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laligraves · 6 months ago

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chp.2 - poolside

morning run series

joel miller x fem!reader

[18+] | wc: ~2.7k summary: Your nap is interrupted by Joel. masterlist | AO3

warnings: HBO Joel, TLOU AU, dubious consent (i'm so serious, don't read if it makes you uncomfortable), NSFW, pre/no outbreak, some proofreading (not enough so sorry for mistakes), Joel is a tall and very strong man, older man/college-aged reader, no use of y/n or too many details on reader's appearance, alcohol consumption, pet names, some degradation, breeding kink (yeah), fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie

a/n: i'm still here <3! just busy with real life :( i don't have a huge plan for this series except to make little one shots here and there since i have a lot of fun with these two characters lol. other stuff on the way i promise <3

You left two days after that encounter with Joel Miller. Your head was still spinning and your pussy still sore, but the semester started and you needed to be back on campus.

The first night back in your dorm, you debated throwing out the roses that now sat on your desk. You lasted 10 minutes just looking at them before you were touching yourself to the memory of him. You could still feel the scratch of his beard on your neck and remember the smell of his cologne.

He’d put his phone number in your contact list and you debated calling him. But what would you even say?

You should be mad at Joel for what he did. Yet somehow, he managed to reach into the deepest corners of your mind and fulfill one of your darkest fantasies.

Now, back in town, you can’t help but feel a little excited to see him again. Even if the more sane part of your brain is trying to convince you to slap him across the face if he comes near.

“Hey, lazy girl,” your sister calls out.

“Hey,” you respond softly, not moving from your spot on the lounge chair.

“I’m leaving. Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“Yeah,” you reply, knowing you’ll probably spend the entire week swimming and sunbathing by the pool.

“I left money on the counter and the keys to my car in case you need it.”

“Okay, mom,” you say sarcastically.

She throws a pool noodle at you and leaves with her friend after that, promising to text you when she reaches her destination. Any other time you’d be disappointed that your sister was leaving for a full week just as you arrived for summer vacation, but she’s been working so much that she deserves a trip.

The stress from the semester leaves your body with each lap around the crisp pool and the warm sun. You go back into the house to make yourself a tequila soda and make your way back out to the chairs underneath the canopy.

A sudden thought pops into your head as you look around the empty backyard. The fences are tall enough and the gate leading to the backyard is locked. Your sister doesn’t have cameras that face this side of the house yet, so there’s really no reason for you to be so nervous.

You’ve never sunbathed in the nude, there’s just never been an opportunity for it. But now, with the house empty and the tequila coursing through your veins, it would be the perfect time to do so.

Before the courage leaves you, you slip off the strings of the bikini and spread out on the lounge chair.

“Absolutely nothing to worry about,” you whisper.

You eventually doze off, moving around until you’re once again face down. A text message from your sister lights up your screen, but at this point you’ve fallen asleep and don’t pay any mind to it.

I forgot to tell you that Joel Miller from down the block is stopping by. He’s going to plant the roses Susan wants, but needs to take a look first. Help him with whatever he needs. Tell him thank you!

You start to dream of Joel massaging sunscreen on your back, trailing his hands over your sides until they land on the soft, plump flesh of your ass.

His hands massage and spread your cheeks open, presenting your asshole and pussy for his eyes. Joel lands a glob of spit right on your little winking star and you flinch slightly.

“It’s okay, babydoll,” he coos.

The tip of his finger circles your asshole just a bit, enough for you to shiver from the sensation.

His fingers trail down to your pussy where he slowly teases a finger up and down your slit, gathering the wetness.

“Joel,” you whimper.

You push back on his hand, overcome with need.

Joel laughs at your desperate attempts to fuck yourself on his hand and moves your thigh to the side, giving him the perfect view of your cunt.

Before you have a chance to complain, he spreads you open and runs his tongue through your folds. Your hands grip the towel and you almost scream in surprise.

At the scrape of his teeth on your inner thigh and the scratch of his beard on your skin, you begin to wake. This isn’t a dream.

“What–”

“‘bout time you woke up,” Joel growls. “Dreamin’ about me, babydoll?”

You lift your head, slightly delirious, still grinding back on his face.

“Joel, whatthefuck–” you whisper, words slurred from sleep.

He tongues your entrance and swipes a finger over your clit, a movement that has you almost seeing stars. Joel ignores your pleas for him to wait, choosing instead to push two large fingers into your pussy. You choke down on your words at the stretch, still confused.

“Can barely fit my fingers in this sweet cunt,” Joel says.

“Wait–” you whimper, “fuck, wait.”

With his fingers still in your pussy, he moves up to lie partially on top of you. He bites your shoulder, neck, runs the tip of his tongue over the shell of your ear.

“No waiting, babydoll. Gotta stretch this tiny hole,”

Vulgar. He’s so nasty with his words, still, your pussy beats with its own heartbeat.

“Joel–”

“All this time waitin’ for you to call me,” Joel hums into your ear, “just used me for my cock, didn’t you? Little slut.”

“No, I didn’t. I–”

“I knock you up?”

You give a tiny, jerky shake of your head, no, unable to form words.

“Guess we’ll have to try again, yeah?” he murmurs in your ear. “Gonna’ fill up this pussy.”

“No—“

You mean to say it with conviction. But your voice wavers, and you cum right into the palm of his hand, soaking him.

You grind down on his hand and bite into the towel to muffle your screams.

“Good girl,” Joel groans, “just love makin’ a mess, don’t cha’?”

Your hands slowly let go of the towel and your body becomes limp. Joel stands from the chair and you hear the clatter of his belt and the soft rustle of his clothes landing on the ground.

Your nap being interrupted by Joel is not something you were expecting. In fact, what is he doing here?

“Joel, what are you–”

His hands reach for your hips and he’s flipping you over on your back, making room for himself between your thighs.

“Needa look at your pretty face and pretty tits while I fuck ‘ya.”

“We can’t–”

Joel’s calloused fingers pinch your hard-tipped nipples and as if your body is already conditioned for him, you push up right into his hands.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” Joel groans.

Before you know what’s happening, Joel leans down to drag his tongue over each peak. He bites, leaving only a hint of pain and shushing your needy whines.

He grinds down between your open thighs, covering his cock in your slick. You moan and writhe on the lounge chair, twisting your hips with each bump of his mushroom head right on your swollen button.

“Joel, please,” you beg.

But you’re not quite sure what you’re begging for. The sane part of your brain tells you to put an end to this, to send Joel far away from you. But then he sucks your nipple into his mouth and your mind goes blank.

Joel keeps biting, sucking, lapping at your tits until you feel the familiar sensation in your lower belly. As if sensing another orgasm, either from your moans or the way you're grinding up on his cock, Joel stops, placing a soft kiss on each nipple before leaning back.

“I needed to taste those tits before I fuck ya’,” Joel rasps.

You tremble beneath him, laying there in a sweaty heap. Joel’s face is slightly flushed and his chest rises with each ragged breath he takes.

Fuck, he’s handsome. Salt and pepper hair, creases around his eyes, a hooked nose and a huge cock make him the most attractive man you’ve ever seen.

The second he releases your hands, you drag your fingers down his hairy chest and over his soft belly. He’s hard and soft, muscular from working outside but with a belly that you want to lay your head on.

He moves your hand away, linking his fingers through one of yours and uses his other hand to bump the tip of his length at your entrance. You try, in a small voice that’s just about surrendered to the lust swirling in your head, to stop Joel, suddenly remembering that this is not your house, but your sister’s.

“Joel, my sister is inside–”

He tsks in disappointment. “She’s gone for the week,” he interrupts, swirling the tip of his cock on your clit, “don’t lie to me, babydoll.”

Your mouth opens to ask how exactly he knows that, but Joel takes that moment to slide right in. A high-pitched squeal claws its way out of your mouth at the stretch of his cock.

Joel groans, sounding almost pained. His eyes shut and his mouth drops open while you fight to push him off of you. You forgot just how large he was, and even if your cunt is slick and this isn’t the first time, it’s still a little painful.

Joel places your hand above your head, still keeping his fingers linked, and uses his other hand to push up your thigh. His nose brushes yours and he gives you a soft kiss.

He rocks his hips slowly, pushing his tongue into your mouth and matching the pace. You don’t kiss him back, too preoccupied with the cock spearing inside of you and the loss of air in your lungs.

“Too much–”, you mumble, “too much!”

Joel moves his lips down your chin, the tip of his tongue dragging a hot path down your neck. Goosebumps erupt on your skin as you try to catch your breath. Each thrust of his hips make you lightheaded.

“No,” Joel murmurs into your neck, “you can take it, babydoll. Take it like a good girl.”

With your free hand you try to push at his hips, for him to just give you a moment to breathe. Joel quickly takes your other hand and places it above your head, locking both of your wrists in his grasp.

Your tits are in Joel’s face, pushed up by the arch of your back. Joel takes full advantage and runs his tongue over your swollen nipples.

You’re not speaking coherently anymore. Between your pleas for him to slow down, please you whine with each hard thrust into your pussy.

“Fuckin’ greedy,” Joel groans, “pussy keeps suckin’ me right back in.”

“You’re so fucking nasty,” you mumble in half-hearted anger.

But he’s right. Your pussy flutters with each slide of his cock and your thighs bracket his hips, keeping him as close as possible.

The thick head of his cock bumps your womb and you’re almost certain he’s growing bigger inside of you. You can smell him, his cologne and sweat, the scent of a man who spends his time working outside with his hands.

If Joel were any other man, you’d hate the smell. But with him, it’s intoxicating.

The first time together was quick, in his front yard where you were forced to stay quiet and take whatever he gave you. Now, your whimpers are loud and he’s in no rush to finish quickly.

“Gonna breed this little cunt,” Joel slurs, “gonna make you a mommy.”

His hips move faster and tears begin to fall from the corner of your eyes. Joel invades your space and kisses every inch of skin he can reach. Imprints of his teeth and his saliva are left on your neck, tits, and mouth.

“You want that babydoll? Wanna make me a daddy?”

Any other man, especially one who is practically a stranger would make you cringe. But Joel’s breeding kink doesn’t phase you. You fall into the fantasy of him cumming inside of you and giving you a baby.

He pushes his tongue almost down your throat while he fucks you. You kiss him back and suck his tongue on instinct. He whimpers, a sound that makes your pussy tighten in response.

“Jesus–,” Joel groans.

“Joel, please,” you whimper, “m–more, please!”

The chair shakes with each of his thrusts, just about able to hold your combined weight. Joel lets go of your hands and leans back to watch his cock slide into you, seemingly mesmerized at the sight.

Your hands reach for his sweaty chest, arms, caressing his heated skin. Joel pushes your thighs open and you hear every sticky, wet slide of his cock.

He’s suddenly sliding a hand underneath your neck.

“Look, babydoll,” Joel gasps.

You don’t pay him much attention, your eyes barely able to focus on his face.

“C’mon–fuck.”

You lean up on your elbows with the little energy you have left and watch his length, veiny and large, covered in your slick, piston in and out of you.

If it didn’t feel so good, it would be almost scary to look at. Joel, so much larger and stronger than you, somehow able to fit so perfectly inside of you.

You fall back on the lounge chair and Joel places your ankle on his shoulder. He turns his head to nip your soft skin, leaving another imprint of his teeth on your body.

He pushes his thumb inside of your mouth and doesn’t even flinch as you bite down.

“I almost drove down to that college of yours,” he moans, “wanted to drag you outta the dorm and fuck you in the hallway.”

You moan around his thumb, lost in the fantasy of big, broad Joel dragging you by the hair and fucking you out in the open, in front of everyone to see.

His words are slurred at this point. But he's so drunk on pure lust that he can’t help himself but keep talking.

“Wanted to show everyone who owns this slut pussy.”

The way he speaks to you should make you angry, but you pussy only flutters and squeezes as he calls you his little slut.

He removes his thumb from your mouth and gently slaps your cheek before swiping his spit-covered thumb over your clit.

He swipes over your swollen bud, once, twice, using your spit and slick that now covers both of your lower bodies.

Your orgasm tears through you, washing over you in warm waves of bliss.

Joel keeps fucking you, moving faster until his hips piston and you're being used as a toy while your orgasm courses through your body.

He lays on top of you, keeping your thrashing and whimpering body bracketed onto the chair. Joel’s moans grow loud in your ear and you know he’s close.

“Not inside–” you whimper, “don’t cum–” your words not having any real meaning behind them except to add to your fantasy.

“Fuckin’ mine, my little cunt,” Joel snaps, “gonna cum in my babydoll–”

He swells impossibly larger inside of you and then you feel it, the hot splash of cum. Ropes and ropes fill your cunt and he grinds his cock into you, buries his head in your neck and groans your name over and over again.

Your body, still recovering from your orgasm from only a few moments ago, trembles once more. The warmth of his cum painting your womb shakes another one out of you.

You’re not sure how long it lasts. Joel continues to whisper in your ear about how fuckin’ sweet you are and how you have the tiniest cunt ever, babydoll while his cock fills you with cum.

Joel continues to lay on top of you and while he’s larger in every sense of the way, his weight is comforting. The setting sun is blocked by the canopy which you're grateful for because you don’t want him to move.

“How are ya’ feeling?” Joel asks.

You’ve almost fallen asleep at this point.

“Full… and sore,” you whisper.

“Maybe this time I’ll actually knock you up,” Joel whispers, placing a kiss on your forehead.

You roll your eyes and push him off of you.

“Not going to happen, old man. I’m on birth control. And we just met!"

“Shame,” he sighs dramatically. “How about I grill us some steaks?”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou #dark joel miller #dark fic

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 year ago

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AITA for not having time to read my mutual's writing?

Met a mutual on here, bonded through fanfic, have been tight with them for a few years with pretty much no bumps in the relationship, just overall had a really good time hanging around them when I could. We both write a lot and share our writing, and occasionally we talk about that writing/workshop it in passing.

In the past few years I've gone through a ton of life changes. Most notably I went from a multi-person household to a single-person one, and I've been living alone in a prohibitively costly city for a while now working 40 hour weeks and barely scraping by. As soon as the transition started I spent the last of my free income on a shitty little laptop so I could still write, putting down words on my bus/train commutes in the morning and quite literally writing on my breaks at work because I feel insane when I can't create. I bring this up to really stress that I don't have the time for the hobby, I force myself to make the time and even then it never feels like enough.

