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#pine one
its-stimsca · 7 months
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Why do tik tokers use so many cuts I just wanna make a smooth gif why are u like this
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myfriendthecouch · 2 years
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zosanbrainrot · 5 months
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this is how I see them
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shatouto · 5 months
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両片思い
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betaminshitto · 5 months
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Healing my soul...and also tearing it apart
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tiredjust1 · 5 months
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Got this idea at 1 AM
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alpacacare-archive · 7 months
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day twoe ah haha
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semisolidmind · 2 months
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Does DogDay have romantic feelings for your sona or is it more platonic? The way you draw him I wouldnt mind if it was the first- 👀
(theyre not a sona, just a standard y/n insert. im not much of a self shipper. the y/ns are their own characters in a way)
and as far as feelings go…
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there’s affection on both sides...but perhaps something more from our favorite dog.
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honnelander · 8 months
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tart
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HERE WE GO EVERYONE. the long awaited jealous!Sanji fic!! AKA a prequel to the main go fish! storyline!! this fic takes place before the main events in go fish! but after they met at the Baratie. and don't worry, part 3 for the main series will be on the way. enjoy!! request: i was wondering if you’d consider making a lil imagine/blurb about sanji being jealous of someone flirting with the reader? like imagine zoro and the reader just talking and then zoro suddenly leans closer and whispers to her “it seems we’ve got an audience” or smth like that
WARNINGS: none
word count: 3.7k
pairing: jealous opla!sanji x fem!reader
summary: Sanji watches Zoro and reader talk and gets jealous. Nami tries to calm him down but fails.
go fish! series: part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 masterlist
taglist: @mischiefmanaged71 @smolracoon25 @smol-book-nerd @shuujin @amanda08319 @nimtano @your-platonic-gay-lover @lovelymrvl @whiskeypowder @jovialcat123 @nimtano @xtigerlily @shadowwolf1864 @quixscentsposts @guidingstarsstuff @ateliefloresdaprimavera
“Reading that garbage again?” a voice called out. 
At hearing the question, you glanced up from your well-worn copy of Pride and Prejudice, your favorite book, only to see a calm Zoro casually stroll over to you with a hint of amusement on his face.  
You playfully rolled your eyes. “Don’t knock it till you try it, oh great sword master,” you playfully jabbed as you shook out the book to him as he leaned his back against the ship’s front railing, resting his elbows on top of it. “The almighty Zoro isn’t allergic to reading, is he?” 
Zoro snorted, glancing down at your cross-legged position on top of a crate before returning his sights to the Going Merry’s deck and the open ocean. “Yeah, I am allergic,” he agreed. “Allergic to reading that monstrosity you call a book.” 
“Ooo, ‘monstrosity’. That’s a mighty big word for a non-reader like yourself, Zoro. Good job,” you teased as you marked your page before closing the book and joining your friend in looking across the deck and out towards the ocean. 
The green-haired swordsman crossed his arms. “I read.” 
“Mmhm,” you hummed, not convinced. “Sure you do.” 
“I do,” he defended in a gruff voice. 
“Oh yeah? Here, I’ll make it easy for you: tell me about one book you’ve read.” 
Zoro scoffed. “I can tell you about way more than one.” 
You couldn’t help the surprised noise that came out of you. “Oh, yeah? ’More than one’?” you asked with a raised brow and glanced up at your fellow straw hat, trying to wipe off the grin on your face.  
You were certainly surprised that Zoro has read more than one book in his lifetime, but you weren’t surprised that he took your earlier question as a challenge. Classic Zoro, you thought in amusement. The guy could never pass up a challenge, no matter what it was about. 
So, you repositioned yourself on your crate, making yourself comfortable for the discussion ahead. “Alright, come on,” you said and sat up straighter, urging Zoro on, “let’s hear it. Tell me all about them.” 
From the back of the ship, on the upper deck above the kitchen, a certain chef took a long drag on his cigarette as he watched you and his least favorite swordsman be engrossed in conversation. Sanji removed the butt of his cigarette from his mouth with his thumb and index finger, keeping the smoke in his lungs for as long as he could, before slowly exhaling the smoke from his nostrils, his eyes never leaving the two of you. 
