, just once, you scraped your hand on a nail when you tripped, and your lip started wobbling even though you swore you weren’t going to cry. caleb freaked out and offered you a chewed-up piece of gum, but zayne just quietly pulled out the tiny first aid kit he always carried like a mini grandpa.

he didn’t say anything while he cleaned it. but his hands were careful, and he gave you the only sticker from the band-aid box that wasn’t ugly.

later, when the sun started dipping low and the moths began fluttering again, soft and sleepy, you all sat in a row by the doorway.

“we’ll still hang out when we’re grown-ups, right?” you asked.

“depends,” zayne said.

“on what?”

“if you stop eating glue.”

caleb cackled so hard he almost fell off the step. you shoved zayne's shoulder and he actually laughed, a little. just a tiny puff of air through his nose.

but you all knew the answer was yes.

on a sunday, you were not expecting to get married that afternoon.

you didn’t even ask for this. you were just sitting cross-legged in the grass, braiding little clovers into a ring, when caleb plopped down beside you and said, all breathless, “i’m gonna be your groom.”

you blinked. “huh?”

“for the wedding,” he added, puffing out his chest like a proud pigeon. “we’re getting married under the swing set. it’s the law.”

“whose law?”

“mine,” caleb grinned handsomely, showing off a juice-stained gap in his teeth. “i found the tie first, and i already practiced saying 'i do' in the mirror like… ten times.”

zayne, who had been sitting nearby flipping through some dinosaur book, looked up over the top of it. “that’s not how it works,” he muttered, adjusting the rim of his round glasses.

caleb narrowed his eyes. “you weren’t even playing.”

“i am now,” zayne said calmly, standing up and brushing grass off his shorts. “and i’m pretty sure she deserves to choose her groom, not be told by a boy who still eats crayons.”

“that was first grade!” caleb snapped, standing up to glare into zayne at eye-level.

you looked between them, amused. “i didn’t say i was marrying anyone.”

caleb ignored you. “i bring snacks to share. that’s groom material.”

“i helped her with her math homework,” zayne said, folding his arms. “long division. actual suffering.”

“i built her a fort last week—”

“that collapsed on her.”

“but it was cool before that!”

“you didn’t even factor wind speed.”

“it was made of couch cushions, zayne!”

you sighed and pressed the clover ring to your forehead like a very tired queen. “okay, okay. we can just, maybe, pretend there’s two grooms?”

both boys fell silent.

“...that’s not how weddings work,” zayne flatly remarked.

“sounds like she’s choosing both of us,” caleb smirked.

“no. she’s not.”

“yes, she is.”

"whoever wins at tag gets to be the groom!" you exclaimed with a clover ring pinched between your fingers like a sacred treasure.

caleb didn’t even wait for a countdown. he yelped, “yes!” and tore across the grass, limbs flailing, sneakers barely clinging to his feet.

“no cheating, okay!” you called after him, kind of amused, and kind of exasperated.

he didn’t answer. he just kept running like a man with a mission and a full juice box in his system.

you turned to zayne, but he wasn’t even moving. instead, he had already sat back down on the grass beside you, legs crossed while pulling something small from the pocket of his hoodie.

you blinked at him. “...aren’t you gonna run?”

he looked up, shrugged. “i don’t wanna.”

“but, what about the wedding?”

“i’m already the groom,”

your mouth opened, then shut. “how do you figure?”

he held something out to you. a dandelion.

"here. this is a flower," he said, as if it wasn’t painfully obvious. "you need flowers for weddings."

you stared at him, a little speechless.

meanwhile...

caleb, halfway across the yard and pumping his arms like he was in the olympics, tripped dramatically over a rock. he landed with a shout and skidded in the grass, dirt all over his knees and elbows.

he groaned, sat up, looked around only to realize that zayne wasn’t running behind him. at all.

"...hey!" caleb barked like a dog, furious

and betrayed, "why aren’t you tagging me?!"

zayne didn’t look up. just dusted a bit of grass off your shoulder like the gentleman he totally believed he was. caleb stomped back, dirt-smudged and puffing. “this isn’t fair!”

zayne blinked at him. “you lost.”

“i wasn’t racing myself!”

“you kinda were.”

you tried not to giggle.

"i hate both of you," caleb muttered, sulking as he sat down beside you and crossed his arms.

you held up the clover ring between them, solemn. "do you still wanna get married or not?"

they both looked at each other. then at you.

"...can we take turns being the groom?" caleb mumbled.

zayne narrowed his eyes. "i'm not sharing."

you sighed. because ugh, being nine was already this exhausting.

when you turned twelve, it started with thunder, low and slow like a grumble from the sky’s stomach. your lights flickered once, then again, before surrendering completely. the living room sighed into darkness.

you were halfway through brushing your hair when the first knock came.

it turns out to be caleb, soaked through the sleeves, and holding a duffel bag in one hand with a half-squished bag of marshmallows in the other. “power’s out! mom said i could crash here. also i brought snacks. kinda.”

five minutes later, a second knock came. you could already predict that it would be zayne. and he shows up not wet at all. he had an umbrella, a change of clothes, and a battery-operated reading lamp tucked under his arm. “your house has the safest structural foundation. i did the math.”

and just like that, the bed in your room was claimed. caleb flung himself across the cushions like a starfish. “dibs! this whole bed is mine cus i got here first.”

“you’re dripping on the upholstery,” zayne muttered, already rearranging the floor cushions with the precision of a mini architect. “besides, i brought a lamp. and logic.”

“i brought vibes,” caleb snapped back.

the bed was definitely too small. it was meant for one, maybe two if they didn’t mind getting elbowed in the ribs. but three?ridiculous.

“my foot is literally on the floor,” caleb let out a groan, flopping dramatically onto his back, arm flung over his face like some kind of old-timey opera star. “i’m gonna get frostbite and die.”

“your foot is not on the floor,” zayne argued, already facing the wall, blanket pulled over his ear. “and scientifically speaking, that’s not even how frostbite works indoors.”

“okay, mr. dictionary. then explain why i’m freezing to death right now.”

“maybe because you won’t stop moving like a hyperactive penguin,” you sided with zayne, wedged miserably between the two of them, blanket riding up your legs, one sock missing. “also, who kicks in their sleep?!”

“not me,” caleb said.

“definitely you,” zayne and you answered at the same time. “you’re a danger to national sleep.”

caleb turned his face into the pillow to muffle a laugh. “you sound like a sleep robot.”

“you sound like a vacuum,” zayne mumbled, deadpan. “loud, and constantly in the way.”

you snorted, and caleb immediately elbowed you lightly. “hey, don’t take his side!”

“i’m not taking sides,” you shoved him back. “i’m just agreeing with facts.”

caleb gasped. “betrayed. in my own home. wait, this isn’t even my home. betrayal squared.”

zayne let out a tiny breath, maybe a laugh, and shifted. “if you two are done performing shakespeare, maybe we can actually sleep.”

“fine,” caleb muttered. “but if i fall off the bed and die in the night, i hope my ghost haunts you both.”

you reached out blindly and tugged the edge of the blanket over him again. “you won’t.”

“you promise?”

“yeah.”

it was quiet for a bit. just the sound of sheets rustling, of breathing starting to slow. then, caleb’s voice, soft and already sleepy: “…you’re not cold, right?”

zayne didn’t answer immediately. then, barely above a whisper: “not if you stop hogging the covers.”

you smiled into the dark. it took a while, but eventually, you all settled, limbs tangled, breathing steady, three messy little universes orbiting one too-small bed.

and even though someone would probably fall off in the middle of the night, for now… it was enough. your tiny, chaotic world, all tucked in under the same old quilt.

during the day of caleb's football game, you were there.

the sun was hot in that way that made your scalp itch. metal bleachers burned the backs of your thighs, and the little paper fan in your hand was doing next to nothing. still, you sat there, legs swinging, a half-eaten orange popsicle clutched in your palm with your eyes trained on the field.

caleb stood out immediately.

maybe it was the way his jersey stuck to him, number 12 plastered to his back in grass-stained white. or the way his hair, damp from warm-ups, curled slightly at the ends. his socks were mismatched again. always one red stripe, one blue. his coach gave up on him weeks ago.

but when he ran?

you forgot about everything else.

the way his body moved, loose and fast and sharp with energy, it made your heart do this weird thud thing in your chest. and then he grinned across the field, squinting into the bleachers like he was looking for someone.

you waved, stupidly. almost jumping off the bleachers with your bagpack bouncing behind your back.

then, he saw.

caleb’s smile widened. “found her,” he mouthed, before jogging back into formation.

you bit into your popsicle.

“so.” a voice beside you sounded, seemingly sounding like it belonged to somebody you know too well, his tone was flat and unimpressed.

you turned, nearly dropping your popsicle out of surprise.

zayne stood beside the bleachers, one strap of his backpack slung over one shoulder, a stack of thick books tucked against his chest. his button-down shirt was too neat for a saturday, and there was a pencil behind his ear like he forgot it was even there.

his hair, black and just slightly too long, was falling into his eyes again. he didn't fix it this time, like he was more worried about something in particular.

“...zayne?”

he looked straight at you, not unkind, just... unreadable. he always looked like he was solving a problem in his head. “i thought,” he glanced down, then quietly, “you were coming to the science fair.”

your stomach dropped a little. “i- i wanted to. but caleb’s game... he, um, he said he’d be really upset if i missed this one, and—”

“i see.” he shifted, averting his gaze to the game at the bottom. “it’s not a big deal.”

you winced. “zayne, i'm sorry...”

he didn’t answer. instead, he climbed up the bleachers, sat beside you, with the books stacked neatly on his lap. his shoulder barely brushed yours.

you sat in silence for a moment, before the roar of the crowd reverbated throughout the vicinity. the whistle blew, caleb’s voice rang across the field, laughing, cheering.

“he’s good,”

you nodded, quietly. “yeah.”

“i built a robot that follows voice commands back at the science fair,” he said a second later, eyes still on the game. “it waved when i told it to.”

your head whipped to look at him, and he didn’t meet your gaze. but his lips quirked, just barely. “you’re the only one it listened to, though.”

you tried to keep your eyes on the game. you really did.

but zayne was talking, and while he talked, he had this way of pulling you in like you were inside the blueprint of his brain. he pointed at his sketchbook now, flipping past careful diagrams and scribbled notes

“and then here,” he murmured, “i rigged the infrared sensor to- wait, no, see this?” you leaned closer, feeling how his shoulder was warm against yours. “that’s where it malfunctioned,” he added, tapping the corner of the paper with the side of his finger. “but i fixed it. i rerouted the code.”

you smiled. “you’re really smart, you know that?”

he looked at you then. really looked.

your breath caught, not because it was romantic, not exactly. but because zayne, your zayne, looked like someone who’d outgrown his baby face without telling you. his lashes were darker than you remembered.

“i’m just trying stuff,” he pursed his lips together, blinking slowly, “doesn’t mean it’s good.”

you shook your head. “it is!”

on the field, you weren't aware that caleb had scored again. the crowd burst into cheers while you didn’t. you didn’t even look.

caleb’s head turned toward the bleachers, expecting your face, expecting your grin, your thumbs-up, the kind of cheer he only cared about when it came from you. but instead... you were hunched beside zayne, whispering and smiling. like he wasn’t even there.

his stomach twisted.

he jogged back, tossing the ball between his hands with a bit more force now. his eyes didn’t leave the two of you.

caleb narrowed his eyes when he catches you giggling at something zayne said, leaning in closer to hear him better through the cheers.

and then he hurled the ball too far, too high, directly toward the bleachers.

right at zayne.

it landed with a loud thunk against the metal rail, bouncing down and nearly smacking zayne in the knee. “oops!” caleb called, cupping his hands around his mouth. “sorry!”

you both turned, startled. you looked down at the field, at caleb. and he was grinning too wide that it reached his eyes.

“guess i missed,” he added, voice bright and sharp like a joke with teeth.

sixteen was strange. not in a dramatic, movie-kind-of-way, but strange in the small, quiet shifts. like how caleb didn’t always wait at your locker anymore,

or how zayne stopped answering texts right away because he was “studying,”

even though you knew it probably meant he was tired or stressed. or avoiding something he couldn’t name.

you were still a trio, sure. but the threads were looser now. like someone had tugged too hard at one corner, and no one knew how to weave it back.

zayne had books under his arm constantly, a pencil always behind his ear. he talked about scholarships and internships and universities you hadn’t even heard of yet.

sometimes he forgot to look up when you waved. though sometimes he didn’t forget, he just pretended to.

caleb had his team. he walked different now, with a swagger he never used to have, like he’d grown into himself a little too fast. he laughed louder in hallways you weren’t standing in. sometimes you’d pass him and he’d smell like sweat and cologne and someone else’s perfume.

and you... you were trying not to be too obvious. not to sit too close. not to ask too much. because at sixteen, people started assuming things. and you didn’t want to mess anything up.

not with zayne, who still offered his umbrella when it rained. not with caleb, who still flicked your forehead when you zoned out too long.

you were careful now, too careful.

because you still saw them as your brothers. just caleb and zayne. nothing more. nothing less.

but sometimes, in the way they looked at you in hallways and crowds, you started to wonder if they still saw you the same way.

the rain had been falling since last period, but you didn’t realize how hard until you were already halfway to the gate with no umbrella and nowhere to run. now you were tucked under a narrow shed behind the gym, cold water dripping from your elbows, while your uniform clung to places you didn’t want it to.

you wrapped your arms around yourself. not from the chill, really. but from how aware you were of how your soaked shirt left nothing to the imagination. your skirt wasn’t doing much better even. if someone saw you right now…

“you shouldn’t be standing out like that.”

you jumped at the voice, breath catching in your throat.

zayne stood just a few steps away. he didn’t look like he’d run through the rain. he looked perfectly composed, and his umbrella hovered neatly above him, barely a drop on his shoulders. he wore his uniform right, as always.

he looked at you, and his gaze slipped downward to your chest, your skirt, your trembling thighs... then it snapped back up like he hadn’t meant to. but you saw it, and he knew you saw it.

you tried not to shift under his stare. “i didn’t plan to... get stuck.”

“obviously.”

he hesitated, then stepped under the shed, offering the umbrella out to you. his fingers brushed yours when you took it, lingering a bit too long. “i’ll walk you home.”

“it's alright, you don’t have to—”

“i want to.” he said it too fast, and when you looked at him, you couldn't quite decipher the expression he wore on his face, but you could see how his ears grew pink.

the umbrella barely covered both of you, so he stood close, closer than before. shoulder to shoulder, arm to arm. every time he adjusted the angle to cover more of you, his fingers brushed yours.

your shirt was soaked through and completely transparent that you didn’t even need a mirror to know. zayne definitely didn’t mention it, but he wasn’t breathing the same way either. a little too shallow. his jaw clenched every time you moved, like he was trying not to look again.

and maybe that made it worse. that he was trying.

when a breeze blew and your skirt shifted, his hand shot out to catch the umbrella. that’s what it looked like. but it brushed your lower back on the way. and then he didn’t move it right away.

“sorry,” he muttered, voice lower.

you didn’t answer.

your house appeared too soon. zayne stepped up onto the porch with you, water dripping off the umbrella. he still didn’t say anything about the way your shirt clung to your chest, or how your thighs were practically visible through the skirt.

he just glanced once more, and then looked away, harder this time. “are you okay?” he asked. it came out rougher than he probably meant it to.

“yeah. thanks for walking with me.”

his jaw shifted again. “mhm, of course.”

you waited, expecting him to turn back down the path. but he didn’t, not right away.

so you offered softly, “do you wanna come in?”

his eyes lifted to yours. “i probably shouldn’t,”

the rain hadn’t let up.

zayne sat alone on the couch, damp blazer folded neatly beside him, with his hair still a little wet and curling at the ends. the television was on, but low. he wasn’t watching it, instead he was listening to the faint shuffle of your footsteps upstairs, the creak of your door, the sound of drawers opening and closing.

he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped so tightly his knuckles were white. it wasn’t cold, but he felt restless. like his body didn’t quite know where to place itself in your house anymore.

and when you came downstairs again, changed into a loose shirt that hung too soft on your frame, shorts that showed just a little too much skin, he almost forgot to breathe again.

“are you feeling alright now?” you asked, drying your hair with a towel, casual like nothing had changed.

zayne cleared his throat, “what? mm. yes, i’m fine.”

you flopped beside him, your thigh brushing his before tossing the towel on the armrest. “it’s boring,” you said, settling back, curling one leg beneath you. “let’s just talk or something.”

talk.

zayne didn’t trust his voice for a second.

he turned to look at you, and that was a mistake, because you looked so relaxed. too relaxed. and your shirt had slid a little off one shoulder, exposing skin he absolutely should not be looking at.

his gaze dropped, snapped back up, then his adam's apple bobbed up to down. “sure,” he managed, voice strained.

you smiled. and that made it worse. “why’re you so stiff?”

“i’m not stiff.”

“you’re literally sitting like you’re being held hostage.”

“i’m—” he laughed, short and tense. “i’m just trying to be respectful.”

you tilted your head. “respectful?”

he cleared his throat again and looked away. “nevermind.”

you pulled your knees up onto the couch, wrapping your arms around them as you watched zayne pretend to be interested in the tv. the air was still damp from the rain. he was sitting a cushion away, but it felt like a mile, or an inch. you couldn’t tell.

“you’re acting weird, zayne.”

zayne didn’t answer at first. his jaw clenched a little, eyes flicking to the tv and then, briefly, to your legs curled up beside him. “it's important to be cautious.”

“cautious?”

he nodded, still not looking at you.

you shifted slightly. “since when did that start being a thing between us?”

he finally turned, and you wished he hadn’t, because his eyes were so focused that it made your stomach twist in some unfamiliar way. “since now.”

you wet your lips, heart thudding. “what… what does that mean?”

he leaned back just a little, exhaling like he was debating with himself. then he reached out, slow, fingers brushing lightly over your cheek. “when we were kids,” he murmured, “i could touch you like this.”

his fingers drifted down to your shoulder, and your skin prickled under the contact. you hated how aware you suddenly were of everything. how close he was, how warm his hand felt on your skin.

“or here,” he voice dropped to a whisper, letting his hand pause on your arm.

his gaze dropped to your thighs, and you could almost combust from the amount of tension he's giving you. his fingers gently grazed your knee, then up to where your shorts ended. “and even here.”

your breath hitched. you didn’t mean for it to, but it did. his hand lingered a second too long, while you couldn’t look away from him.

then he pulled away, sharply. as if he had already decided for the moment to snap. “but now that i’m a teenager,” he paused. “it’s different.”

your chest rose and fell a little faster than it should’ve. “…different doesn’t always mean bad,” you suggested, voice quieter than before. you didn't know if that was an offer hidden in innocence, you hadn't meant it that way. but if zayne would accept it, you wouldn't complain either.