The only thing I can really stand to do with my 3 hours of free time at night is hang out with my moots online. I'm an extrovert so being around people recharges me. If I don't have designated social time I get super depressed and can pretty much feel my soul withering away. I also feel like I should probably mention that I kinda have a slew of mental issues, personality disorders and PTSD and AuDHD and the works. Point being, shit is rough my dude, but I am a person who likes to work hard and face challenges head on and even though we strugglin, we doing it with a positive outlook.

But! I am an incredibly solution-oriented person and I have found what I personally believe to be a good balance. No one should have to live like this, but I do, and I have found a way to be happy. My writing and my social time is all load-bearing. It is not something I just choose to do on a whim, it's all planned and scheduled and I adhere to those routines very strictly because, I cannot stress this enough, I will go fucking bonkers if I don't.

I'm mutuals with a lot of writers obv, and I sadly don't have time to read their work anymore, unless I get some extra time on my days off or something gets cancelled or like, I end up taking a vacation. I carry a great amount of guilt for this, though, even though I logically know it's reasonable. I try to support them where I can, cheer them on when I see them writing and tell them how cool their ideas sound, hype them up even when I can't actually read & review.

One of the things I do is sometimes I leave a kudos on fic I haven't read. I'm not trying to be ingenuine, and if they asked me I'd tell them like 'Oh I didn't read it yet, just wanted to show support!' but to me it's kinda like ripping a paper tab off a poster so that other's feel inclined to do the same. Plus my pals get a little email and a hit of serotonin.

Except one of my acquaintances, the one I mentioned at the start here, saw that I left kudos on a couple pieces another mutual of mine wrote this year. They more or less blew up my DMs with a ton of accusatory (like, literally presented like a 'GOTCHA!') stuff about how I was selective in who's fic I read, more or less implying that I secretly held some sort of grudge or negative feeling toward them and was making the conscious decision not to read or interact with their writing because of. Something, I don't actually know what they were trying to say. They also told me they vented to their friends about this MULTIPLE times, but they never once approached me to let me know they were feeling paranoid or neglected, they literally just took the most bad faith reading of it possible and then presented that to me like it was something I intentionally did, while the whole time I was unaware.

I tried to explain to them the kudos thing, that I didn't do it to every story, just ones I caught/noticed in my busy schedule. And I laid all this out and asked, multiple times, what free time am I supposed to read with? They didn't answer, and doubled down, kept trying to show me 'proof' that I was shorting them and no one else. Once they started to realize how wrong they were they backed down, but they didn't really apologize, or admit they were wrong, and they tried to end our relationship and left every single server we were in together. Because of some other unrelated stuff going on in my life, I didn't really consider them to be a close friend, but they were someone I really held dear and would've walked through hell for if they'd asked.

I still feel like there is something I'm missing here, and that's why I wanted to ask if I'm TA. I'm a pretty good communicator but one of the things I told myself when talking down my disordered thoughts (guilt about this prior) was "no one in their right mind would use reading fanfic as a metric for friendship." Now that I've had that exact thing happen, I'm starting to think maybe those thoughts weren't so disordered. Maybe this IS a big deal, and I should think about it more, but I don't even know what the solution to that would be. I just. Don't have time to read something lovingly crafted and appreciate it for what it is. All the hours in my week are used up, I'd have to lose sleep for this and with my mental health the way it is that is not an option.

Feel free to be a brutal, my skin is thick. Thanks!

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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gatorbites-imagines · 3 months ago

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micheal meyers fic if you still write for him? 🎃

I rlly liked your other fics with him, not a big fan of him being characterized as overly affectionate so I rlly liked your kinktober fics about him

something in a similar vein to that? smut or no smut is chill, just him being infatuated in his own creepy way

Michael Myers x male reader

Headcanons

Im happy you like my stuff :3c ive never imagined he was overly affectionate either, it just didn’t feel like it fit his character very much, ya know? No hate to the people who write that, I just like imagining him as a creepy guy, standing there… menacingly…

I think the only way you two could have met where you made a lasting impression is if you were somehow at the same asylum as him. Be it as a doctor or a patient. But I’ve never read a fic where the reader was one of the doctors, so that’s what we’re gonna go with here.

Joining up at smith’s grove sanitarium hadn’t been your first choice, since it was known as a pretty run-down place, that treated their patients more as prisoners than people. It may have been a place for the worst of the worst, but they were still people in your eyes.

You get Michaels attention by somehow wrenching his care from Dr Loomis’s hands, using all kinds of laws and loopholes to rip it from him and then running for the door pretty much. To you, what Loomis did should get him placed in jail and his license removed, as it could only have made his patients states worse.

Building a relationship with Michael is what many would call impossible. But you believed that every person had something special that fueled them, and just being treated like a worthwhile human being always seemed to do the trick.

It took months, if not years for you to really worm your way into Michael’s heart, or whatever was left of it. He hadn’t really had many positive male people in his life, something you also blamed Dr Loomis for, but over time he grew closer to you, in his own way.

To others it may seem like Michael was the same as always, but at this point you’ve worked with him so long that you know him. You can feel his attention follow you, even when you are on the other side of the yard where the patients get sunlight.

It’s no shock that you are most patients’ favorite, especially after you become head of the hospital, after a very long and stressful battle with those stuck in their old ways. It made you start cleaning house, getting rid of bad caretakers and methods to replace them with better ones.

You took it extremely seriously, and would have any so called interviewers or investigators removed from the premises, to not mess with your patients’ care.

You gain a bit of a reputation in the media at how incredibly cruel you can be to the people who wish to use and abuse your patients. Some call you crazy for protecting them, especially as everyone knows Michael Myers resides there.

But to you, it doesn’t matter. You have no spouse, no children, you haven’t talked to your family since you left home at 18, all you truly have is your job, so that is what you use your energy on.

And if a lot of that time is spent with Michael, then so be it. Having Michael actually emote or pay attention to you, is a big step in the right direction in your book. You can never get him to talk, but he does succeed in learning a couple of signs, though you suspect he only does it because he knows it makes you happy.

Later you would look back on Michael’s escape as something you blamed on yourself. Over the long time you had been his caretaker, you always made sure to be there on Halloween, since it was such an important date for him.

He never told you this, obviously, but you could tell. It just happened that you had needed surgery around that time, something you couldn’t put off as much as you wanted. If you wanted to keep caring for your patients, then you needed it done.

So, it truly shouldn’t have been such a surprise for one of your nurses to call you in a panic that Michael had somehow gotten out. Being bedbound, there wasn’t much you could do but give orders from home and watch the tv.

You didn’t technically live in Haddonfield, but you lived close enough that you could bike to town for groceries if you needed to, but also so you could drive to work without much issue.

Seeing no reports of murders outside the usual made you sigh and slump in on yourself. You had put off taking your pain medication, wanting to be clearheaded and aware, just in case you needed to be. And what else kept one clear in the head but pain.

As bedridden as you were, there wasn’t much you could do when you heard your back door open. You only knew it was that door, as it had a loud squeaky hinge you never got fixed, as it wasn’t like you used that entrance much.

Seeing Michaels looming stature shouldn’t have been a shocker either. What did amaze you to a certain, professional extent, was that he hadn’t put on his usual coveralls or mask, instead it was one you two had made together using safe materials.

There was no verbal or physical reply when you spoke to him, outside of a slight rise of tension in his shoulders when he heard you grunt in pain, as you turned to look at him.

You didn’t want to call the hospital, knowing just how volatile Michael could be. And you may have replaced many doctors and nurses, but they still feared him, all but you at least. The only thing you truly could do was speak to him, to make him stay so he didn’t go kill anyone.

Maybe it was the years of care you had given him, but Michael at some point moved closer, just staring down at you and the bandages around your stomach.

You had a feeling he wanted to poke it or maybe just unwrap it, but you had worked with him about other people’s pain tolerance. Michael still only seemed to care when it was you, but you put a lot of stuff in his notes about your professional opinion and growth.

There were worse caretakers than Michael. In all reality he wasn’t really a caretaker. A lot of it was just him standing by the door, in the corner, or right at the foot of your bed to watch you. Hed shuffle after you wherever you went in the apartment, even carrying you when you couldn’t move too much.

you had decided to heal enough to bring him back to smith’s grove when you healed enough, already knowing how violent Michael could be with other people.

To Michael though, this meant more than you meant. He wasn’t one to feel lust or much romantic attraction, but he was drawn to you and attached enough to just stay, to even bring you your pill bottles and water, like how you would to him at smith’s grove.

You theorized it made him happy, in his own way, to know he was helping in the ways he knew how. Another more paranoid part of your brain did worry about what he did when you slept, since the pain medication had that effect.

Nothing ever looked out of place, but you did catch him kneeling beside your bed on more than one occasion, just holding your hand. Or the times hed place your hand on top of his head so you would caress him.

It was inappropriate for a doctor to do such a thing with his patients, but Michael seemed calmer and more at ease when it was just you two. He couldn’t cuddle in bed with you, and neither did he seem to want to, but being held and coddle in small amounts seemingly worked for him.

Michael clearly wasn’t pleased when you took him to return to smith’s grove, but he actually came along without issue. It caused a whole media storm, but over the years you had mastered those too. As long as it helped your patients, then you would do it, to a certain extent.

And if giving Michael weekends at your place where he got to stalk you around your own property was what he needed, then so be it. you saw it as progress, in his own, weird way. Hell, Michael even started sitting and having dinner with you instead of just hovering. To you that was a win, no matter what others said.

#male reader #michael myers #halloween #slasher #michael myers imagine #michael myers headcanon #michael myers x male reader #michael myers x reader #halloween imagine #halloween headcanon #halloween x male reader #halloween x reader #slasher imagine #slasher headcanon #slasher x male reader #slasher x reader #doctor reader

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lukolabrainrot · 4 months ago

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Welcome to My TedTalk

Hellooooo, I know I have been a little MIA lately... needed a little break after the energy shift from the rollercoaster last week. But I am still here lol and I have been marinating on quite a few things the last couple of weeks. So below are my thoughts. As always, everything here are just my thoughts and speculation from the information I have seen. Others might interpret information differently, and that is fine. Note: This will be another one of my long posts lol

Let's start with the obvious. October was a ROLLERCOASTER. It started off soooo strong, and the closest I think we have ever come to L/N publicly announcing they are in a relationship. And THEN... It was just total whiplash the rest of the month. Not a fun feeling right?? And I think a lot of people have started to feel like they can't trust L/N and have sooooo many questions on why October went the way it did. I think a lot of people are also feeling very frustrated because we have gotten so many clues/crumbs/Easter Eggs that haven't really led anywhere. All your various feelings around everything lately are valid. But L/N are allowed to do what they want (obviously) and if crumbs/Easter Eggs are all they want/can show us rn, we have to accept that. October was a rough month for me as well on this ship, which is why I took a couple breaks. We have to remember that we choose to be on this ship, we don't HAVE to be. It's totally valid if you're feeling overwhelmed/not having fun on the ship anymore, you can always take a break and come back if/when you want to. WE DO NOT KNOW L/N. NONE OF US. These are celebrities whose lives are very different than ours (which I know is obvious, but I thought it was important to note). They are human though and allowed to be imperfect, and we get to choose how much energy we give to them. And I have said this multiple times, but they do not owe us anything, and DESERVE to have a private life. We have so many questions related to them, and the fact is, we are never going to have all the answers. And you know what, that is how it should be imo. We are not owed every little detail of their life, and honestly, we got lucky we even got crumbs. THEY DID NOT HAVE TO DO THAT. They will go public WHEN they want/can.

People have talked about this before, but we got an AMAZING tour from them and sooooo much content. SOOOO MUCH. And we got addicted, and then were were cut off cold turkey, and papgate was a total grenade that threw everything into chaos. However, L/N were OBVIOUSLY hiding behind their characters during the WT (no one can convince me otherwise). And we talk about blurred lines between them and their characters, but L/N ARE NOT Polin (although there are a lot of similarities with their stories). There were definitely blurred lines between them and their characters yes, but neither of them are their characters and are a lot more complex and complicated. Lastly, I think because we got soooo much content from them, and they were obviously using their own personal relationship/feelings for each other to promote their characters and the season, L/N kind of lost control of their public narrative related to their private lives. I think that, and leaving everything open to speculation (STILL), was their biggest mistake. But like I said, everything has to be on their own time, and they do have good teams to handle this stuff.

I think we all know this already, but in case it's not obvious... DM has a personal vendetta against N, they do not like her getting positive attention, and I can't stress this enough, THEY WANT HER TO FAIL. 1000%. I think there are a lot of complexities on why this is the case, but you can make your own conclusions on why this is happening. But it IS happening. And you should never get your information directly from DM. They are a sensationalist, tabloid blog. THEY ARE NOT A RELIABLE NEWS SOURCE. THAT IS A FACT.

This fandom has turned INCREDIBLY toxic, and most of the drama is coming from WITHIN the fandom and in-fighting. We don't have concrete answers about ANYTHING related to L/N's romantic lives. Shipping should be fun and low stakes, because ultimately, who they are dating doesn't REALLY matter. That is their personal life, and they are not defined by who they are dating. But like I just mentioned, I think L/N leaving the wolves to mass speculation was one of their biggest mistakes, and has now led the fandom to where it is and this mass speculation and interest in their dating lives, which is feeding the tabloid frenzy and rumors.

Alright, now that I got that out of the way, on to my thoughts on everything the last couple of months:

Firstly, I HIGHLY recommend, if you haven't already, reading through this entire post by @fiamat12. It is incredibly enlightening and well laid out! Couple things I want to add/note:

The paparazzi are a money hungry machine, constantly looking for opportunities that will get them the most money. Ethics... out the window. Ethics/respect doesn't get them money. As long as there is a demand for "candid" photos/videos of celebrities' private/personal lives, and unless laws/regulations significantly change around them, this industry will continue being this way. This means though that the material they circulate is not always what meets the eye. It is just a moment in time with very little context, and in general, a total violation of privacy. However, unfortunately, it is a beast celebrities have to navigate, and sometimes they play games with them to protect their privacy.