“Daaamn, Sanji,” Usopp drawled as he messed with the sails on the ship’s mast nearby, glancing at the chef for a second before returning to his knots. “You look like a smoking dragon. All ferocious and mean. And....extra smokey.” 
Sanji’s gaze didn’t budge, Usopp’s words not fazing the cook in the slightest. “Oh yeah? And what of it knot-boy?” he asked with a slight edge to his words, taking another drag on his cigarette and exhaling through his lips. 
At Sanji’s snarky question, Usopp recoiled and looked back at Sanji more closely with a confused expression. It was rare for Sanji to lose his cool or be in a bad mood for no reason, unless he was going back and forth in an argument with Zoro but even then, the blonde chef usually took those in stride with a smile, much to Zoro’s annoyance, so this was new. 
“Aren’t those things supossed to calm you down?” Usopp asked as he nodded to the cigarette in the cook’s hand. 
“I am calm,” Sanji rebuked a little too quickly to be true.  
Usopp then noticed how intent Sanji’s stare was towards something at the front of the ship and raised an eyebrow. Whatever he was staring at must be pissing him off because the chef’s gaze looked absolutely lethal. What the hell could be making him so mad? Usopp followed Sanji’s gaze, looked towards the front of the ship, and saw....y/n and Zoro talking? 
To Usopp, it looked like they were just having a normal conversation, but when he saw y/n laugh at something Zoro said, hitting his arm with a grin and Zoro having a slight smile, he heard Sanji scoff loudly in disgust and mutter something under his breath. 
And in that moment, it dawned on Usopp what was up, and it was hard for him to contain his shit eating grin: Sanji was jealous. Sanji was jealous of y/n and Zoro. To Usopp, it looked like a completely normal conversation between friends since he knew of y/n’s affections for the blonde cook. But to Sanji? It probably seemed like a complete flirt fest, and he was jealous. 
Up until this point Usopp had thought y/n’s crush was only one sided. Sure, he’s had his suspicions ever since Sanji seemed to stare at y/n more often than not, but Usopp was still just a guy at the end of the day, so he never considered if Sanji might actually have feelings for y/n too.  
But now? Oh boy- Usopp was all caught up to speed and he couldn’t wait to meddle in their budding relationship and tease the heck out of them both for it (when the time was right, of course).  
Usopp looked back over at Sanji and wiped off his grin as best he could. “You say somethin’ Sanji?” he asked innocently, knowing damn well the chef said absolutely nothing. “I thought I heard you mutter something.” 
Sanji flicked the ashes off his cigarette. “No.” 
“Oh. Must just be the wind then...” 
Suddenly, y/n’s laughter could be heard from the ship’s front and Sanji nearly snarled in disgust and shook his head. “What the-” Sanji started but let out an exasperated sigh. “He’s not even funny,” Sanji complained before taking another hit on his cigarette. 
Usopp couldn’t help himself, he had to poke the bear. “Who, Zoro? I think he’s funny.” 
The blonde chef let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, funny looking.” 
He also had to twist the knife. “Well, y/n seems to think he’s funny.”  
Sanji chuckled to himself and stayed quiet for a moment, contemplating Usopp’s words. “You know what? It doesn’t matter,” he muttered and took one last drag of his cigarette before putting it out and immediately lighting up a fresh one. 
Unbeknown to the cook and slingshot fighter, standing underneath them and near the tangerine trees was the Going Merry’s orange-haired navigator, who had heard their whole conversation. 
------------- ----- 
“Zoro!” You laughed loudly and hit your crewmate on his bicep. “Reading books on how to dismember your opponents doesn’t count as real reading!” 
A ghost of a smile appeared on Zoro’s face as he raised an eyebrow at you. “Says you. Can you tell me fifty different ways on how to cut up a body? No? I didn’t think so.” 
“Fair enough,” you relented good naturedly with a small laugh as you shook your head. “Remind me to never get on your bad side.” 
