#millions of peaches in one's lifetime

[astravires]

Movin' to the country, I'm gonna eat a lot of peaches

hello again for gloomie's femboy friday; this time it's 90s grunge!

[ghoststyles]

Meet Me In Augusta

A quick little check-in for Fairway to Heaven ❤️ inspired by my beefy hunky man at the Masters 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

SMUT. FLUFF. That’s all.

———————————————————————————

When Briar and Harry first got together, she thought she’d won the lottery. A doting, strong boyfriend who puts her needs above his own. He cares for her dog as much as she does, gets along with her family members, and donates to charity regularly. It’s like the heavens handmade him. And yes, the reverse is true on Harry’s part. She’s his dream girl, and the bloody best thing to ever happen to him. But, where he’d truly won the lottery differs slightly:

He won tickets to the Masters.

It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity to attend one of the four major golf tournaments, and when Harry entered his name in the lottery system the year before, he never thought he’d see the day where his bucket list item would be checked off.

Briar is lounging on Harry’s couch, watching old episodes of Real Housewives (NY, obviously) with Gus at her feet and a bowl of popcorn and M&Ms beside her when she hears a completely manly and dignified shriek from Harry’s office. Sitting up in alarm, she opens her mouth to yell back to him, to make sure he’s okay, just as the heavy oak double doors swing open. Shirtless and in his Calvin Klein boxer briefs and socks, Harry sprints down the hall, phone in hand as he leaps over the back of the sofa to stand beside her.

“What on Earth! Harry, you’re scaring me! Is there a mouse? Where are your clothes?” Briar screams, jumping up to crouch on the sofa and cocooning herself in her blanket in case there’s a spider clinging to him.

Harry is laughing maniacally, and every so often an oh my god leaving his mouth. He nods to whomever he’s talking to on the phone as if they can see him before thanking them and hanging up.

He drops the phone, eyes wide and meeting hers. Grabbing her shoulders, he all but tackles her back to the sofa, signaling Gus to bark at him for hurting his mom. They’re on the settee part of the sofa, Harry’s arms wrapped around her, preventing her from moving, even if she wanted to.

“Harry! Tell me what’s going on right now!” Briar’s shrill voice finally brings him back to Earth.

He peppers kisses on her neck before shouting in her ear, “I’M GOING TO THE MASTERS!”

She doesn’t respond, not because she’s not supportive of his enthusiasm, but because she has no idea what that is. Feigning a smile, she replies, “wow, baby, that’s great!”

Craning his neck, his brows furrow when he meets her gaze, a clear indicator she’s confused.

“Birdie, do you know what the Masters is?”

“Mmmm, is it like MasterChef?”

Harry squawks out a laugh, shaking his head, “No, my love. The Masters is one of the big four golf tournaments for the PGA. When you win, you earn a green jacket and become a member of Augusta National in Georgia. And then you get to plan a celebration dinner. Plus, you win like, $3,000,000.”

“Ohhhh, okay, yes. Uncle Patrick has gone to that, I think. He didn’t win, though.”

Harry’s brows furrow even more, a bewildered look gracing his features, “We’ll come back to that later. I have a lot of questions. But, you enter a lottery to win tickets and I won! Otherwise, tickets are almost a million dollars.”

“A million dollars!? The course better be made of solid gold. I can’t even believe the stuff people spend their money on sometimes.”

“Tiger Woods will be there. He hasn’t played in a few years because of injuries. Baby, I could be near Tiger!” he smacks her ass, eliciting a yelp.

He hops up from his spot on the sofa as he looks outside with the biggest smile on his face, running his hands through his not-so-there curls on his head. He’d shaved it a few months ago impulsively; that was a crisis Briar never thought she’d see the other side of. But his peach fuzzy head grew on her.

“When is it?”

“Second weekend in April. Are you doing anything?”

“Me? Why wouldn’t you take Niall?”

“He and Lydia already have a wedding that weekend back in Ireland. I already asked him.”

“So, I’m your second choice!?” Briar smacks the sofa cushion beside her, faking offense.

Harry rolls his eyes, “You didn’t even know what it was five minutes ago, brat.”

She parrots his eye rolling, leaning down to snuggle Gus. They’re quiet for a moment, letting Harry soak in the news.

“Wait, why don’t you have clothes on?”

“Oh, I stripped them off as they were telling me I got the tickets. I was just too excited,” he responds casually, as if the answer is obvious.

———————————————————————————

So the pair is in Augusta, Georgia, watching Harry’s childhood dream come true. The problem? No phones allowed.

To maintain their traditional values, Augusta National banned the use of cellphones. Briar’s lovely boyfriend failed to remind her of this fact until they were in the back of an Uber heading to the course.

“No phones!? I wanted to document this whole experience for you!” She whines, gently squeezing his wrist.

“Thanks for wanting to do that, Birdie, but it’s okay. My generation isn’t addicted to their phones. We like to live in the moment.”

“Oh my god,” she snorts, punching him lightly. If anyone is on their phone too much, it’s Harry. His entire day is determined by solving the New York Times Connections puzzle. What do you MEAN the theme was ice cream flavors without the last letter?

“What if we get separated? How will I find you?”

“Did you pack your leash?” Harry smirks, waiting for her to smack him again.

“H! Quiet,” she snarls, trying not to look if the driver is listening. “Fine. Do they collect the phones or do they just kick you out if they see it?”

“I think they kick you out and you’re not allowed back, ever. There’s also no running. It’s hilarious. When everyone is trying to follow around the big names, it turns into a speed walking competition to try and beat them to the hole.”

She hums, looking out the window at the gorgeous scenery. She hasn’t spent much time down south, but this trip has changed her opinion of this part of the country. They’ve had beautiful dinners at night on patios and taken walks on historic grounds.

“Good news is, the food and drinks are super cheap, and I think you have some French 75’s calling your name.”

“Yesss!”

The Uber turns, the beautiful gates to the course opening as they pull in. The white building before them is gorgeous and neatly kept, embodying the prestige of the entire event. For a moment, she thinks Harry is tearing up. Harry snaps a photo of the two of them in front of the building to send to Niall and Patrick.

He grabs her hand and squeezes gently as he flashes their credentials to the security guard.

“Lead the way, baby,” Briar whispers, linking her arm with his as they stand outside the car, taking it all in.

Like a kid in a candy store, Harry drags her by the wrist, slaloming through the crowds of people as they all try to make it to the entrance.

Harry looks fucking good today. He’s donning a navy blue sweater on top of a cobalt blue golf shirt. His taupe pinstripe pants are pressed perfectly. His fingers are decked out in rings of all different finishes, and his Prada sunglasses fit his scruffy face perfectly.

The finishing touch, his shoes, are what has Briar giggling to herself. His black Hoka sneakers are throwing off the whole vibe. She tried to change his mind as they packed, but we’ll be walking a lot, and I don’t want my plantar fasciitis to come back!

To make the occasion even more special, Briar let Harry pick out her outfits. She knew he’d pick out her lavender sports dress, a classic piece she whips out when they play on weekends so he’s frustrated and thrown off his game. She’s 3 for 4 on this strategy.

Harry loves the way it cuts at Briar’s strong thighs, and shows a little bit of her back. To elevate the look, she tied a white Hermes scarf around her neck just like Daphne! Her shoes are white Vince Camuto sneakers with no support. She knows she can’t whine later if her feet hurt, in fear of hearing a relentless, I told you so!

Before examining his choices in her suitcase, she zeros in on the lack of underwear and bras. She knows he also picked her floor length, black bodycon dress. He’s really pushing the limits of voyeurism with these picks.

They finally make it past security, thankful they didn’t confiscate her purse, a gift from Harry that is just a smidgen too large for their rules. He leads them to the main clubhouse to grab their first drinks of the day, and maybe even a breakfast sandwich.

They start off with mimosas to ease into the day drinking, because Harry is too fucking old for daydrinking and Briar is a menace when she drinks when the sun is up. By their third round, Harry is full on fangirling as all the players buzz around him. He’s allowed to fangirl all he wants, but when she wants to gush about One Direction for a minute, he covers his ears. Eyeroll.

Briar snaps out of her brattiness, deciding she needs some food in her stomach. As they’re gathered on the 8th hole, she starts to “koala” him, as he so lovingly calls it. She wraps her arms around him from behind, laying her chin on his bicep.

“What’s wrong, Birdie? Hungry?”

Briar lightly bites his arm, looking up to meet his sideways gaze. Part of her hates how well he knows her. She slides her hands in his front pockets, making him wiggle uncomfortably.

“Be good,” he says lowly so only they can hear.

“Okay, Daddy,” she says sweetly, smiling up at him. “But yes, I’m hungry.”

Briar can feel him hesitate, clearly conflicted in what to do next.

“Okay, baby, but,” he pauses. “Tiger is at this hole next, and I’d really like to see it.”

Briar slumps, making a slight hmmph sound. She knows better, and knows how important this is to him, so she shakes it off.

“It’s alright, I can go back to the clubhouse by myself. Will you stay here so I don’t lose you?”

“Of course,” he leans down to gently peck her lips, before his head whips around as Tiger arrives at the tee box just a few feet from them, sending the crowd into a chaotic roar. She reluctantly lets go of his waist, crossing her arms over herself as she walks away.

The crowd has only increased as they arrived, and she’s honestly overwhelmed. A staff member nearby can sense her unsettled demeanor, so he asks if she’d like a ride back to the building.

She smiles at him, “Yes, that’d be lovely! Thank you so much.”

Trey, the worker, doesn't say much, but Briar isn’t one for awkward silences. She tells him about Harry, Wynnewood, and how this is a lifelong dream for him to be here. He nods along, visibly recoiling after finding out Briar isn’t single. She hops off the cart as they approach the doors, and waves a friendly goodbye.

Perusing the snack bar, her eyes are bigger than her stomach. She grabs grapes, potato chips, a turkey sandwich, and even a pudding cup. A nice man helps her condense her items into a cardboard box for carrying. She grabs a fresh squeezed lemonade to finish off her deliciously simple lunch.

Slightly tipsy and overly giddy, she finds a bench to start eating. It’s amazing the different walks of life at this event; the die-hards who don’t care about the glamor of it all, and the ones that are here only as a status symbol. It’s honestly nice not having her phone; she’s a little more in touch with her surroundings.

Taking small bites of her sandwich, she’s startled when another man approaches her on the bench.

“Pardon me, miss. Are you Miss Barlowe?”

Taken back, she nods as she swallows her bite, “Yes, can I help you?”

“Mr. Styles is on the line over there,” he points to the hilariously old fashioned phone stand, where 3 mossy green phones hang on the wooden stand. “He just wanted to make sure you were doing alright.”

Briar smiles, patting her mouth with her napkin and rising to her feet, “Thank you so much. Do I have to do anything to connect to the call?”

“Just press # and it should connect. I’ll be right over there if you have trouble.”

She laughs to herself as she approaches and presses the ‘#’ just as he said, “Hello?”

“What are you wearing right now?”

“Who is this?” She plays along.

“Your handsome, charming boyfriend,” he muses.

“I have a few of those, so you’re going to have to narrow it down,” she fakes a sultry tone.

“Briar – come on, you know I don’t like those jokes,” he mutters.

She laughs, twirling the curly phone cord around in her hand, “I feel like Carrie Bradshaw with this phone, talking to one of my boyfriends.”

“Are you insinuating I’m Mr. Big? I’m Aidan at the very least. The good guy.”

“Of course you’re Aidan. But instead, we get married.”

“Yeah, y’wanna marry me?” Harry can’t contain his grin as he looks around to see if anyone can hear him. “I won’t say yes until you come back here and get down on one knee, Briar.”

“In your dreams, Styles. Why’d ya call anyway? I’m just sitting here eating my sandwich.”

“Just missed you. Tiger got a birdie on this hole, so it made me think of you.”

“Aw, you’re cute. You’re the first place boyfriend today. You were in third yesterday, for reference.”

“Glad to hear that. Finish up your lunch and come find me. I’m gonna go to the 17th hole to try and catch Justin Rose. He’s an old friend from home.”

“Okay, I’ll come find you. Love.”

“Love.”

Briar hangs up the phone, the butterflies in her stomach buzzing. Since returning home from California, she’s never felt so secure in their relationship. He’s balancing fatherhood, work and their everyday life with ease.

Readjusting her skirt, she walks back over to the bench, mouthing a thank you to the worker who let her know Harry was calling. She sips on her lemonade, the ice rattling as she finishes the cup. Tossing the remnants of her meal in the trash, she spots the beverage cart girl. Briar smiles as she approaches her, requesting another French 75 and a Casamigos on the rocks for her lover.

The 17th hole is a hell of a lot closer to the clubhouse, but swarmed with people. It’s going to be a needle in a haystack to find him. Briar scrunches her brows, scanning all the kinda old white men with brown hair. Where is her old man?

Panic sets in for a moment, until she feels two hands on her waist, lifting her off the ground slightly and kissing her neck where it meets her shoulder.. She squeals, reaching for her skirt to make sure nothing is showing. He didn’t pack her any underwear, after all!

“There y’are, Birdie. Wish I brought your leash to drag my cute puppy around. Make everyone jealous.”

“They’d think you need to be sent to jail, actually. Were you able to focus in my absence?”

“Yeah, but I missed your hundred questions and commentary. Is that for me?” he asks, pointing to his drink.

“Yes, but you made me spill it on my shirt,” she frowns, her gaze traveling down to the beads of liquid wicking off the fabric on her chest.

Without a second thought, Harry leans down, pressing his mouth to just over Briar’s nipple to suck up the dribbled liquid. Her eyes widened, in disbelief he just did that. She grips the back of his hair, pulling him out of her bosom.

“H! What the hell are you doing? We’re in public!”

“Mm, I know. I’m so hard right now. And thirsty. Saw an opportunity,” he smirks, his grip now around the back of her neck. “Wanna take you to the clubhouse and fuck you dumb.”

“Harryyy,” Briar whines again. Little does he know all he has to do is slip her skort to the side to reveal her soaking wet pussy. She does her best to drag her six foot tall boyfriend to the treeline, hiding themselves from prying eyes.

“Let’s go. We’ll find somewhere safe. Daddy needs you to do a favor for him,” he says low in her ear, his tongue touching her earlobe. “Did I tell you how happy I am that you came with me?”

“I’m happy you invited me,” she places a gentle kiss on his lips. “Love seeing you happy.”

———————————————————————————

The lovey dovey talk is how Briar got HOODWINKED into sucking her boyfriend’s cock in an administrator’s office at Augusta National Golf Course at the biggest event of the year. The door locked, thankfully, but the amount of foot traffic outside the door has Briar’s head spinning, even more than when his tip touches the back of her throat.

Harry lets out a guttural moan, “Oh my – fuck! Such a good fucking girl.”

Briar is pulling out her signature moves; cupping his balls with one hand, tweaking his shaft with the other when her mouth doesn’t cover it, and swirling her tongue along the ridge of his bright red, plump cockhead.

Briar bats her eyelashes and pulls off just as he gives his sign of completion; his left thigh muscle twitching. Harry’s eyes shoot open as he grips the desk to prevent himself from falling over. He was so, so close.

Before he can speak, Briar stands, pushing him to half lie on the desktop, opening his belt and pants wider. She climbs on the desk to straddle him, staring down at him deviously.

“Wanna ride you, Daddy,” she whispers in his ear. She sits back up, pulling her skort to the side to show him her pussy, spasming and begging to be touched. He reaches out to touch her, but she bats his hand away, instead placing her hand around his neck firmly. “Nope. No touching.”

Harry snorts, knowing anytime she’s tried to be in charge, she fails miserably. He knows she’ll be howling for his help in a few minutes. His smug look is wiped clean as she grips his cock again to line him up with her dripping hole. They moan in unison when he pushes through the tight opening as she squeezes him for good measure.

Briar bounces lightly, the skin of their thighs slapping together. She could listen to the sounds their bodies make for the rest of her life. He bottoms out a few times, puffs of air escaping his nose as he struggles to not cum immediately.

She starts to rub at her clit, her free hand coming up to tweak her nipple. His eyes are closed again, so she takes her middle and ring finger that are rubbing and sticks them past his lips. He moans, lapping up the wetness from her fingertips and choking on them a bit. She smiles before bringing the fingers back to her center and continuing to rub.