L has not been seen in real time (via paps or people in public) since Sorrento. THREE MONTHS. And although we joke that L has just been holed up in their house (yeah I said it), L has definitely been out in public living his life. And y'all, people WANT to see him. I know he doesn't stand out as much as N and can blend into the crowd more, but there is NO WAY no one has seen him in three months. There is some strategy in place here where he has been able to keep a VERY low profile, and I think some of these side characters are part of that strategy. And no one can convince me that his low profile has NOTHING to do with the fact that him and N are together.

2. Alright, side characters... let's first get to the A of it because it's pretty obvious to me. I'm going to keep this short. She plays games. This isn't new. There are VERY likely NDAs in place. This isn't new information either. And she LOVES attention by stirring the pot. Therefore, any time we give her any engagement, we are feeding the beast.

3. Onto JD... this post basically summarizes my thoughts. NOTHING about JD has been private. There isn't anything to protect there from the masses. IF JD (and I'm not saying he is) was her serious partner, there wouldn't be so many public games with the two of them. There are a lot of games, and if this was a serious relationship she wanted to protect, she wouldn't be throwing him and her to the wolves. She just wouldn't. But L... she doesn't mess around about him. Although L/N have given us crumbs, they have obviously not been totally honest about their private relationship with each other (which is totally valid), because there is a lot there they want to protect from the wolves.

4. So if you have made it this far, you can see there is a LOT going on, and it's complex. And although L/N have maybe not been totally honest about everything, they don't have to be and there are reasons. And that doesn't therefore mean they have been totally disingenuous about each other and aren't to be trusted. I personally don't think they have. However, they want to protect their privacy. Even though October was a rollercoaster, in no way do I believe L and N are hot and heavy with A or JD. There is just too much evidence to the contrary that L/N are in a serious relationship BTS, and likely have been for a while. Here are some of the reasons I have come to this conclusion:

THE RINGS (everything about them)

The photo of L in her house while she was getting ready with a ring on his ring finger (we can argue all we want, those are his hands and that pic was VERY intentional)

N's TIME article

The October 3rd and BRB story from L (HE HASN'T DONE ANYTHING LIKE THIS ON HIS PUBLIC ACCOUNT IN A LONGG TIME)

The coordinated travel posts from L/N when they were going to NY

Chaos week from N in early August (that was about L, no one can convince me otherwise)

BLESS THE TELEPHONE (That was how I knew they were together and had been for a while likely... can't exactly explain it)

TalkTalk, Juna

The recent Polin pic they BOTH shared to their stories (they were both really emotional looking (N was absolutely beaming and looked like she had tears in her eyes) and the pic was VERY interestingly cropped 🤔)

All the "boyfriend" pics of L on N's IG page (I did a whole post about this that you can find if you scroll through my page)

The Polaroid(s)

THE WHOLE WT (which is why a lot of us are still here despite all the noise and emotional whiplash)

And trust me, both L and N know what people are saying and how people are interpreting the information they are putting out to the public. THEY KNOW. So if there was NOTHING going on between them, that would have been corrected atp and they wouldn't have fed the flames. But it hasn't and they have... They'll go public when they are ready/can. Until then, we just have to sit back, relax, and wait and see how everything unfolds.

And THAT is where I am with everything atp. Of course, we're all going to interpret the same information we are seeing a little differently, which is fine. This is just my interpretation of the information.

And if you made it to the end... thank you for coming to my TedTalk 😅

#lukola theories #just some thoughts #purely speculation

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soaps-mohawk · 5 months ago

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I'm so sorry to everyone that I freaked out with the last post, I was trying so hard not to 😭 I have that like instant fear as soon as I see "we need to talk" or something in the same vein. I always think it's something bad.

This isn't bad, at least depending on how your perspective I guess.

So...I'm having thoughts about CRCB in October. I planned out posting schedules for Kyletober and CRCB and my Patreon stuff and it's going to basically be a post every day, sometimes multiple in multiple places.

That's a lot.

So, I am set on doing Kyletober since all of the fics are already written, but I was planning on continuing CRCB during October as well. But...I think I need a little break from CRCB. It's been about eight months of posting almost every single week and it's been a lot. I'm struggling with chapters right now and with work it's vastly limiting the time I have to write and focus on things and I'm kind of burning out right now.

So, what I wanted to discuss was potentially putting CRCB on hold for October while I focus on Kyletober and everything involved with that. Trying to do both is a lot and I'm not sure I can handle all of it, plus life, plus work.

I was planning on not necessarily putting CRCB on hold, but doing more of a "whenever I can/am inspired" random posting chapters kind of like I did in the beginning when I first started writing the fic, in November/December because those are very busy months and I will be dead tired from work and just general life.

I think I might still do that for November/December and possibly into the new year since there's no way the fic will be finished even if I posted every week until the end of December.

BUT

That's something I'll think about and make a decision on later.

Right now, my thought is...would you hate me if I put CRCB on pause in October? IF I do, I promise I won't end Chapter 39 on a cliffhanger. I wasn't planning on it anyway, but I promise I won't end it on a cliffhanger if I decide not to post any chapters in October.

That way if I do put it on pause, then I can not focus on it for a bit and give my brain a refresh, and I can also focus all my energy on Kyletober.

So yeah, it's going to be a lot doing both at the same time, and honestly I'm ready for a little break from CRCB. It's been going for a long time and it's a lot of words to get out in a week. I've been super stressed lately and I'm just struggling a lot trying to get through chapters.

So yeah. That's basically the dilemma here and the discussion to be had. I know y'all will tell me it's my blog and I can do whatever I want, but I would like opinions on it. Are y'all okay with me putting CRCB on hold to focus on Kyletober? Then pick it back up for probably just whenever I can chapter updates for the rest of the year? In January things will calm down and I'll have more time to relax and write and maybe get close to finishing the story. Plus I know a lot of my readers will be busy the next three months with the holidays and vacations and family and school and all of that, so you won't have to worry about getting behind and having to catch up with a bunch of chapters.

So...let me know...

#I wish I could keep writing it every week #but I need a break #a little refresh one could call it #it might do all of us some good

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alchemistc · 4 months ago

Note

911 was always in my periphery bc of how popular Buck x Eddie is on Tumblr and Ao3. I didn't really want to watch a cable network procedural drama, especially one that came off as so unserious. I could also see how such invested shipping by a lot of fans who are young and think it’s ok to demand things from the cast and crew would inevitably become a toxic cesspool. I stand by that assessment of the show based on the behavior of the fandom these last months, as well as the overall quality of the writing and how often good story lines just get dropped or undermined.

However, I heard about Buck coming out. Over the summer, I was going through a lot and feeling aimless, so I finally started watching the show. And I liked Buck and Tommy, but what I really loved was the quality of the fan works they inspired. At the end of the day, I never really had real expectations of high quality television from a show like 911; that’s not what it’s for.

Despite this, what really affected me last night—which was also the first episode I bothered watching live ever because of how terrible this last week has been—wasn’t even how badly it was executed or the fact that they broke up. But how unnecessarily and viciously cruel the whole thing felt?

What was the point of showing Tommy as a caring, supportive, present partner in the previous episode if it was going to lead to an unceremonious break up? What was the point of showing his yearning for connection and family only to see him throw it all away? Why have him say such wonderful things about Buck moments before questioning the commitment of their relationship after six months together? What was the point of Buck getting that speech from Josh and bringing up marriage and moving in together and that Tommy had been a transformative relationship when it was going to end with him being dumped? It just felt so horribly cruel to see a character bare his tender heart and see it get stomped on. He looked so sad at the end.

Up till the very end of the episode, I was actually really enjoying it. Their acting was so good from heart eyes to heartbreak, and the show seemed to understand Tommy’s reaction to Buck getting hit on by those women would cause friction. It even made sense to me that Tommy would recoil at the prospect of moving in together because Buck clearly hasn’t come to terms with being queer yet (sir, you haven’t researched the Kinsey scale? You?) And Tommy is also clearly afraid to reach for the connections he wants and the seeming inevitability of his heart being broken and is masking that with nonsense about Buck needing to play the field and the biphobia present wherein. It was such an interesting depth to his character! I thought the break up speech was so well-acted, and I was so ready for the conversation they were going to have that would address it and let them move on together stronger. To see Buck learn from Josh and see the scars Tommy was unintentionally revealing in that moment and address them.

And then the credits started rolling and I felt like I got punched in the gut.

It was definitely the straw that broke the camel’s back for me, with the election and other personal stuff really stressing me out this week. Last night, I felt sick and unable to sleep, and I spent the morning bawling my eyes out. It feels like one of the few things I really looked forward to had been snatched away for the shock factor. I believe the interviews are the definite death knell, but even if you don’t follow the interviews, it was just a cruel way to end the episode. Even if this ends up being a temporary roadblock or they “fix” it, it’ll always leave a bad taste in my mouth.

Anyway, I’m upset that I let a show I always knew wasn’t very good affect me this much, and I regret spending months of my life on it. But the reason I wanted to send this ask was because my real hyperfixation these last few months was never the show itself; it was always the Bucktommy fandom. Reading some of the most beautiful fanfiction, including yours, these deep and intense character studies or au’s or future fics that show more love to these characters than the show does. The stunning art, the lovingly rendered gifs, the startlingly funny and insightful writing. The fandom has been my real love, and I hope that despite this huge blow, people like you will continue being so immensely creative and artistic for this ship.

I’m sorry this has been so long and vent-y, but I wanted to send you this ask because you’re one of my favorite fic authors, and I’ve been following your posts since last night and you’re still responding to anonymous asks. I’ve always been stealth in the fandom to avoid certain parts of it, so didn’t want this on my own blog. If you do publish it, I hope the other authors and artists and creators who have made my life better get to see it too <3 And that they don’t regret the time and passion and love they’ve poured into the last few months. I have appreciated it, if nothing else.

Hi.

First of all, please don't apologize for the length of this.

Everything you pointed out were exactly the reasons people joined this fandom. Everything you listed here is EXACTLY the reason it left such a bad taste in our mouth.

I'm sorry I won't be more eloquent in this post, because this is such a kind and thoughtful and lovely summation of all the things I've been hearing and seeing and feeling.

The point of all that, if we are to believe Lou (which I do, and honestly props to him for being as gracious as he was in those post-mortems: fucking TWO exit interviews for a guest star? wtf abc), WAS to pull the rug out from under the audience. It WAS to end it all on a shocker of heartbreak. They filmed the bulk of Tommy's S8 scenes AFTER the breakup. It is absolutely vicious and cruel and meant to make people talk about it. The engagement they are getting right now is to some extent WHAT THEY WANTED. I went straight to my notes after work and I can't be fucked to check the insta or FB to see if they've posted anything new and/or what the comment count is on the 8x06 posts but THIS IS THE INTENDED RESULT. Broken hearts, upset people, an increasingly toxic fandom crowing.

That's where I'm at. I think that's where a lot of people have landed. And it's so disheartening to see something that really genuinely drew people in because it was handled so gently and kindly at first just be ripped away and the door shut on it.

And honestly if they close the mid season OR open or close 8B on a premise that includes one of them being injured and the other having a Realization™️ I won't trust this team to do it genuinely or truly. Even the breakup would have held so much potential for me, but not like this.

Anyway. I'm sorry you're feeling so disappointed. I am grieving the missed potential of literally every plot they built up this season for every character and if I do watch it won't be live and I will likely have very little trust for it's potential. There has been So Much wasted potential.

And I want to say thank you. Even if you lurked, even if you disengage now, the creators who made those works made them out of love and they wanted to share them and the community around it all has been lovely to see. Thank you.

Some of us will still be hanging around building the world that could have been. I hope, if you feel up to peeking at that sandbox, that you feel welcome to go play in it or even just clap from the sidelines.

♥️

#bucktommy #catie for ts #truly sincerly thank you for loving bucktommy while it lasted #and thank you for putting all of my scattered thoughts into ine place #appreciate you ♥️

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koifsssh · 2 years ago

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The Greaser Au!

(oh goodie! it's here!)

bwah, where to start?

long, long, long rambles below! (Beware!)

Wally! I'll start with Wally!

As you can imagine, Wally is the little leader of the group! Promptly dubbed after his last name, "The Darlings"! (how darling they are indeed!)

Wally had grown a fascination with the trend, though he didn't quite understand the need to act so tough and mean, so he decided to make his own group! (with the help of Barnaby!)

Motorcycles, catchy tunes, being free on the road is something everyone should enjoy! So who cares if you're big or small, or if you like the color pink? Anyone can be a greaser as long as they got a jacket and a bike to go along with it!

At least, that what he believes anyway!

Speaking of a certain beagle...

Barnaby!

Barnaby of course wanted to join in on the fun, and he very publicly advertised Wally's gang at his little comedy nights! (It did catch a certain blonde's attention!)

it did garner attention, with the way the beagle so affectionately told of Wally's endearingly comedic actions from their day to day life. Barnaby also helped Wally organize the entire set up, helping him get paint and base jackets for the painter to personalize! (He also suggested Poppy's diner as a hangout spot! He had it all thought out!)

Plus, it made his best friend happy! Who could ask for more? Well... maybe Barnaby would ask for a hotdog or two.

Julie!

Julie is a seasoned hair stylist! She owns her own hair salon! She's excellent at her job, however more often than not she gets a unpleasant customer.

Stress can pile up unfortunately, and when she attended a comedy show one evening she couldn't help but be ecstatic at such an idea of being free on the road. It felt like the perfect destresser!

Talking on the phone with Frank was great and all, but nothing compares to feeling the rush of wind in her hair... So she jumped at such an opportunity! And of course, Julie doesn't go anywhere without a certain frowny bookworm!

Frank!

Frank is an entomologist! (and a part-time librarian during the summertime!) A dream job really, but every dream comes with its hurdles! Similar to Julie, Frank found themself stressed. Usually books were able to decompress them, but lately they've been growing frustrated, the one thing they hate the most is incompetent writing!

It took a lot of convincing to get Frank to even consider the idea of being a greaser, let alone get on a motorcycle... but Julie can be very insistent when she wishes to be! Not even a week passed before they begged Julie to stop her nagging, but in exchange they had to at least go with her once on a motorcycle...

how mortifying.

However! the thrill of being on the open road at a high speed was something they never knew they needed! Needless to say, after that, they were hooked!

Sally!

Sally was the last member to join! and she took her spot quite quickly!