A comfortable silence fell over you both as you let out a small sigh, watching the waves crash. 
After a few quiet beats, however, you felt Zoro lean into your personal space as he lowly murmured, “Don’t look now, but it seems like we have an audience.” 
You blinked in confusion as your eyebrows pulled together. “What? An audience? Where?” Completely disregarding Zoro’s instructions, you immediately started looking around the ship. “Watching what?” 
“Us,” Zoro said simply and returned to his full height. 
You shook your head in disbelief. “What? Us? Now who would be watching-” you started to say but the rest of your sentence died in your throat when you saw piercing blue eyes staring right you both. “...us?” you finished slowly.  
Sanji? Sanji was your audience? But- why? What? You were so confused. Even from this far away, you could tell something was off with him. His posture was stiff and the usual smile that adorned his features whenever he saw you was nowhere to be seen.  
“When did he get here? I didn’t know he was on deck...” you trailed off, about to move to hop off the crate and make your way over to Sanji to see what the matter with him was when something stopped you.  
Before you could hop off the crate, you saw Sanji put out his cigarette and make his way off the deck and head down into the kitchen, not sparing you another glance. As you made your way across the deck, about to follow him into the kitchen, Usopp quickly called out to you from up on the ship’s mast, asking for your help with knot tying since ‘yours were so much better than his’. You agreed with a small sigh, not wanting Usopp to struggle by himself, so you made your way to the mast and started climbing, but not before sparing the entryway to the kitchen one last glance. 
Meanwhile in the kitchen, Sanji flittered around, grabbing random ingredients he saw at first glance. Mushrooms? Grabbed. A block of cheese? Sure. Corn? Ok. Tomatoes? Sure, whatever. 
As he looked down at the growing pile of ingredients on the counter, he stopped for a second to examine the pile, putting his hands in his pockets. What the hell was he supposed to make out of this? He didn’t know. He couldn’t think straight, and it was bothering the absolute hell out of him. The kitchen had always been his sanctuary, a place where he could always rely on to decompress and escape from his thoughts as he got swept away in the act of cooking that came so naturally to him. Usually. 
But today? His natural instincts weren’t there. He felt his chef’s mind drawing up a blank on how to mix all of these items together and the longer he stood there, the more ticked off he became. On a normal day, he’d have thought up of 15 different dishes he could make and already have been busy at work making one of those ideas come to life. But now? There was nothing. No ideas swirling around in his head, nothing.  
He could feel his face twist up in irritation the longer he was standing there until finally, he let out a short, brusque sigh, muttering, “Now what the fuck am I supposed to do with all this?” 
“You’re the chef, aren’t you supposed to figure that out or something?” 
The blonde chef glanced up from the pile and saw Nami casually strolling in from the deck and up to the counter opposite of him, hands clasped behind her back, with a curious eyebrow raised.  
Instantly, to cover up his sour mood, the cook plastered on a fake smile. “Well, it seems my mind is a little blank at the moment, Darling. Why don’t you come over here and help me come up with an idea or two?” he offered with a wink, taking his hands out to lean against the counter. 
But Nami saw right through him. “I’m good, thanks,” she declined bluntly. Nami wasn’t sure when she had become the Going Merry’s pseudo-therapist, especially since this crew hadn't been together for more than 3 months at this point, but someone had to be, and she figured the only way to get Sanji to talk right now would be if he was doing something he loved: cooking. “Actually,” she started offhandedly, “I have a request for you.” 
Now that immediately got the cook’s attention. “Oh?” he asked with a raised brow, straightening up as he dropped the fake flirty persona. 
“Yeah,” she said aloud, sounding more like she was trying to convince herself that she actually had a request for the cook. From behind her back, she pulled out a couple of tangerines. With a slight smile and raised brow, she said matter-of-factly, “If I remember correctly, I believe I was told I could ask for a tangerine tart anytime I’d like?” 