—

caleb [6:12pm]: practice just ended. you free? swing by. door’s open.

you stared at it for a moment longer than necessary, thumb hovering above the screen. the message was just casual, as if he hadn’t just been giving you space for the last few weeks. as if the three of you hadn’t started orbiting different stars lately.

you typed back. it's been a while, after all.

you [6:14pm]: yeah. omw.

the dorm building was already shadowed by the time you arrived. it was quieter now. dinner hour, probably. the air still smelled faintly of liniment and detergent, like it always did when you passed by the practice wing. you made your way up the stairs, familiar enough to not get lost but still unsure why your heart was beating faster with every step.

you didn’t knock. you only pushed the door gently, peeking in. “caleb?”

no answer.

you stepped in anyway, and paused. because the view was rather... something. he had his back to you, shirtless.

his shoulders were broad, not the lanky mess they used to be in middle school. they were much more... defined now. his back glistened with leftover sweat, and there were jagged, smudged bruises, patches of violet and red, splayed across his shoulder blades like careless brushstrokes.

he was digging through his gym bag, towel slung around his neck, muttering something under his breath about his socks.

you froze.

and maybe you should’ve said something, or made a sound, but your voice caught somewhere in your chest. not out of shock, not even embarrassment. it was just… you didn’t expect him to look like that.

not looking like your childhood best friend.

then he turned, eyes locking with yours. and for a split second, both of you just stared at each other. “damn, you’re fast.”

“you’re shirtless!”

“yeah?” he tossed the towel onto the bed like it meant nothing. “i live here.”

you stepped in, closing the door behind you. “you’re also… bruised.”

“yeah,” he muttered, shrugging one shoulder with a wince. “scrimmage got rough. elbows, knees, pride. everything took a hit.”

he grinned like it was fine, like it didn’t hurt at all. but still, you stepped closer in an attempt to check them out. “does it still sting?”

he tilted his head, staring down at you. only then you got to realize the height difference both of you had, he was practically towering over you already. “you gonna kiss it better?”

you rolled your eyes. “you’re insufferable as always.”

“but you came,” he shot back, half-sitting on the bed. “so maybe i’m still charming enough.”

sigh.

"do you have any ointment?" you asked softly, eyes scanning the mottled bruises on his back. caleb paused, then nodded toward the drawer by his bed.

you then moved to get it. the dorm room felt smaller now, more tender. maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t put a shirt on, or maybe it was the fact that neither of you had really spoken like this in weeks.

you returned and sat behind him so you could have better access to his back. “you sure 'bout this?” you asked, uncapping the ointment. “it might sting.”

he finally glanced back, eyes lidded, a breath of a smirk on his lips. “only if you’re rough.”

you snorted and dipped your fingers into the ointment. “what a baby.”

“only for you.”

you hesitated, caught off guard by his sudden flirting. he had always been like this ever since you were nine, and yet you couldn't help but recall what zayne had told you the other day. about how now that you're teenagers, the things that you used to normalize back in childhood feel different. then, you touched the first bruise, right below his shoulder blade. he hissed lightly in response.

“sorry,” you murmured.

he only shook his head. “nah, keep going.”

so you did. slow, gentle, spreading the cool gel across angry purples and dusky reds. your fingertips followed the slope of his back, avoiding the worse scrapes. it was quiet for a moment, until you spoke. “zayne said you bailed on cooking last night.”

caleb exhaled through his nose. “i didn’t bail. practice ran long and coach kept us past curfew.”

“you could’ve at least texted.”

“what, and ruin your alone time with him?”

you glanced at him. “...you sound bitter.”

“do i?” he didn’t say anything else. you kept your hand still against his back, watching his posture. the muscles under your fingers had tensed slightly. “you two talk a lot lately,” he added after a pause.

“we’re just catching up.”

“right.”

you moved to the next bruise. this one was higher, closer to his spine. he inhaled a little when your fingers touched the spot, and for a moment, you didn’t say anything either.

then you asked, “why don't you hang out like before anymore?”

“...we do.”

“doesn't seem like it.”

you didn’t mean to freeze.

but caleb turning around to face you with a half-grin, all mischief, kind of knocked the air out of you. the cut that he showed wasn’t deep, just a thin angry line over his chest, but he acted like it was life-threatening.

“hey,” he gestured, cocking his head. “wanna earn your nurse badge today?”

“you’re ridiculous,” your fingers hovered over the ointment tube, heart pounding like you were diffusing a bomb instead of treating a scrape.

“you’re taking forever,” he teased.

“maybe i should just leave it to get infected.”

“i dare you.”

you rolled your eyes and finally pressed the cream to his skin. his chest was warm under your touch, taut with muscle but still faintly bruised. he didn’t flinch, neither did he look away.

you, on the other hand, couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes.

until you did.

he was staring. not in a teasing way now, but in that way that made your whole brain short-circuit. he looked at you like he could see something you weren’t even sure you were showing.

then, without warning, he caught your wrist in his hand.

“you’re already sixteen, right pipsqueak?” he suddenly asks, voice dropping to an octave. “it’s impossible you don’t got a crush yet.”

you blinked up at him. he was close, close enough that you could count the lashes of his eyes, close enough to smell the faint citrus of his body wash. he smirked, just a little. “do you?”

your heart was doing that annoying thing again, thudding against your ribs like it was trying to make a break for it. his hand was still lightly around your wrist, and your mouth felt dry.

“i-i don’t like anyone,” you finally blurted, the words tumbling out too fast and defensive.

caleb’s brows rose, stretching his grin. “ohhh?” he leaned in slightly, tilting his head like he was trying to read something written on your face. “you sure about that?”

you scowled, heat crawling up your neck. “yes.”

“positive?”

“yes.”

he couldn't keep a straight face anymore as he gave out a knowing laugh and leaned back, finally releasing your wrist. “alright, alright. calm down, pips. i believe you.”

you rolled your eyes, pressing the ointment lid back on like it personally offended you.

but then caleb stood up with a stretch, ruffling his already-messy hair. “anyway,” he said, tone suddenly lighter, like that weird moment didn’t just happen. “how ‘bout we crash zayne’s place tonight? for dinner or something.”

“really?”

“like old times.” he glanced at you, shrugging a shoulder. “we haven’t done that in a while, right? bet he’s still hoarding those weird triangle sandwiches he thinks are gourmet.”

you let out a small laugh despite the aftertaste of your nerves. “you just want free food.”

“damn right i do,” he grinned. “but also… maybe i kinda miss the trio. just a little.”

you nodded slowly. “yeah. me too.”

caleb grabbed his hoodie from the desk chair and tossed it over his shoulder. “cool. c’mon then. let’s go bother the genius.”

—

the table was already set when you arrived, neatly arranged dishes with zayne’s unmistakable touch. curry rice, roasted vegetables, those weird triangle sandwiches caleb joked about, and even your favorite juice poured into mismatched cups.

zayne was wearing his usual cardigan and pajama pants, sleeves pushed up, hair a bit messy from cooking, but still frustratingly put-together. “you’re late,” he said with a straight face as you walked in, but there was a flicker of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

caleb strolled in behind you, tossing his bag on the floor. “yeah, yeah, blame basketball. you should be glad we even showed up, chef.”

zayne scoffed, already sitting down. “if i knew you were coming, i would’ve made extra protein powder stew.”

you snorted. “gross.”

“don’t give him ideas,” caleb replied as he plopped down across from zayne, stealing a piece of bread. “so, did you cook all this just to show off or something?”

zayne didn’t look at him. “i cooked because she always liked this combo,” said he, eyes flicking to you instead.

that made you blink, and caleb paused mid-chew.

“…right,” caleb muttered, clearing his throat. “well, i bet she liked my game-winning shot yesterday too. y’know, if she even saw it.”

zayne raised an eyebrow. “you mean the one you landed after ignoring your coach’s strategy and almost spraining your ankle?”

“oh, so you were watching?” caleb grinned, teeth showing. “that’s cute.”

you sat down slowly between them, feeling the air shift. what was supposed to be friendly banter had the undertone of something else now. there were too many sideway glances, too many moments when they were both speaking to each other, but their attention kept bouncing to you.

zayne passed you a plate. “are you okay? you look flushed.”

you nodded quickly. “just hungry.”

caleb leaned on his elbow. “you always get red when you're caught in the middle. c’mon, say it, who’s the better cook?”

you choked on your juice.

zayne didn’t smile. “don’t pressure her.”

“oh?” caleb leaned back, stretching, the hem of his shirt lifting just slightly. “scared of the answer?”

zayne finally looked at him with squinted eyes. “not really. but some of us don’t need validation every second.”

you reached for the rice, trying to drown yourself in the meal. both of them had grown taller, deeper voices with sharper gazes. and suddenly, this wasn’t just dinner anymore.

you missed when things were simple.

"you know, if we’re rating effort," caleb added, "mine would’ve been a five-star takeout. but nooo, zayne had to go full iron chef."

“that’s because i actually care if our internal organs make it past tonight.”

“please,” caleb rolled his eyes, “you burned toast until you were twelve.”

“i was experimenting,”

you took a bite of the stir-fry, trying not to laugh. “it’s good. really.”

that was all it took. "she said my dish was good," zayne turned with the faintest smirk.

“your dish?” caleb leaned forward on the table. “who do you think helped slice those vegetables? oh, right, me. with these very hands,” he held up his fingers like they were divine.

“you almost sliced your thumb.”

“but i didn’t.”

zayne sighed. “if we’re going there, who carried your groceries when your arms were sore from practice?”

caleb scoffed, “who ran across campus with your laptop when you forgot it before a big test?”

“who fixed your wi-fi?”

“who held your hair back when you puked in eighth grade?”

"who helped you rehearse that weird

speech for student council in ninth?"

they were both leaning closer across the table now, eyes locked together as their egos continuously inflated by the second. you watched like a spectator at the world’s dumbest showdown, until their focus now shifted onto you, now throwing the ball at your court.

“who’s the better listener?”

“who’s more supportive?”

“who makes you laugh more?”

“who’s more dependable?”

and then...

“who’s the better kisser?”

the silence was instant.

zayne blinked.

caleb's eyes widened.

your fork clattered onto the plate.

“…i haven’t kissed either of you,” you blurted, eyes darting between them.

so, caleb leaned back, suddenly fascinated by the ceiling. while zayne stared at his glass of water like it held the secrets of the universe.

for a moment, you couldn't speak. you could only keep your eyes glued on the empty plate before you, as if counting the leftover crumbs grazed along the surface. you tightened your grip around your spoon, biting your lower lip. your heart's thudding again, cause you have always pushed that thought away.

what thought? even now, you still did.

the thought of recognizing that there might be something beyond the threads of your sibling relationship. even though they were really just your childhood bestfriends, you were used to seeing them as your brothers. and now... the thought of kissing them was brought to the table.

you gulped, trying to shift your gaze anywhere, but instead landing on caleb, who's been staring at you for quite some time already. when your eyes met, he instantly glances down.

"how old are you now, [name]?" suddenly, you heard zayne speak from the other side. you look up at him, locking eyes with his emerald ones.

it took you a while to answer, trying to process the odd question. you could also feel caleb's eyes on you too, as if anticipating as well. "sixteen," you finally say, but you sounded so serious you didn't like it. "you attend my birthday every day, i mean, every year. how could you not know?"

your attempt at making the situation lighthearted was futile, as both boys remained expressionless. zayne spoke again, "you're turning seventeen next month."

you and caleb watched him in curiosity, trying to figure out the intent behind his words. he continued, "your age seems appropriate enough for... kissing. so, who's the best kisser, you say?" zayne finally averts his gaze away from you to focus on caleb.

caleb eyes him back, his two fingers resting on his philtrum. you noticed his ears turning red, as both men stared at each other in contemplative silence, as if they were telepathically sending messages.

and you were just there, clueless. you stand up, the chair making a loud sound against the floor. "i'll go- wash the dishes."

zayne barely flinched at the sound of the chair scraping, but his voice came quick, like it had been waiting. “leave it. i’ll do it later.”

you blinked, halfway turned toward the sink. “but—”

“sit down, girl.” caleb interrupted, softer than usual. he was still leaning back, hand now dangling over the edge of his chair, knuckles tapping lightly against the wood. his eyes flicked to yours and held them there. “it’s not like we’re gonna bite.”

you stared between them, and your fingers twitched against your thigh, but you sat back down, carefully. as if lowering yourself into a dream you weren’t sure you wanted to have.

“sorry,” you said, mostly to break the tension. “that was weird.”

“no,” zayne replied, sharp but low. “it’s not weird. it’s…” he trailed off, sighing through his nose, then leaning his arms onto the table. “you were the one who always said things would change. remember?”

caleb scoffed. “she was also the one who said she’d never date either of us ‘cause we were like… family.”

you looked at him, startled by the precision of the memory. his lips quirked, but there was no real smile behind it.

“you were eleven,” zayne muttered, almost to himself. “and we were idiots.”

“still are,” caleb added, shrugging.

zayne looked at him. caleb looked back.

again, that quiet stare-off. and again, your pulse picked up.

your throat felt dry. “you guys…” your voice faltered. “you’re not actually expecting me to answer that question, right? about the kiss?”

silence.

then, zayne leaned in slightly, “you don’t have to answer.” his eyes flicked to your lips. “but if you ever wonder… it’s not something we’d ever take lightly.”

caleb sat forward now too, “not a joke, pipsqueak. not this one.”

you looked down at your lap, hands clenched. “...i do wonder.” you weren’t even sure why you said it. maybe it was the silence. maybe it was the way they were both looking at you like you were something they couldn’t quite hold yet. maybe it was the way your heart had been thudding in your ears for minutes now, demanding some kind of release.

“you wonder,” caleb echoed, and his voice dropped. “about me? or him?”

"caleb." zayne warned.

"what?"

“…i don’t know,” you muttered. “both of you, i guess.”

the air fractured again. and this time, it stayed silent long enough that you had to look up. caleb’s brows were raised, lips parted like he hadn’t expected honesty. zayne’s mouth was pressed into a thin line, but his ears were pink.

caleb's voice cut through the stillness like a blade. “you can get your answer right now.”

your breath hitched. you looked at him, eyes wide, heart ricocheting off your ribs. "that's not- i didn't mean-"

“you sure?” caleb interrupted, a hint of seriousness blending in with his usual mischief. "because if you really wanna know, i'm not gonna pretend i haven’t thought about it too.”

you couldn’t look away. caleb was still there, waiting, giving you an out, but not backing down either.

he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and his voice dropped even lower. “you’re sixteen, pipsqueak. you feel things. and we’re not kids anymore. maybe it’s okay to stop pretending we are.”

zayne’s footsteps were quiet but firm as he stood up to gather the plates, standing right behind your chair. “or maybe,” he said slowly, “we’re not going to pressure her into anything just because we’re feeling bold tonight.”

“i’m not pressuring,” caleb replied. “i’m offering. there’s a difference.”

these weren't the same boys that you chased frogs with back in your childhood summer.

the words left your lips before you could even think them through. "then... i'll take that offer right now." you couldn't take it back now. you couldn't even back out of it.

"you sure about that?" caleb's voice was a little hushed, as if he didn’t want to push too hard. you could feel zayne's presence radiating behind you too.

"yeah," you whispered, your voice trembling ever so slightly, but there was a sense of resolution in it. "i think i am."

the room grew even quieter, only the sound of your own breath and the slight shift of the chairs beneath you breaking the stillness.

caleb didn’t speak at first. he simply stared at you, like he was waiting for you to change your mind. but you didn’t. he let out a low breath, a small smile playing on his lips. “alright then, pipsqueak. you know what you're getting into?” he pulls the legs of your chair closer.

before either of them could say anything else, you broke the moment by standing up abruptly, hands brushing your clothes nervously. "well, i—"

"hey, no running away." caleb’s voice was playful, but there was something darker beneath it, a promise you weren’t sure you were ready to face.

zayne’s hand landed gently on your shoulder, guiding you back into your seat. his touch was reassuring but left a warmth that lingered, a contrast to the uncertainty that was swirling inside you. “don’t act like you’re going anywhere. you started this.”

right, yeah, you did start this somehow. you also would be lying if you said you weren't curious of how far would this go if you explored just a little further.

you glanced at caleb, but his eyes weren't on you. instead, they were on zayne. he was giving him a look that you couldn't decipher, but you could tell it was one that held an intent beneath.

slowly, you turn your head to look up at zayne still standing behind your chair. he looks down at you, but he doesn't speak. and then, you feel fingers grazing your jawline. and you're pretty sure it's not zayne's.

the grip on your jawline gets more forceful, and before you could look at the one who it belonged to, you feel a pair of lips press on yours. a yelp got stuck in your throat, and your hands instinctively find their way onto caleb's shoulders.

was he a good kisser? you couldn't tell. you didn't have experience anyway. caleb was only pressing his lips deeper, sometimes using his tongue, you weren't sure if it's right, but you were sure about the effect it had on you.

and caleb? he had his eyes shut tight, breathing desperately like he'd been waiting for this to happen. cupping your face tenderly because you've been the only girl in his mind, the only girl his body had been aching to have.

he pulled away, not because he's had enough, but because he was afraid that he might touch you somewhere else if he kept on going. his eyes flickered to your body, before going back into your eyes. for a second, you saw something raw pass through his façade, something vulnerable.

before you could even make it out, another pair of lips were already on yours again. from zayne's position, he bent over to give you a pick, pulling away to check on your expression, and when he saw the way you stared into his eyes, he dives in again.

caleb watched, his eyes followed the way your lips tried to keep up with zayne's pace. then, he interrupts, "you're enjoying it a bit too much." which pulled you and zayne both out of the trance.

your lips parted as you slowly leaned back, breath shallow, heartbeat loud in your ears. it was like time stalled. there was no ceiling fan, no ticking clock, no leftover dinner scent. just the phantom of both their lips against yours.

you didn’t know what you expected. fireworks? a spark? maybe clarity?

instead, it was a storm. a tangled rush of confusion and heat, of everything that shouldn’t be real suddenly becoming too real.