Sally had been in Poppy's diner when she saw The Darling's walk in, she was in awe! Colorful motorcycles? Matching jackets? They all looked marvelous! The star couldn't help herself when she walked up to them, simply starstruck at such a group!

They all looked to be having such fun... she wanted to take part!

When Sally asked if there was a spot left for her, Wally softly smiled at her and stated, "Anyone and everyone can join!"

She was content that day, and from then on, it really was the best group of friends she could ever ask for!

---

whew! im done!

(this is my second time typing this... i had lost it all the first time. bwah. but it's here!!!)

im quite happy how everything turned out! I think i'll use this as a master post of sorts, just so you don't have to dig through my stuff just to find anything specific!

I'll leave Poppy's & Howdy's explanations here! (Just know those designs are old! All the designs in this post are the ones i will be using!)

Poppy's Diner!

additionally! I will give you everyone's closeups!

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inbabylontheywept · 6 months ago

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Hey, so for context it's 3:45 AM where I am, and I'm stark awake at this hour because I had to take a nap yesterday due to eating a meal I really shouldn't have that is still wreacking havoc on my intestines. I'm definitely going to regret sending this ask HARD once the sun comes up, but I've been doing a lot of unadvisable shit on the internet over the past 3 days so why not add this to the pile.

I'm kind of having a weird emotional thing right now over your last post because it's just too ridiculous to be true, and I'm realizing the majority of your blog is probably all creative writing not intended to be taken seriously, but I've believed everything you've claimed to be a true story up until this point? And now I'm faced with either being a gullible fool, or an asshole for saying this if it IS all true, and I have to ask or I'll never know? I shouldn't be letting this get to me but it is.

So please, I ask sincerely and with no intention of being a jackass, are your life stories actually all true, or are they supposed to come across as obviously exaggerated or wholly fictional? I'm sure I could piece it together if I lay in bed and thought about it for an hour or two, but I think I'll just take the L and ask outright because fuck it.

But THEN if it truly is just a creative writing blog, would you keep the bit going and claim it's all real when it's not? Like, do you see why I'm going crazy? I am a very gullible, easily lied to person and that has lead me to be on high alert, but I almost always jump at the wrong things and come across as a distrustful asshole, so?? Will you assume this ask itself is LARP because of all the specific details I tacked on, which are intended to garner a sense of sincerity? I'm realizing I may have been playing checkers with someone playing chess all this time and I'm wigging out man

So, I'll start with the small stuff first:

The camp was in Prescott, AZ, in the mountains, over labor day weekend which is in late fall. I don't know the actual temperatures as numbers, but the people at the camp spent more time being cold than hot. The camp organizers also did bring a ludicrous amount of the pink sauce. I don't think the campsite itself was ever intended to provide potable water, just utility water for the showers and dishes and other non-for-direct-consumption tasks. So in that area, the camp people overprepared because Arizonans don't fuck around with dehydration.

I'm also pretty sure they had some water available, they were just very careful with it. I think there were a few diabetic kids, and they were making sure they wouldn't have to subsist on the weird gatorade like everyone else. Maybe. I don't honestly know.

But that's one story, and the thing that you're really asking is, are all these stories fake? Is it all just creative writing? And the answer to that is a soft no.

As a writer, I'm pretty strongly influenced by Patrick McManus. A lot of my stories are told in the American Tall Tale style - which is exaggerated, and dramaticized, but tells a story that is true nonetheless. I am going to keep the specifics of the exaggeration and dramatization between myself and God, but I would look at my stories and say that they're each more than 80% true. I hope that relieves some of your stress.

I wouldn't call what I do creative writing exercises. But I also wouldn't encourage you to take them 100% seriously. Both because I talk a big game, and because they are, at the end of the day, just funny stories. I certainly wouldn't want you to lose any more sleep over them.

You aren't a jackass for expressing incredulity. It's part of my style, and I welcome it. I also wouldn't call you a gullible fool for believing things in the past. We're good, you and I, and I've enjoyed having you as a reader. I hope you keep reading. Just, maybe not at 3:45 AM. Take care of yourself, Babylon

#Babylon-Lore #Babylon-TopPick

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millenianthemums · 17 days ago

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Chapter 6 of Mabel’s Guide to the Power of Friendship is up!!

Writing this one took me a while, and then the art also took a while… everything took a while. i always enjoy writing this once i get to it, though! hope you enjoy this one too.

INDEX

chapter text under cut:

It was hard for Mabel to really relax, knowing that Bill was lurking just below the floorboards. But by the time the sun was low and her family was gathered around the dinner table, she’d mostly put it out of her mind. It was hard to be miserable with them around.

“You think Soos will bring more empanadas when he’s here tomorrow?” Dipper asked, picking at the strangely opalescent casserole on his plate.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were insinuating something about my cooking,” Ford said wryly.

“Whaaat? No! No, don’t be– that’s ridiculous,” Dipper said. “This is great! I mean, it’s a million times better than last time, this one didn’t even come to life and attack us–”

“Don’t jinx it,” Stan said.

“Hey, c’mon, guys,” Mabel piped up. “It’s the thought that counts, right? It’s really sweet that he tried. Besides, even Grunkle Ford can’t be perfect at everything.”

Ford chuckled. “Thank you, Mabel. As far as backhanded compliments go, that’s quite nice.”

“It’s true!” she said. “So what if you’re not a chef? You invent, like, six magical contraptions a week!”

“That’s a wild exaggeration,” Ford said with a grin. “It’s been at least a month since the last one. Although Fiddleford and I have made some real progress on our current project…”

“New project?” Dipper perked up. “What is it?”

“Oh, I don’t know if the details will interest you that much–”

“Shaaare!” Mabel demanded. Dipper immediately joined in, both of them pumping their fists and shouting “Share! Share! Share!” until Ford laughed and gave in. They all knew he didn’t really need that much encouragement, but it was fun anyway.

“Alright, alright! I’ll tell you.” Ford waved his hands to set the scene, the way he always did when he started talking about science stuff. “So, we all know that unicorn tears have remarkable healing properties, right? But we also know that unicorns aren’t generous creatures, and trying to obtain some tears by force often creates more injuries than they could ever heal.”

Stan snorted. “And how many tries did it take for that lesson to set in?”

“Not the topic, Stanley. Anyway, our goal was to synthetically recreate the healing properties of the tears, eliminating the need to seek out the real thing. This has been in the works for a long time; in fact, our biggest breakthroughs came from studying the sample Mabel and her friends obtained last year…”

Dipper extended a fist to Mabel, and she proudly bumped it.

“...And I must say, we’ve had some very promising results with the latest prototypes! There have been some hiccups here and there– we really should have fireproofed the lab sooner– but I think in the next few weeks, we might even end up with something that could surpass the healing properties of unicorn tears!”

“Nice!” Mabel held out a fist to Ford. “Take that, you overrated horses!”

Ford laughed, accepting the fist bump. Stan clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Here’s hoping you get it workin’ before we set out again. It’d make things way less stressful on the boat. Heck, the coast guard medics might even have time to forget our names!”

“Wait, you’re setting out again?” Dipper asked. “When?”

“End of the summer, same as you kids!” Stan said proudly. “First thing in September, we’re headed right back out there.”

Ford nodded. “We still have a lot more to investigate. I expect we’ll be very busy once Fall comes around, which is why I’m under strict orders to ‘take it easy’ while we’re here. Otherwise, the elixir would probably be finished by now–” Stan crossed his arms, and Ford quickly added “--but I completely understand the point of it. Rest is important, kids.”

“Darn right,” Stan grunted. “Far as I’m concerned, we’re both on vacation for the summer.”

Dipper tapped his fork on his chin. “So you won’t be studying Gravity Falls for a while?”

“C’mon, brobro,” Mabel chided. “Grunkle Ford’s willingly taking a break for once, let’s not remind him of all the extra stuff he could be doing!”

“That’s not what I meant!” Dipper protested. “I’m just saying…”

“It’s a fair question,” Ford said. “There certainly are plenty of mysteries left unsolved around here. But I think Stanley and I have broadened our focus a bit too much to give special attention to Gravity Falls anymore. Just our brief stay in the Arctic Circle alone has raised so many fascinating questions, and we still have so many more places to investigate… there’s just not enough time to solve all the world’s mysteries, I’m afraid.”

“Hey, relax, Poindexter,” Stan cut in, shoving Ford’s shoulder. “We’re not the only ones working on this stuff. Something tells me Gravity Falls’ll be in good hands, even without us.” He gave Dipper a meaningful wink. Mabel couldn’t help but smile at the way her brother’s face lit up.

“Hey, guys?” Dipper asked, leaning back in his chair and trying to seem subtle. “Can we talk after dinner? I was hoping to get some feedback on this project I’m working on…”

Mabel’s smile faded. “Is it about that dumb thesis contest?” She turned to the Grunkles and pointed accusingly at Dipper. “He won’t let me help with it! He wouldn’t shut up about how cool it would be to win and get a big smarty-pants paper published, and now that he’s allowed to start working on it he won’t even tell me what it’s gonna be about! I could have done like fifty illustrations by now if—”

“I told you, there’s nothing to share yet!” Dipper protested. “I’ve… kinda been putting it off. I’ve still got a week until the topic proposal’s due…”

“Then what do you need Stan and Ford’s ‘feedback’ on?”

Dipper tugged at his shirt collar. “Uh… it’s…”

“I could help,” she said, voice a little louder than she’d wanted. “Even if it’s something I’m bad at, I could help make it look cool. If you just told me a little bit about it…”

Dipper sighed. “Look, Mabel, I promise I’ll share it with you soon, okay? I just… I want it to be a surprise.”

Mabel looked at him doubtfully over the rim of her water glass. She wanted to keep prying, but it was clear she was just making him uncomfortable. He didn’t want her help, he just didn’t know how to say it. She could tell.

“Okay,” she said, trying not to sound hurt. It was fine, really. She had high-speed bike riding; Dipper was allowed to have things just for himself too. It was normal for twins to grow apart. She drained the rest of her glass and stared down at the tablecloth.

An awkward silence hung in the air for a moment. Then Stan spoke up. “Speaking of surprises. Hey Sixer, remember that thing we ran into off the coast of Greenland in March?”

Ford laughed. “How could I possibly forget? Now, kids, I don’t know about you, but nothing in my paleontology education gave me the impression that wooly mammoths were aquatic…”

Soon Mabel was too wrapped up in seafaring stories to be sad about anything.

——-

Bill must have fallen asleep at some point. He’d been lying there, in the basement, in the dark, with the Pines’ infernal voices ringing above him, but then something had happened. The voices changed. And suddenly he wasn’t in a basement anymore. He was lying on an exam table, and his arms were strapped down, and his eye wouldn’t close, and the air was thick with antiseptic. And there were voices all around him, moving around him, but he knew he couldn’t look, he just had to keep his eye focused on the stars overhead, just don’t look, just don’t look at them, just pretend they’re not there, pretend you’re among the stars and nothing’s happening, nothing hurts. So he didn’t look away, not even when the quiet voices he could hear through the pain changed again, became painfully familiar, he still didn’t look, even when they started screaming, even when their cries and pleading were drowned out by the sounds of flames, even when the heat waves twisted the air and the crunching, sizzling, tearing sounds and the smell of burning meat drowned out all his other senses he still didn’t look, he didn’t look down, he wouldn’t–

And then he was back in the basement. It was dark and still. The only sound was his own ragged breathing.

He sat up and scrubbed at his face with the blanket he’d been wrapped in. Dreams. He hadn’t been ready to deal with dreams. Other people’s dreams were a riot. Not his own.

He’d been distracted too quickly to dwell on the last one. He’d foolishly hoped that would be the last one for a while. But no, of course not. This world couldn’t allow him even a moment of peace. Every sleep was going to be like this.

In the dark, he staggered to the small bathroom in the back of the room. He ran the cold water in the sink and rinsed his mouth until he forgot the taste of the smoke. It was so vivid. So convincing. Even though none of it had made any sense, it felt real.

He stared numbly at the mirror. Their voices. He’d remembered them, of course. Despite all the worlds that had sprouted and withered between then and now, despite everything he’d tried, he’d never been able to stop remembering them. But he never thought he’d have to hear those voices again.

Someone knocked at the door.

His first thought was “thank god”. He’d been desperately hoping for anything else to think about. His second thought, as he heard the door unlock, was “that could be anybody”. So he stood just at the edge of the room and prepared to run for cover, until a small, high-pitched voice said “It’s me.”

Bill relaxed a little. Not a lot, but more than zero. He scrubbed his face dry and straightened his bowtie before she entered, trying to look as stoic as possible. She didn’t seem to notice anything amiss as she rushed in and slumped against the door to shut it. Both her hands were busy carrying an overloaded paper plate.

Trying her best to not let it fold under the weight of the food piled onto it, she glanced around for a surface to place it on. The curved lid of the wooden chest was considered, then quickly rejected when the plate started sliding. She winced before resorting to setting it down on the floor beside the beanbag. Finally, she retrieved a packet of plastic utensils from a takeout place and laid it beside the plate, trying to make it look presentable.

“We need to get a table or something in here,” she muttered as Bill drew closer to inspect the offering.

“YEAH, SOME APPLIANCES WOULD BE NICE TOO,” he joked. “I’M THINKIN’ A STUDIO APARTMENT KIND OF SETUP. WASHER AND DRYER OVER THERE, THAT CORNER’S THE KITCHEN… FULL-SIZE JACUZZI ON THAT SIDE, OBVIOUSLY…”

“I have six dollars,” Mabel piped up.

Bill laughed before he could stop himself. Encouraged, she went on: “I mean, there’s an empty fish tank and a car battery in the garage. We could make a hole in the side and stick a blowdryer in there for a jet. That’d be fine, right?”

He laughed again. “I LIKE WHERE YOUR HEAD’S AT, KID. IF WE SHUT OFF THE SPRINKLERS, WE COULD SET UP A FIRE PIT IN THE KITCHEN CORNER!”

“Perfect plan!” Mabel laughed along with him, but then seemed to think better of it. “But okay, hold on, we can start with the home renovations later. For now, you should eat.” She pointed to the plate. “It’s just some leftovers from tonight. Figured taking more snacks would look suspicious. But if it, uh… disagrees with you… then just let me know tomorrow.”