A genuine smile came across Sanji’s face at that, his eyes crinkling at the corners, as he laughed with a nod. “The Madam is correct.” He took the fruits from Nami’s hands and placed them on the counter, pushing away his bizarre pile of ingredients to make room. “One tangerine tart coming right up,” he said and started bustling around the kitchen with purpose this time, pulling out the necessary ingredients, a far cry from his movements a couple of minutes ago. 
Seeing Sanji occupied, Nami took a seat at the table, sitting where she had left her charting journal and reading glasses from breakfast that morning. She opened her journal back up and put her glasses on, flipping through the pages and resuming her sketch of her latest map.  
Both of them worked in silence for a few minutes, both engrossed in their respective activities until Nami broke it. Before speaking, she snuck a glance at the chef, making sure he was preoccupied before she started prodding and sure enough, he was. Perfect. 
“You know, I never told anyone this before,” Nami started, laying the groundwork for Sanji to open up, creating a tit for tat sort of thing, “but I actually love tangerine tarts.” 
Sanji huffed slightly with a slight smile, not looking up from his work. “Oh yeah? Well, be prepared to fall in love with them all over again.” He started pouring heavy cream into a separate bowl, adding sugar before whisking it all together. “Even Zeff used to say I made a mean tangerine tart.” 
Nami hummed. “Maybe you can make Zoro fall in love with them too,” she said casually, sneaking a quick look at Sanji, only to see him press his lips together in a firm line and start to whisk the cream harder at the mention of the swordsman. “Or y/n,” she added quickly. “I don’t think she’s ever had one either.” 
At the mention of you, Sanji’s face and motions relaxed slightly. “Yeah,” he agreed. “I...think you’re right about that.” 
The orange-haired girl rotated her journal ninety degrees. She decided to prod a little harder. “I think I saw them talking earlier.” 
Sanji simply hummed in agreement, cracking eggs into a bowl, staying silent. With the third egg, however, he cracked it a little too hard on the counter, causing the raw egg contents to splatter everywhere and onto his black blazer.  
“Ah- fucking hell,” he muttered in disgust, throwing the broken eggshell into the trash before cleaning his hands off in the sink. 
Nami looked up from her work and quirked an eyebrow at her crewmate. “You good?” 
The blonde cook shook his head once with a sardonic smile. “Never better,” he quipped. 
Ok, she couldn’t do this dance anymore. Nami closed her journal and took off her glasses, looking straight at him. “Alright, you want to tell me what the hell is going on? You’re acting weird, even for you.” Sanji opened his mouth to protest but Nami spoke before he could. “And don’t lie to me.” 
Mouth still open, Sanji exhaled slowly and deflated. “I- I’m fine.” 
She rolled her eyes. “Sanji-” 
Upon hearing his name, Sanji blinked and raised his eyebrows in surprise. Nami rarely called him by his name.  
“Cut the bullshit,” she continued. “I heard your conversation with Usopp and you certainly didn’t sound ‘fine’.” 
Sanji was caught red-handed. With what exactly? He didn’t really know but he did know he was caught in a lie because he definitely did not feel fine. He shrugged his shoulders, at a loss for words. “I...” he sighed and took off his ruined blazer, draping it over the back of an empty chair, rolling up his sleeves as he avoided Nami’s expectant stare. He grabbed a dirty rag and started cleaning the egg off the counter. “I don’t know...” 
“Sanji, you can barely crack an egg.” 
That brought out a short bark of laughter from the chef. “Yeah,” he relented. “Obviously.” 
“Is this because of your jealously over y/n and Zoro?” 
“My- my what? My jealously?” he sputtered and scoffed, still not looking Nami in the eye. “I, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why on earth would I be jealous over that stick in the mud?” 
“Oh, I don’t know,” Nami played along, tapping her temple, pretending she was deep in thought. “Maybe because you saw and heard them laughing from all the way across the ship?” she pointed out. When Sanji tried to wave off her accusations with an unconvincing smile, Nami decided to just go in for the kill. If Sanji wasn’t going to admit his obvious liking towards her female crewmate and friend himself, then she’d have to do it for him. “Maybe....maybe because you might have a little crush on y/n?” she offered with a raised brow, staring right at him. 