"so...?" zayne spoke, “was that enough for a verdict?”

you swallowed. “i…”

you didn’t know what to say.

because how could you weigh something like that? how could you explain the butterflies and the guilt, the thrill and the ache? how could you admit that for the first time, you weren’t sure if you were still just childhood friends anymore?

and ever since that night, something cracked between the three of you.

you didn’t talk about the kiss. no one did.

but you felt it in the way caleb stopped sending random memes to your inbox, in the way zayne no longer waited for you by your classroom door after school. the group chats fell quiet. the little traditions, the teasing, the banter, the familiarity. it all faded into something strained and tiptoed around.

at first, you told yourself it was just a phase. that maybe everyone was busy, that things would snap back eventually. but the silence dragged on.

one night, you opened your messages to see two unread texts. one from caleb. one from zayne. both were apology messages from the kiss that happened between the three of you. you read them both in the dim glow of your bedroom, but you didn’t reply. not because you didn’t want to, but because you didn’t know how.

you started to notice it in the small things first. the way caleb would be walking down the hall with his teammates and suddenly glance the other way when he saw you approaching. the way zayne, who used to brush his shoulder against yours in crowded corridors just for the excuse to say something dumb under his breath, now passed by like you were a stranger in a crowd.

they didn’t talk to you. they didn’t even look at you.

at first, you tried not to let it bother you. maybe they were just giving you space. maybe they were waiting for you to say something first. but then the days stretched on. and the silence felt less like patience and more like avoidance.

and it stung. more than you wanted to admit. because they were the ones who crossed the line. they were the ones who leaned in first, who kissed you, who said things with their eyes they couldn’t take back. so why were you the one left behind?

you were twenty-one now.

a different kind of grown-up, one with a job to keep, bills to pay, and a life that had settled into its own rhythm. it wasn’t the one you imagined back when you were sixteen, wide-eyed and fumbling through emotions too big for your chest. but it was stable and manageable.

still, in quiet moments, in the pause between your third sip of coffee and your laptop screen flickering awake, they crossed your mind.

caleb and zayne.

they’d both gone abroad. scholarships, dreams, ambitions you always knew were bigger than the small town you all came from.you weren’t surprised. they were always meant for more.

sometimes, you’d get a text. zayne asking if your mom’s garden was still alive, or caleb forwarding a photo of an old arcade machine you all used to fight over.

but it was always brief and distant. like you were all just family friends now, tethered only by history.

you had tried to date other people, and though some were sweet, others were exciting, none of them ever made you feel the way you did at seventeen, sitting between two boys who once made you believe the world could burn just from how close they stood to you.

no one ever matched the heat of caleb’s teasing gaze or the weight of zayne’s quiet stares.

no one ever made your heart stutter the way it did when they asked who’s the better kisser? as if the question wasn’t going to ruin you all.

and maybe that’s why you were still alone now. not because you couldn’t love, but because you knew what it felt like to be loved too much, too young, and all at once.

you wondered if they ever thought about it too. about you. about what the three of you were before the silence set in.

you were slicing carrots when your mother told you, half-casually, like it was nothing,

"zayne and caleb are flying home tomorrow. their families are throwing a welcome party."

you blinked, the knife pausing mid-air.

"they're… coming back?"

"mm-hm," she said, too focused on kneading dough to notice the way your breath hitched. "i already told them you'd cook something for the welcome table. they’re expecting your lasagna. and maybe that buttered chicken too. you know, your usual."

your usual. the one you used to cook for them.

you didn’t argue. instead, you found yourself in the kitchen the next day, apron on, ingredients lined up like a ritual. your hands moved on instinct, muscle memory from years of doing this for them. back when dinners were chaotic and filled with dumb jokes, competitive card games, and stolen glances over the rim of your glass.

you stirred the sauce and kept your focus low, trying not to think about it. trying not to count how long it had been since you saw their faces in person. how long since zayne last ruffled your hair like he used to, or caleb leaned over too close, grinning like he knew what you were thinking.

then the front door creaked open.

and you listened to the way laughter spilled in, the way the families greeted in unison to welcome them back. and you hear caleb's laughter, which made you stop on your tracks. it was much more manly now.

from the kitchen, you stayed half-hidden behind the archway. wooden spoon in hand, apron dusted with flour and sauce. you were supposed to be checking the oven, maybe chopping the rest of the bell peppers, but instead you stood frozen in place, eyes locked on the scene unfolding in the living room.

caleb was laughing, his voice louder than the rest, ruffling zayne’s little brother’s hair like he never left, then turning to dab up with one of the uncles who slapped his back in greeting. his presence was loud and unmistakably him. maybe it was the colonel uniform hugging his frame, the silver necklace glinting against his chest, the way he carried himself with that trained, effortless authority. god, he looked good.

your gaze shifted.

zayne was across the room, kneeling beside your grandmother’s seat, speaking with her in that quiet, earnest tone that made people naturally lean closer. his white coat was unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up just slightly, and even from where you stood, you could tell that he’d grown into his face. sharper jaw, broader shoulders. handsome in a way that made your heart fumble a little too hard in your chest.

and then, his eyes lifted, before finding you.

you quickly looked away, busying yourself with the spoon in your hand, stirring nothing in a pot that didn’t even need it.

because you couldn’t trust your face to not show how you were suddenly burning.

after a few more minutes of pretending not to notice them and pretending even harder not to feel anything, you set down the final dish. a hearty beef stew still steaming from the pot. wiping your hands on your apron, you called out, “alright, last dish is ready!”

the room erupted in cheers, your aunts already passing out utensils and your cousins hollering your name like you were some celebrity chef. you smiled sheepishly, bowing a little as people complimented the spread. you took your usual seat beside your mom, grateful for the buffer of familiar comfort. but just as you picked up your fork, your mom stood to help grandma to the buffet.

before you could blink, caleb slid into the now-empty seat beside you.

and then zayne, wordless and quiet as ever, took the one on the other side.

you froze, eyes locked on your plate, heart thudding at the proximity of two very specific colognes, both achingly familiar.

for a moment, none of you said anything.

so, just for politeness, and maybe survival, you cleared your throat and forced a small smile. “…hey, you two.” you didn’t dare look at them directly, not yet.

but you heard the shift in caleb’s posture, the way his voice dipped low in that teasing lilt. “hey, pipsqueak.”

and zayne, ever so composed, “it’s been a while.”

yeah. it really, really has.

your fork paused mid-air when one of your aunts leaned forward, glass of wine in hand, “so, caleb. zayne. any girlfriends yet?”

you could’ve sworn the air thinned.

caleb chuckled, low and smooth, leaning back with one arm draped lazily over his chair. “nah. no one’s been able to handle me long-term.” he winked, and the table erupted in laughter. you could feel your shoulders stiffen.

zayne, gave a polite smile and shook his head. “i’ve been too focused on med school to even think about dating.”

“come on,” another aunt chimed in. “not even one? you boys are too good-looking to still be single.”

you didn’t mean to look, but your eyes flicked between them. caleb's smirk was still present, but his gaze, barely, shifted toward you. zayne remained calm, though you caught the way his thumb tapped anxiously against his water glass.

they didn’t answer further. and yet somehow, the silence that followed was louder than the laughter before it.

you were halfway through slicing a piece of roast when caleb, ever the instigator, tilted his head in your direction with a sly grin. “actually,” he said, voice loud enough to slice through the other conversations, “has anyone asked her if she’s got a boyfriend yet?”

you froze, your fork hovering awkwardly in the air. all eyes turned toward you, some playful, some genuinely curious. you forced a smile, trying not to glance at your mom’s reaction or the sparkle of amusement in caleb’s eyes.

“what?” you tried to play dumb, a breathy laugh escaping you. “no one asked.”

“then let me be the first,” he said, folding his arms as he leaned in with mock sincerity. “so? got anyone these days, pipsqueak?”

your throat went dry. you didn’t want to look, but you felt zayne’s gaze like a weight. when you finally dared to glance his way, his brows were relaxed, but he was a bit too focused on you, in an expectant way.

“no,” you answered softly, clearing your throat. “no one serious.”

caleb raised an eyebrow. “so there was someone not serious, huh?”

“guys—” you laughed awkwardly, ducking your head. “can we not?”

you slipped away from the noise the moment no one was looking, carrying the weight of too many glances and questions that clung to you like static. your mom had insisted on washing the dishes herself, brushing you off with a soft smile and a quick, “go rest, you’ve done enough.” so you did.

you took the stairs slowly, the sounds of laughter and familiar music growing fainter with each step. it should’ve felt comforting. but instead, it left a strange hollow space in your chest.

when you reached your room, you didn’t even bother turning on the light. you closed the door gently, then leaned your back against it for a second, just breathing.

then, with a quiet sigh, you crossed the room and sat at the edge of your bed. you stared down at your hands, still smelling faintly of garlic and oil. you tried to focus on that instead of the dinner table. instead of the way both zayne and caleb had looked at you.

your phone buzzed beside you.

you cracked one eye open and reached for it lazily, expecting a family group chat meme or your mom asking if you wanted dessert. instead, it was from caleb.

“come outside.”

you stared at the text for a moment, your thumb hovering. no punctuatio and no context? classic caleb. it made your heart twist in a way you hated still felt familiar.

you sat up, hesitated. but curiosity got the better of you.

you padded down the hallway quietly, slipping past the laughter and the glow of the living room lights. then, you stepped out the front door.

there they were. caleb was in his uniform jacket, arms crossed, looking off into the distance until he noticed you. zayne had his hands in his coat pockets, gaze already fixed on you as if he'd been waiting longer than caleb had texted.

you raised a brow. “what’s this?”

caleb gave a crooked grin. “we’re going to the moth house.”

zayne nodded. “thought we’d check if it’s still alive. it's not so far from here, isn't it?”

the words made something warm stir in your chest. that old place where you'd all sneak off to and swear eternal friendship over moth-eaten pillows and muddy sneakers. a piece of your childhood that still breathed somewhere in the outskirts of this town.

you blinked, then smiled. “seriously?”

“come on,” caleb said, already walking ahead. “you’re not gonna chicken out, are you?”

you rolled your eyes, but your feet moved before you could stop them. “you’re both still idiots,” you mumbled, but you were already smiling too wide.

you ended up running.

it started with caleb nudging you with his shoulder and saying, “last one is a rotten egg,” before sprinting down the familiar dirt path. zayne let out a breath of disbelief—“seriously?”—but took off right after. and you, despite your protests, despite your boots not being made for this, ran too.

just like you used to.

your laughter echoed through the night, tangled with the sound of crunching leaves and pounding footsteps, breathless and utterly alive.

the moth house sat tucked behind the trees, barely visible until you were almost in front of it. a small, forgotten wooden thing, its paint chipped and its roof a little more caved in than you remembered. but the moment you saw it, your breath caught.

it hadn’t changed.

caleb reached it first, pushing the creaky door open. zayne followed, and you arrived last, panting, eyes wide, something nostalgic and aching blooming in your chest.

“still standing,” caleb muttered, stepping inside.

“barely,” zayne added.

it was pitch black inside. the smell of damp wood and dust clung to the air. and then, in true zayne fashion, had been bringing a lamp all along. warm yellow light spilled across the floor and the walls.

you let out a soft gasp. there they were.

the remnants of your old world.

your pink barbie doll, hair tangled and limbs askew, sat against the wall. beside her was one of caleb’s beat-up toy cars, the wheels long gone but the lightning bolt sticker still scratched onto the side. and scattered near the corner, a few torn pages from zayne’s dinosaur encyclopedia, edges curled with time.

“this is insane,” you whispered, stepping further in. “i thought all of this would be gone.”

“guess we left more than we thought,” zayne said quietly.

caleb crouched down near his old toy car, brushing dust off it with the edge of his sleeve. “feels like we were just here last summer, huh?”

you leaned against the wooden wall, the lamp's dim glow casting soft shadows across their faces as they talked. caleb was squatting again, fiddling with his old toy car like it still mattered. zayne had his arms crossed, leaning on the opposite wall, the corners of his mouth occasionally twitching up in amusement at something caleb said.

they weren’t arguing. they weren’t bickering as always like before. they were just… talking.

you watched them like you were outside a glass window, nose pressed to the surface. both of them had become striking in their own way.

you felt your chest tighten. your gaze dropped to the floor, your heart started to pace without permission. because no matter how much older you were now, no matter how long it had been… your mind drifted. to that night. to that stupid kiss.

you hadn’t thought about it in years. or maybe you had, just not out loud. not where it could reach the surface. but here, in the moth house, surrounded by remnants of childhood and all the things you used to be, the memory pulsed.

was it supposed to be forgotten?

just one of those reckless, messy things you all agreed to pretend didn’t happen?

because you never talked about it after.

never got the answer to the question they’d both pushed into the air. and yet here you all were. again. so why did it still feel unfinished?

"i have the answer already." your voice cut through the soft crackle of the old lamp, quiet but clear enough to make them stop mid-conversation. caleb froze, halfway through repositioning the toy car on the floor, while zayne’s head turned slowly, brows knitting with confusion.

“what?” caleb asked, blinking up at you.

you swallowed, suddenly aware of how loud your heartbeat was. then, you looked down, and then back up, steadying yourself. “the... ‘who’s the better kisser’ thing,” you clarified, and your voice, though small, left no room for misunderstanding.

and just like that, stillness came.

zayne’s expression didn’t change at first, he just stood straighter. then you noticed the subtle shift in his eyes, locked onto you like he was trying to pick apart your thoughts, decode every layer behind your words.

caleb didn’t even try to hide his reaction. he blinked once, twice, before sitting back on his heels and leaning forward slightly, as if you’d just challenged him to a match. his smirk didn’t appear, but the intensity behind his stare said enough.

they were both looking at you now. hard.

not with confusion anymore.

no. this was something heavier. like possession. like the past had suddenly started breathing again, crawling back to life.

neither of them said a word yet. but you could tell that they wanted to know, and they weren’t planning on letting it go. not this time.

"so..." caleb finally said. "who is it?"

and zayne’s gaze didn’t waver.

"you're both good kissers!" the words left your lips before you could take them back. a soft, honest confession. you didn’t even say it to provoke. you just... told the truth.

silence followed.

caleb blinked at you, wide-eyed for a second. and then, he huffed out a breath, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. a short, breathy laugh slipped from him, like he couldn’t believe what he just heard. “silly girl.” he muttered, running a hand through his hair, clearly trying to keep himself from grinning too much.

zayne didn’t laugh. he just looked down, hands shoved in the pockets of his coat. you watched his lashes lower, his brows pinch, his lips pressed tight like he was trying to suppress something. either a sigh, a thought, or the quiet bruising of his own pride.

no one spoke for a while.

it was almost funny. you’d answered the question they left behind all those years ago. and yet, here they were... grown, taller, stronger, and still just as thrown off by you.

caleb scoffed, shaking his head. “nah, i’m gonna have to disagree with that.”

you looked up at him, blinking. “what—?”

he crossed his arms, gaze narrowed but playful. “you just said that to keep the peace. i call it. no way we were equally good..”

zayne, who’d remained quiet until now, finally lifted his eyes again. boldness, maybe. “he might have a point,” zayne said. “we were teenagers then, and inexperienced. it wasn’t exactly a fair measure.”

you turned to him, startled.

he glanced at caleb, then back at you. “for a real answer, there should be a reevaluation.” he said it plainly, but the weight behind it made your stomach twist.

caleb raised his brows, looking half-impressed and half-annoyed. “oh? you serious, doc?”

“just being thorough,”

your throat went dry. you suddenly weren’t sure if coming to the moth house was such a good idea after all.

you tilted your head slightly, “so… are you saying you have experience now?”

zayne’s lips tugged upward, just a little. “no,” he admitted, stepping forward, slow and sure. “not exactly.” his eyes didn’t leave yours. you could hear caleb shift behind zayne, but he didn’t say a word. he was just watching, waiting.

zayne stopped just a breath away, “do you want to try it again?”

your heart thudded. too fast. too loud. this was real. this was now. and caleb… caleb still hadn’t moved. but you could feel the heat of his stare burning right through you.

before you could even open your mouth to respond, before you could decide what you wanted, zayne muttered a soft curse under his breath. something like “fuck it,” barely audible. then, in one motion, he removed his glasses, carelessly tucking them into his coat pocket, and closed the distance.

his hands were warm when they cupped your cheeks, surprisingly gentle for how impulsive the gesture was. and then, he kissed you.

it was rushed, but deliberate. like he wanted to make sure you felt it, all of it. your fingers twitched at your sides as your eyes fluttered shut, your thoughts melting into the warmth of it.

zayne only pulled away when he had to, just enough to study your expression, forehead still resting against yours. “are you still unsure?”

“n-no,” you barely managed to whisper, your voice caught between your breath and whatever was thundering in your chest.

but that was all zayne needed before he kissed you again. this time, deeper. his hands slipped back to cradle the base of your head as if he didn’t want you pulling away. there was a quiet intensity in the way he moved, like he was making up for lost time, or maybe staking a claim.

you didn’t even notice your hand gripping the front of his coat until your knuckles tightened. everything else blurred out, the creaking of the old moth house, the muffled breath you both shared, even caleb’s presence—

until caleb shifted slightly.

you felt it, a presence behind you.

before you could even react, a pair of lips brushed your shoulder. and a slow burn followed the touch, trailing through the fabric of your shirt like it wasn't even there.

your breath hitched. “caleb…” you whispered, unsure if it was a question or a warning.

“pipsqueak,” he said lowly, voice husky and calm, as if this had always been part of the plan. “we're so sorry.”

as you turned to face caleb, his hand on your hip tightened slightly, pulling you ever so gently but insistently closer. you could feel the heat of his body, the firmness of his chest pressing against your back while he leaned in. you shuddered.

zayne, not to be outdone or left behind, leaned in to capture your lips once more in a searing kiss. one hand slid up to tangle in your hair, tilting your head to grant him better access as his mouth moved over yours with a hunger that stole your breath away.

you found yourself sandwiched between them, the solid wall of caleb's chest at your back and the lean, muscular frame of zayne pressed against your front. you could feel every inch of their bodies, the hard planes and soft curves melding together in a way that set their nerves alight with sensation.

zayne's hand fisted in your hair as he kissed you with a desperate, almost punishing intensity. he tore his mouth away, panting harshly against your lips. "this is dangerous," he rasped, his voice strained with barely restrained desire. "i might end up doing something else if we keep this up." his eyes searched yours.

and behind you, caleb pressed closer, the hard ridge of his arousal grinding against the curve of your ass through the fabric of his pants. "mm, should we stop?" he murmured, but his actions belied his words as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his lips and teeth and tongue busy mapping the sensitive skin there. 

you were already losing yourself, drowning in the feeling of your two childhood friends. and god help you because you don't ever want to be found.

caleb paused, his hand stilling on the soft curve of your shoulder as he looked to you with a mix of desire and hesitation in his eyes. "is it okay if we touch you more?" he asked, almost pleading like an eager puppy seeking permission.

"where?" you breathed, the single word a question and an invitation all at once.

"here," caleb murmured, his thumb and forefinger pinching and rolling your stiffening nipple through the thin fabric of your shirt.

at the same moment, zayne's hands slid down from your hips, hesitating for a heartbeat before cupping the rounded globes of your ass. he squeezed gently, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he pulled you back against him, grinding his hard length against the cleft of your rear.

"and here," zayne whispered.

your moans filled the moth house as memories of simpler times flashed through your mind. you remembered chasing after zayne and caleb in the sunlit yard, their laughter echoing while playing tag, innocent and carefree as ever. how naive the three of you had been, unaware of the seeds of desire that had already been planted, the embers of attraction smoldering beneath the surface of your childhood bond. little had you known that years later, those innocent games would evolve into this - the feeling of caleb's fingers boldly cupping your clothed sex, the heat of his touch searing you even through the fabric of your panties.

"oh!" you gasped, your hips bucking instinctively into his hand. it seems as though the past and present blurred, the ghosts of your youth intertwining with the raw, carnal hunger of the moment.

zayne's hands kneaded the globes of your ass, his grip tightening when he felt you respond to caleb's touch. "fuck," he rasped, his voice strained with the effort of holding back, from not simply taking you right then and there. "you have no idea how long we've wanted this, wanted you."