“Oh my god, baby. You taste so good,” Harry whines. “Want you to come. Then I’ll come in your little pussy. Don’t know how you’ll hold it all in there.”

Briar cries out, seconds away from tumbling over the edge. She leans forward, gripping the desk above his head. They’re making extreme eye contact now, the tension between them palpable.

“I’m cumming, Daddy. I’m cumming. Your cock feels so big in my pussy,” she cries out as Harry feels a tiniest bit of wetness expelled from where their bodies meet. She twitches, barely able to hold herself up. He sits up on the desk to support her and begins thrusting up into her with his hands wrapped delicately around her body, fingertips digging into the plushy skin of her ass and waist. He captures her lips in a deep kiss, her breath stuttering when he rams himself back into her.

The two remain intertwined, reality hitting them when Briar utters words he never thought he’d hear from her.

“Fuck me, Daddy. Fill me up. Make me yours. Wanna have your babies,” she fires off things he can’t even comprehend. “Want you to make me a mommy. Fuck – want it so bad. Fill me up, please!”

Harry’s breath is knocked out of him as he throttles upward, his tip colliding with her cervix every time. As he topples over the edge, he buries himself in her pussy – his eternal resting place, he’s decided he’ll request in his will – and releases his full load into her. He drops backwards, beginning her down to lie on top of him, his pants now hanging around his ankles.

“Oh my fucking GOD, baby. So fucking good for me,” he says into her ear, a shiver running down his spine.

“Love you, Daddy,” she says quietly, her ear pressed to his chest so she can hear his heartbeat racing.

“Love you so fucking much, Birdie,” Harry sighs, petting her back.

Harry smiles to himself. The diamond ring he has in his bag at the hotel is going to make an appearance even sooner than expected.

He’s sure of it.

[fruit-salad-ship]

She's returned from Hisui, some mons find her out in the field in the same spot where she was taken, unconcious and hurt badly, but alive, Val in her arms even in her state. Theyre rushed to the labs, and despite brutal injury, should be fine. Val's put in the ICU, the staff do not leave her alone, if anything were to happen to that pokemon Peach would lose it.

The professor herself is taken home, dosed to the hilt with pain meds, and put in bed after being cleaned up a little, checked out. Some broken ribs, fractures in the hands, a knuckle completly shattered, the healing mons come to her, repair what they can, but theres not a lot to be done about broken bones, those just take time.

Grey cannot explain the clothes, the scars that she never had, healed and seemingly old now, nor the changes in her physical apperance, hairs longer than it was that morning, she's somehow bigger? the notable white streak in the hair??? Only thing she's got on her is a half filled notebook tucked away in a pocket, small but hers, full of scribbles, sketches, mons long extinct in some cases, unusual variants, some kid he's never seen, Val, scenery. Plum in particular thumbs through it for a long while, unaware that this woman had any artistic skill, but it had to be her right? Thats her hand writing... some of it in Ancient Hisuian????? A pretty dead language these days. She said she was from Sinnoh but didnt expect this level of knowedge from her.

Takes 13 hours for her to wake up, the longest 13 hours theyve sat through, neither able to sleep, pacing around the house. When she's finally awake, totally buzzed from painkillers, nothing feels real, its out of body, touching stuff is abstract, the feeling is all wrong, heads fuzzy, she hit the deck pretty hard during the battle with Arcaeus, body went through a lot, she recalls falling for a long time, the impact should have broken her back, cracked her head, but here she is. She must be dead, this is a dream, being back home again like this is not new, she's had this dream so many times since leaving.

It is Val, waking in the ICU and demanding Booker comes to see her immediatly that is the turning point. Since peach left, she'd used taste to ground herself, when dreams felt too real, when reality felt off, taste stays the same. There when youre awake, gone if youre in a dream, or even an illusion. Val tells the Teddiursa to get some potent tasting berry and force feed Peach, only then will she realise this is the real timeline she was suppost to be in. Bob ambles in and sits with Val for the rest of her rest, old friends.

Once Peach realises she's home, truly, her thoughts immediatly go to her partner, and despite dizzy head and a body full of breaks and bruises, she gets on her feet, staggers her way to the labs, finds her partner, in just a bad a way as she is. The two sit together and say nothing, they dont need to. She waits until Val wakes up again, in and out of rest, petting bob as he dozes close. They've gone through hell and back, and now, with her partner, she makes the joke, the one she's sat on the whole time, recalling their original weekend holiday plans.

"Maybe we'll get to go camping now." knowing neither want to be anywhere but curled up at home right now. They fought god and came out alive, fuck camping.

Days pass recovering, neither well, but alive, repairing, it takes time. And in that time, Peach tells her loved ones everything, every lie, every hidden secret, all out on the table, Val even shares some memories with Grey and Plum, who have both a million questions, and new found deep understanding for her personlaity and behaviours now. She is sorry, painfully so, and sees she's made a lifetime of mistakes, too afraid to lose what she'd gained, the good in her life something she was not willing to risk, but in being secretive, she was putting them in danger. If they left now, she would understand, theyre free to do whatever they need to. Grey looks at Plum, a moment passing, before the pair get up. Peach thinks to leave, accepting it, but they wrap her up in their arms and squeeze as much as her damaged body can take.

They're sad for her, she has not had it easy by any means, but after being handed that shitshow of a childhood, Peach made something good of her life, and that takes real strength.

[agent-cupcake]

Flashbang

Chapter 9  Part 1- August Moon

Spotify Playlist / All Chapters / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 /Chapter 7/ Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 pt.1 / Chapter 9 pt.2 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 / Chapter 12

Pairing: One Piece Live Action Buggy x f! Reader

Synopsis: Waking up in yet another unfortunate circumstance, your mind strays to thinking of things you would rather forget.

Warnings: Explicit smut, child abuse

Word Count: 8.6k

Notes: This chapter started to get really long really quickly. Rather than postponing again and posting a 20k+ word chapter, there will be a part two. It’s a different format than other chapters, but the show did flashback arcs so why can't I?

“August Moon, laid just for you, steady, ready, smile like his, until it's out of sight. Don't undo the true chance that chooses you Face to face with a new day So simple it seemed, you dare to dream impossibly, risking its rarity of ‘I'll do it now' Black and blissful, tumbling, I wake, I sleep, it feeds me Fate may rule you and heart it fools you to lose your sanity”

xx

It wasn’t the simple process of recalling how you ended up bound on the floor in the dark, or even trying to figure out how to escape the confinement. It was a million memories dancing through your head all at once, an entire lifetime fogged up with anesthetic playing out in your aching head. 

All it took was a little doubt, right? A little confusion. And then you weren’t you, a person who had lived and failed and tried and been hurt over and over. A woman who had done unspeakable things and made unfathomable choices. You were her. A girl too small for her age, a girl whose bones poked out from her pallid skin. Her cheeks weren’t round and rosy, they were hollow and gaunt. She stared solemnly with eyes that seemed too large for her face, as glassy as those of a doll. In stark contrast to the finery of her nursery, she wore dirty pajamas and had unwashed hair. 

That was you. From a life you didn’t want to remember, filled with so many things you couldn’t forget. 

You remembered how cold it always was when Dad was gone. You remembered the feeling of hunger gnawing at your stomach. You were too young to know how to feed yourself or get warmer clothes, you only understood that your tummy hurt and you couldn’t stop shivering and that Mom didn’t want you to leave your room. You remembered sitting on your floor with your doll, quietly playing by yourself. Her name was Peach. She was your sister and your best friend. 

More anything else, more than the fear or the sadness or the longing or the pain, you remembered Mom’s voice. She was singing and you could remember that song so clearly that you dreamed of it years and years and years later. Her melancholic melody floated down the dark, cold hall. The house had been silent since Dad left on a trip. He was a doctor, which meant he had to take care of people. Mom hadn’t been feeling well. She called it morning sickness, even though she seemed to get even sicker at night. She threw up a lot, and she said her head and back hurt. She said she needed to rest, which was why you weren’t allowed to leave your room unless she said. 

But now she was singing.

Thinking about it for a moment, you put your doll Peach into her bed to be comfortable and safe while you were gone, pulling the little blankets up around her chin so she didn’t get cold. The house was always so cold. You left your room, your sock-covered feet making no noise on the wood floors. Mom’s voice was every bit as beautiful as she was, even when it was haunting and sad.

When you peeked around the doorway into the room she and Dad shared, you saw her sitting on the window bench, watching the lifeless gray sky. She was covered in something dark and wet, like she had spilled a drink. It puddled in her lap and coated her hands, dried on the edges but saturated so heavily in the middle that it still glistened like wet ink. You watched as tears slid down the side of her face, dripping from her chin. They kept falling, even as she sang.

“Momma?” you asked softly, suddenly uneasy. “Momma, what happened?”

She stopped singing, looking towards you with hazy eyes. Her face was drained of all color, her cheeks gaunt and hair a mess of flyaways. She held out her hand for you. Whatever was on her lap had dried on her skin, flaking off like rust from her fingers.

Blood. It was blood, you could smell it now. The vile metallic tang nearly choked you.

“Momma, you’re hurt,” you said, crossing the room and taking her hand without a second thought. Dried blood smeared over your hand. Her skin was ice cold.  

Her pale lips parted to say something, her chest swelling with a breath, but nothing came out. She just looked confused, her brow pinching and fresh tears forming in her eyes. 

“Mommy, you’re bleeding,” you insisted, feeling very cold inside. Dad wasn’t home, and you didn’t know who else could help. 

“Why was it you?” she asked, looking lost. “A girl. A daughter. Why are you the only one to make it? If you were a son—if I had a son…” She put her other hand on her stomach. “It was a son, I know it was.”

“Momma?” 

She blinked, her eyes focusing as if only just noticing you. Quick, like you had burned her, she dropped your hand. 

“Draw me a bath,” she said, a sharpness you recognized very well returning to her voice. “I am fine, this is… Fine. Don’t tell your father about this.”

“Yes, mommy.”

There were many things Mom didn’t want dad to know, things about her. Later in life, she told you to hide things about you from him. But that came later. 

From back then, you could remember very clearly that Mom and dad fought a lot. Sometimes it seemed like all they did was fight, and then Dad would leave on a ship, and then it was just you and Mom. When he got home, things would be fine at first, but that peace never lasted very long. 

You could hear them in the den. It was a fight that had been brewing for a while. Mom was shouting in a shrill tone, but Dad only ever talked quietly. His voice came out in a low rumble that demanded absolute attention, like rolling thunder. Just as fearsome too.  

You wanted to go upstairs, but that would mean going through the den and you didn’t dare interrupt them. Instead, you held Peach tight in your arms and covered your ears to block out their voices and waited for the storm to pass. 

She shouted. He spoke. There was thumping. Mom screamed twice. And then a heavy silence fell upon the house. The clock seemed to tick even louder in the absence of their voices.

Did that mean it was over with? You crawled out of your hiding place, softly walking down the hall until you got to the arch leading into the den. Light from the crackling fire within illuminated a little halo into the hall, but there was no warmth to the orange glow.  

Hardly daring to breathe, you peeked inside. Mom laid in a broken heap on the floor. She was bleeding. It gushed out of her nose, pooling on the hardwood. Her eye was already swelling and she cradled her stomach. Her shoulders shivered with little hitching sobs. 

You didn’t see Dad anywhere, so you tentatively entered, walking as softly as you could. 

“Mommy?” you asked, approaching her slowly. 

Dad said your name from the stairs, making you jump. Mom whimpered.

“Leave your mother alone,” he told you as he came down. “It’s time for bed.” 

“But mommy—”

“Now,” he said, his eyes narrowing. 

You knew better than to argue with him when he used that tone of voice. You looked back at Mom, feeling sick. She was in pain, you knew she was. But Dad would help her, wouldn’t he? He was a doctor.

“Goodnight mommy,” you said, petting her head. “I love you.” 

Her only response was a weak sob. 

“Didn’t you hear that, birdie?” Dad said. “Your daughter said goodnight.” 

Mom let out a shaky breath, looking up at you. “Goodnight, baby.” 

“Okay, come on, sweet girl,” Dad said. “It’s late.” 

Nervously, you crossed the room to the stairs where Dad stood. He didn’t look upset anymore, you could almost believe that nothing bad had happened. When you started to pass him, he held out an arm to stop you. 

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” he asked. 

You looked up at him, confused and anxious. 

“I think I deserve a goodnight kiss from my sweet little girl,” he clarified warmly, leaning down to scoop you up into his arms. You stiffened up, squeezing Peach to your chest. 

“Goodnight, daddy,” you said, kissing his cheek. He smiled, brushing your hair behind your ear.

“Don’t you worry. Things are going to be better from now on,” he told you. “Right, birdie?” 

“Yes,” Mom answered, her voice pained. 

Dad let out a heavy breath, nodding. “I hate that it has to be like this, but it’s for the best. I’ve been too easy on you girls for too long, and it’s my responsibility to take care of it.” He closed his eyes for a second, pressing his face against your neck. You held your breath. 

“My sweet little girl,” he said, pulling back. “I love you. You know that, don’t you? I love you both.”

“I love you too, daddy.” 

He kissed your forehead before setting you down, ruffling your hair. 

“Alright, mommy and I have to talk. You better be in bed by the time we’re done, okay? I’ll check.”

“Yes, daddy,” you said. 

As soon as his attention was off of you, you went up the stairs. You remembered being too small to take them properly, it was more of a climb than anything. A tiring climb. And then it was down the cold hall into your room, and straight onto your bed. You pulled the blanket up to cover both you and Peach and held the pillow around your ears to shield them.

You remembered many nights just like that, huddled with your doll in the stifled dark, waiting to fall asleep because it was the only escape you had. 

28 Days Earlier

It was your own upset whine that woke you up to something approximating consciousness, and then you became aware of several things in quick succession. You were in Buggy’s bed, cradled in his arms with your back against his chest, you were both naked, he was touching you, and what was most probably his erection was pressing against your thighs. You squirmed, confused, catching a glimpse of his nose and smile when you twisted your head around, before pressing your face back into the pillow with a soft groan.

Your head hurt. Actually, several things hurt. It took you a few seconds to grasp what was real. Last night, going to the Maison Rouge, getting drunk, the bathroom, having dinner, getting carried back onto the ship, and then everything else.

At least that explained your headache.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Buggy said cheerfully. Fitting that the one morning you wanted to sleep he would be awake and in good spirits.

Your only response was a harsh gasp when he rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger just a little too hard. 

“You are awake right?” he asked. 

“Mmmhmm,” you agreed.

“Good. I didn’t want to stick it in while you were still snoozin’.”

You made a confused sound. Most of your functional brain was focused on the way he was touching you, one hand holding you against him while the other shamelessly groped your chest. 

“Cap’mm Buggy, what’re you-” 

“Don’t get all weird about it,” he said, releasing you to sit up. Blinking groggily, you rolled onto your back to watch him grab a bottle he’d wedged between the other pillows. His makeup was all faded and smeared because you hadn’t taken it off last night, the sparkles dusting down his cheeks. “I’m gonna be gentle.”  

“Oil?” you asked, confused as he uncapped it with his teeth and poured some onto his palm.

“Yeah, you were fuckin’ soaking last night, you’re probably all tapped out,” he said with a smile, clarifying some things by tossing off the blanket to stroke his cock, coating it in oil. This was a dream, it had to be. Buggy looked at you, his smile exchanged for a look of impatience. “You’re welcome.”

“Thank you,” you said automatically, although you still felt like this had to be a dream. 

Buggy rolled his eyes, stroking his cock one more time for good measure. “Quit gawkin’ and lay down.”

You laid back down, too sleepy to argue. Not that you would. Surprising you somewhat, Buggy laid down too, rolling you onto your side so you were spooning again.

You tried to twist around, confused about what he wanted. You thought you understood, but this was different. New.

“Lift your leg up,” Buggy told you. After a second of trying to understand what he meant, you did and he pulled you down enough for him to get his cock between your legs. 

Oh. 

Your breathing immediately picked up. Excitement? Nerves? You couldn’t tell the difference clearly enough to know. You didn’t fight him, your fingers digging into the sheets as he ran the slick head through your folds back and forth until it caught. The feeling made you shudder, your stomach flipping. 

“See?” Buggy teased. “You loooove this.”

“Don’t we,” you began to say, speaking more because you felt like you needed to say something than because you meant it, “don’t we need to get up and… um…” 

“And what?”