That wasn’t a glowing review. Looking dubiously at the alleged “food” on the plate, he didn’t see much reason to doubt it. Still, he tried to look grateful as he picked up a plastic fork. “WILL DO,” he said, trying not to look down.

“I’ll come back down tomorrow, before the others wake up,” she said, crossing back over to the door. “Including Grunkle Ford… ugh, that’s gonna suck. But once I’m back, we’ll figure out a plan, okay?”

Bill glanced around the room. “I THOUGHT THIS WAS THE PLAN,” he said.

“C’mon, you can’t just stay in one tiny dark room all summer! This isn’t Guacamole or something.”

Bill snorted. “GUANTANAMO?”

“Whatever,” she said, flushing. “The point is we need to get you outside once in a while. You have scales, things with scales need sunlight or they get sick. And what’s the point of all this work if you get sick and die??”

She had a point there. Bill shifted uncomfortably, realizing he wasn’t totally sure if the sun thing would apply to him or not. “YEAH, FAIR ENOUGH. KEEP FORGETTING THIS…” he gestured to the body, “…THING NEEDS ‘VITAMINS’ AND SUCHLIKE.”

“Relatable, honestly. But there’s a bunch more stuff to plan out, too! We need to be able to contact each other in emergencies. And, like, a secret knock so you know when it’s me, and a code to communicate…” as she spoke, her hands started flapping with excitement. “Oh my gosh, it’s like one of those spy games Dipper likes. We could make a guidebook with all this stuff! Like a, what, codex? For the code? We could make our own code! You can handle that part— I know that’s your thing, it’s literally your name… I get to do all the art, though. It can have a scrapbook vibe— I gotta find my craft scissors with the zig-zags—”

“KID.” Bill cut her off. “I KNOW IT’S IN YOUR NATURE NOT TO TAKE STUFF SERIOUSLY. IT’S A GOOD TRAIT! MAKES LIFE A LOT MORE BEARABLE. BUT THIS ISN’T SOME SILLY SUMMER CRAFT PROJECT. THIS IS LIFE OR DEATH, GOT IT? CAN WE TRY TO ACT LIKE IT’S IMPORTANT?”

She looked hurt. “Silly things are still important,” she muttered. “We could hide it in here. And even if someone finds it, it could be any goofy old thing I made! Dipper showed me how to do that invisible ink thing; I could act like the empty space is just unfinished parts! I dunno, I just… I thought it’d make this whole thing a little more fun.”

Bill squinted at her as she stared at the floor, arms crossed tight over her chest. Then he rolled his eye. Maybe he was being a choosing beggar here. This was Mabel Pines; of course she’d want to make some stupid game out of this. And the whole plan was to humor her. If this was what it took to keep her invested, he should probably just play along.

“OKAY, FINE. I’M IN,” he sighed. “WE CAN MAKE A BOOK OR WHATEVER.”

She lit up again. “Really?? Yes! Awesome! It’ll be so fun, I promise.” She paused and glanced at the dark window. “But we can start that later. I gotta go get at least a tiny bit of sleep first.”

Bill shrugged. “SURE. CAN’T KEEP THIS BODY ALIVE IF YOURS GIVES OUT.”

“Thanks for the concern,” she snorted. “And see you in the morning.” She gave a quick wave before shutting the door behind her.

Watching the door, he heard the heavy “clunk” of the lock clicking shut, then rapid footsteps bounding up the staircase. He sighed and pinched his forehead. That much youthful energy couldn’t be sustainable. She probably wouldn’t live past 20.

As he waited for the various noises and occupants of the house to settle, he wolfed down the food as fast as he could. The kid was right to be apologetic, but if he ate quickly, he didn’t taste it much. It was just fuel anyway.

When the plate was finally empty, he dropped it back to the floor and picked up the plastic fork. He rinsed it in the sink as well as he could, wiped it dry with the paper napkin that came with the set, then bent one of the tines away from the others. He leaned one side against the crack in the door, listening intently to the silence from above. There wasn’t a whisper of movement.

He stuck the tine of the fork into the lock.

It was more stubborn than your typical household lock, but Bill had bested much worse with much less. It only took a little finagling before he heard the “clunk” he was listening for. Slowly, cautiously, he eased the door open. The hallway was dark and empty. He stashed his impromptu lockpick in his hat, locked the door behind him, and crept up into the house.

—-

The place was as quiet and dark as he’d hoped for. He’d been right to judge by the footsteps above him that they’d all gone to bed. And thankfully, even without his usual glow, the stars outside were bright enough to see by. He crept along with his back against the wall, testing each floorboard before he stepped, scanning his surroundings.

The decor was about the same as he remembered, with a few notable changes. A lot of the ceiling and walls had been replaced; probably necessary after they turned it into a big stupid robot last year. And it seemed like someone else might have moved in. There were some new decorations that weren't anything close to the “style” he’d come to expect from the place. Lace doilies hung from the tops of chairs and sofas like dusty cobwebs, and handmade blankets and wall hangings were scattered all around. Shooting Star was crafty, sure, but these didn’t look like her handiwork. The colors were way too easy on the eye, and there wasn’t a crumb of glitter to be seen. If they were her doing, they were a big step down in quality.

But if they weren’t, it meant an extra person to deal with. Better keep his eye out.

He turned a corner and a massive shape blotted out the hallway ahead. He scrambled back, clenching his teeth tight beneath his eyelids to stop a yell from escaping.

Then his eye adjusted, and he had to stifle an irritated growl. It was just that stupid pig. He’d forgotten how huge it was now, and it looked a lot less pathetic from a low angle. It was sitting in the middle of the floor, directly in his path, staring down at him. Its eyes glittered in the moonlight like two tiny black teeth.

Bill glared up at it defiantly. Just let it try and make a move. He might not have magic, but he still had claws and teeth. A ripped throat wasn’t as flashy as immolation, but it was still perfectly fatal.

The pig returned his stare with no discernable expression. A few silent seconds crept by.

Then the pig gave a grumbly snort and laid its head on the ground. It flopped onto one side and closed its eyes with an indifferent sigh.

Bill hurried on, telling himself to thank his lucky stars instead of feeling indignant. Still, his ego stung a little. Not even livestock saw him as a threat anymore.

To his relief, he had no more surprise encounters as he cased the second floor. The layout of the rooms was about the same as before, which meant the sounds of walking from above his little home base would still be a reliable method of tracking the inhabitants. He steered well clear of all the bedrooms and kept his back to the wall, and the floorboards beneath him kept silent. He was out of practice with walking, sure, but nobody who grew up causing problems ever forgets how to sneak through a hallway.

Once he’d made mental notes of all the storage spaces that might have supplies he could use, he headed for the portal. On the way through the gift shop he snagged a small notepad and pen from behind the desk. Scanning over the portal wreckage, he made a list of the missing components and tools he’d need. In code, obviously; secret codes were literally his name, after all.

Once the darkness outside started to lift away, he cut his work short and headed back. He tore the used page from the notebook and placed it and the pen back where he’d found them, exchanging them for a single paperclip that he stashed in his hat with the paper. That was all he felt comfortable taking for now. It was much too early to start gathering supplies. Anything left out of place would definitely make the kid suspicious. For now, he’d just plan. Make sure everything went as smoothly as it possibly could. He wasn’t sure how he was going to get all the power tools and steel he’d need down to the basement without being noticed, but there was no point freaking out about it now. He’d figure out logistics later. He could pull this off. He was going to pull this off. He had no other choice.

By the time the first pink rays of light had breached the horizon, he was back in the cell. The paperclip made a perfectly serviceable lockpick to latch the door behind him. Like nothing ever happened.

He curled up in his nest of blankets, trying to hold his eye open. Hoping to ward off the dreams a little longer. But eventually his exhaustion won the battle. His eye slid shut.

Maybe the next dream would at least be over quick.

—-

Bill’s wish came true. As soon as he jolted awake, he regretted making it. It felt like he’d been yanked out of a tar pit by his eyelashes, but his brain stayed behind. His head, chest and eye socket all felt like they were stuffed with wet cotton, and his bones were shaking with this sudden painful chill. His thoughts were so slow and muffled that it took a second for him to even realize that someone was staring him right in the face. He lurched away and fell backwards off the beanbag.

Mabel poked her head over the beanbag and beamed down at where he lay on the floor in a tangle of blankets. “Morning!” she said in a bright half-whisper. “How’d you sleep?”

Bill glared up at her with silent disdain. After a moment, she seemed to take that as an answer. “Yeah, me too. Had a lot of stress dreams. Anyway, time to figure some stuff out.”

She disappeared from view for a moment, then reappeared at his side with a fuzzy pink notebook and a chunky pink pen with a glittery pom-pom topper. She leafed through the book for a minute, then looked up at Bill. “You ok?”

“I’M DYING,” Bill croaked. It was barely hyperbole. That freezing, sinking pain just kept getting worse. Every second he kept his eye open, it felt like gravity increased tenfold.

Mabel hissed through her teeth. “Hold on a second.” She vanished from view again, then popped back in with a mason jar full of what looked like the fluid from inside a neon pink glowstick. She propped him upright and shoved it into his hands. “Drink this.”

Bill ought to have been at least a little suspicious of a drink presented so vaguely. But a billion years of drinking cocktails made from substances meant to power quantum reactions, combined with the weight of sheer exhaustion muffling all his thoughts, meant that he barely hesitated before lifting the jar to his eyelids and taking a gulp.

A second later, his eye shot wide open. “WHOA!” he shouted, blinking rapidly.

“Ooh, I might’ve put too many pop rocks in that batch,” Mabel said. She grabbed the jar and shook it, sending frozen fruit shapes and plastic dinosaurs clattering around in a glittery whirlpool. “Mixing it usually helps. Dipper keeps telling me to warn people before I give them this stuff—”

Bill grabbed the jar back. He took an approving glance at the crazy-looking drink— now that his brain was working, he could fully appreciate the vibe— and then knocked back another mouthful. A rush of energy buzzed through his brain, setting his neurons alight like christmas lights hooked up to a nuclear reactor. The dangerously sugary concoction stung the inside of his mouth like acid, but this was a fun kind of pain. “OH, THIS IS PHENOMENAL.”

Mabel’s face lit up. “You like it??”

“DO I?!” One more swig and the jar was empty, and Bill was actually bouncing in place a little. “I FEEL LIKE A WHOLE NEW TRIANGLE! WHAT IS THAT?!”

“It’s Mabel Juice!” she beamed. “My own personal secret recipe! It’s so secret, not even I know what the secret is! Seriously, I hardly ever write the ingredients down.”

Bill laughed. “WELL, COLOR ME IMPRESSED, KID! I HAVEN’T HAD A DRINK THAT GOOD SINCE THAT BATTERY ACID DAQUIRI I MIXED BACK IN THE ‘30s. AND THIS ONE DIDN’T EVEN DISSOLVE MY STOMACH!”

Mabel’s smile dropped for a second, then returned. “I’ll take that as a compliment!” she said proudly. “I’ll bring more down later. I’ve got a million different brews you can try! The others don’t drink much of it, they always complain about how there’s ‘so much sugar’ and it ‘burns their mouths’ or whatever…”

“HEY, THEIR LOSS! I’LL TAKE IT OFF YOUR HANDS! EXTRA BURNING ON THE SIDE, IF YOU’VE GOT IT,” Bill offered. He had to hand it to the kid; she made pouring on the charm pretty easy. In a better world, he would’ve hired her as a barista in the Fearamid.

Mabel grinned, but then her face froze. From somewhere upstairs, the familiar sound of heavy, clomping footsteps rang through the ceiling.

Bill froze in place too, his eye locked on the ceiling. His teeth clenched tight behind his eye socket as he tried to repress his anger. Like a favorite song after you set it as your morning alarm, that sound made his blood boil on contact.

“Grunkle Ford’s up,” Mabel whispered. Bill glanced over to see her watching the ceiling too. “I thought he’d at least sleep ‘til five…”

“RISKY GAMBLE THERE,” Bill muttered. “FORD DOESN’T HAVE A SLEEP SCHEDULE, HE JUST WORKS ‘TIL HE KEELS OVER.”

“He’s working on it,” Mabel said defensively. Maybe Bill hadn’t kept all the derision out of his voice. He kept his mouth shut, just to be safe.

“Okay. Alright. This is fine.” The kid was clearly reassuring herself more than him. “He shouldn’t hear us down here. Nobody heard you screaming your head off the other day, they shouldn’t hear us just talking… we should be fine for now. As long as he doesn’t wander down here and happen to just randomly get close to this room. Or wander upstairs to his office and pass our bedroom and happen to look in and notice I’m not there. So as long as he stays on the exact floor he’s on now, we’ll be okay…”

“KID, RELAX. YOU SOUND LIKE PINETREE,” Bill laughed. “WITH HOW LOUD THOSE STEPS ARE, WE’LL HAVE A TON OF WARNING IF HE HEADS FOR ANY STAIRS. JUST CUT TO THE CHASE SO YOU DIDN’T WAKE ME UP FOR NOTHING.”

She shot another worried glance at the ceiling, then nodded. “Okay. Sure. The chase… hold on.” She grabbed her notepad and pen again, then started rooting around for something else in the backpack she’d brought. “The Chase, part one. Secret messages. Ooh, that’s good.” She opened the book and labeled the first page with that title. Bill bit his tongue to stop himself from pointing out that huge pink bubble letters weren’t the best choice for subtlety.

“Now,” she said, throwing the notebook down like a frazzled detective presenting her notes. “I would’ve loved to, like, build a two-way radio out of soda cans, or find a way to send smoke signals through the A/C system or something. But I think we should wait on that ‘til later. Right now, simplicity’s the name of the game.” With a victorious flourish, she revealed the thing she’d fished out of the bag. It took a second for Bill to parse what the battered old thing even was. A cell phone. An ancient, blocky brick of a flip-screen cell phone.

“YEESH!” he exclaimed as she shoved it into his hands. “WHAT ANCIENT BURIAL GROUND DIDJA DIG THIS THING OUT OF? IT’S OLD ENOUGH TO BE YOUR DAD!”

Mabel snorted. “Give me a break! It was the best one I could find in the closet where Grunkle Stan keeps all his burner phones.”