"zayne..." you whispered. for someone who'd been protective of you, who'd been the most conservative than any other man, he acted like the opposite of what you've deemed him as in your entire childhood.

and behind you, the boy who had your back the most, the boy who jumped into any risky scheme with you, had his fingers rubbing and circling your clothed slit with a newfound confidence, a pent-up urgency that spoke volumes about the years of longing he had harbored for you.

then, the haze of lust momentarily lifted by the sound of caleb's grunt of discomfort. "it hurts." you turned to look at him, concern etching in your flushed face. for a second, you let go of zayne's shoulders and followed caleb's line of sight. to his... prominent bulge straining against the front of his pants.

instantly, you averted your eyes. "okay, maybe- maybe this wasn't a good idea after all—"

"mine too." zayne spoke up, just right behind your ear. "it's a natural reaction, especially when we're this close to you—"

"of course, i know that, idiot!" you whisper-screamed, backing off a bit to give yourself some personal space for a few moments. you gulped, "do we know what we're getting into? ...what if our families find out about this?"

"we aren't telling them, are we?" caleb said, already working on undoing the buttons of his top.

"yes, but," you paused, trying to gather your thoughts, because the words for what they were haven't formed yet. only now you've realized the severity of what you were up to, the hypocrisy of everything that have led you to this. you looked up, only to see both guys giving you curious gazes, with half-lidded eyes. "i've... always seen the two of you- as my brothers."

"bro...thers?"

"do you still see us that way?" zayne's voice made you stare at them. he stood with his glasses now forgotten in his pocket, dark hair tousled from the boldness had taken over him earlier. the white coat was long gone, he probably already took it off while you made out, and all that remained was the black shirt beneath, sleeves messily rolled up to his forearms, revealing veins and tendons you’d never once paid attention to when you were kids. the dip of his collarbone peeked out just above the neckline, and his chest rose and fell with a tension he didn’t bother hiding.

and caleb with the top buttons of his shirt undone, his collar skewed, sleeves rolled, forearms lean and marked with a few cuts and scratches. the light caught on the curve of his throat, the slight sheen on his skin, and the faint scar on his wrist from the time he tried to teach you how to climb the mango tree. his hair was a little messy too, a little too perfect in its imperfection, like he had run his fingers through it on the way here.

you didn't know when or how it happened. only that that was all it took for the three of you to get lost further.

you glanced down at your hand full of white liquid, some were also dripping down your chin you could feel. it's an uncomfortable position to be kneeling against the dirty ground for half an hour already, but that was irrelevant compared to the amount of cum that was spilled into your chest, into your face, and into your mouth.

you chased your breath, staring up at zayne and caleb in pure bliss. they sat next to each other on a wooden ledge, both chasing theirs too. zayne had his head rolled back that you could see the way his adam's apple occassionally bobbed, while caleb have had kept his eyes on you the whole time you sucked him and jacked the other guy off.

caleb wipes the bead of cum off the corner of your mouth with his finger. "are you tired?"

you shake your head. "no, i wanna keep..." you bring the finger in your mouth, licking it with your tongue.

in response, caleb slightly widens his eyes at your sudden action, but he enjoys it. he always enjoyed when you did something he wouldn't expect. he pulls his finger out of your mouth, and you whine, but he slides it down your chin, gliding it across your clothed chest, and down your stomach. until he leaned down to touch your pussy.

you squeaked, "caleb?"

"you like being touched like this?" he teased your clit.

then, you felt another finger pinch your nipple through the fabric. "i reckon she likes this more." you turn to look at zayne, who's staring hard into your eyes. he had his glasses back on. he always did around you ever since you've mentioned about how it looked good on him. so while your mouth got stuffed in his cock earlier, with his fingers on your head, his other hand made an effort to put the glasses back on with a "look at me."

you squirmed at both men's work, eyes fluttering shut to back. they watched you curiously, until caleb's finger shot itself inside. deep inside. "pipsqueak," he gives you that look again. that look he does when he's being vulnerable. "you're so fucking tight."

zayne shot caleb a glance, intrigued. but he was silent.

caleb licks his lower lip, "can i... can we,"

zayne looks at you.

"can we check how tight it is?"

"what do you mean?" you asked, trying to speak coherently even through a moan. "y-you already are....?"

caleb pulls away, leaning back. zayne does the same. they didn't say anything, they didn't answer your question, so you were just there, clueless. still kneeling. then, your eyes shifted to their throbbing, erected dicks. like both were waiting for you, were waiting to be inside you.

now you know what they meant.

but you couldn't believe it.

back then, in this same moth house, you used to count the moths up the ceiling, laying on each other's shoulders as innocent kids. now, the same men were asking you to get on them. with the same eyes that smiled at you across the field, running and giggling.

[sh4nksslvt]

I love shanks so much😭😭

Are you able to write a story where reader is a captain of another crew? Their crew isn’t super famous but aren’t weak either. Their crew is staying at some island and a tavern there when the Red-Haired pirates show up and think that they might try to fight, but reader dgaf and decides to flirt with shanks and stuff. Don’t know if your readers are Gn or female, but could the reader be described as “as beautiful as the ocean” please? I thought that would be cute!

Thank you!

🌊

thats interesting! its not much but hope u like this~~

Trouble Walks In, and So Do You

shanks x reader | ONE SHOT

tags: fluff, ocs, flirting, chaotic crews

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ff a bit cringe, akward, and confusing

word count: 1.2k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

The tavern on Bellmouth Island had never known peace.

It was tucked into the port side of the island like a cozy scar—weathered, stubborn, and full of bad decisions marinated in rum. But even Bellmouth’s most seasoned barkeep hadn’t seen anything quite like The Siren’s Fang crew.

“Hey, Cap! Tall guy passed out again!” barked Kiji, the squad’s medic, gesturing to a pile of limbs slumped over a barstool.

“Is he breathing this time?” you asked lazily, twirling a glass of rum in your hand. You sat at the tavern’s center table, leg slung over the arm of your chair, adorned in sleek leather and gold-trimmed cloth, eyes half-lidded with amusement.

“Barely,” muttered Azel, your cook-slash-unofficial-grim-reaper, poking the unconscious man with a ladle. “He mistook my hot sauce for syrup. Natural selection.”

“His fault,” you sighed.

You were Captain [Y/N], the woman many whispered about as beautiful as the ocean—mysterious, wild, and just as likely to drown you as smile at you. The Siren’s Fang wasn’t a household name like the Straw Hats or the Emperors, but in the Grand Line’s undercurrent, your reputation had teeth. Rumors swirled of your crew taking down a fleet from Big Mom’s remnants and sinking a marine battleship like it was a toy boat in a bathtub.

Still, fame didn’t interest you. Fun did.

And Bellmouth was fun—cheap booze, rowdy locals, and just enough lawlessness to feel like home.

That was until the door slammed open.

Wind howled through the tavern. Bottles rattled. Even the drunks perked up.

The Red-Haired Pirates had arrived.

You didn’t need to look. You felt it. That magnetic, crackling air of too-powerful people walking into a space too small to contain them.

Shanks led the way, one hand on the hilt of his sword, the other resting on his hip as he scanned the tavern with lazy mirth. His crew spilled in behind him—Benn Beckman, Lucky Roux, Yasopp, the works.

Ten seconds passed. Then—

“Welp. Guess we’re fighting,” muttered Neri, your tactician, flipping her dagger.

“Can’t we go one week without a legendary crew showing up?” grumbled Hyun, your shipwright, who’d just managed to tape a window back together.

“Don't break my chairs,” called the barkeep, already ducking behind the bar.

You, meanwhile, took a sip of rum.

And then, slowly, gracefully, rose to your feet.

"Are we fighting?" asked Benn, eyes narrowing slightly.

Shanks tilted his head in your direction, gaze locking onto yours.

You didn’t draw your sword.

You smiled.

“No,” you said, voice like velvet. “But I do have something else in mind.”

The room collectively blinked.

You strolled toward them with the ease of a queen and the chaos of a siren in full swing. “You must be Red-Haired Shanks,” you purred, eyes scanning him with undisguised appreciation. “You're taller than I expected. That’s... hot.”

A pause.

Then—someone from your crew let out a wheeze of disbelief. Probably Toma. He’d bet two crates of rum you’d deck Shanks on sight.

Shanks arched a brow, lips twitching. “Not the usual greeting I get from a rival pirate captain.”

“I’m not your rival,” you said, stopping only a breath away from him. You craned your head up, voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “Unless you want me to be. Enemies to lovers? That your thing?”

Lucky Roux choked on his drink.

Shanks actually laughed, the rich, boisterous sound of someone genuinely caught off guard.

“Captain,” Benn said dryly, “I think we’re being hit on.”

“DAHAHA I know, right?” Shanks grinned. “This is way more fun than usual.”

Your crew was now in a full-on state of stunned chaos.

“I—she just flirted with a Yonko. Casually. Like she was ordering a drink,” Kiji mumbled.

“She’s going to get us killed,” muttered Neri.

“No,” corrected Hyun, “she’s going to get laid.”

“Pfft—HA!”

Meanwhile, Shanks tilted his head. “So what’s your name, Ocean Eyes?”

You gave him your full title, adding, “Captain of The Siren’s Fang. And yes, I live up to the name.”

“Mm.” He leaned in just slightly. “Should I be worried you’re trying to lure me onto the rocks?”

“I’m trying to lure you onto something, that’s for sure.”

Yasopp nearly fell off his stool.

Benn facepalmed. Lucky Roux laughed so hard he snorted beer through his nose.

“Join us for a drink?” you offered innocently. “Or are you too scared I’ll make you fall in love with me?”

Shanks held your gaze for one beat. Two. Then smiled.

“I’ve done dumber things.”

And just like that, the Red-Haired Pirates sat down with the Siren’s Fang.

Tension left the room like steam off hot rum. Chairs screeched. Drinks clinked. Somewhere, your sniper was trying to discreetly message your ship’s chronicler: CAPTAIN IS FLIRTING WITH SHANKS, SEND HELP.

“...And then the marine tries to arrest me, right? While I’m naked. In the bath!” Shanks crowed, halfway through a bottle of rum, hair falling into his eyes.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, clutching your side. “Please tell me you fought him like that.”

“I slipped! Broke his nose falling out of the tub!”

You and your crew howled.

A few tables down, Benn and Neri were having a quiet intellectual standoff that involved a lot of maps and dry sarcasm. Yasopp and Hyun were arguing over gun specs. Toma was getting arm-wrestled into oblivion by Lucky Roux. It was, in short, a tavern apocalypse.

“You’re fun,” Shanks murmured, voice low, only for you.

You tilted your head. “You expected me to be scary.”

“I expected you to swing first and ask questions never.”

“Ah. That’s just on Wednesdays.”

He chuckled. “You’re dangerous.”

“You like that,” you teased.

“I do,” he admitted. “But be honest. Is this all just to distract me while your crew steals our booze?”

You sipped your drink with a wink. “What do you think?”

From across the room, a yell: “WE’VE TAKEN THE BEER STORAGE!”

“DAMN IT, KOKO!”

Shanks stared.

You said nothing.

He grinned. “Marry me?”

“Buy me a boat first.”

“You already have a ship.”

“Yeah, but I want a red one.”

As the night wore on, chaos bloomed into something almost tender. The two crews, pirates feared across the seas, were now doing karaoke with a broken lute and a guy named Phil.

You leaned against the tavern doorway, watching the madness. The moonlight brushed your skin like seafoam, your hair tousled by the salt-laced wind.

Shanks joined you silently.

“You’re really not what I expected,” he said.

“Disappointed?”

He shook his head. “Enchanted.”

You turned your head to him, eyes soft now. “You’re pretty smooth for a pirate.”

“I’m usually drunker.”

You laughed, then reached up, brushing a lock of hair from his face. “You know, Red, if I weren’t a captain…”

“Yeah?”

“I’d ask you to run away with me.”

He caught your wrist gently, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“If I weren’t a Yonko,” he murmured, “I’d say yes.”

For a moment, it felt like the sea held its breath.

Then someone inside yelled, “THE CAPTAIN AND SHANKS ARE MAKING EYES AT EACH OTHER AGAIN!”

“TAKE PICTURES!”

“START THE WEDDING SONG!”

You and Shanks groaned in unison.

“Back to the madness?” he offered.

“Only if you dance with me.”

“Deal.”

And so the two of you dove back into the tavern storm, laughing, flirting, half-dancing, half-sparring with words, like the sea and sky in a constant, chaotic waltz.

No declarations. No promises.

Just two captains in the eye of a storm they both enjoyed far too much.

[bimb0fy]

perfect girlfriend; monkey d luffy

pairings; monkey d luffy x shank!reader

warning(s); mentions of scars, kinda suggestive at the end.

summary; luffy always had your name in his mouth, his girlfriend this! his girlfriend that! the crew never knew if you had actually existed considering the fact that your name didn't ring any bells or that well, they haven't met you yet. when luffy proposed a visit they all agreed to put an end to this little charade.

word count: 1,071 words

ᵐᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡⁱˢᵗ!! | ⁿᵃᵛⁱᵍᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ!!

— Luffy smiled as he ran over the deck, perfecting everything that looked slightly unpleasing. He hadn't seen you in months, going back to his old village meant seeing you again and he wanted it to be perfect. You both kept in touch by sending letters and after a while, ended up buying phones to reach each other faster.

Nami sat on a crate, her legs crossed as Sanji and Zoro stood beside her. Ussop was attempting to stop Luffy from falling overboard. She looked over at the two boys who rolled their eyes. "Not one bit huh?" Nami asked the two who nodded.

Sanji had faith in the beginning, believing the boy since well, he has a heart of gold, but after a while of hearing stories that sound like tales out of a naive boys mouth is well, unbelievable. Yes, it was possible for him to have a girlfriend, yet she can't be great in everything.

She can't be a fantastic with swords and a genius in the medical field, she can't be the best cook, better then Sanji Luffy might say, and have a hand for crafts. Maybe he was simply overcompensating about his love.

"Luffy, the ship looks great, I'm sure your girl will love it." Sanji smiled at the boy as both Nami and Zoro let out stiffled laughs.

"Whats so funny?" Luffy asked the group who looked at eachother. Luffy grew more concerned as he took his hat off, sliding them onto his shoulders.

"It's just that we uh." Nami started as she tried to figure out a way to frame it in a decent way.

"We don't think she exists." Zoro answered as Nami turned to the boy, her eyes wide as he shrugged. "What, it's better then lying."

"Y/n is real, why don't you guys believe me?" Luffy asked the crew who stayed quiet. He looked among them as he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "She's real, shes a pirate too, well, was a pirate."

"Yeah, and a doctor, and a cook, and a writer. She seems perfect, no one is." Zoro looked at the boy who scoffed.

"Well, she is, and look, we're here so you'll see for yourself!" Luffy said as he ran towards the front. Nami sighed as she stopped the ship, Luffy instantly jumping down, running towards a trap door. He opened it, jumping down for the group to follow him.

They were placed in an old basement, filled with materials and a section with belongings. "What is this place, it's so, rusty." Sanji said as he pinched his nose due to the horrid smell of fish guts.

"It's my home, well, was my home." Luffy smiled at the group as he walked over to his old bed, he opened a chest, taking out a satchel with his old belongings before climbing back up. "C'mon, I got my stuff, let's go meet Y/n!"

"Yeah, cause that's totally not stalling." Nami said as she climbed out, helping Zoro up as she ran after the boy who ran towards a bar.

"Luffy! My god we missed you!" The bartender smiled at the boy who hugged her. He turned back to his crew, looking around for another person.

"Hey Makino I got the broom." You said as you entered the room, you looked up to find Luffy who stood in shock. You dropped the broom as you ran towards the boy, jumping at him as he caught you, spinning you around.

You kissed his lips as he smiled, he set you down, wrapping his arms around you as he turned back to his crew who stood shocked. "Wait, she's actually real?" Zoro asked as he turned to Nami. She shrugged as he turned back to you.

"Guys, this is my very real girlfriend, Y/n." Luffy introduced you as you laughed. You waved at the group who waved back, Sanji with a huge grin plastered on his face.

"What a nice young lady you are-." Sanji's sentence was cut off by Luffy who had punched the boy, you covered your mouth before turning back to Luffy who looked serious.

"Luffy!" You yelled as he turned back to you, his expression softening.

"What?" He answered as you fliched his hat, he smiled as he held onto it, kissing your cheek before carrying you up, spinning you around one more time.

"Cmon now, I wanna show you my ship!" Luffy smiled as he held your hand, running towards the dock where the going merry happened to be. He skipped up the ramp as you looked in awe at the ship.

Luffy leaned onto the railings, smiling at the girl who stood on shock. "This is your ship? This is yours?" You asked the boy who nodded. He seemed proud of himself, you knew he had a ship but never expected a huge ship with an actual flag.

"C'mon, I'll show you my room, our room." Luffy smiled at the girl who scrunched her face in confusion. Luffy jumped down, holding your hand as he stared into your eyes. "Y/n, I want you to join my crew, we need someone like you, you know what you're doing, your perfect, your kind and smart."

"I left that life behind." You sighed as he looked away, you could tell her was upset. You hated being apart, he hated it more. Luffy was always an affectionate person, being away from his loved one hurt more then anyone could ever imagine. "I suppose you do need help to find the one piece."

Luffys face brightened up as he looked at you, smiling before carrying you up to the ship. You giggled as he set you down in the Captains quarters. The place was surrounded in pictures and souvenirs from adventures they had gone through. A desk filled with books and paper, probably stories written by him. You turned to the bed that seemed big enough for two people.

"You planned this, didn't you?" You turned to the boy who smiled, raising his eyebrows. You laughed before setting down on the bed. "I'll go get lunch ready?"

"No need, Sanji 'll do it." He smirked as he placed his hands on your waist, you smiled as you looked back at the boy, he traced your scar on your left cheek with his fingertips in such a loving way. "Now, let me show you how much I missed you my love."

[marymary-diva17]

Navi child shenanigans

Children always had the talent of getting into Shenanigans, no matter the day or time. That was something that their parents had become accustomed with over time. Life as a mother for you was very true, as your children always seem to be in some shenanigans even when you are human or avatar.

Y/n “ …….” You wake up, prepare to start your day, drink tea, and enjoy the morning. You soon sat in the base common area in one of the chairs. It had been a couple of days since you and everyone else had arrived at the reed after being approved to come here by the olo'eythans and tshaiks.

Y/n “ Huh.” There had been a sound that gained your attention, and you soon went to check out the sound. You soon left the common area and saw what made all that noise. 

???? “ You are a complete sxkwang, and you know that fish lips.”

???? “ Leave me alone tree boy, how was I supposed to know that would make a noise.”

Y/n “Loak.” You soon saw loak standing there as he and aonung looked into a crate.

Loak: “ Good morning, Mom.”

Y/N “ Good morning, my son. Mind telling me what you and Aonung seem to be getting into right now.”

Loak: “ Well, we came here to get some stuff, as we have the day off and wish to have some fun.”

Y/n “ So it seems like some shenanigans.”

Loak “ Yes.”

Aonung: “ We will make sure not to break anything, ma'am.”

Y/N: “There's no need to worry, kid. Everything is okay. So where are your brother and cousin, along with Rotxo as well?”