You tried to string together a coherent response, but it got lost as Buggy began to push into you, your argument disintegrating around his cock. The oil made it so smooth, he barely had to work it in, just pushing and pushing until you were full. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he said, his voice smug even though it was strained and hoarse. 

If you were going to object in the first place, all of your thoughts disappeared when he moaned right into your ear. The sound was almost as potent as the feeling of him inside of you, you couldn’t help but tighten up around him, letting out a little whimper. Buggy laughed, rolling his hips lazily. 

“We’re on vacation, babydoll. Just relax.” 

When you and Buggy finally got out of bed, it was later than was at all reasonable and you were already worn out. Conversely, Buggy seemed to be full of energy. You got a look at yourself in the mirror, shocked and a little disgusted by the sight. There was only so much that could be done to salvage your appearance. Your hair seemed unable to take any other shape than an utterly disastrous nest, and the smears of makeup didn’t respond to water no matter how hard you scrubbed. Your bandana was on the other ship too. Since you were out a pair of very nice panties and the only clothes you had was last night’s red dress, you borrowed a loose linen shirt of his.

It did absolutely nothing to cover the worst of the damage—the bright red marks covering your neck from ear to collarbones. Some were very clearly bite marks with indents of teeth, others were less distinct splotches of red, and a few were just bruises.  

“Sheesh, you look wrecked,” Buggy said, which was a little unfair. His makeup was smeared and he needed a shave and to tame the wild blue mess of his hair, but he didn’t look sickly the way you did. There was a brightness to his eyes, an energy you didn’t think you ever had. 

“‘s not that bad,” you said, covering your neck with your hair. 

“Come here, let me get a better look,” he said, dropping into his chair. You obeyed with halting steps, coming to a stop where you were more or less at eye level. Buggy didn’t look into your eye though, prying your hands from your neck and pushing your hair back to appreciate the work he’d done. “Some of my finest work, if I do say so myself.” 

You couldn’t look at his face, staring off to the side. You didn’t want to think about what you did last night, the things you said and did and agreed to. You are mine. 

How embarrassing. 

Your reaction made Buggy frown. “What’s that look for?” he asked. “You said I could do anything I wanted.”

“‘s embarrassing,” you muttered. “But that… It’s fine, really. Do you want me to-” You gestured to your chin and neck. 

Buggy ran a hand over his face, sighing. “Fine,” he said. “Makeup first, though. Somebody forgot to take care of that last night.” 

You frowned because that wasn’t your fault which made him laugh, his mood smoothed over just like that. 

Taking off his makeup was a very familiar process by now, as was preparing everything to shave his facial hair. You wished that the fulfillment of whatever twisted desires you had would have cured you of your preoccupation with Buggy’s face and neck, yet you found yourself as interested as ever. At the very least, you got through it without incident before wiping the remaining shaving cream off and applying the aftershave, appreciating his smooth skin. Maybe that was selfish.

“I just realized,” you said as you were cleaning the blade before returning the razor to its case. “I can’t cut you, can I? Because of your… your thing.” 

“My thing?” he repeated, holding up a mirror to see if you had done a good enough job. 

“Your Devil Fruit… thing,” you clarified.  

“You just realized that?” Buggy asked. You couldn’t tell if his tone was amused or derisive. Both, probably.   

“I thought the reason you didn’t let me at first is because you thought I would cut you,” you explained, turning around to put everything away. “Because you didn’t trust me.” 

“Yeah, I didn’t trust that you wouldn’t do a shitty job.” 

“I don’t think people would notice either way,” you said. “They’ll be too distracted by-” 

“By what?” Buggy asked sharply. 

“Your cheekbones and jaw,” you said, hoping it sounded like a normal complement and not creepy. “You know? They’re pretty enough that I don’t think a bit of hair or anything would matter.”

“You were going to say they’d be too distracted by my nose, weren’t you,” he accused. You looked over your shoulder at him, surprised to see his simmering rage. 

“I wasn’t,” you told him, frowning. “You don’t even have hair there, it wouldn’t make sense.”

“What you said doesn’t make any sense either.” 

“I, um,” you stammered, confused. “That’s not what I mean, sir. I swear.” 

“Whatever,” Buggy said, standing up and going into the bathroom. You couldn’t tell how seriously he was upset by the perceived slight. Sometimes Buggy got really angry, but sometimes he seemed to forget it as soon as it happened. 

While he was gone, you finished cleaning up the shaving supplies before stripping the bedding. By the time he emerged, you still hadn’t decided if you were meant to apologize or not.

“Do you want me to go get breakfast?” you asked, fidgeting awkwardly. 

“Ew, no,” Buggy said, wincing as he tied a kerchief around his hair. “Never eat ship food if you can avoid it.” 

“Then… Can I stay here with you?” you asked.

He grabbed his makeup case and sat back in his chair. “I doubt anyone else wants you.” 

You sat on the end of his bed. The morning activities really had worn you out in a way they didn’t seem to for him, and you felt a little gross to be sitting there covered in a film of sexual grime, but it was better than being alone. Much, much better. 

“How long will we stay in Lafitte, Captain Buggy?” you asked, looking out the window. It was another lovely day. 

“Until I say we’re leaving,” he answered, focused on his makeup. He was very good at it, painting on the shapes quickly and efficiently. You felt warm while watching him, like you could relax because you weren’t alone, because he wanted you by him. 

“It’s creepy when you stare at me like that,” Buggy said, bringing your musings to an abrupt halt.  

“I’m sorry, sir,” you said.

He smirked, adding the finishing touches to the blue around his eyes before powdering it like Pippa had with your makeup.  

“Okay, new rules!” Buggy declared when he was done, standing up. “You,” he pointed at you, “do not leave the ship without me. You don't talk to anybody that’s not me. Really, just, only do what I tell you to do. Daddy dearest doesn’t have any proof that we’ve got you yet and I’d like to keep it that way. You’re gonna lay low, keep your head down, and not do anything stupid. Got it?” 

“Yes, sir,” you said, nodding, your stomach tied in knots at the reminder. 

You helped Buggy get dressed, but your mind was preoccupied with thoughts of your dad. He wouldn’t be thrown off that easily, not from getting you back and not from pirates. You weren’t sure why you managed to convince yourself he would be. 

“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?” Buggy asked with something like bitterness in his voice. “The Surgeon.” 

“I guess.”

“Well don’t. I won’t let that crusty bastard take you back,” Buggy told you, rolling his eyes. “That’d be such a waste, I’ve got your pussy all broken in and everything.” 

Your face scrunched in disgust while Buggy laughed, ruffling your messy hair to make it messier. You wanted to give him a hug before he left, but you couldn’t think of a way to make that seem appropriate. 

“I’ll bring you back something nice to eat, okay, babydoll?” 

“Will you be gone very long?” you asked, hoping you didn’t sound desperate and knowing you did. 

“I’ll be back before you know it. If you’re good and you get all your chores done, I’ll get blondie to dress you up so we can go out.”

Once Buggy left, you went to the berth to find a high necked sweater to cover the marks on your neck and get cleaned up. Although it had only been two days and you hadn’t even been on this ship very long in the first place, you had the sensation of being home. Or, being someplace more homey. Whatever your feelings, it was better.

Although it was late for it, people were still hanging around getting a cold breakfast. You wouldn’t have thought so many people would stick around but, apparently, it was payday. Everybody got a split of what had been plundered from the Dolce and those involved got more for the other ship. 

Mohji handed out the money while Richie watched everybody’s bowls very sharply. You didn’t expect anything, Captain Buggy hadn’t really mentioned payment, but you still got a cut. It was strange to get money from a man who had only recently seen you locked up in the brig and called you hostage, but in the absence of the Chief of Staff, it was up to Mohji.

“You look shocked,” Marty said as everybody dispersed. “He didn’t short you, did he?”  

“No, nothing like that. It’s just… I’ve never had this much money,” you admitted. “What am I supposed to do with it?”

“You’re a pirate,” he said. “You go out and blow it all on booze and hookers.”

“Captain Buggy said I’m not allowed to leave the ship. Also I…” You frowned. “I don’t think I’d do that anyway. Is that what you do?”  

“Before you think too harshly of me, girly,” Marty said. “Don’cha think it’s better to pay a girl who’s clean than to catch something?”

You nodded like you understood. “That’s true. And I would never, ever judge you,” you told him. 

Marty smiled, shaking his head in amusement. 

“By the way, do you, um, do you know where Mr. Cabaji is?” 

“Captain Buggy sent him off on some mission,” Marty said.

“Oh, that’s good then,” you said, more relieved than you should have been. Cabaji was smart and strong and capable, and if something happened to him somebody would have mentioned it.

It looked like Marty was going to ask you something, but he was cut off by a familiar voice. “Did Mr. Mohji pay you?” Pippa asked, making you jump. She had approached from your left blindspot, and you hadn’t been paying enough attention to check. 

“He did. I was just advising her on how best to spend it,” Marty told Pippa. 

“We’re going shopping, obviously,” she said. 

You frowned. “Captain Buggy said I’m not allowed to leave the ship without him.”

“You can’t keep wearing my hand-me-downs. He must know that. If he doesn’t trust me, then Marty will come along to keep us safe.” 

“He will?” Marty asked. 

“If it’s for a good cause,” Pippa said, smiling and batting her eyelashes at him. He clearly wasn’t charmed by her, rolling his eyes. 

“Maybe another day,” you told her. “I’ll ask him later.” 

She sighed. “Fine. There are things I need to get while we’re here anyway.” 

“Do you wanna go get something to eat first?” Marty asked. “I can’t stomach any more salted meat.”

“It’s too early to start drinking,” Pippa said. 

“Start?” Marty asked, pulling a flask out of his pocket. She rolled her eyes. 

“I’ll see you two later then?” you said. 

“Shame you can’t come along. Sorry, girly.” 

“It’s okay,” you said, smiling reassuringly. “I’m fine here.” 

Neither looked like they entirely believed you, but nobody would argue with rules Captain Buggy set out. That was, if nothing else, the strongest unifier among the crew. 

They left, and you focused your attention on getting your chores done. First, however, you stopped by the clinic, but Crina wasn’t there. 

Without anything else to keep you occupied, you tidied up Captain Buggy’s cabin. In your absence, he had made a mess of it. Even though you were not in an entirely different position than you had been yesterday, you felt peaceful while cleaning. Now that you had a taste of his absence, you knew how dire it was that you did whatever you could to stay with him.  

You weren’t sure how you were going to do that, but you were going to figure it out, and you were going to be very, very good at it.  

The way you were tied up was simple. Hands secured behind your back with plain rope, and your ankles bound in the same way. Your head ached painfully, swimming in the thick fog. A drug? It felt like it. That was the only thing that could separate you from reality so thoroughly. 

You remembered the first time you were ever knocked out with a general anesthetic. It was because you broke your arm, but it didn’t heal right because you weren’t strong enough. Your parents told everyone you broke it because you tripped, but you remembered what happened. You wished you didn’t. You wished you remembered running and falling, that would be so much better. 

But that wasn’t what happened.  

Miss Frizzy was the children’s teacher. Barley was too small to need more than a few teachers, and everybody had to learn together with different books. Dad said it was different in places with more people. You wondered if that would be nice, but you liked Miss Frizzy. She had long, dark hair that was very straight and sleek. She was young like Mom, and very pretty like Mom. You liked that she was nice, and that she smelled like vanilla, and that she gave you lunch when Mom forgot to pack yours. Sometimes, in the most secret place of your brain that you would never tell to anybody ever, you wished that Miss Frizzy was your mom. 

School was over, but you had to stay because Miss Frizzy asked your mom to come into the classroom. Since it was an adult conversation, they set you outside the room in the hallway to wait. They thought you didn’t hear them, but you did. Miss Frizzy gave you a book of hidden object pictures, but you had no desire to find quilted stars or a rocking horse. You sat Peach in your lap so she could look at the pictures while you listened to the adult conversation. 

“I am… concerned about your daughter,” Miss Frizzy said. 

“What did she do?” Mom asked sharply in her ‘be careful’ voice, the scary one that let you know she was getting upset, the one that made your spine tingle. 

“She didn’t do anything. I just wanted to discuss her social development. I’ve noticed a few things that are a little worrisome.” 

“Like what?”

“She’s around the age that we’d expect to see more verbal communication. The difficulty with kids her age is usually trying to get them to stop telling you what they’re thinking or feeling, but she’s the opposite.”

“I’m sorry, are you telling me there’s something wrong with my daughter because she’s better behaved than other children?”

“No, I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with her. I wanted to ask for your opinion on what I might do to make her more comfortable—what is her behavior like at home?”

“That’s not your business.”

“It’s just that, with kids like her, it’s important to encourage confidence and self expression.”

“She’s not well, you know that, don’t you?” Mom said. “That’s why she’s shy. There’s nothing wrong with that.” 

“No, there’s not. But I would like to help her socialize, especially with the kids in her class. This is a very important time for social development.”

“Well what am I supposed to do?”

There was a beat of silence before Miss Frizzy spoke. “Social behaviors are learned,” she finally said, “I worry she’s not in an environment that makes her feel comfortable or safe to express herself.”

“Safe?” Mom demanded, her voice raising. “What is that supposed mean? You think she’s afraid to express herself because of me? It is not your business to tell me how to raise my daughter. And you know what? You ought to be careful if you’re going to be making these sorts of insinuations. You know who my husband is.” 

“I’m not insinuating anything,” Miss Frizzy said.

“I am her mother. I know what’s best for her.”

It was quiet for a moment. A very long moment. “I’m worried that’s not entirely the case,” Miss Frizzy said softly.

“You should be ashamed of yourself, Ilse Frisby,” Mom said, her voice mean and sharp like a knife. 

Miss Frizzy tried to say more, but Mom emerged from the office.

“We’re leaving,” she told you with the type of look that you knew better than to argue against. You stood up immediately with Peach tucked beneath your arm, accidentally dropping the book. Rather than waiting for you to pick it up, she grabbed your bicep. Too tight. You winced, scrambling along to keep up with her as she dragged you out of the school building. 

When you were out of sight, Mom rounded on you, her expression dark. “What did you say to her?”

“Nothing, momma,” you said, out of breath from having to walk so fast, your arm aching from the way she’d been dragging you. 

“You said something to her, I know you did. You told her I’m a bad mother, didn’t you?” 

“No, momma, no, no,” you denied, shaking your head and fighting your tears. You didn’t want to cry, but you couldn’t help the reaction in the face of her rage. You didn’t exactly understand the adult conversation, but you understood it had upset Mom. Really, really upset her. You squeezed Peach against your chest for comfort. 

“You did, you had to have said something. You’re such an ungrateful brat. Do you have any idea how much I sacrifice for you? For you. And then you go to that-that woman and you tell her that I’m a bad mother? You owe me everything, and instead you just…” 

Tears finally welled up in your eyes, you couldn’t fight them anymore. 

“Oh, you’re gonna cry now?” Mom demanded. “Fine, go tell that woman how bad of a mother I am, go cry to her and tell her lies about our family.” 

“No,” you said, your voice getting all stopped up in your swollen throat. “No, I’m sorry, momma, I’m sorry.” 

“No, go. Go tell her all about what a terrible mother I am!” She used her grip on your arm to push you back towards the school building. Peach dropped first, falling into the dirt, and you felt something give out and there was a terrible crunching cracking noise and then you fell onto the ground too, scraping your knees across the dirt and rocks. Blood roared in your ears and you stopped crying because the pain punched everything out of you. It screamed up from your arm, but you couldn’t make a sound.

Tears and snot dripped from your face and darkened little spots in the dirt and you couldn’t breathe and mom was talking more but you couldn’t hear her. She dropped onto the ground beside you and looked at your arm. It looked wrong. It hurt so much you felt sick. 

“Oh, my baby, no, no no no,” she cooed, gently pulling you against her, her voice so soft. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. You know that, don’t you? I didn’t mean it. I’m so sorry, baby. I love you, I love you so—” 

Your arm had to be set and put in a plaster. The surgery and anesthetic came later.

“Your mother loves you,” Dad told you that night. “She loves you very much. You know she didn’t mean to hurt you.” 

You nodded, holding Peach even tighter with your good arm. When you dropped her earlier, she broke. There was a faint fissure going down her face, right over her pretty glass eye. That hurt almost as bad as your arm.

“She worries about you,” Dad said. “We both do. What you did is not alright. You do not tell people about what happens at home. That is not appropriate. Do you understand?” 