“WELL, I’D HATE TO SEE THE COMPETITION!” Bill remarked. “WHAT WAS THE WORST ONE, A CLAY TABLET? A BONE CARVED FLUTE TO CALL THE NEANDERTHAL TRIBE ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE MOUNTAIN?”

Mabel hid a giggle behind the turtleneck of her sweater. All according to plan. Jokes were a great way of lowering a mark’s defenses, even if they didn’t land. And despite her best efforts, Shooting Star was a good audience.

He held down the power button and marvelled as the dusty, scuffed screen actually lit up. “WHAAAT! LOOK AT THIS LOGO! THIS COMPANY WENT UNDER IN 2002! THE CEO BURNED DOWN THE OFFICE TO HIDE TAX FRAUD AND MELTED HIS EYELIDS OFF!”

Mabel clapped her hands over her ears. “Ugh!! Why would you tell me that?”

“BECAUSE IT’S HILARIOUS! THE GUY WAS A TOTAL LOSER ANYWAY, HE WAS TOO UPTIGHT TO TAKE MY DEAL AND COULDN’T EVEN HANDLE A WEEK OF NIGHT TERRORS BEFORE HE CRACKED—”

“Anyway!” She cut him off. “This was the only phone I found in the closet that could send texts. We need to be able to keep in touch, so you can let me know if you’re hurt or need more supplies, and I can warn you if people upstairs can hear you practicing your evil laugh or something.”

“WHA— HEY! WHO EVEN— NOBODY NEEDS TO PRACTICE THEIR LAUGH, THAT’S JUST STUPID.” Bill hoped he didn’t sound too defensive. There was no way she actually knew about that, right?

She just rolled her eyes, holding back a smile. “Point is, that phone is yours. Nobody’ll recognize that number. My number’s in there already, you can text me in morse code if you need something.”

Bill looked up from the phone screen to squint at her. “MORSE? C’MON, KID.”

“What’s wrong with morse?”

“THAT’S THE MOST BASIC CODE IN EXISTENCE! YOU REALLY THINK ANYBODY IN THIS HOUSE WOULDN’T RECOGNIZE MORSE WHEN THEY SAW IT?” he said. “YOU THINK THEY’LL SEE YOU ANSWERING TEXTS IN MORSE FROM SOME RANDOM NUMBER AND HAVE ANY OTHER THOUGHT BESIDES ‘SHE’S HIDING SOMETHING’?”

Mabel sighed. “Okay, fine, Mr. Code Snob. What should we use?”

“WE SHOULDN’T ‘USE’ ANYTHING. WE JUST KEEP THINGS VAGUE AND SIMPLE,” he said. “ANYTHING THAT EVEN LOOKS LIKE IT MIGHT BE CODE WILL JUST GET PEOPLE’S ATTENTION. BESIDES, IN A HOUSE FULL OF CON ARTISTS AND MYSTERY DORKS, I DOUBT THERE’S ANY CODE WE COULD USE ON THIS THING THAT NONE OF THEM WILL RECOGNIZE. THESE TEXTS NEED TO BE AS BORING AND UN-MYSTERIOUS AS THEY CAN POSSIBLY BE. SO BORING THAT NOT EVEN PINETREE IN HIS SNOOPIEST MOOD WOULD GLANCE AT ‘EM TWICE.”

Mabel pursed her lips. “Spam!” she said after a minute. “Dipper and I get spam texts from random numbers all the time. We can make up a system where I know what you’re saying based on what you’re trying to sell me. Like a scam alphabet!”

Bill’s eye crinkled with his version of a grin. “NOW YOU’RE TALKING!”

Mabel grabbed her pen and started rattling off scams to list in her notebook. Stan had clearly taught her well, and between the both of them they soon had a massive list to work from. On the opposite page, they listed phrases to match with each scam. “NEED FOOD”, “NEED SUPPLIES”, “INJURY”, “FIRE”, “RACCOON GOT IN”, and so on. As soon as they had a workable “alphabet”, the kid insisted they start deciding on secret knocks. They’d just started to argue about whether “shave-and-a-haircut” was too uncreative, when suddenly Mabel stopped short and held out a hand. Before Bill could ask what was up, he realized what she’d heard. A voice from upstairs. A voice that was much too prepubescent to be Ford’s.

“Dipper’s up,” Mabel hissed. “Why is Dipper up? He never gets up this early on his own… Did he notice I was gone? Is he looking for me?? How am I gonna get back up without—”

“GEEZ, RELAX,” Bill said. “LOOK, THE STAIRCASE TO THE ATTIC IS RIGHT ACROSS FROM THIS ONE. JUST WAIT UNTIL HE’S IN THE KITCHEN…” he pointed to that corner of the house, from where Ford’s voice was now ringing through the ceiling, “AND YOU CAN SNEAK BACK UP WITHOUT BUMPING INTO HIM. JUST DON’T LET HIM SEE YOU LEAVING THE BASEMENT, AND WE’LL BE FINE.”

“I don’t like how much you know about our house.”

Bill pointed to his eye. “REMEMBER HOW HALF THE DECOR IN HERE USED TO BE MY EYES?”

“Yeah, duh. Doesn’t mean it’s not creepy.” She shuddered, and Bill tried not to laugh. At least the memory of his powers still inspired fear… but he didn’t want her knowing how happy that made him.

Mabel gathered up her stuff and headed for the door. “I gotta go before he notices I’m not sleeping. Soon as I get a chance, I’ll sneak back down and we’ll sort out the other stuff on my checklist.”

“FAIR ENOUGH. BE SEEING YOU, KID.” He couldn’t resist putting a little extra emphasis on that word, pointing to his eye again with a smug, half-lidded smile. Shooting Star was his ally for now, sure. But she shouldn’t forget where things really stood. He was the one who was really in control here.

“And I’ll use the We Will Rock You knock.”

“UGH, COME ON!” Bill protested. “I’M TELLING YOU, SHAVE-AND-A-HAIRCUT IS THE GO-TO FOR A REASON, IT’S PRACTICAL—“

“See ya later!” She winked and vanished through the door. The lock clicked heavily into place.

Bill glared daggers at the door until the sound of footsteps had faded away. Then he took off his hat and rifled through the lining, taking a reassuring glance at his folded-up notes. And the paper clip fastening them in place. That dumb kid put way too much trust in that lock. Did she really not realize the danger she’d let into her house? Did she really not know what she was dealing with?

His eye was drawn in by a soft gleam from deep within the hat. He brushed some fabric aside and stared at the fragment of his dimension. It caught the dim light in the room and threw it back much brighter, twisted into colors that didn’t exist anymore. It hurt to look at it with this new eye. He let his gaze rest on it longer than he should have.

Then he tore his eye away and shoved the hat back on. No, she definitely didn’t know. The fact he was still here— still alive— was proof enough of that.

#gravity falls #mabel’s guide to the power of friendship #bill & mabel friendship au #bill cipher #mabel pines #euclydia #milleniart #robin writes stuff

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starberry-cupcake · 3 months ago

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oooohhhh boyyyyyyyy Stuff Happened you folks, this might be obnoxious because there was a lot of exposition, let's hope I can keep it decent. As always, sending you all positive vibes in these trying times ♥

previously, in harrowcita del 9:

this happened

CHAPTER 50

30 minutes for emperor destruction, prepare the champagne

gideon is being taken by yandere twin to meet doctor reverend emperor john

she isn't very into that idea, but doesn't have much of a choice

doctor reverend emperor john is having a very important conversation with someone in the room, so gideon and yandere twin hide to listen in

and the conversation is with non other than not!dulcinea

not!dulcinea is being possessed

by commander wake

I ASKED FOR THIS IN THE PREVIOUS ONE

why did you need harrow, then, you dramatic asshat?

so, basically, commander wake's name is actually a couple quotes and lyrics to eminem's song from 8 mile

her name isn't amanda, it's just awake, etc.

I'd take amanda over eminem but ok

they said they are words that date back thousands of years, so we're in the future

I considered this, but not due to book reasons, just because one time I was talking to @lady-harrowhark about one time a barbie of mine was stolen when I was a kid and it somehow related to tlt, this was A Long Time Ago but I thought "what, are the books in the future?"

I have no idea if my hollywood hair barbie had anything to do with the books directly or if it was just some fandom thing @lady-harrowhark knows and I don't, but that planted the idea in my head

if it's a spoiler, don't tell me

but I didn't pick up any clues from the book until eminem

emperor's last name is gaius, which I knew from an untagged non context dashboard post

doctor reverend emperor john gaius wants to know what commander wake was doing in the ninth, because she landed there on purpose

and also is impressed that she's been a revenant for nearly 20 years and doesn't know how she got there

I think it's the sword

so, in come augustine and mercygirl

because now we're having a party

dr reverend emperor john says "Am I in trouble?" because he's the most punchable asshole in the known universe

and introduces commander wake with an evanescence quote rather than an eminem quote

yes, ok, I much prefer that, thank you

thank you, Fallen by Evanescence (2003) you changed my life

so, turns out that commander wake was in cahoots with these two lyctors

but things turned south and gideon the first was sent to kill her

she went to the ninth to break into the tomb

it always comes down to the tomb

ice cube barbie is very popular

so, I was right when I said that gideon wasn't conceived Traditionally

the eggs were my clue on that bit, the eggs on the notes

they were supposed to 1) use dr reverend emperor john's genes to 2) create a baby with his blood to 3) break the blood ward to 4) open the tomb

CONVOLUTED LYCTOR PLANS

but the eggs didn't work, so commander wake decided to birth gideon herself

when I said gideon was a demigod and used hercules memes and when I compared her to superman or whatever

I was more correct than I thought

commander wake called gideon "bomb"

this song could go into the gideon playlist @lady-harrowhark and I were talking about

because we didn't have enough lyctors at this party, in comes gideon the first

from battling the beast, which is what everyone was supposed to be doing, btw, just putting that out there

gideon the first will receive a lot of very clever, funny and amazing nicknames by gideon that I can't even remotely compete with

I vow to you and your prowess for nicknames, queen

gideon the first comes in, removes gideon's glasses from harrow's body, and slides them on his face

commander wake me up before you go go looks at him with heart eyes

and he shoots her

gideon, things were so much easier when you didn't have a family, girl

this is too stressful

everyone is surprised that gideon the first fought the beast, the beast ran and gideon the first is alive

I am NOT SURPRISED because HE WAS FIGHTING ALONGSIDE MATI NONIUS

and ortus, and protozoa, and martita

BUT, MOST IMPORTANTLY, MATI NONIUS

well done team harrow!!!

so, basically, gideon the first didn't say anything about the whole commander wake situation because he thought gideon was his

which accounts for my doubts the other recap on how I thought gideon wasn't Conceived Traditionally but there were doubts from gideon the first's side

gideon prime, gideon zero, gideon senior (all gideon jokes, not mine) says he was with her for about two years

so augustine starts explaining how they got dr reverend emperor john's genetic material through god apate major

WHY AM I NOT SURPRISED

IT'S ALWAYS THE ORGIES, ISN'T IT?

man, I'd rather not know the details, thank you

gideon the first also doesn't want to know the details

the emperor's bolthole wasn't as inexorable as it was advertised to be, turns out

it's basically a revolving door

ANYWAY

the emperor goes "so you killed her and the baby, right?"

IN COMES GIDEON, INTRODUCING HERSELF

"I'm not fucking dead"

and the emperor goes "hi, not fucking dead, I'm dad"

CHAPTER 51

gideon starts remembering childhood things like suffering and fighting with harrow and telling harrow that maybe she is the daughter of someone important and they don't know it

"You remember how the fuck-off great aunts always used to say, suffer and learn? If they were right, Nonagesimus, how much more can we take until you and me achieve omniscience?"

man, this is rough

so, the thing about the eyes

gideon apparently has AL's eyes

whose name isn't only Annabel Lee

it's also Alecto

the alecto everyone keeps mentioning in the fandom

so, this explains why seeing gideon's eyes was like seeing a ghost to these lyctors

also why ice cube barbie had gideon's eyes

THERE ARE A LOT OF THREADS GOING ON IN THIS BOARD

GIDEON IS CONNECTED TO A LOT OF PEOPLE

NONE OF THEM GOOD

the lyctors bring back what teacher said in canaan au, about them asking dr reverend emperor john to kill AL aka Annabel Lee aka Alecto aka ice cube barbie

apparently all of them (except for gideon the first) hated her and were low key scared of her and high key scared of what might happen with her around

they think the beasts are coming partly because of her

and whatever dr reverend emperor john did to resurrect her

the emperor says he didn't kill her, he "switched her off"

not successfully, because she's been sort of roaming around

mercygirl and augustine say that everything about this is very sus because what if he didn't kill AL??? and what is going on with the origin of his power???

dr reverend emperor john goes "you both do tend to go overboard on the foreplay"

mercygirl and augustine figured out that harrow's true cavalier had AL's eyes

but it was impossible for a baby to be born with AL's genes

however, it was very probable that a baby had been born in the ninth with the emperor's genes

because they had been planning on that to happen

albeit in a different way, without the human intervention

so, if gideon has AL's eyes but the emperor's genes

it means AL's eyes aren't hers and the emperor's aren't his

the emperor's weird eyes are AL's and gideon's eyes are the emperor's

because.......

he achieved lyctorhood without having to slurp his cavalier aka AL

I'm very interested in this potential situation if we get gideon alive again

but everyone else is pissed off because they had to slurp their cavaliers unnecessarily

yandere twin also decides to join the chat after this

and, apparently, anastasia had figured it out too

the ninth necro who everyone said was the one who couldn't become a lyctor

the one with a room unused

until harrow

the emperor's version of events is that things went off the rails in the process and he had to kill them both

augustine tells dr reverend emperor john to just stop already with his plan of destroying everything

and the emperor says that the man before his resurrection would have hated him to say that

mercygirl then goes "I'll forgive you if you tell me you didn't mean to kill my cav"

and the emperor goes "yes, I'll do whatever"

so he hugs mercygirl

and mercygirl

FUCKING DECIMATES HIM

SHE WRECKS HIM

SHE MELTS HIM INTO NOTHINGNESS

gideon says she's an orphan again while I'm giving everyone a party hat and a piece of celebratory cake

I'M SORRY THIS WAS LONG but we're reaching the end of this book!!! See you next time!!!