Spider “ There you two are we couldn't find, the crate back there so I might be over here.”

Y/n “ Good morning boys.”

Neteyam “ Good morning mom we are sorry if woke you all up, we just came by to get some stuff.”

Y/n “ It okay I was already up having some tea, but then I heard some voices and thing moving so I came to see what was going on here.”

Rotxo “ If there is anything we can do to make up for interrupting your morning ma’am we will make sure to do it.” 

Y/n “ There no need to worry kid all it okay o just want to know what you are all looking for anyways, as it seems like you are about to get into some shenanigans at the moment and it an off day anyways.” 

Lo’ak “ we came to get some of paint balloons along with colorful dust ones as well, we wanted to play with them during our time off as we have told the reef kids many of our stories from our times in the forest.” 

Y/n “ Well let me think about it?” You soon walked towards one of the crates and soon unlatched it soon enough lifted up the lip as well, as you soon wave the kids over to look at the stuff in the boxes. 

Y/n “ It seems like we do have enough stuff for you kids to play with today.” 

Aonung “ Wow there are so many colors here.”

Y/n “ It good to see you like them these will wash off in the water if anyone gets hit by them, so if your parents worry I shall explain that to them but please for eywa sake be careful with them.” 

Boys “ Yes ma’am.” 

Y/n “ Girls.” Soon enough the girls had come over as they looked at you it was easy to tell there, was no stay hidden from you at the moment. 

Tsireya “ Good morning y/n we came here after the boys, but these games sound very fun we should take part in them.” 

Kiri “ Sure it will be fun and we can have teams or everyone against everyone.” 

Tuk “ Color day.” 

Y/n “ The same is for all the kids that take part in this games but please make sure to not hit anyone of the adults, as I can’t keep you all from getting in trouble with any of them if they become upset.” 

Kids “ Yes ma’am.” 

Y/n: “ Now go take what you all want and have some fun.” The kids smiled and soon took off, taking the crate with them. You laughed, as you knew this was going to lead to many shenanigans later on in the day. 

Later on that day

Mo'at: " The kids have been gone most of the day."

Y/n " The kids had come to base with tonowari children, looking for paint and color dust balloons to have fun with today."

Mo'at: " Oh, they are always doing their usual kid things. They have missed doing some old things they could do at home."

Norm: "Let's hope they are all having fun today and avoiding some trouble."

Y/n "It's good to see them having fun." Mo'at and Norm nodded as the trio finished their work, and then you walked towards your family home.

Tuk: " Mama." Tuk soon came running over towards you, covered in paint and colorful dust, making you laugh as you hugged her.

Y/n " It seems like you had a good day, baby girl. Look at you; you are all covered in colors."

Tuk " We are having a good time, mommy. We have been able to get the reef kids involved as well."

Y/n " Oh really."

Tuk: " Yes, I can show you. Come on." Tuk had taken you to where the game was happening, and you had looked to see all the kids having a grand time.

Tuk " I'm going back to playing mama."

Y/n " Okay, have fun and remember you all need to wash that off at some point unless you wish to shock your parents." There was a feeling that the kids would love to happen.

???? " Ma y/n there you are."

Y/n “ Neytiri and Jake, hello, my loves.”

Jake: “ We saw you standing there and came to see what the matter was. We had been with tonowari and ronal as well.”

Y/n “ Hello, tonowari and ronal.”

Tonowari “ Hello y/n.”

Ronal: “ Hello, y/n. It's good to see you as your dream walker again.”

Y/n “ Thank you.”

Jake: “ Are those the kids over there.” Soon, the adults looked toward Jake, who was looking to see the kids playing around. 

Ronal: “ They are all so colorful.”Other adults soon made their way over there, watching their kids have a great time playing. 

Neytiri: “ So you had brought over the paint and color dust balloons.”

Y/n “ Yes, and the kids took them to have fun on their day off, but don’t worry; it will wash off if it's safe for them.”

Jake: “ So that where the had gone off this morning, hey, at least they are having a good time.”

Neytiri: “ You let them take them.”

Y/n: “ Yes, if they follow the rules.” 

Tsu’tey: “ It seems like our kids taught the reef kids about their games from home.” 

Norm: “ Hey, they are getting along with each other.”

Y/n: “ I think we should be careful as the kids might wish to make us target in the game .” 

Jake: “ Oh, come on, they know they can’t do that. Well, our kids know they will never be the top sully ….” Soon, Jake was hit by a balloon filled with paint.

Loak “ Who the top sully now, dad.”loak laughed at Jake, as Jake soon looked at his son. 

Jake “ Boy.”Loak was laughing as soon as other omatacayia kids tossed balloons at their parents, making them laugh. Soon enough, you and their other parents got involved as well. The reef adults were silencing and judging until they were soon dragged into when their kids came after them as well. The day seemed to go well in the end, on a good note for everyone.

[quatregats]

Tell me about la (no-)presa de roses obrianitzada

OH YAY IT'S MY FAVORITE CHILD WHO WILL NEVER BE PUBLISHED <3

Essentially what it says on the tin, this is the attempt on the fortress at Rosas/Roses in Ship of the Line but in the style of Patrick O'Brian, and also an excuse to go down the rabbit hole of Catalan history during this time period. Originally it was this passage which I published here, and I'll post the rewrite of that as well as some unnecessary extra stuff regarding my bestie Joan Clarós because I watched a literal documentary about him made by his descendant, amongst other madness, and I have to do him justice:

They drew up again to the dark, rocky headlands of Cape Creus a few hours before dawn, with bright Saturn setting to the south where the Gulf of Roses and the French battery awaited them. The westerly breeze had died down in the night, and with it the worst of the dry heat that it had carried from inland; but it was humid on the sea without a wind to stir the air, and below decks the atmosphere was almost oppressive. Once they had rounded the Cape, Hornblower had little reason to remain on deck, but there was a distinct restlessness in the air—even the hands, normally drowsy and sullen on the middle watch, stood huddled in little groups on deck, speaking in hushed voices.

“You had better sleep, sir,” Bush said; the two of them had stayed up on the quarterdeck to watch the Sutherland’s progress. “There’s nothing left for it until we make the rendezvous. Gerard can manage.”

Hornblower had not been able to argue with him, and had gone below, but he had not gone to sleep, only shrugged off his coat and sat down at his desk to look at the faded and stained chart which had been sitting there for weeks; finally the marine on the deck above him rang out five muffled bells and he heard the soft chorus of “All’s well” outside his door. A minute later, Polwheal knocked gently and entered with a basin of tepid water and a towel, and he got up to dress and shave.

“Caligula’s already there, sir,” Gerard said, as he took his place on the quarterdeck again. “Pluto’s lagging behind, but I reckon she’ll catch up eventually.” He looked grim and serious.

Hornblower nodded in acknowledgement. “Thank you, Mr. Gerard.”

“I’ll call all hands so we can begin to bring up the shot from the hold, sir.”

“If you please.”

A moment later, the bosun could be heard piping hammocks, and the sound of several hundred feet, several hundred whispering voices, several hundred moving bodies, floated up from below. The faint land breeze picked up slightly, and overhead, the splendor of the Milky Way, a celestial echo of the path that they would be taking come morning, dulled with the hint of dawn. Another body came up and joined Hornblower at the taffrail.

“Sky’s clear, sir. And the land breeze is blowing. You’ll have good weather, at least.” Bush, freshly shaved and dressed, followed his captain’s gaze out across the water towards where the faint outline of the Pyrenees fell into the sea. “Likely a trifle hot, though.”

“It’ll mean that you’ll have a good breeze to cut back around the cape, then,” Hornblower replied, staring absently. “You’ll make better time than we have tonight.” Bush hummed quietly in response. The two stood for a minute in silent contemplation before turning to watch as the first load of shot came up from the hold.

“Quiet there, you damn lubbers—” “—if you don’t watch where you’re going—” “—let it fall, the captain’ll kill you, you know how he gets…” But now the crate was up on deck, and the man was delivered from whatever terrible consequences he had been about to be sentenced to. Another crate of shot came up, and then another; the marine rang six bells and there was another quiet “All’s well” in response; the blackness of night turned slowly to the grey darkness before dawn. The Caligula was no longer a white speck in the distance, gliding into full view as they rounded the point.

“By the mark seven, by the mark six,” came the soft song of the leadman, and when they had made anchor, Bolton’s gig came across to greet them. The easy-going captain had a somber expression on his round, ruddy face as he joined Hornblower in his cabin, where the latter had been taking his coffee.

“Pluto will be here within the hour,” Hornblower said. “Shall I have my steward send for another cup?”

“Please.”

Polwheal did not need to be asked; he had already disappeared from the cabin. Outside there was the sound of the last keg of powder being heaved up from the hold, muffled oaths and a quiet thud before the men began to make their way down to the mess to quickly take their biscuits and tea.

“You’ve made good time,” Bolton said, just as Polwheal returned with the cup of coffee. He thanked him and took a gulp, some of the color returning to his face, then set down the cup with some force on the table. “I just wish the same could be said for that scrub of an admiral.”

“I’m sure he’ll be here presently. Your men are ready, I presume?”

“We’ll be in the water at the drop of a pin, all he has to do is give us the signal.”

“Good.” Hornblower took a measured sip of his coffee and glanced once again at the map, his eyes fixed on the dot which marked the fortress at Rosas.

Bolton paused, then shook his head. “I’m sorry that you’re bearing the brunt of the bloody fool’s nonsense; he ought to remember you’ve added several hundred pounds to his coffers.” He fixed Hornblower with a conspiratorial look, as if giving Hornblower permission to let out his flood of complaints, but Hornblower merely took another measured sip.

“The situation is what it is, Captain Bolton.”

“It damn well shouldn’t be.” Bolton cleaned off the dregs of his cup and set it down on the table. “But if you’re resigned to it, then I won’t interfere. I should return to my ship and see if the infamous villain’s arriving. Best of luck—give ’em hell for us, at least.” He got up, patted Hornblower amiably on the shoulder, and made his way out the door.

It was just as well he did, because the flagship anchored alongside them soon after that, and Hornblower returned to deck, the coffee having done away with what little tiredness he had felt before. It was light enough that every man on deck could make out the signal to lower the boats, although Hornblower dutifully waited for Vincent, the signal midshipman, to read it off before he gave the orders. There was a series of quiet splashes as the first boats touched down, the seamen hissing to each other as they loaded them with powder and shot. The carronades proved stubborn beasts, and at one moment there was a sudden cry as one of the Caligulas had his toe crushed by the gun’s unsteady rolling in the small launch; but the ensuing hushed silence was met with nothing more than the sounds of seagulls across the cove, and the work eventually resumed.

“Boat’s ready, if you please, sir,” Brown called up softly, and Hornblower took one last look at the Sutherland before making his way towards the ladder. He had only just swung himself down the side when he felt someone loom over him, and a calloused hand covered his.

“Good luck, sir,” Bush said.

“Thank you, Bush,” Hornblower replied softly, and they exchanged a brief look before Bush let go his hand and allowed him to make his way down to the boat where Brown was waiting to row him ashore.

------------

In the muted dawn light, the cove was all muddled yellows and greys, the sandy bottom clearly visible, the little beach tucked between harsh, imposing outcroppings of volcanic rock. Villena was there to meet him, looking drowsy but with a hint of interest in his hazel eyes at the activity of the boats, which were being unloaded with a remarkable efficiency; already a pile of munitions had been tucked into the folds of the rocks. With Villena was an older man, perhaps fifty or sixty years of age, with greying hair and a sharp gaze, dressed in Spanish military uniform.

“I have the honor of presenting to you Colonel Juan Clarós, of the Figueras Migueletes,” Villena said in Spanish.

“A pleasure to meet you at last, sir,” Clarós said, extending a hand. He spoke Spanish with an accent so thick that Hornblower struggled to understand him, and his handshake was firm, businesslike.

“Equally, sir. Have you any word from Rovira?”

“He has raised the call from here to Olot, and with any luck he will join us before noon. But come, with the guns and your men we will certainly be able to give a good blow to the Frogs.”

The guns were rolled up onto the beach with great effort, then attached to ropes so they might be hauled up the narrow path. There were not enough mules; the men looked displeased at the suggestion that they might have to act as beasts of burden, but there was nothing to be done. Slowly, the procession began to make its laborious way up the slope, the sailors slipping on the scree as they strained to pull the carronades after them. It would be several miles of this to Roses, Hornblower thought unhappily.

[hummingbird24220]

Chapter Fifty-One: You Clean Up Good, But You Break Things Better

Back aboard the Sunny, the crew was in cleanup mode.

Sanji was icing his knuckles with a satisfied sigh. Zoro was leaning against the railing, arms crossed, bruised but smug. Luffy was passed out on the deck, snoring peacefully with a bone in his hand. You?

You were sprawled across a crate, still in your fight gear, sweat drying on your skin, one leg swinging lazily as you sipped water like it was victory-flavored.

Nami walked past and gave you a once-over. “So. Sundress one day, body-slamming bounty hunters the next.”

You smirked. “I’m a woman of range.”

Robin, without looking up from her book, added, “You clean up well. But you break things better.”

You lifted your bottle in salute. “Put that on my tombstone.”

Sanji walked over with a fresh towel and a grin. “Let me guess. You bruised your shoulder again?”

You raised your arm and winced. “Maybe. Worth it.”

He gently draped the towel over your neck and muttered, “At least let me patch you up before you go lifting cannons with one hand again.”

You leaned into him just a little. “You’re my favorite nurse.”

Zoro, still within earshot, scoffed. “She says that like she hasn’t let me tape her back together with old bandages mid-fight.”

“That was once,” you shot back. “And I still have the tape in my hair.”

Sanji looked genuinely offended. “Tape?! You let him—”

You patted his chest. “Calm down, Chef Daddy. It was war.”

Zoro smirked. “She’s not wrong.”

As the sun dipped low and dinner was served, the crew gathered around the table, laughing and chattering over their bowls.

You sat between Zoro and Sanji, still sore, still radiating that satisfied, post-fight glow.

Luffy pointed a chopstick at you mid-chew. “You were super cool today.”

You blinked, surprised. “You’re just saying that ‘cause I punched that one guy across the market square.”

“I mean, yeah,” he replied, grinning wide. “But also ‘cause you’re, like, strong and stuff. Like me.”

Chopper nodded. “You took a lot of hits today.”

You grinned, cheeks flushed slightly. “What can I say? It’s a good day when my enemies cry before I do.”

Robin sipped her tea. “Your modesty is admirable.”

Usopp elbowed you. “I still can’t believe you bent that guy’s sword.”

“He can’t either,” you replied proudly.

Sanji set another plate in front of you without a word. Zoro slid you a second drink.

You looked between them, then at the whole crew. Bruised, full, and borderline unhinged—every single one of them. Your people. Your weird, powerful, perfect little pirate family.

You smiled, raising your glass lazily. “To being strong. And hot. And scary. All at once.”

The crew erupted in cheers.

Zoro clinked his cup against yours and muttered, “We’re keeping you forever, y’know.”

You winked. “I was never leaving.”

And as the waves rocked the ship beneath you and laughter filled the air, you leaned back in your seat and sighed. Being yourself had never felt so damn good.

________________

The day started normal enough.

Sunny drifting lazily along the current. Luffy napping on the figurehead. Sanji cooking something with way too much butter. Zoro pretending not to be lost on a ship that had one hallway.

You were on the deck, lying flat on your back, letting the sun warm your bones, thinking about nothing and everything all at once.

Then the newspaper seagull arrived. And everything changed.

“Hey… uh… (Y/N)?”

Usopp was the one who saw it first. The rolled-up newspaper had smacked him square in the face, and after the usual yelling and chasing, he unrolled it— …and stopped.

Nami came over. Looked. Her eyes widened. “Oh.”

Robin took the paper next. Smiled faintly. “Well. That’s new.”

You sat up, suspicious. “What’s new?”

Sanji wandered over, glanced at the paper— GASPED like he’d witnessed a divine event. “Oh mon dieu—finally!”

You blinked. “What?”

Luffy popped up beside you like a specter. “(Y/N), you got a bounty!”

You shot to your feet so fast your knees cracked. “WHAT?!”

Nami handed the paper over, flipping to the center spread—the wanted posters. And there it was. Crisp. Fresh. Smirking.

A slightly windblown shot of you from a recent fight. Hair messy. Eyes gleaming. A streak of blood across your cheek like war paint. You looked like a walking threat with good lighting.

“WANTED — (Y/N) the Wrecking Heart” B 260,000,000

There was a beat of silence.

Then:

“TWO HUNDRED AND SIXTY-MILLION?!” you shrieked. “What the—what the hell did I do?!”

Zoro raised an eyebrow. “You punched a Sea King three weeks ago.”

“You threatened a Celestial Dragon’s cousin,” Robin added calmly.

“You threw a pirate through two buildings last week,” Chopper mumbled. “And laughed.”

“And they called you 'a dangerously unpredictable presence capable of seduction, destruction, and inciting small uprisings wherever she goes,'” Usopp read from the article.

You stared at the poster. “…They think I’m a problem.”

“You are a problem,” Nami said proudly.

Luffy wrapped his arms around your shoulders and laughed. “Now you’re really part of the crew!”

Sanji wiped a tear. “It’s a beautiful day. My goddess is finally feared by the world.”

Zoro snorted. “Took ‘em long enough.”

The Reality Sets In

You sat back down hard on a barrel, poster in your hand, still staring. “I have a bounty. I have a bounty. That’s a real number. That’s so high. Why is it so high? I haven’t even done anything that illegal.”

Robin smiled behind her book. “Darling, the government seems to disagree.”

You ran a hand down your face. “Oh no. I’m going to have bounty hunters after me now. They’re going to think I’m cool. I’m going to disappoint so many people.”

Sanji knelt in front of you, hands clasped. “You could never disappoint. Your power is radiant. Terrifying. Sexy.”

Zoro leaned on the railing and muttered, “She’s going to get kidnapped just so she can punch her way back again.”

You stood, holding the poster like a badge of honor—and a very loud threat. “Well. Guess I’m finally infamous.”

Nami grinned. “You earned it.” Usopp whistled. “Remind me not to spar with you ever again.” Luffy gave you a thumbs-up. “Next goal—break 500 mil!”

You groaned. “Please, no. Let me enjoy this one trauma-free for five minutes.”

Zoro smirked. “No promises.”

And you smiled, despite yourself, as the ship rocked gently forward— new bounty in hand, new trouble on the way.

You’d never felt more alive.

[wonbuni]

3. WHATCHU OVER HERE BEING MESSY FOR? 456 wc

soobin came back from waving mr. bang off, "he said we did a great job and told me to give riki a high five because of the cobwebs." riki hit soobin’s hand with a smile. "but we need more employees. mr. bang's words, not mine.” soobin said, not trying to get attacked. as if on cue, two boys came in.

one with kind of long black hair and one with brownish hair. they both were tall and handsome young men. y/n's jaw dropped. it was the boy that was her "secret admirer" as sunghoon would say. y/n dragged yoon into the back, the new boys furrowing their brows. "she's.. having problems. ignore her." keeho smiled, trying up cover up the weird atmosphere. the others nodding with him.