You didn’t think you had, but why else would Miss Frizzy say those things? Why else would Mom get so upset? You made a mistake, and there was only one answer. “Yes, daddy,” you said softly. 

Those words made you feel hollow inside. The last time you said them was when you were trying to convince him to stay because even if you were miserable, you weren’t sure if you wanted to leave him. 

Yes, daddy. 

In a twisted way, that memory wrapped right back around to your first time with Buggy. Most of your life you thought you would probably die a virgin. Sex was dirty, and gross, and made you feel bad about yourself. How old were you when you came to that conclusion? Nine? Ten? You remembered the girl who told you. Her name was Harper.

Harper’s family lived on a small dairy farm on the edge of town. In a town full of fishermen, you thought cows were cooler, but Harper said it wasn’t much different at all. Just like them, she had to wake up long before dawn and work for hours before coming to school. The only difference was that she smelled like the barn while the boys who worked on the boats smelled like fish. 

She was the only one in your school around the same age as you. Around the same age. Harper was six months older. Months that grew longer when you factored in the height difference, which seemed to get more substantial every week. She used those months and inches as the primary reason for why you had to listen to her and do what she told you to do. Mainly that included letting her take your toys, colored pencils, and hair ribbons and only playing games that she liked. It also meant, probably on account of those six months of extra experience, that Harper knew a lot of grown-up things that you didn’t. 

An overcast sky loomed above, a sharp wind churning up the smell of brine and salty sea air below. You and Harper lived in the same direction from the school, so you would walk together to the big fork in the road. Then you went up the hill and she went around. Both of you were sniffling and bundled up tightly. Made worse by the wind, the cold got under your coat and nestled there, an inescapable chill. 

“We should make a get well soon card for Dawn,” you said. You had heard that afternoon that she would be out of school for a few months, she’d come down with something bad. You knew all about that. 

Harper snorted out a laugh. “Dawn isn’t sick.” 

You looked at her, frowning. “What do you mean?”

Harper looked at you with an expression you knew well. A mixture of pity and superiority, like you were stupid, or at the very least woefully naive. “She’s pregnant.” 

Your eyes widened in surprise. “That’s not true.” 

“It is,” Harper insisted testily. “My sister told me. She said that Dawn’s a slut. She’ll do it with any handsome sailor so now she’s pregnant.” 

“Oh,” you said. 

Harper smiled. “You know what that means, don’t you?” 

You mulled that over, trying to divine her meaning from words alone. Slut was bad, you knew that much at least. But the rest, you weren’t so sure. Harper obviously wanted you to ask her. She liked doing that. You always felt so stupid not knowing all of the grown-up things that she did. 

“I guess not,” you finally allowed.

“She had sex. That’s how babies are made,” Harper said imperiously, like she was teaching you a very important lesson. “That’s where they both get naked and a man puts his penis in the lady’s down-there parts. Boys have different bits, they stick out. It’s like this-” She held up her hand in the shape of a circle, slowly putting her finger through it to demonstrate. “And then the girl gets pregnant.”

Your face screwed up with disgust. “No way.” 

“Yes way. That’s how you were made,” Harper said crossly. “Your mom and dad had sex and then you were born. And that’s what Dawn did.” 

“How do you know that?” you asked her, still reluctant to believe something so gross and taboo. 

“My mom told me in case a creepy pervert tries to touch my privates or chest. I’m starting to get breasts, you know. I’ll need to wear a bra soon, and that’s when boys want to have sex.”

Harper said that a lot, talking about how she would need a bra soon, but you didn’t think her chest looked any different. You didn’t tell her that though, because then she said you were jealous because she was taller and looked older than you did. You weren’t jealous. If having a bra made boys pay attention to you, you’d rather not. And the whole idea of sex just seemed gross. Probably Harper was lying, she did that sometimes. And if she wasn’t, that was worse. 

But you didn’t say any of that, you just agreed, and then you told her goodbye at the big fork and made your way up the hill thinking about lots of icky, uncomfortable things you would really rather not. 

24 Days Earlier

For you, clothes had always been somewhat of an afterthought. It wasn’t a matter of money. Dad didn’t like to see you wearing anything especially ostentatious or too flattering, he said that it would attract attention and make you look cheap. That, combined with your propensity to get cold, meant that you wore a lot of the shapeless sweaters Pippa hated so much.

Not anymore. 

After a shockingly quick run through of the first shop, Pippa sent you into the changing room with several outfits at the ready. You were still reeling from the newness of it all. Without her, you never would have been able to pick out anything, there were far too many options. 

Taking in a deep breath, you started with a white buttoned shirt. It had a sweetheart neckline and long, frilly sleeves. It was paired with a pair of pinstriped bloomer shorts, the kind that were meant to be seen rather than hidden beneath a skirt. Unlike everything you had worn previously—except for the red dress—both items were fit for your size. It was a lovely outfit. And then you looked in the mirror, remembering your problem.

“Pippa, I can’t wear this shirt right now,” you said doubtfully.

“What are you talking about?” Pippa asked, opening the curtain. You immediately covered your neck. She looked you up and down, her eyes relentlessly critical. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing,” you said. “Just…” When you didn’t elaborate, trying to think of a way to explain the problem, she grabbed your wrist to pull your hand from your neck, revealing the marks littering your skin. The ones from the other night had only just begun to fade, and Buggy had decided to add more that morning “So you don’t forget.”

Whatever that was supposed to mean.

“Was he trying to eat you?” Pippa asked, her tone so matter-of-fact you almost weren’t sure if she was joking or not.

“I…” You huffed, shaking your head. “Did you get anything with a high neckline?” 

“I doubt Captain Buggy wants you to cover them up.”

“How do you know that?” you asked doubtfully. 

“That’s how men are.” She shook her head, a little amused. “Marking their territory. He doesn’t want anybody else trying to play with his toy.” 

You frowned. “Don’t say it like that.”

“You don’t need to be embarrassed, I’m not judging you for getting in with the captain. If I thought I could get away with it, maybe I’d try the same thing.” 

“With Captain Buggy?” you asked sharply, your voice raised with the higher bend of defensive jealousy. 

“Relax,” Pippa said, looking a little surprised by your reaction. “He’s clearly got a type, and he’s certainly not mine.” 

“Sorry, that’s not what I…” You fumbled on the apology, unsure of what you were apologizing for exactly. “I’m sorry.” 

“You’re getting that outfit, try on the black skirt with suspenders next,” Pippa told you, unruffled, “it should go with that shirt.” 

She left the changing booth, closing the curtain. You couldn’t stifle your embarrassment about your reaction, and then thinking about the other night, caught on the worry that you may have embarrassed yourself even worse while drunk. What worried you, more than anything, was her motivation for helping you so much. Did it really make sense that she would like you when you behaved like that? 

You thought about that as you rifled through the hangers, finding the aforementioned skirt fairly quickly. It was one of the few black pieces among lots of white and red. 

“Pippa,” you asked while you got out of the pinstripe shorts, relying on the safety of hiding behind the curtain to muster the courage to ask. “Are we friends?” 

“What?” she called.  

“Are we friends?” you asked again, more insistent. The skirt was shorter than you expected, you would have to wear something underneath it otherwise your panties definitely would show. “You’re not just doing this because Captain Buggy and I are… you know.” 

“Oh, that,” Pippa said. “I won’t lie, that’s why I helped you at first, but now… I like you. It’s hard to find somebody who’s willing to let me dress them up, especially someone like you. I could never get away with wearing clothes like this.”

You emerged from behind the curtain, awkwardly tugging on the hem of the skirt. Luckily, there weren’t many people in the store to see your bite-covered neck. 

“See? You look adorable. I can’t pull off the cutesy style,” Pippa said with no small amount of wistfulness. “You can wear those lacy bloomers I gave you under that. You’ll need stockings too.” 

“You really don’t think it’s too short?” you asked. 

She gave you a flat look. “Do you know the luxury of being short?” 

“I don’t think there are any.” 

“If you wear that skirt, nobody’s gonna be even a little scandalized. If I wore something that short, it would be a problem. Enjoy it.”

You weren’t sure that was true, but it was a cute outfit.

The other things you tried on weren’t as successful, but Pippa said that was fine. As soon as you paid, she was dragging you into another shop. Things proceeded in pretty much the same way. While you were busy eying up a dress to decide if you liked it or not, Pippa was compiling an armful of clothes for you to try before shuffling you into the changing room. 

“There’s a few plain cotton dresses, you can pair them with the corset tops or sweaters. Try those first, it’ll be good to have a few on hand,”  

You picked through the hangers, looking for white cotton but finding a mass of white tulle and shiny sateen. You pulled it out, realizing that it was a dress. The skirts and sleeves were absurdly voluminous.   

“What’s this white dress?” you asked.

“That’s yours. For the show,” Pippa said. “Isn’t it beautiful?” 

“It is,” you agreed, although your hesitance was plain. “You said it’s for me?” 

“Yep.” 

“You don’t think… I mean, if I wear this, I’ll look like a kid, don’t you think?” 

“I think,” she said, “you’ll look like a doll. You don’t have to try it on right now, I’ll need to alter it anyway. Just try those cotton dresses.”  

“Oh yeah, right,” you said, trying very hard to not think about why she bought you a dress for the show. 

After that, you visited a few other boutiques, ending the spree with a trip to a store that only sold underwear. As embarrassing as you found that one, it was necessary. Pippa said you had to ‘maximize your assets.’ What that really meant was wearing bras that had padding in them. Although they weren’t comfortable, you were a little excited about it. Now more than ever you were aware of how deficient you were. 

It was late afternoon as the two of you made your way back to the ship. Shopping was oddly exhausting, as was carrying all the bags. 

The question occurred to you while you were shopping for underwear, and now it burned on your tongue. You knew you needed to do it. You had to ask, the only other person you could think to ask was Crina but you got the feeling she wouldn’t react as well. And Pippa said she was your friend.

“Pippa… Can I ask you something and you never tell anybody ever?” 

“Is it about sex?” she asked absently. 

You flushed hot, all the way to your ears. “Yes.” 

“Go ahead.” 

“I know what a, um, a blowjob is, but I don’t know… how.”

“What are you asking me?” she asked, her eyes flicking towards you for a moment. 

“I was wondering if you did, and if you could… I don’t know, do you have any advice or anything?” Hearing your own words made them a thousand times worse. You shook your head fast enough to make the twintails swish, grimacing. “Nevermind, I shouldn’t have asked.” 

“No, it’s okay. I just had to make sure,” she told you. “You know how to give a handjob, right?” 

You blinked, freezing up in the face of that question as you realized that maybe you misunderstood what was meant by that last time you used the term. “Um...”

“Stroking his cock with your hand,” she said.

“Oh! Oh, I guess.” You had definitely misunderstood what that term meant last time you used it. 

“That, but you add your mouth. Lick, suck, bob your head on the end while you jerk him off. If you’re having trouble with getting the rhythm, ask him to help you out.”

You nodded, trying to commit that all to memory while avoiding combusting on the spot out of embarrassment. “Okay, and, um… I can’t fit it all the way in my mouth. When he tried to, I choked.” 

“You’d want to practice suppressing your gag reflex,” she explained casually, unconcerned with the subject or the idea that people walking past could hear her. “Some people can do it, some can’t.”

“What if I can’t?”

“You’re overthinking this,” Pippa said. “If you seem like you’re having the time of your life worshiping his cock, it doesn’t matter how deep you can take it.”

“That sounds… really embarrassing,” you admitted, catching sight of Buggy’s ship. That was good, your arms were burning from carrying so many bags.  

“It doesn’t have to be,” Pippa said. “Sex should be fun.” 

“It is!” you said quickly, defensive. “I just… I’m so… I feel disgusting, you know? And I don’t know what to say or do during and then after it makes me want to, I don’t know…” You shook your head, trying to think of a good way to phrase it. “I wanna peel off my skin or something. Do you ever feel that way?” 

“No,” Pippa said, looking at you with a frown.

“Oh, um, I mean…” You forced a laugh. “I think I’m just being silly, I’m sorry.” 

Pippa nodded. Neither of you brought it up again.  

“I’ve got a special move for taking people down,” Buggy said over dinner that night. He brought it back to the ship for you rather than letting you go into town again. You liked that better anyway, when it was just you and Buggy. “I won’t spoil anything, but by the time I’m done, the sorry sucker’s nothin’ but chunks on the road. I’ll show you one day, it’ll blow your mind.” 

You thought about that for a moment, looking at your plate. “Does it, um, does it bother you at all?” you asked. “Killing people.” 

“Why would it?” he asked out of the side of his mouth, talking through a big bite of fish. 

“I… I don’t know. You’re taking away another person’s life. Everything they were, everything they could be, all of that is gone because—because of you.” 

Buggy rolled his eyes. “Babydoll, it’s not that big a deal. If they die, it was their fault for being in my way.”

You nodded. “My dad used to say that he never killed anybody. He only killed pirates.” 

“Funny, I’ve only killed idiots.”

As desperately as you wanted to be able to think like that, you weren’t sure you could ever excuse yourself in that way. You wished you could be strong like Buggy, that you could adopt such an easy point of view. If you could, you would be better.   

“Okay,” Buggy said, dropping his fork onto his empty plate and leaning back to pick his teeth with his knife. “I’m ready for the show.” 

“Show?” you asked.

“You went shopping today, didn’t you? As my little protégé, the way you look represents me. I gotta know you’re meeting certain standards.”

“It’s just like what Pippa was giving me before,” you said, oddly embarrassed by the idea of putting on clothes just to show Buggy, “but now everything fits.”  

“Didja get new undies?” 

Your lips twisted up in an embarrassed smile, a little giggle bubbling out of your mouth. Buggy had seen you in all states of undress, you weren’t sure how you could manage to still feel so shy.

“I mean,” he said, gesturing towards you with the blade of his knife, “it’s a real shame about what happened to the ones from the other night. You gotta be more careful, babydoll.” 

You wanted to point out that it was his fault for ripping them because he wasn’t patient, but you had a feeling he’d just turn that around on you anyway. 

“I did,” you said. “Get new stuff, I mean.”

“Great,” Buggy said, dropping his knife and clapping his hands together. “Let’s start with that.”  

[undertale-fic-librarby]

Ghost Hunting With Skeletons by oblivionseight (Not Rated, Incomplete)

You're an engineer who works for Ebott's best research facility in one of the labs; your lifelong dream after finding a journal on Mount Ebott when you were a kid. When you aren't in the lab being smart, you're gathering materials at the abandoned doll factory for the machine you're trying to build. But one night, you meet a skeleton at the factory. Naturally, you lie about why you're there and say you're there to hunt ghosts. You befriend him and try to find a way to gather the materials while keeping up with that lie. But those lies catch up to you when you start to meet all the other skeletons. Edit: As of Chapter 29, all chapters have been edited and fixed slightly!

Give you my best shot by RoseintheStars457 (Teen And Up, Incomplete)

Your lease was up, and you decided to check out an ad in the paper. Little did you know it would lead you to a house full of skeletons, introducing you to a bunch of new friends (and possibly more) and setting off plenty of antics. Now if only you could get those weird dreams to stop...

Despite Everything, You're Only Human by UndynesSpear (Explicit, Incomplete)

“hey there, sweetheart, names red, nice to meet ya.” He took a lock of your hair in his slightly clawed hand and brought it to his nose, his eyes slid shut softly as he inhaled.You smelled like mint, peaches, human alcohol, and oh. Whats this? New chapter?!