“Wh-what?? A crush?” Sanji quickly rebuked, jerking his head back. “What are we? Little kids?” 
From her spot at the table, Nami could swear she saw a faint dusting of pink appear on his cheeks. She smirked to herself. She got him. “Well,” she shrugged, “it doesn’t matter how old we get, we all get crushes from time to time.” 
You? A crush? Sanji shook his head as he resumed making the tangerine tart. Labeling whatever feelings he had for you as simply a ‘juvenile crush’ didn’t feel right to him. You were more than that, and you didn’t deserve to be labeled as such. “No, she’s not a crush.” 
“Oh, so you like-like her?” Nami said like it was obvious. “You like her as more than just a friend.” 
“I-” Sanji started but stopped himself and sighed, feeling his irritation grow the longer this conversation went on. Now even the kitchen wasn’t bringing him peace? First, smoking and now this? What was next? “Why does it matter? All of a sudden, my love life is interesting to you and up for debate? I don’t remember asking for your opinion.” 
Nami watched his jaw tense and his body become stiff as he started zesting the tangerines. Clearly whatever feelings Sanji was dealing with, he wasn’t ready to openly talk about them, so she decided to back off.
She put her hands up in surrender, slumping back in her chair as she said, “Hey, I’m...I’m sorry. You’re right.” Deciding to give the chef his space, she gathered her belongings and stood up, making her way to the counter. “If you ever need to...talk or anything, I’m here,” she offered quietly. In a normal tone, she added, “Let me know when the tarts are ready. I really do want y/n and Zoro to try one.” 
Speaking of the devil, you came into the kitchen from the deck, eyes lighting up at the sight of Sanji cooking. Seeing Sanji cook was one of your favorite things and you always loved to guess what he was making. “Sanji! Ooo, what are you making?” 
Nami watched as Sanji’s whole demeanor change at the sight of you, like a switch being flipped on. She couldn’t help but smile knowingly between you both. “I’ll be in my room,” she announced before making her way out of the kitchen, leaving you both alone. 
Sanji had a wide smile, shoulders relaxing as his eyes lit up. “Why don’t you guess? Give it your best shot.” 
“Oh! I love this game. Ok, let’s see,” you said as you surveyed the ingredients laid out before you. “I see flour, sugar, butter and tangerines...are you making a tangerine cake or something?” 
Whatever jealousy or anger he had been feeling all day just instantly disappeared once he was with you. He felt like himself again, all carefree and lighthearted as he chuckled at your guess. “Not quite, Missus. But nice try,” he said as he looked into your eyes with a crooked smile. 
Missus. You felt your heart skip a beat at the nickname and you felt your insides became all warm. You hoped your face didn’t give away your swooning. He's never called you that before and you hoped to God that he would never stop. 
“Ah, my bad,” you laughed embarrassedly. “What are you making then?” 
“I, am making a tangerine tart,” he proudly stated as he grabbed another egg, perfectly cracking it this time. “At the request of the ship’s navigator.” 
A wide grin broke out across your face. “No way!!” you squealed eagerly, causing Sanji to laugh. “I’ve always wanted to try one!”  
The blonde chef nodded. “Yes, she did mention that actually.” After a beat, he added, “I hope you like it.” 
“Of course I will,” you said without hesitation. “I know I haven’t known you for that long, but it seems like everything you make is phenomenal. You’re the best cook I know.” 
Normally, nearly everyone compliments his cooking (except for Zoro) and he never really thought anything of it. He knew was the best cook in the East Blue and someday, the whole world when he found the All Blue. But hearing that compliment from you? How you said it so easily and with such certainty? He felt a funny, warm feeling deep within his chest and when he looked at you, just like how you knew for certain that he was the best chef around, he knew right then that you really were the most beautiful woman he’s ever known. 
So, yeah. Nami was right. He guessed he did have a little crush on you, or ‘like-liked’ you- whatever she was saying.  
“Do you mind if I watch?” 