"anyways, we were wondering if there were was a opening for a job here?" the one with brown hair asked with a polite smile. soobin nodded and took them to his office. while that happened, sakura, keeho, and riki all looked at eachother then sprinted to the back with yoon and y/n.

"spill right now." keeho said, sitting on a crate box. "okay well, that black haired boy, yeah he's supposedly my "secret admirer"." y/n explained, using air quotes. "we’re pretty sure he watches her walk out of her classes too.” yoon followed up. "drama, i like it." riki said.

"i hate you." y/n said. after a couple minutes of y/n pacing back and forth whispering to herself, sakura suggested something. "let's go eat at that breakfast place across the road, they have awesome bacon.” "yeah! let's go, i love their eggs bro." yoon said, grabbing her bag.

y/n, riki, and keeho all grabbed their stuff like phones, wallets, bags, etc. and followed yoon and sakura out of the back room. soobin came infront of them with the two boys from earlier,

"before you guys get going, i want y/n training wonbin and yoon training sungchan. theyre your new co workers," soobin explained, y/n wishes she could just walk off the earth right now. "okay no problem! we were just heading to this great breakfast place across the road, you guys should come." yoon said, with a welcoming smile.

"thanks, we should get to know you guys anyway." sungchan agreed, wonbin keeping his eyes on y/n. so, they all walked to the breakfast place with keeho and riki almost getting run over and keeho flipping the driver off.

they arrived at the diner that was adjecent to their workplace. they all sat down in a big booth, "so what is everyone getting? ill pay since it was my idea." sakura said, she just wanted to care for her 6 kids. everyone said what they wanted and the waiter took their order.

authors note — okay… how we feelin…. 🔥🔥 sungchan unc status!!!!!

TAGLIST (crossed out i cant tag!) — @starwonb1n @danidanioh @nujeskz @seunghancore @i03jae @saranghoeforanton @wonychu @gyeheonist @branchioswrld @fae-renjun @woonagi-lemon @byeonwooseokabs

[magicmumu2]

I'm so sorry about your dog. That's such a hard loss.

Thank you Sweet Pea,

You have no idea how much I needed to see this. It has been hard. I got her at 12 (so the shelter told me) and I had her for 7 years before she was rehomed to her dad Greg, who has been so amazing. He was originally going to foster her until she found another home for her, but he adored her so much he adopted her. He was so kind and actually liked that I checked in on her and wanted to know how she was, and each check in always reassured me that she was loved and well cared for and even spoiled a bit because she was getting three meals instead of the two I was feeding her!

(More under the cut)

Two of my favorite stories about her are the time we met and the time she found sausage under a bush (do you know the tumblr post about the pie bush dog? similar to that).

So the time we met, I was at the shelter looking for a small older dog to look after and maybe have an Emotional Support Animal since my depression was bad but I was still active with work and volunteering. There was a chihuaua named Regina that got my interest because she was a small tanned little thing and of course I was crazy delulu in love with Regina Mills from Once Upon a Time at the time, so I was like hell fucking yes please be my dog. So I went to go meet Regina, who was in a crate with some other small dogs in crates nearby. In the crate next to Regina was Harlem. I said 'Hey Harlem'. This girl was laying down, but when I took a step to say hello to Regina, Harlem sat up and she gave a little grunt type noise. So Regina seemed shut down, and was not at all interested in me, but I turned to Harlem who was looking at me and I read over what little information they had on her. She was 12, Regina was 10. Since Harlem was a rat terrier/miniature poodle mix, I didn't know much about the breed and went home to do research. I called the shelter often, since her adoption fee was like 125 and I had to wait until payday to go pick her up but I was approved for her adoption. I didn't know that her adoption fee was waived due to her being a senior dog. So I got her and took her home. Poor girl got sick in the crate. But I dropped $300 on her bed and other stuff that day. She chose me. 🥹

The other story was at a park that had a pond. There was an area to over look the water of the pond. We went a lot to feed the ducks there, so there are a couple of funny stories that take place there. The first time this girl had just gotten groommed (well i took her to a self groom spot for a bath and to cut her nails) and decided she wanted to roll in the goose poop so back to the selef groom spot we went because baby wast stanky. The next time I remember was at a picnic table feeding ducks and a couple of them got too close to me so she was like BACK THE EFF UP, and the one I love the most was that there was a sausage patty under a bush next to where that overlook was. Dont ask me how it got there. She went under it and got the sausage and would not surrender it. She wasn't aggressive about it but she just would not let me get it from her. She had the sticklers on her face from it too. When I picked her up, she finally dropped it, and I threw it away. A woman who was walking by offered to help me get the sticklers off. As soon as I put her down she stuck her head under the bush again and got the sticklers on her face again. It was windy and I was just laughing my ass off. I have a video of this. The woman was still nearby and she was like 'she did it again?' and I was like yup she did it again. So the woman came by again and pulled them off of her face again. Harlem accepted her fate and was so patient while the woman did this both times.

Harlem had a little purple bear that I would throw and she would run to get it and shake it. She could only play this for maybe 5 minutes but I would be like 'Get it HArlem! Get it!' and that would egg her on. Our other favorite game to play is one I call 'A Little Bit of Butt." I would pet or scratch her tummy, her head, her neck and then go ' AND A LITTLE BIT OF BUTT!' and scratch on her rump. this would rile her up and she would do this grunty noise and scratch at the leg or blanket or whatever. I like to think that was her laughing and squirming because she was being tickled.

Honestly I could talk about her for hours and tell stories about this girl. She made friends so easily and was often so chill when I took her on errands and to the family shelter. I moved a lot in that time and she was so adaptable like okay this is what we're doing now. cool. She kept me sane-ish during lockdown. She was my reason for getting out of bed a few times a day. She was so loving and so very loved. When I had to rehome her, it was the worst thing to happen to me, but like I said, Greg adopted her so I knew where she was and I knew she was being cared for. Greg told me about her making friends with a neighbor of his and how she just liked being in a lap, which is true. The guilt of having to rehome her has always eaten at me, but Greg said based off of the pictures I shared with her, she had a good life with me, and I had a good one with her. That i shouldnt not get another dog because i did well by her despite what happened. I am glad she was happy with me, and that her last moments were happy too. She was let go due to siezures and some issues with her back legs, and though there was a medication that they could have tried, it would have prolonged her suffering. I told Greg that he made a good call. He had someone come to the house to do it so she was comfortable and safe and i assume unafraid. He seemed guilty that he had to make that decision and he called me instead of texting me to let me know what happened. I told him that he lost her too, and that I was sorry. It was a good closure for me, and hopefully for him. I got an imprint of her paw because he got that for me, and I am thinking of ways to make it into a tattoo somewhere.

Anyway, again thank you Anon for your condolences.

Goodbye my sweet baby girl.

[loth-creatures]

Sabine's Story ? 👁️ -aaeeart

Ah yes, the elusive secret sabine's-backstory fic I slowly but surely chisel at on the rare occasion I have writing motivation. No promises on ever finishing it but I will publish at least some of it eventually I prommy

Here's one of my favorite snippets so far! There's another here, since two people asked about this one :)

A flash of color amidst the greenish steel caught Kanan's eye. At the end of the cluttered shelf was a Mandalorian helmet, painted indigo and magenta with a few bright red cartoonish symbols and a clan crest in deep maroon. It was easily the loudest paint job he'd ever seen on Mando gear. The rest of the set plus a folded holster containing twin blasters sat next to it, strapped together for storage.

Kanan pried his gaze away, trying to refocus on the task at hand, even as he was struck by how small the armor was; a youngling's set. Likely enough it had been stolen off a dead child's body. Bile rose in his throat as he found the crates of [stuff] they were after and magnetized them, slamming them together a bit more aggressively than was necessary. He started for the exit, blaster drawn and pulling the train of crates behind him. He made it five steps before he was turning around, cursing under his breath. It couldn't be left here. It had to be returned to someone even if the owner was long dead.

He intended to snatch it quickly and get the hell out of there as planned, but as he slid the bound pieces under one arm and reached for the helmet his feet remained rooted to the deck and Kanan found himself staring into the black of the visor as the ancient metal cooled his hands. Beskar had a weight to it. Not just physically, it was heavy in the Force. Heavy with the memory of fire and water and blood.

The click of a blaster behind him snapped Kanan back to reality. Well fuck me he muttered internally. Just had to lose it in the Force with his back turned. Like an idiot. He was about to whip around and use the damn helmet to smash the blaster away when his attacker spoke.

"Turn around, slow."

It was the voice of a teenager. Kanan knew it belonged to the owner of this armor even before he complied with their demand and saw a girl with bright pink hair, her young face streaked with blood. She couldn't be older than fifteen. Her dark eyes indicated the armor before meeting Kanan's.

“Give it to me, now.”

The kid’s voice was hard and steady, leaving no room for argument. Her stance was the same. She was hiding exhaustion and pain well enough to fool most people. But Kanan could see the slightest tremble of her hand in the way the blaster slowly tilted from its line to his heart, her stiff and slightly uneven posture, the tightness of her face that betrayed urgency and fear.

Kanan slowly bent to deposit the bundle of armor on the floor, raising his hands as he set it down. He used his foot to scoot it in her direction. The girl’s eyes and her blaster’s nozzle remained trained on Kanan, but he didn’t miss how hard her knee hit the deck as she knelt to retrieve the armor, or the effort it took her to stand back up. She put the helmet on, but didn't waste time on the rest, instead clutching it to her chest and backing away.

“Kid, wait.”

She did not. She fired a warning shot past his ear, then another shot took out the control panel for the door as she backed through it. The door slammed shut. Well. The beskar was returned to its rightful owner, mission accomplished. Kanan shook himself and redirected the crates towards the secondary entrance, raised his comm to alert Zeb to the change in route.

She won't survive she won't survive she won't survive

Kanan accepted the knowledge then shoved it aside, resolved to tell Hera about the little Mando. Chasing after her while she had no reason to believe that he wasn't one of her attempted captors would do nothing but waste both their time and botch this operation more than it already was. But the kid needed help. Something told Kanan it had to be them.

[moonlight-tmd]

Hello! A huge Blitzbee fan and a huge fan of your work here! What about a date after one of them had an exhausting day at work, and the other went all out glamorously for the date? I’m talking roses and lights and all that. Hehe ^^

Hello and thank you! I'm glad to hear you like the stuff i make <3

I wrote a similar thing about Blitz being all lovey dovey when Bee came to a meeting exhaused on my AO3 BlitzBee week but now i'm thinking what would Bee do when Blitz came back more and more tired from the constant work Megs and Lugnut give him...

I suppose Lugnut threw his work on Blitzwing, so he was stuck organizing and carrying supplies to the magazines all days long while Lugnut praised their Lord with an excuse of "discussing strategy plans with him". Bee understood that even a strong mech like Blitzwing can get tired and worn out so he planned a little something for their next meeting...

The next time Blitzwing flew out all tired to meet up with Bee he didn't see him when he landed by the warehouse. Instead, there was a note saying "Come inside~" with a heart drawn attached to the door. So Blitz took the note and entered their hideout. It was dark, all the lights have been turned off and the windows were covered. Only a moment after he called Bee's name the light turned on- or rather all the fairy lights haging from the walls and support beams of the building, all white, pink and magenta. There was other dimly lit decor and in the middle of the room on the floor was a big spread out rest area with electric candles surrounding it, he could see and smell incense on the crates placed nearby with dark sheets on them and bowls of various snacks sitting there just waiting to be eaten.

He was far too stunned to notice Bee creep up behind him and greet his beloved. Bumblebee was all shiny and had those silky blue ribbons wrapped around his horns, neck, arms and thighs. He had that adoring look on his face. A truly beautiful sight for Blitzwing.

He said he knew Blitz was doing one heck of a tough job and wanted to make their night a bit more pleasant for him. Blitzwing though he wanted them to interface but Bee only laughed and said not everything is about interfacing. Tonight was Blitz's night to relax.

Bee grabbed his sparkmate's servo and guided him to lay on the big pile of blankets and pillows. He made Blitz use his thighs as a pillow and pet his helm while also feeding him the fancy snacks he somehow got his servos on. Then he made Blitzwing lay on his chassis and went to massage his back plates.

The amount of stress and tension he had to knead out from there was making his own servos hurt but he never said a thing, he only sat there praising his beloved while listening to his moans of pleasure and relief. Bee brought special oils to rub into Blitz's metal to help with the stress, they all smelled good so he used different ones in different areas, he left the best one for his wings since he knew how much tension got in those struts after heavy duty work.

It was amazing. Bee assumed Blitzwing must have fallen into recharge when he was caressing his back to relax after the intense part of the massage. Blitz looked so peaceful, Bee was very happy that he helped his beloved, the spa night was a success. While petting Blitz's back he leaned down and whispered the word of love to him, how much he meant to him and that he'll always be there for him no matter what. He whispered how much his life got better since they met and that he'll never leave his side. Blitz was everything to him and he would do anything to keep them both happy. Bee gave him a kiss on the helm before he carefully squeezed himself under Blitz's arm to snuggle and recharge himself...

...What he didn't know is that Blitz wasn't recharging at all and trying his best not to burst out crying while Bee said all those things. Once Bee was in recharge he started quietly crying and hugged him as close as possible. Bee really went the whole world distance and beyond to make him feel like the luckiest mech alive. He never told Bee he heard his confession but he kept it in his Spark forever.

And of course, he did make Bee scream his name in the morning. Bee prettied himself up just for Blitzwing and it truly was doing things to him the whole time he saw the scout. A relaxing night followed by a passionate morning was something he never knew he needed. Shame they both had to leave so soon, but well... they could always reapeat that when they have more time~.

[puer-aurea]

On the second day of Christmas my true love gave to me...

Fluff for Southlanders

"I tried!"

"Your best?"

"God, I hope not! But probably."

How will this work?

"Guys! I st- borrowed Scott's nail polish!" Jimmy called to the other boys in the Southlands as he walked in with a crate in his hands.

"Woah, he has so much!" Mumbo remarked.

"Well, it's not all nail polish, there's some things to make cute designs. He taught me how to use all the stuff in Third Life, so I can make designs for everyone! Mumbo, you go first." Jimmy put the crate on the ground while the other boys crowded around.

"There's so many shades of blue! Does he really need that many?" Grian pointed out.

Mumbo sat in the grass with the other boys following suite, making a small circle. Grian was to his left, then Impulse, Jimmy, and Martyn completing the circle at his right. Mumbo pushed around some of the nail polish, looking over all the little tools he couldn't identify. He picked up a few different colors, a goldish-yellow, a metallic black, and a couple reds he could barely tell the difference between.

"What about- this one?" Mumbo held up a maroon color.

"Can do! Want a little design?" Jimmy took the bottle from him and shook it up a bit.

"No, I don't want to ruin it when we make the ghast farm. Just red." Mumbo put his left hand out over the crate for Jimmy to hold while he painted.

The polish was a little cold and Mumbo's shakiness made Jimmy mess up a bit, but with some acetone and a q-tip, the accidents were cleaned up like they were never there.

"You have to be careful while they dry. Just sit here and wait with us."

Mumbo nodded and carefully put his hands in his lap.

"Me next!" Grian was more reckless looking through the nail polish, unable to decide.

"What if you made it look like your wings?" Martyn suggested.

He was holding his spyglass up to his eye, looking at the nail polish crate through it. Grian knocked the glass on it with his nail, causing Martyn to jump slightly.

"That was uncalled for." He fake pouted and put his spyglass back in his inventory to prevent any damage.

"I like that idea, actually. Can you do parrot wings Timmy?"

Jimmy pulled out a couple colors, a red, yellow, and blue similar to Grian's wings, and a green. He took out a few of the tool cases and looked through them until he decided on what looked like a little yellow pen.

"Yeah! Just don't move too much, I'm not as good as Scott with these."

Grian held out his hand over the crate and Jimmy took it in his own, contemplating the best way to do it. He experimented on Grian's thumb nail, adding a bit of red in the corner then yellow, green, blue. He took the dotting tool- the one that looked like a little pen- and dragged it through each color in a couple lines. It wasn't perfect, not even close, and it was kind of messy, but the idea was there. He mimicked the design on the rest of Grian's nails and was quite satisfied with his work.

"That's actually pretty cool." Jimmy said as the other boys looked at it.

"You're good at this man!" Impulse lightly knocked his shoulder.

"Impulse, d'you want to go next?" Martyn asked.

"Um, I don't have any ideas yet. You can go."

Martyn muttered an alright and started looking through the colors. He knew he wanted green, but there was so many different ones. Why would anyone need this many shades of any given color? A few made sense, like having a dark green, light green, glitter green, and metallic green, but do you need several shades of light green? Really?

The words on one of the greens caught his attention.

'Glow in the dark'

He picked it up with a smirk and grabbed a black as well.

"I want these!"

"Both? So, you want a design?" Jimmy took the colors from Martyn.

"How about... surprise me?"

Martyn held his hand out over Jimmy's lap. Jimmy placed the green in the grass and started with a base coat of black over every nail. He looked through the crate again, examining the tools and putting some with the nail polish in the grass.

He took some acetone and cleaned the black off his thumb nails, replacing it with a base of green. He used the dotting tool to make little flowers on Martyn's index fingers and a smaller dotting tool to make messy flames on his ring fingers. Jimmy took out a case with various brush sizes and used one to make a checkerboard patter on his middle fingers and a split on his pinky. He put a stencil over his thumbs and made black hearts on them.

"Ta-da!"

"They're all different." Martyn gave it an odd look.

"Do you- not like it?" Jimmy sounded a little dejected.

"No, I don't. Because I l-aha-ve it!"

The boys started cracking up at the 'aha' joke and Jimmy had to calm them all down so they didn't mess up their nails.

"Any ideas, Impulse?" Jimmy asked when they quieted down.

"Well, I like this yellow," he held up a neutral yellow nail polish, "maybe something with it and black?"

Jimmy looked at the stencils in the crate before grabbing the ones that looked like angles. He took the yellow polish from Impulse and painted a base of it on each nail. They had to sit for a bit for them to dry before he could continue but when they did, he put the angle stencils on and painted black at the top.

"It's simple, but it's cool! How do you like it?" Jimmy watched as Impulse looked over his nails.

"It is cool! I feel cool, now." Impulse smiled at him.

"Then, I'll do my nails now."

"Do you want help? None of us will probably be very good at it but we can try..." Mumbo offered.

"You might not be good at it, I'm good at everything the first time I try." Martyn joked.

"Sure you are. But, no, I can do it! I'm gonna do the design Scott first taught me to do on his nails."

"Well, it's getting dark, so I'm going to prepare the nest for bed. The rest of the boys will keep you company." Grian checked to make sure his nails were dry before pushing himself off the grass.

"When you say it like that, we have no choice but to stay." Impulse pointed out.

"You'll be fineeee." Grian dismissed him and walked in the direction of his tower, where he and Jimmy made the nest they all shared at night.