#luly reacts to tlt #tlt spoilers #harrow the ninth #harrow the ninth spoilers #long post #gif cw

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samkerrworshipper · 1 year ago

Note

Hi how have you been?💗 Would you maybe consider writing some angst for Alexia/Barcelona x reader where like maps and Ingrid start start to notice reader getting thinner and eating less but Alexia is so wrapped up in media and stuff that she doesn’t notice until reader faints at training. Then Mapi shouts at alexia and there’s some angst but it has a softer ending? ❤️

i remember everything.

alexia putellas x reader

warnings: eating disorders, pain n angst with a softer ending.

“Ale we’re losing her.”

Alexia hated a lot of things, winter, bad drivers, the colour orange, the Spanish federation, France, patchy makeup and cherry flavoured candy. The thing at the very top of her list though, was people telling her what to do. Alexia was the best player in the world, she was a force to be reckoned with, she did not need people telling her what to do with her life or relationships.

“Maria, she’s my fucking fiance, I would know if something was wrong with her, this is none of your business.”

Alexia was typing furiously at her phone, something that she seemed to always be doing lately. If you were lucky enough to catch her time for a few minutes, chances were her attention would end up being caught by replying to some email or text from her agent and manager. It was never ending, and anybody who had been a part of Alexia’s life before and after her had seen just how much her life had changed in the past two years. In this instance, Mapi and Alexia were out for drinks, trying to catch up but it was proving to be impossible with most of Alexia’s attention on whatever it was she was replying to this time.

“This is what I’m talking about, you don’t have enough time to talk face to face with your best friend, how does that prove to me that you have enough time to look out for your girlfriend?”

Alexia’s eyes rose from her phone, her fingers pausing.

“Maps, I know my fiance, I’d know if she had a eating disorder, I’d know if she was struggling, I lie in bed with her every night, I wake up with her every morning, I train with her everyday, I know her.”

Mapi’s eyebrow rose up at her forehead, it was weird for Alexia to meet her gaze, something she hadn’t experienced in a long time.

“When was the last time she was sick? When was the last time she burnt something in your kitchen? When was the last time your dog ran away? You wouldn’t know because every time those things have happened in the last few months she’s called me, because you’ve been out of town. You're busy, we all understand it, not everybody can be La Reina, not everyone is you, but not everybody is your fiance. Her smile that normally lights up the room, it’s not there anymore, nothing about her is the same anymore, and I’ll be damned if she dies on your watch because you are being too insolent to acknowledge it.”

Mapi stood up from her seat at the bar, downing the rest of her dirty martini and giving Alexia a final parting frown.

“Go home to your fiance and actually look at her, eye to eye, lover to lover, and try and tell yourself that she is fine.”

Mapi exited the bar, disgruntled by her failed attempt at an intervention with Alexia, the slightly older woman simply didn’t want to listen to her and what was Mapi supposed to do about that? Alexia was stubborn and bullheaded, but she was like Mapi’s sister, she was Mapi’s blood, more than anybody else. Mapi had no idea where she’d be without Alexia, possibly dead in a ditch somewhere. Alexia had been the fristr person to haul her out of bed on a bad day, drag her out of clubs when she was so drunk she couldn’t see straight, Alexia was tough love, she forced Mapi to live until Mapi herself wanted to live. Mapi was more than grateful, but she also wasn’t going to let the love of Alexia’s life slowly kill herself because Alexia was too consumed with her own career to even realise.

The drive home for Alexia was slow and stressful in a way she’d never experienced. Alexia in her heart wanted to believe Mapi was wrong, because how could she be right? Alexia saw you everyday, she knew you better than anybody else, and she hadn’t noticed any of the things that Mapi had been talking about.

When Alexia does get home it’s to a silent house with no lights on, something thats fairly regular for her, considering the abnormal hours she normally egts home at. She leaves her keys and coat at the front door, reaches down to pet Nala who she must have woken up because the fluff ball has major bedhead. Alexia pours herself a glass of water from the tap before cautiously making her way into your bedroom. When she does finally make it to the door it’s hanging open, you sat on the bed, the lamp being the only source of lighting whilst you read from underneath it. You look so peaceful, so perfect, that Alexia considers leaving, sleeping on the couch. But she’s too angry, too consumed with her feelings, too emotional to take into account how much her actions affect you. She figures that in the last few months she’s probably drifted from you more than she's come close, which is probably concerning considering that the months leading up to a wedding you are supposed to be in premarital bliss.

“You didn’t have to wait up.”

Alexia’s voice is even, she moves into your shared wardrobe, pulling off her slacks and crop top and searching for a pair of her pyjamas.

“How was your day?”

You sound so hopeful, so curious. This is the only time of day msot weeks that you get to talk to Alexia and when it’s not too late you try your hardest to stay awake, hopeful tat maybe this time Alexia will return your eagerness.

“Fine.”

Alexia finally finds her pyjama shirt and shorts and changes into them quickly before moving back inot the bedroom.

“O-kay, how are you, how was Mapi?”

There’s so much hope in your voice, something that Alexia hates. She lets her eyes roam your body quickly, discreetly, not in a way that would make you think she was trying to start anything. She doesn’t see anything different. She doesn’t notice the fact that you no longer wear short sleeves or cropped shirts anymore. She doesn’t notice that your ribs now jut out from your skin, instead of being covered by a healthy amount of skin and fat, how could she? She doesn’t notice the patches across your scalp that are now missing hair, she doesn’t know that you no longer get your period, she doesn’t notice that your nails are now brittle and crusty, something that you’ve come to hate about yourself, just another dot point on the list of things that you detest about your body.

“Good.”

Alexia’s one word answer hurt your soul, more than Alexia ever had.

“If you don’t want to talk you can just say that.”

Alexia doesn’t slip under the covers like she’d planned to, instead her jaw clenches and hardens, a defence mechanism of hers that you’d never manage to crack.

“What are you talking about, we’re talking, I’m just tired.”

Your face falls at her snap, your eyes falling back to your book and marking your page before dropping it down on your bedside table, a little huff leaving your lips as your eyes drift upwards to meet Alexias.

“Alright, you must be absolutely exhausted every single time we talk then.”

It’s bold, especially considering that Alexia seems to be in a completely rotten mood, but you can’t find it in yourself to care, because this is all she does and your becoming sick of it.

“Oh my god, I don’t come home every night just for you to make it seem like I’m a shitty girlfriend.”

It’s so Alexia, so Alexia to always somehow make herself the victim, somehow make it you who is the one in the wrong.

“Are you joking? You didn’t agree to come home to our house?”

Alexia moves herself further away from the bed, to the very edge, her eyes and jaw just as stubborn as each other.

“What do you want me to say? I’m tired, I want to sleep, not listen to you whine about whatever your fucking whining about, I’ve been in interviews all day and all I wanted to do was come home and sleep.”

Alexia was always in interviews, always doing something that was your fault, it wasn’t your responsibility to sort out her calendar, or to make her less of a good football player, it just happened to be the way the cookie crumbled.

“Okay, I’m sorry, I just had a really fucking bad qweek and I wanted to talk to you about it, because your supposed to be the fucking person I can talk to, but it’s fine, we can talk tomorrow, or next week, or next year, whenever your not tired.”

Alexia exhales, Mapi’s voice plays through her head, this is her in, this is her opportunity to not be such a fucking jackass.

“No, tell me about it.”

Anything you wanted to say, you swallow, it’s a hard job, but your suddenly so scared of Alexia, so scared that she’ll see you the same way you do, she’s never around to reassure you that you’re enough for her, and you honestly don’t feel like you are anymore.

“It’s fine, honestly sleep.”

You peel back the covers beside you, but Alexia stays still on the other end of the bed, just looking at you.

“You obviously want me to ask about it or you never would have brought it up.”

Alexia knows that it’s a dickhead move, but she’s at her wits end, she’s tired and your beginning to piss her off.

“Why do you make it seem like talking to me is a chore?”

Alexia has a schedule, and she figures sometimes talking with you is a chore, because Alexia doesn’t have time, some days talking to you is just another box for her to tick.

“How many times do I have to say that I’m fucking tired before you udnerstand?”

Alexia’s tone is so harsh, so angry, a tone she long ago promised herself she’d never use with you, ever. But right now every single rule she has for herself is being broken and when tears spring to the corners of your eyes she can’t help but feel guilty.

“If you’re so tired, go to sleep, I’ve told you that already, you’re starting an argument for no reason.”

Alexia cocks her head, trying to absorb what you’ve just said to her.

“Yeah, okay, whatever, I don’t want you fucking talking to me for the rest of the night though.”

Alexia never used to swear around you, or at you, but the part of her that was once so sweet and gentle with you is now gone, long forgotten under the facade that has become La Reina.

“Okay, I love you.”

It’s Alexia’s last chance, her last opportunity for redemption. You give her a few seconds, and when you get nothing in return your heart shatters.

“Please say it back Ale.”

Alexia’s face is emotionless, absolutely devoid of anything that made Alexia, Alexia. It reminds you as to why you are so scared to let people in, because of the damage they can do and the damage they can find. Alexia no longer seems concerned about any of those things, only concerned about herself.

“Alexia.”

She slips under the covers beside you, but her body and face is stock still, so stubborn, so hurt, so fucked up. It’s the final straw for you.

You pull the sheets away from your body, wrenching yourself up and out of the covers, tears streaming down your face as you rush into your wardrobe, pulling out whatever clothes are within arms reach and stuffing them into a bag.

When you emerge Alexia is looking equal parts concerned and shocked.

“Where the fuck are you going?”

In the moment, all you want is to be loved, feel loved, and it’s clear Alexia isn’t prepared to do any of those things.

“You need rest, I don't think either of us are going to get it whilst the other is in the house, I’m going to stay with Mapi for a few nights. When your ready to love me I’ll be there.”

With that you leave the bedroom, pick up your keys and drive into the darkness of the middle of the night, tears flowing freely down your face as the bleary night lights of Barcelona pass by.

It took every single bit of energy left in you to make it up the stairs of Mapi and Ingrid’s house, your knuckles pounding against their door until it swung open, to reveal Mapi and Ingrid, both looking like they’d just crawled out of bed and equally as shocked as each other.

It was then that you broke down, fat, big tears streaming down your face and sobs falling easily from your lips.

“I love her.”

There’s a silence so loud between the three of us as Mapi pulls you into a hug, Ingrid closing the door behind you and the two of them helping you into their house, pulling you into their bed and bringing you into a big hug. All you can do is focus on your breathing, in out, in out. Your hands tears at the broken skin and nails, you can’t manage to meet either of the womens eyes as you cry in their arms, they don’t seem to mind, they only tighten their grip on you.

“It’s okay hermosa, we’ve got you, we won't let go.”

You can’t do much more than cry, you're grieving your life, grieving your lover, grieving everything that you’d just lost in a matter of minutes. Your hearts torn to shreds, undecided about whether or not to let Alexia hold onto a breaking thread and risk the plummet. She’s given you absolutely nothing, no hope, no faith, no love and yet there she goes. She’s let you go. You're only feeling some of it, you know that there is going to be a day, not far away, where you're going to have to see her at training, laughing and smiling with your teammates, people who she’s loving through everything. You're losing her. You lost a version of her that was once so caring, who gave the warmest hugs. You’ve lost your 2 am conversations and your forever and always. You lost the person you’d promised you’d stay around till the very end with, if she hadn’t pushed you away, if she hadn't just loved you none of it would have happened. Alexia Putellas Segura was never yours to have though it seemed, she was for everyone else, the fans, the club, the country. Alexia Putellas was a thought, not a person.

There was a reason why you didn’t eat anymore, you’d become obsessed with trying to be perfect for Alexia, she hung out with models and super stars on the weekends, and yet you were just you. You were so unworthy of her love and attention that you couldn’t really blame her for falling out of love with you.

“She doesn’t love me, she never has.”

Maria hates it when those words leave your mouth, because it couldn’t be further from the truth, Alexia is just shit at showing you it. She knows that her bestfriend loves you more than anybody else in the world, that she would give up everything to be there for you, she just hasn’t noticed that you’ve needed that.

You sniffle into Ingrid’s chest, your fingers tapping against her thigh and your legs shaking from underneath you. You’ve never felt heartbroken before, Alexia has been your day one, and now it feels like you're just done, like everything the two of you have ever worked for together is just completely done.

“She loves you more than you know hermana, but she doesn’t deserve you if she’s going to continue to hurt you.”

Now that Mapi has you in her arms, she can feel just how much smaller you are, how much you’ve shrunken and how emaciated you are. She internally curses Alexia and her stubbornness, the world is so loud that Alexia Putellas has become deaf to your needs, to your happiness. Sometimes her best friend is one of the most impressive people she’s ever met and sometimes she’s just stupid, stupid for letting the love of her life feel so worthless and stupid for letting you walk out the door, something that could be the stupidest decision of her life.

You're positively exhausted, and it doesn’t take much of Ingrid’s back rubs and comforting Norwegian words that you don’t understand for you to be lulled into a painful sleep.

As soon as the two are certain your asleep the move you into the middle of the bed, Mapi looking over the top of you concernedly at Ingrid.

“She needs helps.”

Ingrid can’t find any part of her brain that disagrees with her other half.

“She needs Alexia to take her foot out of her ass and be present.”

Mapi nods her head, her eyes falling to your own face, even in your sleep you lok disturbed, your eyebrows knitted across your skin and a deep frown on your lips.

“Si, well if Alexia won’t then we have to, she needs to know she’s loved. She’s lost so much weight elksling, she hasn’t been eating or looking after herself.”

Ingrid nods, equally worried as her girlfriend about the health of their bestfriend.

“Get some sleep, we’ll figure it out in the morning.

When the two women wake to find you missing from their bed, it takes a search of their apartment to find you deep asleep in their spare room, neither of them question it. They make you breakfast, you don’t eat it, insisting that you're feeling nauseous. When they try to talk about Alexia you shut them down, you’ve created a mental fortress, one that Alexia and your health and emotions aren’t apart of. They invite you to stay with them for the foreseeable future, and you can’t find any reason to say no.

The following days leading up to the first pre-season training are all the same, you hardly sleep every night, sitting up late out on their porch and waking up at the crack of dawn. Mapi knows that your health is teetering dangerously, you hardly eat, you only leave the house to workout, you are a skeleton of a human being. Mapi doesn’t know what to do, you don’t care about anything anymore, or maybe you care so much that it’s all being numbed out.