Your question broke the little staring trance he was in, blinking and tearing his gaze away from you as he tried to refocus on the task before him. He truly had to make sure this was the best tart he’s ever made. 
He nodded, perhaps a little too eagerly. God, he was probably acting like an excited puppy, but he couldn’t help himself. “Of course you can,” he agreed with a small smile. 
As you pulled up a stool to sit on the opposite side of the counter, Sanji realized something: him cooking in the kitchen with you sitting nearby? That’s something he could get used to and get used to very quickly. 
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onenicebugperday · 3 months
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Pine emperor, Nudaurelia cytherea, Saturniidae
Found in southern Africa
Photos 1-3 and 5 by magrietb and photo 4 by meldem
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hairmetal666 · 9 months
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Steve has this bar he loves in Chicago. It's a little bit dive-y, a little bit dirty, but it's quiet. A good place for when he needs to clear his head.
Only, tonight, the place is packed. Music pounding from the jukebox, no space at the bar, patrons at the dartboard and pool table. In three years he's never seen it like this.
He has a second to wonder what's going on before he sees exactly who is going on, and for him to catch Steve looking.
"Stevie!" Eddie Munson cries. He leaps from the bar top, the people below scrambling away from the stomp of his big black boots.
He hasn't seen Eddie in years. Can't actually remember the last time. Max and Lucas's wedding? Robin and Nancy's baby shower?
Steve considers booking it out of there, escaping in the crush of the crowd. By the time he has the thought, though, Eddie's already pulling him into a hug.
He's excited to see his friend. He is! Really. He loves Eddie. But that's kind of the problem.
Steve fell in love and Eddie left town.
Well, maybe it wasn't so dramatic as all that. It wasn't until six months after they packed the last box in the back of Eddie's van that Steve could name his feelings for what they were. And by then, Corroded Coffin were building buzz and Eddie had a huge whole life outside of the people he saved the world with.
Over the years, as Eddie's fame grew, he came around less and now they hardly see each other. They still talk from time to time, Steve still buys all the band's records, and Eddie's still close with all the kids, Nancy and Robin too.
Eddie releases him, those big eyes bright, a pure and genuine smile stretching his face. Steve's stomach twists, heart skipping a beat.
"Gotta be honest with you, man. Never expected to see Steve Harrington in a place like this."
Steve snorts. "There's lots of place I go you wouldn't expect."
Eddie's smile wobbles, Steve thinks. It's gone in a blink, though, and Eddie laughs. "I'm sure you do, sweetheart. Have time for a drink with me?"
Eddie navigates to the bar, returns with two beers in hand. He presses his palm to the small of Steve's back, directing him to the single empty table in the corner as far from the jukebox as possible.
"How's life treating you, Stevie?" Eddie asks after a sip. "Nance told me the store is doing really well."
"It's good, yeah. Finally turning a profit. Wasn't sure about Dustin having us add a game section, but he was right. It's really taken off."
"Oh, he told me," Eddie smirks.
Steve rolls his eyes. "I'm sure that he did. He hasn't let me hear the end of it."
"That tone," Eddie says, voice soft.
"What brings you to Chicago?" He asks to hide the way all the fucking love he feels for this man is bleeding out of him.
"Not really supposed to be," he laughs. "Flight got diverted to O'Hare, can't get another one until tomorrow. Have to make it to LA in time to play a show."
They both know Eddie loves it; the rush, the adrenaline, that comes with performing, to making it to shows at the very last minute. It's how they got here in the first place.
"Working on new music?"
Eddie leans back, dimples popping with the pleased lift of his lips. "Oh, Harrington, you don't even know what we have in store." He leans over the table and launches into tales of rehearsals and writing. Steve drinks his beer and can't take his eyes off his friend, Eddie the sun Steve orbits around, helpless to his gravitational pull.
"So, Stevie," Eddie says, once there's no more to tell about music. "You seeing anyone?"
Steve hides his cringe with a chuckle. Picks up his beer to buy time and finds it empty. "Not anyone of note."