Undercover Deity: Become Human by RainaChaeri (Teen And Up, Incomplete)

What happens when a deity gets tangled up with a bunch of skeletons? Athena was a goddess who just wanted to learn the ways of the earth more intimately than the way she had always known it to be, and after millions of begging and pleading (not really) to her “Mother” and “Father", they had finally folded and granted her a once in a very long lifetime opportunity to live amongst the beings on earth disguised as a human. So, this was it! Finally! A chance for her to learn everything there was to know about the earth from scratch! At least, that’s what she remembered the goal was. Oh, well. Join her as she learns the way of the earth, and maybe even earn friends along the way! Weirdly enough, the majority of them were skeletons. [written in third person]

Daughter of Death by Teutonic_lisp (Teen And Up, Incomplete)

(TOLD IN YOU/YOUR) A reaper, a few gods, and a bunch of skeletons. The life of a reaper wasn’t boring to her, everyday she would gather souls and lead them into eternal rest, and repeat. She watched creatures and Humans die, easily surpassing their lives and meeting once again in the underworld - or when she is evaluating their lives. One day, Y/N was told she was moving areas. A whole new continent in the world, in a city known as Ebott, where monsters had emerged from the mountain nearly five years ago. What happens when a workaholic with stubbornness to boot moves in the neighborhood, with skeletons causing havoc in her life? And, uh, well.. let’s say she isn’t the easiest person to get along with. *updated story description*

Frankenstein's Skeleton by lostcrown (Mature, Incomplete)

You were human once. Or, so was what the doctors told you. You wake to the world in a hospital bed with absolutely no memories about yourself and a body that is yours, but also not. Not your original, that is. While the authorities try to uncover what happened to you, the only survivor, you are left with next to nothing but the possibility to rebuild your life from scratch as a skeleton monster with a human soul. To ensure your safety while your unknown perpetrators are being hunted down, you are placed within a home containing an almost worrying amount of skeletons with varying personalities. Naturally, your life bursts into color and chaos as you try to navigate your days with your new roommates, but you seem to handle it well enough. Even if there are too many secrets lurking about. You wonder constantly – who are you?

Making A Monster by absurdmagewrites (Explicit, Incomplete)

Sometimes life throws you a curveball. For you, your curveball was going to bed looking like a human, and waking up looking like a monster. A skeleton monster to be precise. With the barrier breaking, a large surge of magic descended on the town you live in, and transformed you overnight. Unsure what to do with you, and the others changed, you're ushered into a facility until a monster with similar magic can take you to teach you how to wield the now uncontrollable magic you've been given. After waiting in this place for four years, you'd given up hope that anyone would ever want to take you. What a surprise for you when you find out that someone does. A lot of someones.

Your Friendly-Neighborhood Witch by earthvibes (Not Rated, Incomplete)

"so how did you two meet?" Sans, the laid-back leader of the skelebros group asked, his grin relaxed as he leaned over the kitchen table and sipped on his morning coffee. "Oh, uh..." You rubbed your chin and tried to play it cool. "Well, it was late last night, and I thought I was looking for a dead body in the abandoned woods, so you can imagine my surprise when I found out he wasn't my guy." "And then I punched her," Stretch replied, handing you a plate full of buttery pancakes. "Yeah," you hummed, oblivious to the sudden silence around you. "In the face, too." Tldr: that time stretch brings home a mage and doesn't realize it

Skeleton leaf by zeo_nulla (Mature, Incomplete)

You did not remember your old life, but you knew certain things like muscle memory, cooking, cleaning, gardening. Those came easily..and somehow despite everything your head was filled with the knowledge of plants, how could someone forget their name but remember the name and meaning of every flower? You sighed, baffled and threw a green cowl on over your cream coloured dress, breathing in the fresh forest air. You are a skeleton and are just trying to get by, you make some friends along the way but your past has a way of coming back to haunt you..... Even if you don't remember it.

Six Skeletons and The Waitress by Teutonic_lisp (Mature, Incomplete)

A picture perfect family hides the fact that your life is filled with manipulation and abuse. When you move away after high school, you encounter more than one skeleton monster that often tests your anxieties. Hey...why are they acting like that? *updated description

Six Skeletons, One Store Clerk by mccloudydayz (Teen And Up, Incomplete)

It was the only job you could grab. Along with the apartment-life blues, and your college education still ahead of you, could your setting be any more typical? Maybe...if some of your regulars hadn't emerged from several feet underground a few years ago. But, darn it, you chose this particular store for a reason, and you were going to show these fascinating new faces in and out your door with a smile that (surprisingly) has nothing to do with the fact that you were getting paid for it. Good thing, too, because you might get to make some bone-ified new friends in the process. Inspired by several AO3 users (listed in the first chapter notes)

[stormyoceans]

hey girl, I'm happy to hear that you're feeling better! 👊 listen, it's cold in my country right now and I want to keep warm. Tell me your fav european GL(not Asian, pls, I'm tired of it) when you're able to write long posts. You can take your time. The cold weather is forecast to last until May 20 😪

hello, anon!!!!

im sorry to hear the cold weather is gonna last so long in your country, i hope you're keeping warm and drinking lots of tea or other hot beverage of choice!!!!!

i can definitely give you some recs for wlw shows, although i need to give two little disclaimers first:

i actually know of only one european wlw show, so i hope it's okay if i expanded this list to include western shows in general ;;;;;;;;

networks and streaming platforms are my mortal enemies because they love cancelling sapphic shows after one or two seasons (AND FUCK THEM ALL FOR THAT TBH), but if i didn't put those series on the list, this would be very short and i also think we would be missing out on some great television, so im adding their status to let you know what to expect before getting into it

OKAY AND NOW WITHOUT FURTHER ADO LET'S GET INTO IT

a league of their own (comedy drama - 1 season - cancelled)

based on the 1992 film of the same name with new characters and storylines, the series, set in 1943, is about the formation of the rockford peaches, a women's team in the nascent all-american girls professional baseball league.

one of my favorites on this list and im so upset it got cancelled AMAZON PRIME YOU WILL PAY FOR YOUR CRIMES

anne+ (drama - 2 seasons + a movie - complete)

the one actual european wlw show of the list, this is a dutch drama series that follows the main character, anne, as she tries to navigate her early twenties as a young lesbian. upon bumping into her ex-girlfriend one day, anne reflects on how her past relationships have contributed to who she has become.

honestly for being from a smaller indie production this is such a relatable, engaging, and well-done series, i definitely recommend it!!!!

dickinson (historical comedy drama - 3 seasons - complete)

based on the life of emily dickinson, the series focuses on her relationships with her family, her friends, her society, and on her long-term romantic relationship with her childhood best friend and sister in law, sue.

another big favorite of mine, it's fun, wild, has an unique modern twist, and both hailee steinfeld and ella hunt are incredible

first kill (fantasy drama - 1 season - cancelled)

the series focus on the relationship between teenage vampire juliette fairmont, who needs to make her first kill in order to enter adulthood and take her place among her powerful family of legacy vampires, and calliope burns, who belongs to a monster-hunting family and needs to slay her first monster in order to gain her family's approval and officially become a hunter herself.

look, i know there are a lot of mixed reviews on this show, but personally i enjoyed it a lot. it's good, campy fun, and a breath of fresh air from the hetero love stories that pervade the genre

gentleman jack (historical drama - 2 seasons - cancelled)

based on the collected diaries of anne lister, which contain over four million words and are written in secret code, documenting a lifetime of lesbian relationships. the series starts in 1832, when anne leaves hastings brokenhearted and heads to halifax, to restore her uncle's estate that she has inherited. while restoring the estate, she finds that the family land has a coal mine that it's being stolen by two brothers and develops a relationship with a woman named ann walker.

genuinely SO UPSET about this one being cancelled, it was such a gorgeous show with the most delightful english humor and complex relationships WHY PEOPLE CAN'T RECOGNIZE QUALITY TELEVISION

gypsy (psychological thriller - 1 season - cancelled)

the series follows jean holloway, a therapist who seems to have it all, but who secretly obsesses over the people her patients talk about in their sessions. this leads her to seek out sydney, one of her patient's ex-girlfriend, with whom she starts developing a romantic relationship under a secret identity.

i wasn't sure whether to rec this or not because i have very mixed feelings about it like the concept is very intriguing to me but the execution wasn't the best imho. it's still a solid show tho, and naomi watts is. well, naomi watts

the haunting of bly manor (horror - 1 series - complete)

loosely based on the novella the turn of the screw by henry james, the series follows dani clayton, a young american woman hired as an au pair for the children of the wealthy wingrave family in england. after arriving at the bly estate, she begins to see apparitions that proceed to haunt the premises.

i personally LOVE all of mike flanagan's series, and this one is no exception, however (unpopular opinion) i do find the second half of it kinda lacking. it's still a fantastic show tho, and i adore victoria pedretti

killing eve (thriller - 4 seasons - complete [but at what cost])

the series follows eve polastri, a british intelligence investigator tasked with capturing an assassin named villanelle. as the chase progresses, the two develop a mutual obsession.

once again i wasn't sure whether to rec this or not because while the first two seasons of this show are honestly some of my all time favorite, and the third season is still acceptable, the last one is honestly one of the biggest disappointment i've ever experienced in television. still, i think it's a staple of wlw shows in the last decade so i had to include it

warrior nun (fantasy drama - 2 seasons - cancelled, but we should be getting a revival as a trilogy of feature films. hopefully)

the story follows ava silva, a a 19-year-old orphan who wakes up in a morgue with a new lease on life and a divine artifact embedded in her back. she discovers she is now part of the ancient order of the cruciform sword that has been tasked with fighting demons on earth, and powerful forces representing both heaven and hell want to find and control her.

when i tell you i was so skeptical when i started this show but it's honestly SO GOOD, it really has it all: talented cast, beautifully-written three-dimensional characters and relationships of all varieties, gorgeous cinematography, amazing fight scene choreography.......THEY BETTER DELIVER THOSE MOVIES OR IM GONNA BE SO UPSET

AND NOW LET ME ADD SOME SHOWS WITH WLW RELATIONSHIPS IN A BIGGER ENSEMBLE CAST

sense8 (scifi drama - 2 seasons - complete)

the story follows eight strangers as they discover that they form a cluster of "sensates": human beings who are mentally and emotionally linked, can sense and communicate with one another, and can share their knowledge, language and skills.

i don't think i could say something about this show that hasn't already been said tbh. it's wonderfully queer and explores issues related to identity, sexuality, gender, and politics. it's honestly a must watch.

the wilds (drama - 2 seasons - cancelled)

the series revolves around a group of teenage girls who are left stranded on a deserted island after their plane crashes on the way to the dawn of eve program, a young women's empowerment retreat. while the girls try to survive, they are unaware that they're actually the subjects of a social experiment.

AMAZON PRIME YOU WILL PAY FOR YOUR CRIMES PT. 2 STOP CANCELLING MY FAVORITE SHOWS 😭

yellowjackets (horror - 2 seasons - on going)

in 1996, a new jersey high school girls' soccer team travels to seattle for a national tournament. while flying over canada, their plane crashes deep in the wilderness, and the surviving team members are left stranded for nineteen months. the series follows both their attempts to stay alive in 1996 and the lives of the survivors 25 years later, in 2021, as the events of their ordeal continue to affect them many years after their rescue.

i. freaking. LOVE. this show!!!!!!!! but it also comes with a mile long list of trigger warnings, including cannibalism, SA, abuse, animal killing, etc. maybe it's silly to point this out considering the genre of the show, but still. just be safe if you do decide to watch it!!!!!!

and this is pretty much it!!!! this is obviously not a comprehensive list, im aware i left out some popular shows and other ones that feature sapphic relationships between side characters, but these are my personal favorites and they also feel like the series where the wlw part of the story is fairly front and center, at least imho ;;;;;;;;

[seekers-who-are-lovers]

I am relieved that I am at home at last. But at the same time sad that discovering other places, other cities, is over at the moment. If not for Andy @clouds-of-peach (thanks a million Andy!) I wouldn’t have the chance to see them. Maybe in other lifetime, but then the waiting time would be endless.

Strasbourg, for one, has inspired Hayao Miyazaki for his epic film, “Howl’s Moving Castle.” Apart from Colmar.

I adore and loathe the urgency of European train stations. I have decided that as much as possible I am to going to ride on the train rather than fly to reach my destination. But I don’t know how long with this ethos last.

Wrote down a couple of things I should bring once I decided to use the night rail services again: a blanket and a sleep mask. I initially thought of ear plugs to drown the noises, but owing from the last session when the German immigration police showed up, woke the passengers and asked for the identification cards, it would be best not to use them. Unless you have noise-cancelling headphones. It would do the trick as well. This action baffled the passengers with one thought in mind: what’s with the EU and Schengen Agreement? The Austrian man in front of me shook his head in disbelief. They particularly took a liking of two Chinese passengers asking the younger man where they were headed. When he replied that their final destination was Paris but would stay in Stuttgart for a couple of days, this made one of the police officers suspicious. To be honest, there was nothing suspicious about them. The officers were just, oh well, attempting to be bullies.

One thing I have realised is that travelling with teenagers with their raging hormones was not pleasant. Thank the gods they left the wagon after the conductor told them off that they were seated in the first class.

An advice if you want to ride on a train is that don’t forget to reserve a seat. It is very important.

[tandynicole]

Who Knew Charlie and the Chocolate Factory was Controversial?

Welcome to my very first blog post. Today I want to talk about the children's story that we all know and love, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Whether it be the original book, or one of the two movie adaptations, we’ve all at least heard of this classic story in some way. Today I want to focus on the original children’s book written by Roald Dahl and the controversies it has racked up throughout the years.

Let's start with a little background on the author and a quick summary of the book for those of us who may need a refresher. Roald Dahl, who died in 1990 at the age of 74, was a British author who is still considered one of the most popular children’s authors. He is known for popular works such as James and the Giant Peach, Matilda, and The Witches, and his books have sold more than 300 million copies globally. He was known to voice some offensive opinions outside of his work and was also notorious for his anti-sematic remarks. Be that as it may, his works were still very successful. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory was first published in 1964 and is perhaps one of Dahl’s most popular works, having sold at least 20 million copies world-wide in 55 different languages. It has two different movie adaptations, and has even been adapted for stage performances. So no matter which form it’s viewed in, this classic continues to lure children in with its rags-to-riches tale.

The main character of the book is an 11 year old boy named Charlie Bucket who lives in poverty with his parents and all 4 grandparents. Everyday on his way to school Charlie passes the famous chocolate factory owned by Willy Wonka. No one is ever seen coming in or out of the factory and Wonka is very secretive. Charlie’s grandfather tells him that this is due to competitors stealing Wonkas candy-making secrets, causing the factory to shut down temporarily in the past. One day Wonka announces that he will be hiding 5 Golden Tickets inside chocolate bars and that the children who find them will be rewarded with a tour of the factory and a lifetime supply of his products.

Charlie happens to find some money sticking out of the snow while walking one day, uses it to buy two chocolate bars, and discovers the final Golden Ticket in one of them. When Charlie and the four other children enter the factory they are amazed by both its beauty, and the creatures who work there. These creatures are the cacao-bean loving Oompa Loompa’s, who Wonka explains are from a land called “Loompaland”. They are described as being tiny men with white skin and golden hair who love to sing, and are the only people Wonka employs to work in his factory. As the tour continues, the other four children suffer bizarre, and sometimes painful, consequences for their selfish and bad behavior. For example the bubble gum obsessed Violet Beauregarde steals a piece of experimental gum that turns her into a blueberry. The mischievous Oompa Loompas break into songs highlighting the children's bad behavior each time this happens. By the end of the tour Charlie is the only one of the 5 children left standing, so to reward him for his good behavior Wonka gives him the chocolate factory and that's how the story ends.

Now if you’re anything like me you may be wondering, where did people find controversy in that? Well to start, Dahl had originally described the Oompa Loompas as African pygmies that Wonka found in the deepest, darkest parts of the African Jungle. However, Dahl himself changed their description to white-skinned and golden haired fantasy creatures in 1973 after many complaints and protests by the NAACP. The NAACP even went as far as to demand that the 1971 movie adaptation be given a different name than the book so people wouldn’t make the connection between the two and read the book. And now today the books publishers at Puffin Books are going to be making even more changes to the story in their New Edition reprints of the book. The Oompa Loompas will no longer be described as “tiny men no higher than my knee”, but will instead simply be called “small people” to avoid offending short people and to erase the exclusion of women. Also the description of Augustus Gloop, one of the 5 children on the tour, will be changed from “enormously fat” to just “enormous” to avoid offending heavy-weight children. I really don’t see the point in either of these changes since you can clearly see their original descriptions in both of the movies, but to each their own I guess.

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory isn’t the only one of Dahl’s works undergoing these changes. They are all being edited in some way and this is upsetting many fans of the original works as well as other authors and anti-censorship advocates. British-American novelist Salman Rushdie had this to say, “Roald Dahl was no angel, but this is absurd censorship. Puffin Books and the Dahl Estate should be ashamed.” My main question is where do they draw the line? At what point are they beginning to read these books with the pretense “how could this be seen as offensive”? Were these changes really necessary or are the Sensitivity Readers in charge of pointing these things out just that; too sensitive. I believe we’re beginning to step into the danger zone of controlling the creativity and imaginations of writers by changing their visions for their stories. Most children wouldn’t read these things and see them as offensive, so all they’re really going to accomplish is softening children and making them believe everything to be offensive. But part of life is having to learn to deal with things that might upset you, or make you uncomfortable. And children should have to learn that not everything is a personal attack.