Jimmy looked through the crate and pulled out a pastel blue, a white, and a forest-y green. He painted his thumb, ring, and pinky fingers plain blue. He used the dotting tool to make little blue and white flowers on his index and middle fingers and a thin brush to make stems and leaves. He fumbled with his non-dominant hand before Mumbo attempted to help, resulting in a somewhat similar but significantly more messy version of the index and middle finger design on his dominant.

"Wow, Martyn was right Mumbo. You were bad at this!" Impulse poked at him.

"I tried!" Mumbo whined.

"Your best?" Martyn joined the teasing with Impulse.

"Void- I hope not. But most likely." Mumbo sighed.

"Hey, I think Mumbo did very well! Give the man a break." Jimmy defended him.

"I jest, of course. Let's head up to bed." Martyn put his hand out for Impulse to take and helped him up.

"Yeah, it's getting dark." Impulse added.

Mumbo helped Jimmy up, careful of his nails, and the four went in Grian's tower to find him already asleep in the nest. Impulse and Martyn got in on either side of him, passing out quickly. Mumbo and Jimmy stayed up a little longer in silence, waiting for Jimmy's nails to dry before they joined the cuddle pile for the night.

the boys' nails

[cringewritinginprocess]

Annoyingly Codependent | Part Three.

Summery: Cousins thrown back to a time that both are in danger but are perfectly equipt to handle. Neither seemed too upset at the change, plans immediately starting despite the new situations. It's more the Mikaelson Siblings that are going to be surprised with the newly aquired family members.

Word Count: 3873

Rating: Mature [Violence | Implied Sexual content](Rating for entire fic)

A/N: I just have one part after this to post!

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 4]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marquez stopped as he came down to the courtyard to see Elijah and Klaus standing by a dead body. "If it makes you feel any better, we can kill Aurora together! Then neither of us need play her little mind games ever again, hmm?" Klaus was saying and began to leave.

"What's going on?" Marquez asked confused.

"Aurora." Elijah said bluntly. "Be safe. Perhaps visit your father." He said to Marquez before he followed after Klaus. They sighed and looked to the body for a moment, then just shook his head and headed out.

They headed straight to Rousseau's, slipping into a booth and pulled a laptop out as they had a drink and a plate of food by them.

"Marquez, how perfect to see you here." Tristan said and sat opposite him and raised an eyebrow. "Eyeliner?"

"I'm not actually a suit guy." He hummed. "Get with the times, darlin'. Guy's look good in eyeliner and I'm hot." He said with a flirtatious grin and a wink before looking back to the laptop. "I see you're joining me?"

"I hope you don't mind." He said. "Doing anything interesting."

"... No?" He said as he closed the tabs then the laptop itself before he moved it to the side, to pull his food in front of him. "So. What is it you want from me, honey?"

"Do you always use pet names rather than peoples names?"

"Just for the ones that annoyed me." He shrugged. "And the ones I find attractive."

Tristan looked amused, raising an eyebrow. "So which am I?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you attracted to me, or do I annoy you?"

"Which do you think, sweetheart?"

Tristan gave a half smile. "I'm not sure your family would approve of you flirting with me."

"I'm pretty sure Uncle Eli didn't approve of me killing his ex-girlfriend. So..." He raised his hands in a shrug. "But I'm not exactly ever going to be the golden child."

"Does Niklaus know you're one of us?"

"Really? You want me to have a pissed Hybrid ranting at me daily?" He asked, picking up his fork eating just in time for Tristan to be served his own food. "Besides, why'd you want me as a Strix?"

"You were either powerful or just a brat. So we either got a powerful Ally or-"

"You got me killed and hurt your sire by making him watch?"

"Well... It wouldn't have been the worst reaction."

"Yes, well. I took out your oldest member. Regret it?"

"A bit. The lecture was honestly more annoying than her death."

"Wow. Harsh, darlin'."

"I assume you have your reasons for wanting her dead specifically."

"She was going to leave you in a crate to drown. And then try and kill my family." They said casually. "Got a lot of your merry band killed."

Tristans hand had paused halfway to his mouth and lowered it. "... You're not lying." He said slowly.

"Very powerful witches in my family. One wanted a few things fixed. I was part of that plan, apparently. Which... fair. I'm a determined bastard in my own right." He hummed. "I'm sure you understand the want to protect family."

"That I do. So, you're from the future?"

"Alternate future... Timelines and such. I'll get into more sciencey stuff another time. I'm a tech guy, not chronologist or physicist in general." He hummed. "I plan on making sure you don't get trapped, if that's a worry?"

"Very nice of you."

"Mhmm. If you try to capture Rebekah or any other sibling, I'll kill you myself." He said with a sweet smile. "And touch Davina -"

"Ah. Your Kol's boy." He said. "No, wonder you're so..."

"Chaotic?"

"Reckless."

"Well. I can't die. So, why not?"

"You mother can."

"And I will pull her soul back, and I'll send you to an endless cycle of fire and death. And no promises of anyone you care for surviving." He hummed, picking up his coffee. "And honestly. I want everything to go smoothly. I like Aurora. And she'd prefer you to live. So..." He shrugged as he took a drink and raised an eyebrow.

"I believe we can come to an arrangement." He said, and they smiled at him.

"Perfect. I thought so. I really do look forward to working together to make sure everyone survives... Mostly." Tristan looked intrigued about to ask when a jar with a heart in it was placed between them.

Marquez didn't even look up, just moving to the back of the booth. Elijah slipped into the seat.

"Elijah. I didn't realize we had a meeting on the books today." Tristan drawled.

"We don't. Unfortunately, your assistant refused to accommodate me." Elijah said, tapping the jar and pushing it to him once more.

Tristan stared at it for a moment, looking annoyed and raised a napkin to wipe his face before he dropped it on to his plate. "What would you like to discuss?"

"Recent events would suggest you've been less than forthcoming about threats facing my family."

"A threat to you is a threat to me." He said confused, his heart suddenly racing.

"Naughtly. Little. Liar." Elijah said, eyes narrowed.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." Tristan said.

"Oh, I'm quite certain you do know precisely what I'm talking about, Tristan. I can hear that heart of yours racing away. You see, even as we speak, I suspect Niklaus is with your sister." Elijah said and pulled a bloodstained note out of his jacket. He placed it on the table between them. "I don't have to tell you what a volatile combination the two of them are."

"And you think I'm hiding her?"

"Where you go, Aurora follows."

"It's true, on her good days. Years ago, Rory fell into one of her dark periods. It's been a long one and has yet to lift. I saw she got the care she needed."

"I don't care. Where is she?"

A slow smile pulled onto Tristans lips. "Are you that afraid of what my sister might have to say to your brother?" He asked him.

"Your sister has a habit of cultivating misfortune."

"I can't disagree. And, as it happens, I don't know her current whereabouts, but I know she can't be here. I'm the first person she'd come to."

"I'm not so sure." He hummed and looked to Marquez. "Will you be leaving with me?"

Marquez looked from him to Tristan. "I'll... meet you at home?" He said simply. Elijah raised an eyebrow but nodded and headed away.

"You're staying with me today?"

"I'm bored. You're cute."

Tristan raised an eyebrow. "You're after something."

"Attention?" They hummed. "You kinda made me your problem."

"Is that right?"

"Mhmm." He shrugged. "I do this thing you see. When people decide they're like a friend or Something. I go smother mode until they kick me to the side, and I can go back to being my normal loner self. And you approached me first. You danced with me. And you dragged me into this... wonderful little cult. So. Your problem. Especially since you're doing the working with me thing." He said playfully.

"Hmm. I see. And if I have places to be?"

"I mean. Lucien is... not someone you actually wanna work with, no kidnapping my aunt and... Aurora's with uncle Nik so. What is it you have to do? I can help."

"Who says I'm working with Lucien?"

"Your sky rocketing heart rate?"

"Maybe I just find your scheming side attractive."

"Possible. But untrue. But if you want to do something about the attraction... I'm also down."

"Very forward of you."

"You've met my family. We don't really do shy."

"Of course. ...Allow me to get you dinner first?"

Marques seemed taken about pausing for a moment. "... Okay." He said slowly.

"Wonderful. I hear there's a wonderful exhibit not far from here." He said, picking up Auroras note as he stood and held out a hand. "Join me?"

Marquez grabbed his bag and slipped his laptop away, and took the hand as he stood. "Are you wine and dining me, Tristan?"

"I guess that is the plan, yes. Though you aren't dressed for places I'd usually go for, but, I'm sure we can compromise or go to a tailor." He hummed.

"Compromise." They told him easily.

~

Marquez was woken by teeth drawing over his throat, and they hummed, tilting their head to one side. "May I?" Tristan asked against their skin. They hesitated a moment before breathing out an agreement and teeth bit down as Tristan fed with a soft groan. Marquez moved a hand into his hair.

Tristan slowly stopped, and blood coated lips descended on his, and he moaned softly tongue darting out to taste his own blood. Tristan slowly pulled back, looking down at him, eyes trailed from his lips to the healed but blood striped throat.

"And you called me insatiable." Marquez murmured. "You woke me with your teeth, really?"

"It seemed the least invasive way, I had other thoughts." He hummed, one of his hands inched down their side until they stopped at their hip. "And you waking now means we can continue with that once more before your family hunts you down." He hummed. "Hmm. They may be a little busy." Marquez hummed and flipped their positions. He moved a hand, tracing his throat softly. "May I?" He asked gently, mimicking his question.

Tristan seemed caught off guard at the question. "Yes." He returned anyway and breathed out a soft moan as teeth pierced his skin.

Marquez hummed happily, tongue running over the small trail of blood as he pulled back and pressed kissed down his chest. Tristan flipped their positions again. "You're not in control here, darling." Tristan told him.

He just grinned and reached up to cup his face. "You sure?" Tristan raised an eyebrow before he caught both his wrists and pinned them to the bed with one hand.

"You may be faster, but in pure strength. I out power you." He said. His other hand was on their jaw and drew him into a biting kiss and trailed the hand to squeeze lightly at his throat. A small whine fell from Marquez's lips, and he felt the smug smile against his lips. Before either they could continue a phone rang. They both sighed, and Tristan pulled away. "Perhaps our timing was less ideal than I believed." He drawled.

"Yeah, got that." He murmured and looked at the date. "Then it's also thanksgiving." He muttered and sighed before he answered the phone as he stood casually, pulling his jeans on from the night before. "Hey, Uncle Eli. What's up?"

`Well, I thought I'd check where you were since you were meant to come home, and you aren't with your parents.`

"I am... on my way home now." He got out as he searched for his top.

`Right. Of course. I assume you're joining myself and Niklaus for thanksgiving?`

"If you're doing something, sure."

`Wonderful. Make sure Tristan is aware of his invite as well. We're having dinner.` The call cut out before he could respond.

"... I'm assuming your sister and Lucien were also invited, and you heard that." Marquez said as he turned, pulling his t-shirt on to see Tristan just fixing his tie.

"More than likely. I got the invitation, I've simply been unsure, due to it very obviously being a trap."

"Don't worry. I won't let the big bad Originals kill you."

"No. You'll do it yourself if you think I'm a threat." He hummed, walking to him and kissing him softly.

"Mhmmm." He hummed, easily returning the kiss. "So, I'll see you at dinner?"

"Perhaps, I'd hope to see my sister at some point before seeing her with Niklaus. But perhaps that's wishful thinking."

"I'm also excited to see your sister it's been a minute." He hummed. "I really do have to go. Shower and change an all that. Elijah has this thing about dinners and dressing up."

"It's called manners."

"It's called being extra and getting an upper hand by believing yourself better. You do the same thing." They said simply. "I can still beat your ass in my ripped, none designer clothes."

"Yes, but this is polite society, not a fight club."

"Dick." He laughed lightly. "I'm not a lawyer. I'm not going to dress like it." He told him. "I'll see you later, okay?"

"Of course, we also have to have a meeting soon about Elijahs protections with the Strix."

"Tomorrow. Or after dinner, and we can include Elijah... also probably Marcel."

"Sensible. See you tonight."

~

Marquez came from his room, hair slightly damp and new clothes, and was immediately confronted by Elijah and Kol, making him still.

"You SLEPT with Tristan?!" Kol asked.

Marquez took a slight step back. "I... Did you have someone tail me?" They asked, looking to Elijah.

"Marcel had someone watching Tristan." He said simply.

"Not exactly interesting to follow him with me."

"Yes, apparently, he was incredibly distracted taking you on a dates."

"What is the issue here?"

"It's Tristan." Kol said simply. "He's not good for you." Marquez eyes snap to him, annoyed at the comment.

"It wasn't serious, I didn't marry the guy." He muttered. "Besides. Tristan isn't the issue here."

"Then who IS."

"Lucien." He said and pushed past the two men and downstairs.

"There you are!" Hope said. "We're doing it today. That was your timeline."

"Mhmm. And I'm dragging the Aurora We knew forward."

"Why?"

"She's more independent and less likely to ... I don't know. Be obsessed with your father and let Lucien manipulate that."

"She still loved him."

"But was aware he was an arse."

"Same as her brother."

"Lucien. Lucien is the one you're planning to kill?" Elijah asked, entering Kol at his side, still looking annoyed.

"Yep. I'm going to rip his heart out."

"You kill Aya. Why don't I get to kill Lucien?" Hope cut in.

"... Because you're the nice cousin?" He reasoned. "The sensible one."

"The one that wouldn't sleep with an enemy of our family unlike my child, it seems." Kol added.

"You slept with Tristan!?"

"Oh my god." He sighed. "It's so not a big deal. We went to an art show, he bought me dinner, I went back to his. Big whoop."

"Tristan is Insane." Kol snapped.

"Yeah, well apparently, so am I? And he is... more trusting than expected. He let me bite him." He shrugged.

"Damn. You could have killed him." Hope said with pause.

"Not that he knows that."

"What?" Kol said, confused.

"I'm a Grim."

"Someone sacrificed you?!" Kol asked. "Are they dead?"

"You killed them... a week later. But yeah." He nodded, shrugged.

"... Good." He said, looking unsure. "What's your ward?"

Hope looked to Marquez, crossing her arms, waiting for him to respond as he looked away from his dad. "You know. He's still uncle Kol, right?" Hope said when the silence dragged on.

"Okay. Tell Uncle Nik you dated a guy who almost killed you." He hummed.

"No. What the hell?"

"Or Carolines daughter." He added. Hope crossed her arms. "That Alaric Saltzman taught you to fight."

"Okay. Sometimes honesty sucks. Got it."

"You're just... keeping your Ward. What you have to protect, a secret?" Kol asked, annoyed. "From family. Did you not grow up with `Always and Forever`?"

Hope laughed as they groaned. "Dumb family saying." Marquez muttered and removed the band from his wrist.

"The Strix?" Kol said, looking mildly annoyed.

"Not the Strix."

"Tristan?" Elijah asked carefully as Kol stilled.

"You're kidding?" Kol said lowly.

"Nope. Turns out we can't kill him."

"And what you decided sleeping with him was a better option?" Kol drawled. "I don't think your mother -"

"My mom is the same age as me right now and with You. My mother can't judge. Remember your brother tried to kill her multiple times, killed her boyfriend, and your mother also wanted her dead. Your father, too, after she had him linked to her, a link You broke." They ranted. "And if you want to mention the age thing, I'll refer you to the fact we are the Same Age. And you and Tristan aren't that different in age either." Kol went silent, just glaring. "Any other comments?"

"He's a psychopath. Absolutely crazy."

"Didn't you used to be? I know about mystic falls. I mean, it's very much a source of issues for me and Hope at school. Klaus sacrificed people, and you went on killings sprees. I also met Jeremy Gilbert. But the want to kill him out ways the story he told since he.. ya know, killed you."

"You have an answer for Everything, don't you?"

"Yes."

"... You realise he played at being Elijah for 100 years?"

"You realise I can tell the difference between my Uncle and a thousand year old french vampire with an ego, right? Aurora played at being Rebekah. Doesn't stop Lucien or Uncle Nik. And I never knew that version of Tristan. Don't make it weird."

"It's not already weird?"

"... Davina sees Marcel as a father figure. Marcel sees Klaus as a father figure since he's known him since he was 11. Yet, he and Rebekah got married, and you married mom. Giving Marcel a weird... almost brother relationship with Hope and cousin/grandparent overprotectiveness with Me. Klaus and Hayley had Hope. But Hayley's in love with Uncle Eli. Not the first time Uncle Elijah and Nik liked the same woman. Aunt Freya has a spouse who started as someone she kidnapped. No one in this family is normal. Weird is the default." He said casually. Elijah was the one who looked more uncomfortable. "I can also mention you and Mom fell in love while you possessed the body of a teen witch, and mom was barely 17, if you want?"

Kol glared. "I assume this means back off your love life?"

"Please."

"Done. No more trying to break down mine, and Davinas relationship."

"Deal."

"... We get married?" He asked softly.

"You do. It's real sweet wedding, actually."

"We already had you?"

"Mhmm. For a while. I was ... eight?"

"Seven." Hope corrected. "I was ten. so..." She shrugged.

"That makes sense." He nodded. "But things are different this time around, Dad. So just... do what you want. Even if that's not having a kid, marrying sooner or later. Whatever."

"Woah. You're rallying for us not to have you?"

"I was a lot of work. And then I died and came back wrong. It's your decision. I'm just reminding you ... Just because I'm here doesn't mean you Have to do the same things again."

"We all came back weird. It's a family tradition." Kol said bluntly. "As long as this time, I wasn't part of the death."

"You didn't kill me. There's a dinner to prep for." He hummed and looked to Hope. "You going with Hayley and Jackson or here?"

"I don't know. I think mom wants me there."

"I would also prefer you away from danger." Klaus spoke up, and Hope rolled her eyes. "Christmas can be family celebration day here. Thanksgivings got the betrayal part inbuilt. Perfect for dinner with our enemies."

"And ... I was invited?" Marquez said slowly.

"Yes, well. You did sleep with Tristan. But as I slept with Aurora. I guess I can't judge." Klaus drawled.

"Poor Lucien. Only Trinity member not to have a hook up at the table." Marquez drawled.

"And Elijah just won't take one for the team!" Klaus said jokingly. Marquez couldn't stop the laughter as Hope and Elijah both sighed, looking both exasperated and disgusted at the idea.

"I mean, Lucien fits your type, Mar." Hope said casual. "Taller than you, has money, vaguely obsessive habits. Easy to manipulate once they like you."

"Wow... you make me seem Awful."

"Very gold digger, blackwidow... impressive. But you have money, you're a Mikaelson." Klaus said dryly.

"I like going places and getting information. It's a... this guy has money and status, so they make a fun few days. I dated... three Strix guys in my time? How I knew the habits. They talk a lot for the fact its a secret society." He said calmly. "And I didn't sleep with them all. I don't actually have that many people I've slept with Hope."

"Right. Because you're manipulating them because they tried to use you for sex."

"... Pretty much." He shrugged. "I see it as a fair reaction. They got a hot date. I had an interesting time. Learned some things, then we part ways."

"Didn't Marcel kill two of them?"

"Yeah. One called me a Stuck-up Prude for not sleeping with him... At a strix party. In front of Marcel. He took his head off. That was fun. And he was the last guy I dated from there. Fuckers suddenly decided I wasn't just fun."