"C'mon, how is that possible? You're easily the hottest guy in this place."
He grimaces. "That's a low bar."
"Oooh, still bitchy after all these years." Eddie snickers, takes a swig from his bottle.
"Shut-up."
"Seems like it's been a while since you dated."
"You interrogating my love life now, Munson?"
"No, not at all. Just curious."
"Okay, who are you dating? Still that guy from People?"
"Gossip," Eddie frowns.
"Anyone else you got your eye on?"
"No one new," Eddie says. He stares at Steve hard for a second, like he wants to dig into his brain, like it holds the answer to all life's question.
"There is someone, then." Steve tries to ignore the jealousy licking down his spine. Eddie isn't his and never will be.
Eddie picks at the label on his now empty beer. "Not--not really." He licks his lips, leaning over the table again. "Is there a reason you don't seem to date anymore, man? It's just--you wouldn't hurt for options, right?"
Steve freezes, trying to figure out a way to answer that won't end up breaking his own heart. "Ah, it's--you know, things got busy with opening the store and everything. Stopped being a priority."
"Are you lonely?"
"Are you?" He snaps before he can stop himself. "Sorry, I'm--sorry."
"Yeah, man. I'm lonely as hell." Eddie answers as though Steve didn't give him an out.
"I--you ever have someone where the timing is always wrong?"
"Think it's a hazard of my profession. Who's yours?"
"What?" Steve clunks his bottle too hard against the table.
"The one that got away?"
"It's--it--I--it doesn't matter."
Eddie's smile is all jagged edges. "Nancy?"
"God, no. Nance and I are good with being friends. No lingering feelings there. Who's yours?"
"Ahh," Eddie sits back a little, eyes glittering with an emotion Steve can't place. "The best boy I ever met. Can't get over him, can't forget him. I think they guys are going to start banning my 'pathetic gay yearning songs'. Gareth's words."
Something in Steve's chest crumbles to dust. There's someone. Has always been someone. Of course. Eddie is beautiful and hot and charismatic and fucking famous. And Steve is--just a guy who runs a struggling bookstore with a couple of his best friends.
"That's--I'm sorry it didn't work out." He's trying to stop his voice from breaking, from giving Eddie any hint of what he's feeling, just knows he has to get out. "Listen, man, thanks for the beer. Great to catch up. You should hit up Robin and Nancy the next time you're in town. I gotta get going."
"Wait, Steve--"
"See you around."
He doesn't wait. He pushes through the people, and races out the door, into the crisp Chicago fall air. He squeezes his eyes closed, practices his breathing exercises, tries to relax the clench of his teeth, ease the screaming in his lungs.
Three steps away from the building is as far as he gets before he hears, "Steve, please wait." A hand catches his hip, holding him in place.
"Eddie, I don't--"
"It's you," Eddie says. His face is pale, stricken. "You're the one who got away, Steve."
"What?"
"I've never been able to work up the nerve to confess. I've been trying for years, but. Too afraid of losing you to tell the truth."
"Years?" Steve's brain is trying to wrap around what's happening. That Eddie has feelings for him? That he's the source of the pathetic gay yearning?
"God, since 1986, at least."
Steve doesn't know what to say; what to do. He's been waiting for this moment so long, and his brain goes on pause.
"It's okay if you don't feel the same," Eddie rambles. "Hell, I'd be surprised if you did, but--"
"You're mine too," the words tumble out.
"What?"
"You're the one who got away. For me. You're mine."
"Steve," Eddie breathes. "Is this--are you serious?"
"Pathetic gay yearning and all."
Eddie's laugh is a bright spot in the darkness, relief and happiness mixed with the hope of what's next.
Steve can't help but giggle. "We're so dumb," he says.
Eddie looks at him with a raised eyebrow before bursting into giggles of his own. "So dumb, Steve, oh my god."
"It's been a decade!"
"Fuck," Eddie cackles.
They collapse against each other, chests heaving with their mirth. As they catch their breath, Steve nuzzles against Eddie's neck, relishing the closeness. It's easy for him to change the angle so their lips meet in a kiss frantic with ten years of longing.