If you’ve made it all the way to the end thank you! I would love to hear your thoughts and opinions on this topic. Just remember to stay respectful towards each other in the comments section. You can disagree with each other, but still be kind and respectful, that’s how good debates work. Let me know if you’d like to hear about any of Dahl’s other works and their individual controversies and changes. And also feel free to make requests on what you think I should write about next.

[thirdchoiceurl]

You want to see some real empty space, check out the big hole in the isotopes. This is a chart of nuclides colored by half-life, with dark blue being the most stable and peach-colored being the shortest lived.

On the left side where the two magic numbered bars intersect is lead-208, the heaviest stable atom in the universe. The highlighted element on the right is Uranium-238, one of the most prevalent primordial radionuclides on Earth. And that big square gap in between? The gulf of stability. Astatine, Radon, Polonium, Actinium, and yes, Francium live short and violent lives in this abyss, a pitfall that s-process nuclei fall into as they fail to become more than lead.

It’s not true as even a general rule that synthetic elements are short-lived. The elements in the gulf occur naturally in outlandishly small quantities as part of larger decay chains (even radon, a key radiological health concern and the number one cause of lung cancer, only exists on the scale of a few hundred tons on the entire planet).

Meanwhile, on the other side of the gulf in the real island of stability, there are several synthetic elements that have enough stability to outlive their creators and possibly all human civilization. Neptunium, Plutonium, Americium, and Curium all have isotopes with lifetimes on the order of millennia, and are all the worse for it - niche applications aside, the only things Americium and Curium are good for is creating the long-term nuclear waste storage problem.

The extremely unstable elements may be pretty useless, but I prefer them to the ones in the radiological danger zone with half-lives between 100 and 10,000 years. These elements live in the soil, the water, the minerals for long past any human timescale, but their rate of decay is high enough for them to be outrageously radioactive and highly radiotoxic anyway.

Radioactive decay is a terrifically powerful force, and it’s only the billions of years of “cooling off” that our planet has experienced that even allows us to survive. In extremely ancient times, hundreds of millions of years ago, natural uranium deposits had enough fissile U235 to form naturally occurring reactors when saturated with groundwater, producing horrifically radioactive mineral deposits that would wash out into their surroundings and leave vast areas full of invisible poison that would kill uncomprehending wildlife with no chance for escape and no way to even begin to sense what was happening to them.

Compared to that, I’ll take the stupid elements at the bottom of the gulf.

I found you in a video from The Click (my favorite YouTuber) and had to come follow you. I came because francium has been my least favorite element for a while and I needed to inform you that everything you said was justified. :3

Thanks for the moral support. Between the video you saw, a few reposts, and Francium catching random strays on a Game Changer episode, my response has really gone a lot further than I expected. We gotta stand by our convictions that certain elements are simply bullshit, and let that bullshit guide the science

[xhanisai]

Dumb Litty

AO3 / FFN

Pairing - Adrinette + Ladynoir Prompt - 'Coffee and Marriage'

Summary:

"I got you a fresh cinnamon-bun latte from that place you've been wanting to go...? It's not decaffeinated and it's full of natural sweeteners too. Do...do you like it?" He couldn't help the way his voice wavered with vulnerability towards the end, nervous by the way she remained silent and her eyes continued to stare at the cup.

Was the latte art too much?

Did she not like cinnamon buns?

Mon Dieu...does she hate coffee now!?

"Adrien..." He froze at her direct tone, internally praying to every God he's ever heard of for his face to not sweat because the last thing he wanted was to get his nasty sweat all over Marinette's lovely hair-

"Marry me."

(Or, Adrien gets Marinette a coffee and the sleep deprived girl asks him to marry her.)

~(x)~ . . . Usually, Adrien was one of the few people in the class who was quite apprehensive and utterly unamused with Marinette's extreme caffeine habits and intakes. And that's putting it lightly. He and Alya were the only ones vocal about their distaste for the unhealthy addiction too, the former regularly concocting up schemes to get the silly designer to drink some water or get some damn sleep in his spare time. "No Plagg, I'm not turning off the lamp. I need to brainstorm a few more decent ideas to get Marinette to look after herself. She's so stubbornly smart and she would easily evade the ones I've already come up with so far-" "I don't care if Pigtails likes to munch on raw coffee beans or bathe in sugar like an idiot- I NEED MY SLEEP KID! SLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!" A few weeks back, they were just so close to breaking Marinette's habits, having replaced her beverages with vitamin water and decaffeinated teas in a manner that would make even the most stealthiest ninjas out there proud and coaxing the girl into using their laps as a pillow to nap on during break times. Not even Agreste junior allowed the shy girl to stammer or run her way out of it whenever it was his turn to be the human pillow. (But holy shit, he was never as thankful for the muscles he gained through sports and part-time heroing as he was then, having to hold back a squirming girl away from her coffee was a workout itself!) He even noted that she slept better and for longer when she was with him! It was all going amazingly! . But then Nino... . Oh, Nino. . It only took one, teary-eyed, lip wobbling plea from the aspiring artist, a promise of a freshly baked peach and orange blossom soufflé in exchange for only one can of the small, cheap energy drink Nino was sipping at the time. How could Lahiffe refuse such a delectable, once in a lifetime opportunity!? He tried his best to not take the temptress' offer. Oh boy did he try- No. Actually, he didn't try at all. He's a greedy glutton. An absolute slut for the Dupain-Cheng's goods. Just like ninety-nine point nine percent of the rest of France. The other nought point nought one percent of them were health freaks that thought just consuming a crumb of buttery carbs would doom them for eternity. "Did you say p-peach? And- and- and orange blossom??? All of that in a soufflé????" "Uh-huh~ With an even layer of powdered sugar, some shavings of candied oranges, a smidge of orange zest and a handpicked peach tree flower which is edible," "Mon Dieu...mec..." "Is...is that not enough? I'm sorry for bothering you-" "WHAT!? NON, NON, NON! IT'S MORE THAN ENOUGH! Here, you can have the whole pack of drinks! I will die for that godly dessert, Marinette!" And that's how Agreste and Césaire found an energetic Cheng, bouncing off the walls like the hyperactive Duracell bunny whilst simultaneously doing a million things at once and a shamelessly content Nino, leisurely licking his spoon to savour the last taste of the devil's concoction, letting out a pleased belch and smacking his lips. To this day, he still claims that getting whacked by Adrien's ruthless sabre and the random, terrifying broom that Alya found, multiple times, was completely worth it for the gold that was the handmade Marinette Dupain-Cheng soufflé. Thankfully, his girlfriend and his best friend kept a sharp eye on him from then on, never hesitating to direct threatening messages through their eyes alone whenever he dares to even budge for Marinette's hazardous requests. That's how they managed to get the girl back into healthier habits. The model even snuck around her balcony as Chat Noir during his night patrols just to make sure that she wasn't storing any of the heart attack juice secretly. "Your plans and schemes were already bad enough, but this is ridiculous! You're just stalking the girl now!" "What? No Plagg, I'm just trying to make sure that she's okay and getting some sleep." "You can do that by calling her or texting her!" "But this way is easier!" "STALKER. S. T. A. L. K. E. R. You're a STALKER." "That's enough sass from you, monsieur! Plagg, transforme-moi!" "NONONONOONONO I'M SORRYYYYYyyyyyyyyyyyy-" . So yes, usually Adrien was a rigid anti 'Coffeenette' guy. But that didn't mean that he wanted her to be deprived of caffeine for life- that was asking for way too much. No, no, no. He just wanted her to get back on her feet on progressing terms and recently, she has been doing just that, much to his chagrin. He wasn't that stupid, however. With all the work and extracurricular that his beloved friend has, not even he would be able to power through them all without a drop of coffee. Now that she was well weaned off of it, he thought that it would be a good idea to let her indulge once in a while again. Moderately, that is. Plus, everyone has noticed how exceedingly lethargic and exhausted she has been for a while which not even the naps with him were able to cure. It would crush him if the naps stopped working. Adrien unconditionally loved holding Marinette and absolutely adored running his fingers through her soft, silky hair as she snoozed on his chest. He had to help her out. Just before he arrived at school in the morning, the blond decided to head to the new café that he's observed Marinette eyeing dreamily lately, wanting to surprise her with an enticing hot drink from there. He enthusiastically splurged on the beverage, making sure to politely ask the barista to use the healthier ingredients they had available and even getting an adorable cocoa picture on the milk foam which he carefully handled once given. (It was of a charming, black kitten with little black hearts around it!!!) He was deaf to the barista's coos of how lucky his 'girlfriend' was to have him, heads in the clouds and purely excited to make his wonderful friend happy. Adrien also hoped that it could be enough to get Marinette to forgive him for all those times he and Alya denied her of her sugary concoctions. It was for her best. With the comforting scent of cinnamon and nutmeg wafting from the cup, he internally prayed that this wouldn't backfire and revert her back into the feral caffeine monster. 'I'd have to transform as Chat Noir right there and then to keep her in check,' He mused to himself humorously. . Finally, Adrien arrived at class, pleasantly surprised at his beloved's presence on her bench. His heart sank slightly at the way she was passed out on the desk, hair quite dishevelled and her brows tense. She really was going through a lot... Not wanting to waste any more time, the boy roamed towards her, placing the cup down gently and then bent down to her level so that their faces were a few centimetres apart. He placed one hand on her cheek, his thumb rubbing her brow sweetly as he whispered her name a few times, beckoning her to wake up. Adrien was blind to the way Alya and Nino synchronously waggled their brows at each other, cheeky smirks plastered on their lips as they watched the persistent model prompt their precious girl awake. At last, with a soft "Ma Princesse~? S'il te plait, réveille-toi," murmured lovingly in her ear, Marinette's lashes fluttered open, revealing dazed baby blues. They flickered around, trying to regain their bearings until her eyes focused on the beaming boy before her. Her brows furrowed once more as she lifted her head up, face still very much leaning against his strong hand for support and warmth. "Hmm...Adrien?" The way she breathed out his name sent his heart to overdrive and the boy couldn't help but melt. She was way too cute for his own good. "Salut, Marinette. How are you holding up?" He brushed her cheekbone in comforting circles, foreheads almost touching and his heart never ceasing to race. He earned a disgruntled groan as a response, causing him to chuckle. "If you're here to torture me with those horrid vitamin water drinks again, I will ignore you for the rest of the day no matter how many times you throw those puppy eyes at me." It took the golden-haired boy everything to not correct her with "kitten eyes", deciding to shake his head at her good-naturedly. Even her glare was attractive! "Heh, I think you'll really like what I got for you this time," "That's what you said last time and it turned out to be carrot sticks. CARROT STICKS." "Hey, they were organic, fresh and well seasoned. With a side of hummus too." "That's not the po-oooooint..." Giggles erupted from Adrien, completely entertained by Marinette's whines and dramatics. He loved seeing this side of her. It was just so tempting to gather her up in his arms right there and then. "Stop laffin' at me..." She slurred, cheeks red with embarrassment. Without another word, Adrien brought the cup in front of her, placing her hands over it as he lifted the lid to show the creamy, sweet goodness with a generous waft of steam emanating from it. He bit his lip to hide his goofy grin as he carefully watched Marinette's expression, his hands over hers now. . "I got you a fresh cinnamon-bun latte from that place you've been wanting to go...? It's not decaffeinated and it's full of natural sweeteners too. Do...do you like it?" He couldn't help the way his voice wavered with vulnerability towards the end, nervous by the way she remained silent and her eyes continued to stare at the cup. Was the latte art too much? Did she not like cinnamon buns? Mon Dieu...does she hate coffee now!? "Adrien..." He froze at her direct tone, internally praying to every God he's ever heard of for his face to not sweat because the last thing he wanted was to get his nasty sweat all over Marinette's lovely hair- "Marry me." . His mind turned to mush. He blinked once. Twice. Maybe thrice. And then his mouth ran without his permission. "Sure." . The rest of the class exploded with pandemonium, their unadulterated havoc was blind and deaf to a blissful Marinette who was happily sipping away her latte and a very confused, 'oh-shit-what-just-happened?' Adrien. ~(x)~ . "I think I'm engaged." Was the first thing that Chat Noir blurted out as soon as Ladybug landed on the rooftop, the heroine instantly losing her footing and almost fell face first against the slates. Her partner however was quick to catch her, his clawed hands steadying her arms but his face remained slightly panicked. His Lady gave him a look that demanded an explanation, straightening up to meet his gaze. "You see, my super cute and talented good friend proposed to me after I bought her coffee...I said yes," He was clutching his tail now as if he was guilty of a crime, kitten ears drooping and rosy lips pooched. Ladybug simply raised a brow, looked to the side in thought and scratched the back of her head. "Huh...how funny. My sweet, adorable friend- the boy I like, gave me a coffee whilst I was sleep-deprived as hell and apparently, I accidentally told him to 'marry me'..." "..." "..." "Don't take it back, Marinette. I even bought an engagement ring." "..." "I even had our names engraved on it!" "..." "My Lady...?" . "...Of all ways for our identities to be revealed...this is what we get???" Tiredly, she slapped her hand against her face, still lacking the energy and mental power to have fully blown freakout. Not even the delicious boost which was the latte he generously bought her was enough for her brain to compute the situation. "...We're still getting married, right?" "Is that really all that you can think of right now? Huh, Adrien? Or is the lack of caffeine messing with your brain too?" "Well, I'm also thinking about our wedding night if you want honesty." The hero sneakily bopped her nose with his, way too amused with the outcome to her liking. Her brain just simply had too much excitement for the day. "Just...just take me back home and we'll talk about it after I get some sleep..." "Need me as your pillow, Buguinette~?" "With our hypothetical wedding night on your brain? Not a chance, alley cat." "Ah, boo..." . Ladybug instantly detransformed on her balcony as soon as her partner dropped her off, her body vibrating with the need to get inside her bed right away and sleep for the next ten years or so. It wasn't until her head finally landed on the pillow did she realise that the sly feline not only snuck a brief, tender kiss on the lips but he also slid the ring on her finger and whispered in her ear "Be Mine," before leaping away. . The engagement ring. . Now, how the hell was she supposed to explain to her Maman and Papa that she's engaged!? . . . ~(x)~ A/N: Don't worry lads. It's more of a promise ring. The idiots get each other much nicer engagement rings down the years cos the fools have forgotten that you can't get married until you're eighteen in France ahahahahah! Dumbasses.