"Marcel killed a Vampire at a strix party?" Elijah asked.

"Well... He was in charge; charter an all that."

"Excuse me?" Elijah asked.

"It won't happen this time. Aya's dead." He hummed bluntly. "And she can't manipulate the Strix. The witches or use Dad against mom and Mom against Marcel."

"Right. That's why you killed her. She threatened your mother."

"Mhmm. No one threatens my mother. Ever." He said simply eyes on Elijah then smiled easily. "Now. Dinner?"

Hope laughed. "Uncle Kol, mom said you and Davina were invited to join us." She said, and Kol looked at her.

"Davina would like that. She was going to invite Cami around, I think."

"I'll mention it to Mom." Hope said easily as they both headed out. Kol threw Marques a final look.

"So, we can't kill Tristan?" Elijah asked.

"No." He shrugged and sighed. "I will physically put myself between you. Don't... Don't tell him. Not ready to deal with that. But we can tear Lucien black heart from his chest."

"You really don't like him." Klaus hummed.

"He hurt Freya." He said, simply shrugging. "And a few other people. But yeah. He's what sets off part of the prophecy."

"The... self fulfilling one?"

"Yeah. He does it on purpose. He wants to be your downfall. He's not. One of you killing an ally was the start of your downfall. I intend to make sure Lucien doesn't get as far as His attempt. Meaning; we don't get the other."

"Me." Elijah said. "I kill someone, don't I?"

"Yeah. You do. But... we aren't talking about it. It's over. Everyone came back from that issue." He hummed. "So, we let it go."

"Is that why Hope was so unsure around me at the start?"

"Uncle Eli... Let's not talk about it. 20 years is a long time, and lots of drama."

"Ah, so I do something else."

"No. You don't. Because it's not gonna happen. And it hasn't." He said simply. "Every single one of you fuck up. Okay? It's a Mikaelson trait." He said. "Suck it up." He said simply. "Lucien dies. Today. So everyone Lives."

"Okay." Klaus nodded lightly. "After we confront him and Tristan about working together."

"Okay."

"You knew?" Marquez looked at him unimpressed and walked passed them.

[akwolfgrl]

LFT PART 37

Sanji made his last round inside his galley, Mr. Noodles sat perched on a bar stool watching him. The roses that Zoro got him were still sitting in the jar where he left them. He needed to figure out what he wanted to do with them. Sanji slid some butter into his apron pocket to soften.

Sanji finished unloading everything he had bought at the market this morning. There were still a few cartes of things waiting for him to deconstruct. Sanji had scored a crate of fresh unwashed eggs. He would water glass them later tonight. He left out the stuff he needed to make a batch of kimchi and a new marinade for Luffy's jerky. The meat was in the freezer to firm up for easier slicing. He also left out the prime rib he got on sale for dinner tonight. He had the perfect seasoning for them.

Sanji cut the core of napa cabbages out, placing them into the bucket he was using for a compost pile, they used to have one on the Baratie they would give it to a local farmer who they worked with to get fresh produce. There were things that even he could not salvage and use, but the compost was a good compromise since it fertilized and grew more food. He split the leafy vegetable apart with his hands. It was hard to get used to such a quiet kitchen. He was used to the hustle and bustle of the Baratie. The chefs arguing, the waiters yelling out food orders. Everything about the kitchen was loud and controlled chaos. Well, Sanji did sort of miss having someone he could talk to.

“OK so I know you're a cat, and you don't understand what I'm saying, but I don't care. Right now, I'm making kimchi. It's spicy, sour, and so good. A chef who used to work at the Baratie before settling ashore and marrying a sweet woman showed me how to make it,” Sanji began to chop the pieces of cabbage up. “I'm doing the shortcut method. Usually, you don't chop it up, but I like it better this way,” Sanji put all the cabbage into the large bowl. “Then we just wash and salt the cabbage until it wilts and the water from the inside of the cabbage is drawn out by the salt,” Sanji would leave it overnight with something heavy on top.

Mr. Noodles had at some point hopped from his stool to wind his way around Sanji's legs purring. He was ecstatic to have something small and cute to care for. Clementine may have been Zeff’s cat but she did like him and barely tolerated the other chefs. It had been his job to brush her long silky golden fur. She had been a very pretty kitty, with one gold eye and one blue. Mr. Noodles was of course very handsome with his soft slick black fur.

“Zeff my old man, although I'd never call him that to his face, had a ship cat, her name was Clementine,” Sanji took out the bowl he used previously for the marinade. Mixing soy sauce, worcestershire, orange juice, and zest , he whisked in honey, brown sugar, grated ginger, and chopped garlic. He threw some habaneros into his mortar and grinded them down into a nice paste before adding them as well. “I remember the look on Zeff’s face after we got off the Rock. Clementine had gotten off their pirate ship shortly before they attacked the Orbit. It's said that cats can sense doom. Anyway, we stayed on an island while we recovered, and one day, she walked right up to Zeff as if she had only been out for a stroll. She died shortly before Luffy came crashing in. Zeff had been practically testy lately, so that didn't help him at all,” Sanji covered the marinade and placed it into the fridge.

“I think after I'm done with my prep, I'll head back out for some personal shopping and check out the fish market. Maybe I'll be nice to our sentient plant life and pick up a sword cleaning kit. He doesn't have much money and would be more focused on buying swords. Why he needs three? I'm not sure, but that's his thing, I suppose,” Sanji took a paper towel to dry the prime ribs, or else it would reject the butter. He stabbed holes into the top of the meat. While he did know how to trim meat, it had come pre-trimmed and on sale to good of a deal to pass up. “I haven't seen him use it at all while we've been on this ship and there's no way that his sword hasn't been well kept in the past,” He took the softened butter out of his pocket and upwarped it, placing it into a small bowl. “Maybe I'll grab some ink for Nami-swan! I can't get Marimo and not my sweet Nami,” Sanji tossed in chopped rosemary and thyme, salt, pepper, Dijon mustard, and a bit of worcestershire then he mixed it. “I should pick another notebook while I'm out, I might as well grab something for Luffy and Usopp while I'm at it. Just so I don't have to hear them whining.”

Sanji stabbed holes into the fatty part of the meat and used butter to lube up the sliced garlic and rosemary, slipping them into the holes. He coated the prime ribs in the rest of the butter before placing them in the fridge. After a quick clean-up, Sanji was ready to head out. With a goodbye scratch to Mr. Noodles Sanji left the Going Merry

[dojapat]

Kirara Rising Chapter 8

There I was with my knees pressed against the shabby dirt that neighbored the motel concrete where I had my first kiss. Hakari sat down on a small upturned crate. His face was contemplative. I think he was reevaluating his life as much as I was.

“I’m so sorry… I,” I stammered trying to amend the situation.

“No… no… nothing to be sorry for it was… it was nice.”

“For real?..,” I said turning my head toward him, doing everything in my power not to cry

“Yeah, that was… really nice,” Hakari stuck his hands in his pockets and smiled at the ground. He paused for a second and said, “Have you ever done anything like that before?,” I sat up in the dirt.

“No… never… have you,” I responded.

“Yeah, I’ve had girlfriends… we had sex and stuff, but…” he paused to find the words. “but it was never like that…”

“Like different how?,” I timidly asked, holding my limp fist in front of my heart.

“Well with them I was doing it because that’s what you’re supposed to do. You get with a girl, you fuck her and the passion burns out. One girl maxed out my credit card and that was hot but only because of the risk of losing money and not because I liked her, but with you. I’m glad you did that. It felt real with you.”

“Are you gay or bi or something?,” I asked.

“Well, I don’t like guys. I just like you.”

“I don’t get it…”

“Yeah me neither… how are you doing?...”

I couldn’t respond. My throat couldn’t will itself to speak. I was overwhelmed with brand new emotions.

I was finally able to whimper something out, “I feel like I’m… I feel like…”

“Wait,” Hakari interrupted me. “I want to say something real quick,” His words snapped me back to reality.

“You’ve always had a magnetism to you,” Hakari said, coming closer to me. He knelt in front of me and held my hands in his, “I’d see you in class and I’d never know what to say,” his eyes darted down in embarrassment. “I just wanted to root around your head and see how you tick, but I never got why I couldn’t just ask.”

“Hakari…”

“No. Kinji. My name is Kinji. You can call me Kin. What should I call you?”

My first name was, (redacted) a strong masculine name my father had selected before I was even conceived. I couldn’t bring myself to say it. I didn’t want that name. I wanted a name that glittered. A fabulous, flamboyant name. A name that made me feel the fever every time I heard it.

“Kirara,” I told Kin. I coughed the name out like I was spitting water out of my lungs.

“Kirara…,” Kin said as he smiled. “It’s beautiful, what do you want to be, Kirara.” His grip on my hands became subtly tighter. I could feel the warmth of his hands spread through my whole body.

“I want to be a gorgeous wife to a man I love.”

Kin smiled trying his best to keep composure. I could see the tears welling up in his eyes.

I remembered my father. His voice that had burrowed its way in my brain like a parasite, ’(Redacted), you are an extension of me. That is your only reason for being. Never forget that,’ I finally was able to speak. I gagged on my words as they came out.

“And in another life I’d want to be your wife.”

His face dropped to be as emotionless as a corpse.

“I’m a traditionalist by birthright, Kin.”

He was kneeling in the same position unflinching. I removed my hands from his and they fell limp at his side. I stood up to look down on him as I was the higher up and he was my subordinate.

“I’ll always be in love with you, Kin. But I can’t love you.”

Without passion. Without heat. Without the fever… I politely bowed to him and took my leave. I was stoic and harsh. Just as a good higher up should be.

I walked away at an appropriate pace. Leaving Kin kneeling. The once happy tears of passion that had weld up in his eyes, coldly fell down his face.

I entered our room. Next to the beds where we conspired to sneak out. I grabbed Maki’s cursed blade. ‘Not out of respect for Maki,’ I thought but only because I couldn’t leave a cursed weapon unattended.

That was the right thing to do.

On my way out I stepped on a tube of lipstick Kin had accidentally dropped. I picked it up ‘not because I loved him and wanted a memento,’ I thought. Only to confiscate it. Males shouldn’t wear such things.

That was the right thing to do.

With that I walked away. Away from the mission. Away from the town. Away from Ijichi. Away from the fever. Away from Kinji Hakari. I wanted to die, but I always wanted to die whenever I embraced my destiny as a higher up so I was used to it. I walked. I walked. I walked. I walked. I walked. I walked. I walked. I walked. I didn’t care where I went. I just wanted to be away from the happiness that would betray my birthright.

’(Redacted), you are an extension of me. That is your only reason for being. Never forget that.’

The words echoed from a deep pit in my soul.

Little did I know my death wish might have been closer than it seemed. I couldn’t notice beyond my grief. A healthy person would’ve become nauseous and their vision would’ve blurred, but I was already feeling that.

For what I entered was a place of violence and lethality. A domain.

[yoyoslumodernau]

links awakening

This is quite long :[l]

It was an early summer morning, Legend had quickly been put to work by Malon who had wanted him to feed the horses and to water the plants on the porch.

Of course, his brothers were doing other things as well. Wind had been in charge of sweeping the floor of the deck and cleaning the bathrooms while Twilight did some heavy lifting around the ranch.

“Hey kiddo, your mother wanted me to ask you if you wanted to go to the store with her. Do you want to?”

Legend looked over and saw Time leaning against the door, putting his weight on his hand. “

Yeah, tell her I need a few minutes.”

Time nodded and was about to leave when,

“Thanks, dad.”

Legend quickly went to put the watering can away, embarrassed at the fact he finally mustered the courage to address his new father correctly.

Now he was going to be held to that standard for a while, that title was going to take some time to get used to.

He grabbed his shoes and made his way to the car.

“You ready to go? I was just wondering if you needed anything for you and Thief. If you want you can get some new clothes or just something that tickles your fancy,”

Malon said as legend hopped into the seat next to her. Legend looked around the store. Apparently you could find anything here, so he decided to look for some rabbit feed.

“Hello stranger, how can I help you today?"

Legend jumped a bit at the sudden voice, he turned to see a boy around his height wearing a purple rabbit hood, covering his face.

“Oh, I'm ok, just looking for some rabbit feed.”

The hooded boy nodded,

“Oh! Another pet owner, I have a bird named Sheerow. He's such a sweetheart, let me take you to that food.”

With that he grabbed Legends wrist and led him to one of the isles.

“Here we are, rabbit feed. My personal suggestion is this one since it has all the good stuff but costs way less. The trick here is that they hide all the best items where you don't look so you buy the expensive garbage.”

Legend nodded, “thanks, but why are you telling me? If you work here, shouldn't you be trying to not help me?”

He then noticed the lack of a name tag, weird for someone who works at a store like this.

“Oh no, I've gotta hide. Quick! Pretend you don't know me.”

With that, the purple hooded boy dashed behind a large sale sign, his shoes still visible and quite noticeable. Legend quickly kicked a crate in his direction to hide the rest of him.

“Hey kid, have you seen a boy around your age ‘round here? Wears purple, black hair? Super annoying and tries to sell you stuff?”

Legend looked over to see a large man standing over him.

“No, I haven't. Why do you want to see him anyway? If he's my age he's probably not that bad.”

The older man scoffed, “well, for one he keeps driving my customers off. Two, he's a lorulean.”

Legend wore a confused expression, “what's wrong with loruleans? I took a trip to lorule once and they are great artists and have quite an interesting culture.”

“The only kinda art they do is con art. All those Loruleans here are only interested in stealing important things and stuff. Nobody can trust them, that's why none of them should have a future in a place like this. They almost destroyed their home, who says they ain't trying to destroy ours.”

Legend gave the man a cold stare, “I am.”

His icy blue eyes cut through and the older man backed off, “Alright, if you do see him though, I'll get you a good discount on your items.”

“Fat chance.”

The man left and legend heard a sigh of relief come from the sign.

“He's gone. You can stop hiding now” Legend affirmed, watching the purple rabbit hood pop out from behind its hiding spot.

“Thank you so so much. How can I repay you mister hero!”

“Um, it's Legend. You can start by telling me your name. I wanna know who I just stuck my neck out for."

The boy removed his purple hood, revealing a pair of emerald green eyes. His hair was as dark as obsidian and sat in a wavy mop on top of his head.

“My name is Ravio. I really mean it when I say thank you. Not many people will stick out for my kind of people. Not after they stole your relics.”

“Don't worry about it. I shouldn't matter where you're from, we're all people and we're all alike.”

Ravio smiled, “here, I've been saving this for someone and, well, I thought I could give this to you. I think you'll take good care of it.”

He handed Legend a gold bracelet with a pink jewel in the center.

“Thanks, it's really nice. Hey, it kinda matches my hair.”

Ravio nodded, “that's what I was thinking! We should meet up again, mister hero. I still owe you a ton for saving me from that guy.”

With that, Ravio left the store, waving at Legend through the window. As legend reached his hand out to wave back he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Did you find everything you were looking for ok?” Legend turned around and saw his mother with a full shopping cart.

“Oh yeah, here's Thiefs feed. Should last him a few months.” Malon nodded, “who's your new friend?”

“His name's Ravio, he's really nice.” Legend smiled a bit, “yeah… I mean, not really.”

He was desperately trying to fix his little mistake, feeling his face turn the same shade of pink as his hair as malon started to laugh.

“It's ok sweetheart, I have a husband and a son with a girlfriend. I think I know when a guy likes someone. Don't worry, your little crush is safe with me.”

Legend's face held a amused look, knowing shee probably tell her husband, “alright, thanks mom.”

[oexen]

cw hoarding + mentions of animal and child neglect

is it really gonna take me telling my mother its extremely concerning to have PILES of cat waste just. around. in the house

like i know shes going to flip the fuck out at me in some way or another, be very angry or sad or hurt or some secret other option and like. she misgenders and deadnames me as if i never shared the info with her, the crux of our relationship is financial and thats even pretty minimal. like yeah maybe its sincerely not my problem and i KNOW you cant help someone who doesnt want to be helped, but i dont want to inherit a cat piss soaked infested brick.... thing. no fucking way dude. that shit realistically probably has to be gutted ngl, its fucking awful. shes a hoarder and never really touched my old bedroom so i have some stuff there, stuff id actually like to take even, but the smell is literally pervasive to the point that books smell like it on the fucking inside.

like shes actually at the point her neckbeard nest doesnt register as a problem to her. even with... another person who is not me having to actually go inside of the house??? i like cannot fathom whats going on inside that god forsaken head of hers, she asked me why i was wearing a mask inside and turned around and walked away before i could even say anything, lmfao.

i couldnt spend more than one night in her house and had a mask on the whole time because it fucking blew so hard to be in there. this fucking idiot got 3 huge WORKING dogs (pyrenees and a burmese mtn dog) because its "in her life plan" (news to me lmao!) and tldr she impulse bought them because theyre cute. shes never fucking home, works 9-5 and theyre crated a lot of the time and its fucking horrible to see, i freaked the absolute fuck out on her when i first heard that she had new puppies like what 2 years ago? fucking neglecting the elderly dogs she already had in favor of getting these for some fucking reason, "no more dogs after this one dies" turns into 3 giant stupid fucking untrained, neglected mistakes. the singular saving grace is that they have a big yard to run around in, but that doesn't do a hell of a lot of good when it's hot and this idiot refuses to walk them when shes home anyway. couldn't possibly be because theyre untrained and will drag her stupid ass down the street fr. i think im going to literallt snail mail the next door neighbor or maybe even both of them because like.... what the actual fuck is she doing with these dogs. GET HELP.

ive been telling this absolute knob for YEARS she needs to chill out and do something else (like 3 of her closest blood relatives died in the past several years, 2 of which she was literally caretaking, and she still volunteers at a fucking hospice and has NEVER SOUGHT BEREAVEMENT COUNSELING, LET ALONE COUNSELING IN GENERAL), she keeps saying shes fucking fine and we have LITERALLY had the exchange where she says it to my face and i gesture around and say CLEARLY!!!!!

Anyway. the dogs. shes going to get worse and i know it and im just so disgusted by the prospect of having to like lay it all out probably because no one else will, and i guess i care because its literally affecting me, i sat and wrote all this because im cleaning stuff i took from her house like books and SEALED ITEMS THAT ALSO SMELL LIKE CAT PISS ON THE INSIDE OF THE PACKAGING????????? and got triggered. but whatever. this woman treated me like shit and neglected me for my entire childhood and turns it around and goes WHATDIEVERDOTOYOU if i so much as refuse a hug even this far down the line, its been nearly 10 years since ive lived with her, and like. holy fuck. and she doesnt have a single fucking clue lol like idk its also just like pathetic and sad to see a person go through this, even though she gives me mmmm essentially nothing but feelings of disgust when i really think about it. its just fucked and everyones dying or doesnt care or doesnt feel like they can say anything and im like. idk. i could literally bring this up to lots of people she knows, i could find a damn way, but like yaknow..... it fucking sucks so hard to have to do all this bc this woman is literally severely mentally ill and needs a fucking hand but it sure as shit isnt going to be mine, at least not physically. god.