"Your place or mine?" Eddie asks once they part.
Steve laughs. "You think I'm that easy, Munson?"
"Oh, Steve," Eddie smirks. "I know it."
"Asshole." Steve presses a kiss to his jaw. "How many songs did you write about me?"
Eddie smiles so hard his dimples pop. "All of them, baby. Every single one."
Steve rests their foreheads together, body fizzing like freshly uncorked champagne, "Take me home, Ed."
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ryllen · 1 month
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no, but pinecones is really beautiful isn't it ?
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ama-a93 · 8 months
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do u think this is when the crush started
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artsymeeshee · 3 months
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pileofmush · 7 months
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luffy is for the sad, pathetic, touch-starved bitches. the ones who shiver at the mere brush of skin. who wince whenever their friends go in for hugs, unsure of where to put their arms. the ones who are so, so aware of their proximity to others. so careful not to brush fingers when walking side to side with a peer, or when handing a pencil to a friend, because they’re sure that one affectionate squeeze of the arm could leave their innards a puddle at their feet, creeping toward the nearest drain.
when you meet luffy, you think he’s one to be admired, not touched. you see the way he infects everyone around him with his reckless abandon. hanging off shoulders and dragging people to and fro. his crewmates are used to it. they scoff and wiggle under his weight for show: for there’s a sense of relief when monkey d. luffy has his eyes on you. you can tell in the automatic decompression of their shoulders, in the languid way they turn to him—saplings curving toward the sun. 
you see it, and you envy it. respect it. respect him. but that’s the extent of your thoughts on the matter.
you never considered that he would turn his sights on you. 
but he does. 
he picks you up like you’re something shiny, holds you up to the light and squints. and whatever he finds must be satisfying, because after that, he doesn’t put you down. 
it overwhelms you, at first. he tugs on your cheek at the sight of a frown, like you’re the one made of rubber, and your heart does a funny jig that’s actually not funny at all. he pokes you in the ribcage to grab your attention, and ignores you when you try to tell him that a verbal cue would work just as well. he grabs your hand, instinctively twining your fingers, and pulls you along when you stop in your tracks.
and you feel—you feel like a puddle. be careful your mind warns, or you’ll slip.
but luffy’s there to catch you when you fall.
and that’s what’s so terrible about him, you think. he’s the question and the answer. 
and he’s burrowed himself under your skin. 
how foolish of him to touch you so casually and expect you not to revel in it. not to crave his pokes and his prods more than you crave air. how foolish of him to drape himself over you like a weighted blankie and not expect you to desire him by your side, always, to keep the cold at bay. he’s a fool and you’re a pauper.
but, sometimes, you think he knows what he does to you. he has to. oh, how he’ll laugh when he catches you staring at his hands. bound over until he’s right in front of you, place a thumb under your chin and tilt until your gaze meets his. his eyes are dark, but so, so bright. you want to look away. you don’t. 
everything is so easy for him. it's unnerving. he plops his head in your lap one day with a carefree grin. you still—hold your breath like a child playing hide and seek. he cracks open an eye, like he can read your thoughts. or maybe he can just feel you tremble.
“what’s wrong?”
you rack your brain for an answer he could understand. “what do you want me to do?” you hedge. 
luffy furrows his brows. “whatever you want,” he says.
“no, i mean—where do you want me to touch?” 
he shrugs. “wherever you want.”
and you feel—you feel like you want to run your hands over every inch of his skin until you have a mental map of his body you could navigate through touch alone. you want to put him in your mouth. you want to inhale him like a drug, want him to burn the back of your throat 'til it stings. you want… him. 
you settle for caressing his jawline. tracing the slope of his nose. his eyes flutter shut, and you pause, but he grabs your hand and plants it firmly on his face. and it feels, it feels like you’re the question and he’s the answer. it feels like maybe, just maybe, you’re okay with becoming a puddle of a person, for him. 
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abyssalzones · 18 days
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uhmm. swap carpet stuff.
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