[gffa]

I swore for about ten entire minutes that I wasn’t going to do a set of recs for THE OLD GUARD, I was just going to watch the movie, indulge in a bit of fanart, and then I would be done. But then I was like HOW ABOUT I HAVE SOME FEELINGS INSTEAD? and here we are. So HAVE SOME FEELINGS ABOUT ANCIENT IMMORTALS AND REASONABLY ANCIENT IMMORTALS AND BABY IMMORTALS.  COME YELL ABOUT FEELINGS WITH ME, FANDOM. THE OLD GUARD RECS: ✦ An Unrecorded History by xpityx, joe/nicky, 1.1k    Joe closed the book and dropped it none too carefully on the table. He would have liked to have thrown it away—to prevent anyone else from reading it—but it was far too easy to make copies of books in these times, so he knew it would be no use. He also could not quite bring himself to discard something as precious as a book, no matter how poorly written it was. ✦ keep yourself alive for me by retts, joe/nicky, NSFW, 1.7k    Nicky grabbed Joe’s hand and pulled him towards the stairs, not that there was any resistance from Joe. ‘If I remember correctly, this one has two bathrooms, doesn’t it?’ ✦ let’s give them something to talk about by lacecat, joe/nicky & andy/nile, nsfw, 4.8k    In which Nicky and Joe take liberties with recounting history, because it’s fun. ✦ Family Dinner by dadvans, joe/nicky & nile, 2.4k    The only time Nile ever sleeps a full night and feels remotely part of herself is when she stays with Nicky and Joe, who shampoo brains out of each other’s hair in the shower and clean their guns on the couch watching Chopped reruns. ✦ one burning candle, one wind-whipped flame by Dialux, joe/nicky & andy, 5.1k    Yusuf dies, and dies, and dies, and lives, as well, for a thousand years. Nicolo’s by his side for all of them, and it’s not quite the love story of eternity, but it’s theirs: and that’s enough for them both ✦ Future Days by maroon, joe/nicky & andy/noriko, 2.1k    “Then why untie me?” The man grins, terribly amused, and awfully affectionate. Andromache wants to look away, but for some reason, can’t. Maybe because the look in his eye reminds her of herself, a lifetime ago. “Because my beloved is soft, and kind, and will flay me alive if he’d known I tied up a woman.” ✦ Islands of Hours by RC_McLachlan, joe/nicky, 1.5k    There eventually comes a lull, and so they go to Malta. ✦ take out by j_gabrielle, joe/nicky & nile, ~1k    It probably should bother her when Joe kicks the door to the flat open and promptly marches in to deposit their takeout on the living room table. All while he is tracking half-dried blood and mud on the shiny tile floors. “You, ah,” Nile says even as she hurries to pick through the night’s offerings. “They let you on the subway like that?” ✦ all a smooth plain, and the soil deep by inlovewithnight, andy & nile & joe & nicky, 2.1k    After London, they all need to rest. ✦ we are golden by retts, joe/nicky, ~1k    Joe lowers his gaze to the open page on his lap. The sketch is of a man on a charging horse, hair and beard whipping in the wind, sword in one hand and a shield in the other. The eyes in the drawing are the same eyes watching him now. His Nicolo. 'You were a hard fucker to kill back then, Nicky.’ ✦ An eagle’s old age, a sparrow’s youth by BakedAppleSauce, joe/nicky, 2.2k    Joe comes shuffling back into the room, heavy footsteps that mean he’s either tired, or not really trying, or both. Familiar as breathing. Nicky’d recognize him anywhere, walking among a million of strangers. In which some people are laying low for a while, in more ways than one. ✦ A Most Forgetful Death by RC_McLachlan, joe/nicky, 1.2k    “You’re an incurable romantic,” Nicky says, and though his expression doesn’t so much as twitch, Joe can hear the laughter languishing between the words, can feel it on his tongue and rubbing up against his teeth when Nicky meets him halfway to smear a kiss against his mouth. ✦ Luce e ombre by sheafrotherdon, andy & nile, 1.2k    The discomfort is so new that it startles her, and she searches her memory to remember a time before she was immortal: a time when a cut, a scrape, a bruise hurt for longer than a moment, long enough to interrupt sleep. The memories don’t come ✦ When I Am with You by takethisnight_wrapitaroundme, joe/nicky, NSFW, 5.4k    “You… would like to waste a thousand euros’ worth of champagne by pouring it all over me?” Nicky has to repeat it aloud to make sure he’s heard right. While spending some quality time together on vacation in France, Nicky has a surprise for Joe. And Joe, as it turns out, has a surprise for Nicky. ✦ the common tongue of your loving me by spokenitalics, joe/nicky, NSFW, 1.4k    “It’s just— Do you ever wonder how much we’ve forgotten?” Nicky asks, eventually. “How many names and faces and places have just… faded away from our memory?” ✦ i have loved you for a thousand years by owilde, ~1k    It’s him. Again. Yusuf shields his eyes from the blinding desert sunlight, staring into the near distance where a man is stood, alone, a harsh silhouette cut against the bright blue sky and peach-coloured sand. ✦ this is why by retts, joe/nicky, 1.2k    Small as it was, they had their own room in the London safe house, which was a good thing because Joe was prying open Nicky’s mouth with his fingers. Not with his tongue, much as Nicky would prefer it, but with three calloused fingers sneaking inside his lips as if Nicky wouldn’t wake up from the intrusion. He was on his back, Joe pressed closer to him than his own shadow. The slant of moonlight from the window illuminated Joe’s dark eyes as he bent over Nicky. Joe sucked in the corner of his mouth, a tell that he’d never shaken off all these long centuries. ✦ I Found Peace in Your Violence by j_gabrielle, joe/nicky, 1.5k    5 Times Joe and Nicky kill each other + 1 (of many) times they killed someone together ✦ life is very long by kaydeefalls, joe/nicky & andy & nile & booker & quynh & copley, 7.1k    Andromache tells him: “The Greeks used to have seven different words for love. Well. More, probably. But I remember seven.” She shrugs. “There are many ways to love one another, and life is long. We’ve time enough for them all. It’s the only thing that makes it worthwhile.” Nicky and his immortal family, over the centuries. ✦ take a breath by BeStillMySlashyHeart, joe/nicky & andy & nile & booker, 1k    Once they are safe, Nicky and Joe take a moment together. ✦ Between the Hour and the Age by hauntedjaeger (saellys), andy & nile & joe & nicky, 2.5k    “To the Art Institute of Chicago,” Andy echoes, “so that my breasts may be culturally appreciated in perpetuity.” She tips the bottle and lets out three drops. As they fall to the stone floor, Joe and Nicky rap their knuckles on the nearest pieces of metal: the other lantern for Nicky, the oxidized helmet for Joe. One rap for each drop. In another time, they might have struck their swords on shields. ✦ how we live by retts, joe/nicky, ~1k    Life, though, brings pain. Goddamn pain. Bullets that struck his cranium and pelvis – the big bones in the body – are forced out. The rest went through him, carrying organ tissue and muscle with them. Those lost bits have to be regrown. Bones realign and the ribs in his lungs retract so they can breathe again. So Nicky can breathe again. And when he breathes, he thinks, Yusuf. ✦ Paradeisos by Enneara, joe/nicky, 2.9k    Traveling through Greece with Yusuf after fleeing the Holy Land, Nicolò suffers a crisis of faith. ✦ The Language of Love by 1derspark, joe/nicky & andy/quynh & booker & nile, 4.5k    Or five times Nicky hears Joe speak his language and one time Nicky returns the favor. ✦ Le Vite by ScribeofArda, joe/nicky & andy & nile & booker, 8k    Nicky breathes out. “What did I miss?” he asks, staring out at the hills. “Why didn’t I see this coming?” After everything, after finding Nile and losing Booker and Andy’s new mortality, Joe is pissed off. Nicky is just tired. ✦ The god of my idolatry by Petra, andy/nile, NSFW, 3.4k    “You said you were worshipped as a god.” “I was.” Nile steels herself and asks, “Would you like to do it again?” Andy laughs and throws back the contents of her glass. “They don’t teach you pick-up lines in the Marines, do they.” ✦ love is not over by retts, joe/nicky & andy & nile, 1.3k    'Babe, do you know what this reminds me of?’ asked Nicky. Joe licked his lips and tilted his head to the side, gaze intent on the mole on Nicky’s cheek. 'What?’ 'The first time you drew me.’ ✦ Case Analysis by skeeno, joe/nicky & andy & booker & copley, 3.4k    It’s not totally out of the ordinary for the people Copley meets in his line of work to be extraordinary. But he’s intrigued by these four. ✦ compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience by Jack_R, joe/nicky & andy & quynh, 11.9k    ‘You are a shame to your countrymen and the lowest of the low,’ Yusuf said, ‘and your mother copulated with a dog.’ ✦ Everything in moderation (even moderation) by BakedAppleSauce, joe/nicky, NSFW, 6.1k    The novelty has worn off, of course, but it’s not the novelty that keeps anybody coming back, anyway. Novelty never sustains anything. ✦ What the Water Takes by xpityx, andy & nile & quynh, 1k    Here is a secret she will never write down. ✦ Stracciatella by ScribeofArda, joe/nicky & andy & nile, 4.8k    “None of us have any evidence of the ways we have died,” Nicky continues. “But you remember the fall, don’t you? You remember the first time you died, the way your blood spilled out as your throat was slashed. I remember the first time I died, when the love of my life drew his sword across my neck as I drove mine into his chest and we both fell to the sand.”

[fruit-salad-ship]

Plum is so consistently present in every AU that I'm beginning to suspect that she is Peach's canon event.

She fully is. Grey comes and goes, some AUs have Val, or Bob or Boa, others don't, but the girls are destined to find eachother one way or another. Their whole beings gravitate towards each other even if they arent trying, even if theyre enemies, even if they dont know whats happening. Some people are just meant to be, no matter what.

falling through the multitude of universes, each would come to the realisation that in every lifetime, every form of existance theyve got, across millions of hypotheticals, somehow they find each other. Sometimes its horrifyingly sad, other times theyre bonnie and clyde, ride or die. never fails though.

[chiwhorei]

vanilla

pairing: k. sugawara x fem!reader x t. kageyama

genre: smut, 18+ minors dni

word count: 1.5k

warnings: oral, a little degradation, hair pulling, dom!suga, threesome

a/n: hey! i’m here with some more very late content because i have never been able to follow a schedule successfully in my life. kinktober was set out to be a challenge for me to stretch my writing and practice on characters i haven’t yet explored, but it started becoming hard to even think about my own writing. anyway, i’m exhausted and didn’t add the taglist because i really need to go to bed.

hymn: doves in the wind (ft. kendrick lamar) by sza

kinktober 2020 - threesome (m/f/m)

Sugawara Koushi loves to find joy in the simple things. A crisp autumn morning, and the smell of freshly washed bed sheets. He appreciates the first scoop of vanilla bean ice cream, and the sound of your yoga mat rolled out onto the hardwood floor in the morning with the sweet, domestic promise of another day together.

Your boyfriend always ensures he keeps a spritely, positive attitude no matter his surroundings, even with one hand wrapped into your hair and tugging down. Your eyes meet his above you, Suga’s blown wide in a certain sadistic gleam.

“Well, my dear Tobio-chan,” Suga shifts to his junior, the tall brunette sweating bullets next to him, “is she all you’ve ever dreamed of?”

Your knees protest at the hardwood below you but you remain still, waiting for the next instruction from Koushi as he pets at your hair with care. The pair stand at the foot of yours and Suga’s bed, looking down at your form. The pretty blue dress Koushi picked out for you is bunched up dangerously high on your thighs. Your eyes are glossy, pupils blown wide and reading anticipatory desire for what your boyfriend has planned.

Nervous isn’t nearly a strong enough word to use right now. Kageyama finds a certain buzzing joy from nerves before a big game, synapsis soaked in eagerness when he throws up his first serve. Kageyama isn’t nervous, he’s been dipped in terror and rolled in a thick layer of lust like he’s never felt before.

He has no idea how the night's events led him to the apartment of his old volleyball club teammate and manager. There were whispers shared between you and Suga, purposefully just out of earshot so that Kageyama could only hear every few words or an occasional sentence.

“I think it’s an offer he couldn’t refuse. He’s been pining for you since his first year of High School.” Kageyama’s ears burn red hot with the knowledge you are talking about him. Your giggle bounces past his ears like a siren, looking at your boyfriend with less shock than would be assumed given the context.

“I don’t know Kou, if you think he can handle it..”

“Did you hear what she said, Tobio?” Sugawara’s voice brings him back to his current predicament, looking down to see your face positioned right in front of his hard, clothed cock. You wear a beautiful smile, one Kageyama has kept filed in the recesses of his mind for the last 6 years, never fully able to let the image of you fall away. “It was just a stupid crush.” He would say to himself like a penance, while stroking his cock to the memory of you bending over to pick up a stray volleyball or helping him wrap up a busted finger. The way you lightly kissed his bandage for “luck” miraculously always made him need to get patched up more often.

“I want to see your pretty cock, Tobio-kun.” The tone of your voice makes his knees weak, sin seeping off of the last syllable, He’s pictured you in this position a million times before, but actually seeing your lips lightly ghosting over his zipper is not something he thought would actually happen to him in this lifetime. Your hot breath fans over his crotch, shiny lip gloss threatening to stain his dress slacks.

His mind is working faster than his hands, causing an impatient groan from Sugawara. Your boyfriend places a slender hand on the taller man’s shoulder, urging him into action. Kageyama unbuttons his pants with shaky hands, pulling out his length and he can almost feel your bottom lip touch him. Your mouth turns up at the corners again at the sight. You were right, his cock is long and pleasantly thick with a throbbing pink tip.

“So pretty.”

“Go on, doll, show Tobio what your dirty little mouth can do.” Suga’s hand is pulling the back of your hair again, meeting your awaiting mouth to Kageyama’s weeping head. Your tongue shoots out to swirl around his tip, the hot muscle stealing a low grunt from the stoic pro athlete. Deciding that Kageyama has dealt with enough teasing, you take him into your mouth with care, placing your hands on his thighs to keep balance. A resounding fuck echoes off of the apartment walls when your nose brushes his pelvis. You’re gagging around his impressive length, the ache in your throat is dizzying with your boyfriend keeping you pressed to the hilt.

“What an obedient girl you are, y/n. You’ve always been such a people pleaser.” Sugawara muses at you, his praise making your throat relax to accommodate the obstruction. As you begin to bob your head, Kageyama’s hands shoot behind him for purchase on the bed frame. His teeth are grinding down painfully as you work his cock. Your moans reverberate around him, his head wants to fall back but Kageyama wills himself to keep his eyes on you, lest he misses a second of his most debauched fantasies coming to life.

“Her mouth is down right sinful,” Sugawara pulls you off of Kageyama’s dick with a salacious, wet pop, “but her tight little cunt is even better.” The sentence is suspended in the air momentarily before hitting the brunette like a truck. You’re lifted to your feet by Suga’s hand still wrapped in your hair, you scramble to steady yourself with weak hands fisting the front of your boyfriend's shirt. He holds you for a moment, pulling you into a messy kiss that has you melting into his embrace. Koushi holds a cloying charm with each peck to your pre-stained lips, but quickly spins you around to shove you towards Kageyama again. He grabs your elbows to keep you upright, peering down at your dazed expression with curiosity.

You lurch forward, pulling Kageyama down to meet your lips for the first time by his dark brown locks. His mouth is frozen for a moment before opening up to your welcoming tongue. He could get lost in your peach flavored kiss, hands finding your hips and gripping tightly. Suga’s laugh throws him out of the intoxicating reverie as the older man pulls you to press against his chest. Deft fingers pull down the zipper of your tight dress before brushing off the thin straps to expose your bare breasts and lace panties.

Suga traces his thin fingers across the curve of your tits, down your hips to find a home hooked in the last semblance of modesty you have left. The silver-haired man puts his chin on your shoulder and smiles brightly.

“You’ve always been sweet on my y/n, Tobio-chan. You used to follow her around like a lost little puppy, it was so cute.” Suga pushes his hand down the front of your panites, shoving two fingers into your dripping pussy without warning, your head rolls back into the juncture of his neck as he begins to stretch you out. “Sometimes, I have her put on that cute uniform skirt and walk around with my cum leaking out of her tight little cunny.” The sound of your perversely sweet lover talking about you like you aren’t there ignites a new wave of desire in your abdomen. He continues pumping his digits into you harshly, eliciting a depraved squelching from your pussy.

“She’s drooling all over my fingers Tobio, I bet you want to feel how she’s clenching, don’t you?” Suga’s sadistic side is not something surprising to you, but shocks Kageyama to the core, barely able to nod dumbly in response. Sugawara tsks him, clicking his tongue with gleaming humor. “I want to hear you say it. Tell me how you want my sweet girlfriend bouncing on your cock.”

Kageyama’s words catch in his throat, but tumble out as your whimpering intensifies. “Please, I- let me fuck your girlfriend, Suga.” His plea is timid and almost robotic, but pleases Suga enough for him to rip the soaking underwear down your shaky legs. You’re now completely naked in front of both mostly clothed men. Your boyfriend has always enjoyed a nuanced power imbalance.

Kageyama sits down on the edge of your bed, stroking his cock slowly as you’re dragged towards him. You shuffle onto his lap with little grace, grabbing at Kageyama’s strong bicep so that you don’t tip over. He feels your hot cunt inches away from where he’s always wanted you. The culmination of years of helpless pining for the one thing he could never get is dissolving around him. Suga wraps his hand around your neck from behind, craning it up so that you meet his eyes. “You’re my good girl, right?” You nod furiously, desperate to gain permission to lower yourself onto the thick cock in front of you. Your eyes glaze over in lust as Suga’s thumb rubs your cheek.

“Put on a good show for me, doll.” You hear your sweet, unassuming boyfriend’s voice like dripping syrup. Koushi always finds pleasure in the most interesting places, one of them being the shared look of bliss as your velvety pussy hugs tightly onto his former underclassman.

No one would guess, but Sugawara Koushi is anything but vanilla.

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

[oikawaplssteponme]

peach scone - hobo johnson

pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x fem! reader

genre: angst, unrequited love

ratings/warnings: sfw, swearing, reader has a crappy boyfriend

word count: 1,327 words

synopsis: “he falls in love with a girl, girl already has a boyfriend, she kinda loves him back, but not really, they're just really good friends, and that's fine, he understands, it's rational”

a/n: this is kinda a song fic, kinda not. i just love this song and wanted to write something kinda related to it. i’ve been writing a lot for bnha so i thought it was about time i get back to Haikyuu :)) reblogs are super helpful <3 fic under the cut

•

Kuroo Tetsurou was indefinitely, undoubtedly, incredibly, in love with you. He was. He was in so deep. Deeply in love with his best friend. Kuroo certainly didn’t plan to fall for you, sometimes these things just happen. He just so happened to look at you differently one day and come to terms with all the suppressed feelings from his childhood. Seeing you as more than just the girl who would bandage his scraped knees after falling off of his bike. Seeing you as more than just the girl front row of all his volleyball matches. Seeing you as someone he loved. Not the friendship kind of love. The kind where you want to wake up next to this person every morning. The kind where you want to be with them through good times and bad. Kuroo wanted that with you and you alone.

He could look at you for hours. He could listen to whatever nonsense came out of your lips and believe it to be the most interesting thing he’s ever heard. He tried telling you. He did. You thought he was joking most of the time. How cliché of him to fall for you. You disregarded every time he called you pretty, assuming him to be messing with you. He loved the thought of just being with you. Maybe it was just better than being alone though.

~

You had asked Kuroo to meet you at your favorite bakery. The bakery where you two would always go. It was your spot. The spot where you would sip chai lattes and he would try his best not to fall for you even more.

As Kuroo approached the bakery, he spotted you instantly. You were talking to someone. He had never seen this person before. Maybe they were a stranger, asking for directions. Maybe they were a relative? Kuroo simply walked up to you, hoping the man would leave you alone.

“Hey Y/N! Is this guy bothering you?” asked Kuroo. You laughed.

“Oh Tetsurou you’re here! Oh no not at all! Good that the two of you can finally meet now,” you cheered. Kuroo raised a brow.

“Y/N who is this?”

“Kuroo, meet my boyfriend…”

Kuroo’s world seemed to have crumbled into a million tiny pieces. Boyfriend? You had a boyfriend, and it wasn’t Kuroo.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you.” He held out his hand for Kuroo to shake. Kuroo stared at his hand, still rattling from the shock he just endured.

“Yeah it’s, uh, nice to meet you too…” Kuroo reluctantly shook his hand firmly. The two of them made uncomfortable eye contact.

“Why don’t we head inside and grab something to eat? I’d love for the two of you to get to know each other!” You smiled. Kuroo couldn’t believe it. The little bakery was your spot. Just for the two of you. Not for the two of you plus your new boyfriend.

“I actually just remembered that I was supposed to meet Kenma for something. I’ve, uh, I’ve gotta head out,” stuttered Kuroo. You titled your head.

“Are you sure? You can’t stay for a bit?” You asked. Kuroo shook his head.

“Yeah I’m sure…”

“At least let me buy you something to eat before you go,” you insisted. You grabbed Kuroo’s arm, pulling him inside. He couldn’t say no to you.

The three of you stood in line of the bakery. Your boyfriend’s arms wrapped around you as you kissed his cheek. Kuroo’s fists were clenched so tightly he could probably turn a rock to dust. Your boyfriend looked back at Kuroo.

“You alright man?” He asked teasingly. He was doing it on purpose. He knew damn well that Kuroo had to like you for more than just a friend, and he would use that to his advantage.

“I’m all good.”

You placed your order at the bakery register. You handed Kuroo his treat.

“Well I wish you could’ve stayed longer. Maybe next time?” You sighed. Kuroo nodded.

“Yeah…”

Kuroo headed for the door, before getting pulled back by the boyfriend. He had grabbed the back collar of Kuroo’s shirt.

“Watch it.”

He let go of Kuroo. Kuroo didn’t reply, simply rushing out the door. Kuroo looked back at the bakery, seeing you and your boyfriend sitting at the table you and Kuroo always would.

He looked down at the small bag you had handed him. He opened it up. A peach scone. Kuroo chuckled. He had mentioned to you once that the peach scone was the last one at the bakery he had yet to try. He took a bite of the pastry. He sighed. He was sure it would taste better if he were sharing it with you.

~

During the weeks that followed, all Kuroo heard about was you and your boyfriend. How your boyfriend wouldn’t answer your texts. How he would go out partying without you. How he made you mad in every possible way.

Kuroo laid in the grass of his lawn next to you. You were word vomiting every possible pet peeve that you had towards your boyfriend. Kuroo listened, knowing he would be a much better fit for you.

“...what do you think?” You finished off your rant. Kuroo turned to look at you.

“Your boyfriend made you mad the other day, and you’re asking what I think? Well he was being mean at that part...but I’m sure he’s gonna turn around at some point…”

“Tetsu I’m serious. How do I fix this?”

“You break up with him.”

You sat up, crossing your arms as you looked at Kuroo.

“I’m not doing that.”

Kuroo sat up as well, annoyed now.

“Why the hell not? Your boyfriend’s a bitch Y/N.”

“Kuroo-”

“He’s a total jackass and doesn’t deserve you one bit! Why do you stay with him!?” Kuroo was visibly upset, raising his voice slightly to get his point across.

“Because I-I…”

“See! You can’t even give me a good reason! God damnit Y/N I’m sick of hearing about your boyfriend who is the human embodiment of garbage-”

“-Why are you with him when you could be with me!?”

Kuroo didn’t realize what he had said until after he said it. Your eyes forming tears in the corners.

“Kuroo…”

“I’m not gonna take it back. I’m serious. Y/N I am so in love with you and it kills me to see you with him!”

Kuroo took hold of your hand.

“I’m not trying to get into the way of whatever two of you have because if you truly love him then who am I to get in the way? Cause that shit happens once in a lifetime but you are my once in a lifetime Y/N. So please, if it weren’t for him please tell me it would be me.”

Your tears poured down your face. You couldn’t give Kuroo the answer he wanted.

“I-I do love h-him…”

“Do you really? Or do you just not love me?” pleaded Kuroo.

“Kuroo of course I love you-”

“Y/N do you love me in the way I want you to?”

Kuroo honestly didn’t want the answer. You honestly didn’t want to give it to him. You kinda loved him back but not really. Not in the way he wants.

“No…”

The sound of your voice saying ‘no’ became an echo in Kuroo’s brain. He wasn’t sure what was worse: you loving him and staying in your relationship or you not loving him at all.

“Okay.”

Kuroo crossed his arms and laid back down on the grass. He sniffled, holding back any tears. You put your hand on his arm.

“Kuroo I’m sorry-”

“It's fine Y/N. I should’ve known better.”

Kuroo Tetsurou didn’t stop loving you that day. He simply couldn’t. He would love you for a lifetime, even if you didn’t love him. Maybe one day you would change your mind, but not today.

•

[general taglist (form in masterlist) : @lealofsblog @iwaisa @bakugousmymassa @evivn1 @tetsoleil @bokutory @vangoghmusings @moonlightaangel @complimentaryhugsgirl @marajillana @sopesmin @alaina-rose13 @shotoful ]

[1d-fics]

1. Gods & Monsters - velvetoscar

The instructions were simple: seduce and destroy Harry Styles. Not once did they discuss the option of Louis actually falling in love. So, naturally, that's exactly what he did.

2. Have Faith in Me - stylinsoncity

As the son of Anne Styles, millionaire owner of one of the world's most luxurious fashion labels, Harry has spent his last seventeen years living in carefree extravagance. And now he's grown tired of it, along with the pressure from his mum to follow in her footsteps and the constant care given to him by her past assistants.

When his mum's newest assistant, Louis, moves into the guesthouse, Harry determines to be treated differently. To be treated like an adult. Except Louis is not at all what Harry was expecting...

This is a story about growing up, growing in love and having the faith to make it last.

3. Take My Breath Away - realitybetterthanfiction

There is a prestigious school in the British Royal Navy classified as Premier Delta - or as it is known by its flyers, 1D. These select pilots are an elite set of Naval lieutenants who are trained in the skill of aggressive aerial combat. They are instruments of war, trained in times of peace. They are dogfighters, relentless and fearless in their mission to protect their beloved country. From their lofty vantage, they are always watching, waiting, and ready to lay it all on the line.

Lt. Harry Styles, call sign Sparrow, is a prodigy when it comes to flying. The owner of an unrivaled Naval pedigree, being a pilot was always written in the stars for Harry. With his trusty RIO, Lt. Niall Horan, Harry has made an unprecedented ascension in the ranks of the Naval aerial combat elite, and has been recruited to the esteemed Premier Delta flight school, carrying on his family’s legacy. What he finds there are unexpected friendships, perilous challenges, and something beyond what he ever thought possible. Because as his father had always told him, before the great Captain Styles went tragically missing in combat, you don’t fall in love with the sky, you fall in love with what keeps you on the ground.

4. The Wonderlands - stylinsoncity

"Somewhere between chaos and control — these are the wonderlands."

Harry's daughter, Andy, is signed to Louis' girl band. Her path to success is marked by competition, chaos, and for Harry, a love affair.

5. Pray for Some Sweet Simplicity - delsicle

Louis is the only omega to ever make it in the cut-throat world of competitive motorcycle racing—that is, he would be if anyone actually knew about his identity. Now, his sights are set towards competing in—and winning—the European Grand Prix, the biggest and most difficult race of the entire year, so he can disappear underground for good. He’s close enough, too, until an alpha sports journalist is assigned to follow Louis’s every move as he prepares for the event of his career.

Or, an AU where motorcycle racing is the biggest sport in a heavily divided world, Louis is trying to take control of his own destiny, and Harry is in for more than he bargained for.

6.Up to No Good - whoknows

Harry doesn’t think of himself as a womanizer, not at all. Sure, he enjoys sex, enjoys how women feel underneath him, and by some people’s standards he has sex with quite a lot of people, but that’s no reason to tell him that he can’t have a female PA anymore.

It’s especially no excuse for giving him a male PA who’s possibly the most gorgeous boy in the world who won’t even let Harry look at him for too long.

Sometimes Harry hates his life.

7. Another Day Gettin’ into Trouble - whoknows

Harry’s drunk when the idea occurs to him. He’s also a pop star, so sometimes his drunk ideas turn into actual things instead of just ideas. The clone-a-willy kit is one of them.

In Harry’s defense, when he first thinks about it his intention is just to buy the kit and give it to Louis to make his own dildo with, because that’s what he wants anyway, right? To have a penis filling him up?

Then he realizes that it would be weird if Louis made a copy of his own dick to fuck himself with. It’d be super weird. Louis fucking himself? That’s a weird idea. Harry’s pretty sure Louis wouldn’t like that.

Clearly the only solution here is to use his own dick for the mold.

8. Peaches and Cream - seducedbycurls

The study was to see if two strangers could live together for a month and fall in love.

“We are a new organization working to prove that love can do extraordinary things.” “You will do everything together & you are not allowed to leave the resort for the whole month.” “We want to prove that opposites attract.”

Louis is allergic to peaches, Harry smells like peaches. Louis just came for the money.

9. Just a Walk in the Park - comingbackhometoyou

It's 2015, the first time dinosaurs walked the earth in over 65 million years. The multi-billion dollar company, Twist Corporations, is planning a summer opening for their world changing attraction, "Jurassic Park".

They take an interest in the history making duo of Dr. Louis Tomlinson, a stubborn paleontologist, and his partner, paleobotanist Dr. Liam Payne, giving them the chance of a lifetime to work for the new theme park. Louis is apprehensive, but Liam has a "gut feeling" that it will change their lives. He isn't wrong.

Featuring Niall as the top engineer to get the park up and running, Zayn as the raptor expert, and Harry as the grandson of one of the most influential men in the world.

[thatringboy]

Numbers

Word Count: 855

Characters: Paimon (mentioned), Aether, Beidou, Kazuha

Warnings: Mentions of nightmares, Angst

Summary: Kazuha scores his nightmares on a scale of 1-10, but Aether sees right through him

On their first night aboard the Alcor, Aether sent Paimon to bed after letting her eat her full of pork rines and chicken skewers. In her absence, the Traveler walked along the dark deck of the grand flagship with Captain Beidou.

“How far will you take us to Inazuma?” He could barely see the twinkling lights of Liyue in the distance.

Beidou took a swig from a bottle she was holding and followed his gaze. “All the way, but we won’t stay for more than a few hours. That’s why I had my crew stock up on so much supplies for the round trip.”

Aether nodded, the scent of the salty sea calming his nerves. “Are you sure I can’t pay you for the trip?”

“Nah,” she set the bottle down on a stray crate and leaned against the ship’s railing. “I already get paid a bit by the Resistance and the Qixing for getting people back to the mainland. Think nothing of it.”

The Traveler nodded and looked up at the stars. Once upon a time, a short man from Inazuma had claimed that the stars were an illusion, but being out on the open sea and seeing the vast canvas that was the night sky disproved that theory. How could something so beautiful be a farce?

Then his mind wondered if that man would be waiting for him at his destination. Would the Fatui Harbinger fight him? Would he support Baal or the Resistance? Would La Signora be there too?

Beidou caught the troubled expression on his face and opened her mouth to ask about it, but a tiny shout from below deck drew her attention. The two dashed down staircases and ladders until the Captain pushed open the doors to a bedroom.

Sitting upright in a hammock and clutching something to his chest was Kazuha, his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat and his eyes staring at his blanketed feet like they held the answers to the universe.

Beidou snapped him out of his trance with a single worded question. “Number?”

The samurai took a deep breath. “Six—no seven.”

The Captain gave him a sad smile as he turned his head and noticed that Aether stood in the doorway. “Oh, Traveler, I didn’t see you there. Apologies if I startled you.”

Aether could see that the object in his hand was the masterless Vision he had been trying to find a new home for. “Are you alright?”

Kazuha nodded. “Yes, sometimes my mind is plagued with troubling images and the demons of my past love to bare their teeth, but I’m fine.”

Beidou frowned. “But you said this one was a seven. Want me to stay?”

“Seven? What does that mean?” Aether looked between them.

Kazuha slipped the Vision under his pillow. “My nightmares have become so frequent that the Captain has begun keeping track of their intensity on a scale of one to ten. If it is above a five, she stays until I have calmed down. Above a seven and she waits until I have fallen asleep again. And as you can see, I have calmed down so the two of you can return to what you were doing.”

The Captain shrugged and left it at that, but Aether hung back with a stubborn expression. Kazuha pushed his hair out of his face and stared at him. “Can I help you?”

His face turned soft and sad, his golden eyes swirling with recognition and sympathy. “You lied to her, didn’t you.”

It wasn’t a question but more of a statement of facts. The samurai looked away. “How could you tell?”

Aether located a wooden stool and sat down next to the hammock. “Because I get the nightmares too. And each and every one of them is easily a ten.”

Kazuha knew that Aether was on the search for his sister along with his quest to meet all Seven Archons, but when the Traveler had mentioned Lumine, he held only the faintest hint of fondness in his voice. Now the Outlander’s voice was filled with melancholy and nostalgia.

“Does it ever get easier?” He asked.

In Aether’s silence, Kazuha began to wonder if his words were confusing, but the Traveler eventually spoke up.

“The pain of losing someone never goes away, it just becomes easier to manage, I suppose. I’m lucky to have a lifeline with Paimon and my other friends, but there are times where I dream of when Lumine and I would travel worlds together and that feels like a million lifetimes ago. Recently, the nightmares have stopped, but I still remember what they felt like.”

Kazuha stared at his blanket with a dry smile. “Well, aren’t we two petals on a peach blossom.”

Aether chuckled and stood up. “Feeling better?”

“Just a little, but talking helps. Thank you, Traveler.”

The Outlander smiled. “No problem. Get some sleep and we can talk more in the morning if you want.” He moved towards the door. “Goodnight, Kazuha.”

“Goodnight, Aether.” The samurai slid back down into his hammock and waited for the door to be shut before closing his eyes.