It’s the first training session when everything turns to shit. She’d found you balling your eyes out in a change room cubicle beforehand, as soon as you’d spotted Mapi you’d pulled yourself together, terrified of being vulnerable in front of her. It only got worse though when you stepped out of the tunnel and onto the field, to be faced with Alexia, standing casually on the field, chatting with a few of your teammates. Your heart plummeted at the sight of her, the woman that you’d made so tired, so unhappy, laughing and messing about with your teammates. You pushed Mapi away when she tried to comfort you, walking straight to the sideline of the pitch to start your warm up. You made it through half of it, your body hurt though, in a way that it never had before. You only made it through one of your sprints before you were face planting into the turf, your whole body completely done. Your bones sunk into the grass, your body just giving up.

It was Mapi who made it to you first, flipping you over, her eyes searching your unconscious face. She knew this was going to happen, knew it was only so long before your body stopped letting you overwork it.

“Alexia.”

Mapi screamed at the top of her lungs, desperate to draw anyone's attention, specifically your fiance, or ex fiance. Everyone turned to face the two of you, Mapi knelt down on the turf, rocking your body back and forth as she tried her very hardest to awaken you, a task that was proving to be unsuccessful. The whole team rushed forward, Alexia at the front of the pack, collapsing beside Mapi on the ruf, taking your head in her hands and shaking it furiously.

“Someone get a medic, y/n, come on, wake up for me, get up.”

There was more emotion in Alexia’s voice than Mapi had heard in months. Mapi hated that it took you passing out for Alexia to care, and suddenly her protective older sister instinct kicked in, pushing Alexia away from you, taking her hands and distaching them from your unconscious body.

“Get the fuck away from her? She has to be unconscious for you to give a fuck? This is your fault, you let it get this bad, if you actually loved her you would have realised ages ago, but you don’t do you? You don’t love her like she deserves, you only love her when it’s convenient for you?”

The words bring tears to Alexia’s eyes, Mapi’s words awaken something in her, a realisation that she’s right, Alexia has given a blind eye to you and now you were seriously hurt because of it. She scrambled away from your body, suddenly overly aware of just how much she’d hurt you. She pushed herself out from the group, running away from all of them, running away from you, running away from her problems, running away from her life that she’d fucked up so badly.

One of the girls had called 112, clawing Mapi away from your unresponsive body as the medics tended to you, plastering a oxygen mask on your face that was far too big, sitting wrongly on your bony face. They loaded you up onto a stretcher, your cold body attached to more cords than you had extremities.

Mapi managed to fit herself into the ambulance with you, clutching your hand the whole drive to the hospital, praying to herself to let you be okay, to let everything work itself out.

When you woke up it was painful. Your eyes blinked furiously as they tried to focus on anything besides the infuriating white light that was clouding your vision. It took a few seconds for your senses to kick in, but once they did it only hurt more. The sound of constant beeping, movement and noise pollution crowding you ears. It was then that you spotted Mapi and Ingrid at your bedside, your eyes darting furiously between the two as the blood rushed to your ears to protect you from the overstimulating noise that was crowding your brain.

Mapi stood up, her hand intertwining with yours. She was trying to speak to you, but you couldn’t hear anything, your ears making you practically deaf. Mapi held your hand and it seemed to be enough, enough to tell you that everything was okay, or as okay as it could be. Slowly your anxiety slipped out from under you, and your hearing came back, allowing you to focus on what Mapi was saying to you.

“Hey sweetheart, it’s all okay, your okay, take some deep breaths for me.”

Your eyes darted to the IV’s and cords that were connected to you, the feeding tube that went through your nose and down your throat, the oxygen cannula that also rested on your nose, the countless IV’s that were connected to your arm, making it far harder to move your arm at all.

“What happened?”

Your words were choken, your throat dry from lack of liquids. Mapi solved this problem, reaching to your bedside and lifting a glass of water to your lips, you took tentative sips, the water soothing your dry throat.

“You passed at training, malnutrition and dehydration. The doctors think that you’ve been struggling with anorexia for a little while, that you haven’t been eating properly.”

Suddenly everything stopped for you, the words leaving Maria’s mouth making you gulp on nothingness. It felt like you were being choked, big imaginary hands wrapping around your throat, preventing you from saying anything in your defence. It felt like your organs were all eating each other up in your stomach, a uneven discomfort spreading across your torso.

“Nobody is judging you, you’ve been through a really tough time, what matters most now is getting you back to being healthy and happy. Barca is in full support of what you want to do, you have lots of options, inpatient, out patient, moving in with Ingrid and I fully.”

You didn’t want any of those things, you wanted Alexia and it hurt for you to admit that.

“I want Ale.”

Maria frowned at your words, she was still furious with Alexia.

“I don’t think that's a good idea, you deserve better then her hermosa.”

It hurt you to hear Mapi regard Alexia so lowly, when a few weeks ago Alexia had been her best friend in the entire world.

“I want to see Alexia, I know she’s here, let me see her.”

Ingrid stood up, walking out the door of your room and out into the waiting room, retrieving a particularly heart broken blonde from the room and dragging her into your room.

The way your face lit up when you saw Alexia made Mapi feel sick, she wasn’t going to let Alexia hurt you again like she had.

Alexia’s cheeks were tearstained, her eyes distant as they met yours. It hurt her in ways she could never explain, seeing you looking so lifeless in a hospital bed, you were conscious, but all life had been drained from your body, you truly looked like a skeleton.

“Mapi, give me and Alexia a minute will you?”

Mapi looked like she was about to argue, but Ingrid’s hand on her wrist, tugging her out of the room was enough of a distraction, the Norwegian woman closing the door behind the two of them.

“I’m so sorry, I was such a bad girlfriend-.”

You stopped Alexia grovelling by lifting your hand.

“You fucked up, you hurt me more than I’ve ever been hurt before. It fucking sucked Alexia, never seeing you and when I did see you, you were always on the phone or tired or not in the mood. I understand that you are very busy, and that you can’t control your schedule, I’m not having a go at you for that, you are allowed to be tired. I’m pissed off because I was struggling, really fucking struggling and all you gave a shit about was yourself, you don’t understand how stressful it is to explain what’s going on in your head when you don’t even understand it yourself. You are supposed to be my person, the person I can ask and tell anything and you didn’t want to be that and I detested you for that. I can’t do it anymore, I can’t spend everyday hating you, because this is what it does to me. I can’t live without you, but I also can’t live beside a version of you that doesn’t love me like I deserve. I want to try us, I want to try again, because if I stand even a chance at keeping myself alive and being happy whilst doing it, it’s going to be in your arms, but I need you to understand that, I need you to understand that you need to be here for me, regardless of what’s going on in your life. You know I’m proud of you, I’m your biggest supporter, so right now I need you to be that for me.”

Alexia nodded like a goldfish at you, more tears flowing freely down her face.

“How bad is it?”

You bit down on your lip, everything that made Alexia, La Reina was gone, all of her barrier broken down, so that the only person standing in front of you was your Ale, the Ale you loved so very much.

“It’s not good, I haven’t been looking after myself in a long while, Anorexia they say. They want me to go into outpatient or inpatient, or move in with Mapi. I don’t want to do any of those things, I just want to be with you, happy with you, with you there to look out for me, I just need you to commit to that for me.”

Alexia nodded quickly, her head shaking furiously as her blonde hair swished back and forth beside her head.

“Please, if you’ll have me. I’ll take time off, whatever you need, I’m here for it all, I’ll spend everyday for the rest of our lives making it up to you, I promise, please just let me love you.”

You patted down on the space beside you on the bed and Alexia hesitantly sat down on the space, hovering on the bed, making sure she wasn’t touching you, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable. You were starved though, starved of everything that you’d been missing the last few weeks, you reached out for her, pulling her to sit beside you on the bed, your head coming to rest against her stiff form. It took a few seconds to get her to relax, but when she did she lifted her hands up to your thin hair, carding her fingers gentle through it, trying her hardest not to notice the amount of hair that was falling out as a result of your health problems.

“I love you Ale.”

Alexia was so focused on you, that she didn’t even really hear the words.

“Ale, say it back.”

Your stern tone seemed to awaken her, she pointed her head down to yours, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead and murmuring,

“I love you mi amor, more than you will ever know,”

It calmed your soul, a part of your heart that you didn’t know existed finally resting, enough to let you slowly drift off on Alexia’s chest, allowing you to sleep better than you had in months. Alexia found herself following you, the sight of you finally relaxed making her so much more content.

That was how Mapi and Ingrid found the two of you, sound asleep on your hospital bed. Mapi was a little bit annoyed at how easily you’d forgiven Alexia, but she couldn’t find it to be mad at the Catalan for very long, approving of how happy you looked at rest in her arms.

#woso #woso community #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas #barca femeni x reader #wfc barcelona #barcelona women #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #liga f #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon #mapi león #older sister mapi leon #made me cry #love angst

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spenceragnewfics · 9 months ago

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spencer shower sex!?

I hope you all enjoy! Love ya💕

SPLISH SPLASH | Spencer Agnew x F!Reader | 18 MINORS DNI!!

TW: Oral (f receiving), penetration, usual smut stuff.

Word Count: 1.9k

Description: After a very long and stressful shooting week, Y/N needs a little stress relief and luckily her boyfriend, Spencer, knows just how to help.

Working at Smosh is one of the best things someone could do. The people, work, and fans are all amazing but it’s also very stressful.

The company is huge! So it’s obvious that it would come with stress but some people don’t seem to understand that. They think it’s all just fun times and chillness because you work at a content creation company.

As the main PA for the gaming channel, Y/N is a very busy person. She’s always running around getting things for shoots, lunch orders, helping the cast and crew when they run into things, and many other things.

This is a role she has had for a few years and loves it. She loves being able to meet new people, be creative, and hang out with an amazing crew. Plus, she gets to spend everyday with the love of her life, and boss, Spencer.

The two got together before he became the director of the channel but got to work even more together when he was promoted two years ago. So if anyone knows how draining the job of PA can be, it’s Spencer.

Who is currently watching his girlfriend help Chanse and Angela figure out the rules of the latest new game for Board AF. “So, you just have to be quick and clear…right?” Angela asks, confusion in her eyes.

“Basically, it’s a lot easier to understand as you play. Which, I’m so sorry you two weren’t at the practice game but you know how last minute cast changes work.” She says, smiling softly at the two.

Usually, when there is a new game to be played on the gaming channel the cast, who are going to be playing the game, sit with her, Spencer, and Alex T to learn the game. Well it was originally supposed to be Shayne, Courtney, Tommy, and Arasha but Tommy and Arasha had different things come up so Chanse and Angela were pulled in.

“I think my problem is, the overall concept is a little weird.” Chanse explains, unintentionally making Y/N die on the inside. She’s been explaining the game for 20 minutes but they still can’t seem to understand.

Noticing her distress, Spencer walks over, putting a hand on her waist. “Hey, honey, how about you go take a little walk and get a snack. I’ll try and see if I can crack them.” He suggests, squeezing her waist in a comforting manner as she looks at him sad.

“Are you sure, because I can keep-”

“I’m sure, now go before I make you.” He kisses her cheek, sending her off the set as Chanse and Angela shout apologies.

Pushing open the set doors, Y/N takes a deep breath as she starts her walk to her desk. She smiles at people she passes by on her short walk until she gets to the gaming pod. Her desk is across from Spencer’s, and under it is a little mini fridge. She opens it grabbing the leftover iced coffee she put in there from the morning and some random snack she had.

She sighs as she sits at her desk, laying her head on it. She doesn’t understand what is making her so stressed lately but she's starting to get annoyed with it. Her phone buzzes as she lifts her head up, reading the text from her boyfriend. She’s needed back on set so they can film.

Walking back to the set, she sighs when she gets to the doors then puts on her best fake smile. “Who’s excited to shoot?” She asks, walking in and grabbing her stuff. The cast cheers as she walks over to stand beside Spencer, he puts an arm around her waist and kisses her temple. “Are you okay?” He whispers, “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” He can tell the smile is fake but decides to ignore it for now.

The shoot goes well and without a hitch except for the usual silliness that happens in a gaming video, but that’s what makes the shoots so fun.

Once the shoot is finished, Y/N helps get things cleaned up when Angela walks over, “Hey, Y/N.” Looking over her shoulder, she smiles at the woman, “What’s up, Ang?”

“I just want to apologize for earlier.” Angela says, her face sullen. “What? What are you apologizing for? Don’t worry about it, sweets.” She assures the girl in front of her. Placing a hand on her shoulder, “It’s just been a very long shoot week, and things have been crazy lately. It’s not your fault or Chanse’s, be sure to tell him that because I can see his sad puppy dog eyes from here.” The two laugh and Angela gives her a hug before walking away.

Not too long after, Spencer walks over as Y/N sits on the new couch, her eyes closed as she tries to enjoy some quiet time. He sits next to her and she lays her head on his lap. “What’s wrong, my little kickstart?” Y/N giggles at the nicknames before opening her eyes and looking at his blue ones. “It’s just been a very long week and I’m super tired.” She looks at him with a pouty expression that brings a loving smile to his face.

“How about we head out early? The only thing we have left today is to do some editing but we can do that at home.” He leans closer to her face, “After we have some fun of course.” He whispers, a cunning smirk on his face that perks Y/N up a bit.

“Oh really? You think we can work that into the schedule?” She jokes and he rolls his eyes, “Come on, let’s go home.” Y/N slides off the couch and follows Spencer, holding his hand as the two get ready to leave.

Once the two get to their shared apartment, Spencer pulls Y/N in for a kiss as the door closes. The kiss is gentle and sweet, something that makes her heart feel warm. He pulls back after a moment, “Go get in the shower, take some time to yourself.”

“Aw, you don’t wanna join me?” She asks, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Do you want me to join you?” He asks, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want you to.” She teases before giving him a quick peck and walking to the bathroom.

Spencer waits until the shower turns on to follow her in, he takes his clothes off as he walks so that way he can go straight in. The bathroom is starting to get steamy when he walks in and the curtain is closed, hiding his girlfriend from his sight.

He moves the curtain to the side, his eyes are met with the beautiful sight of his girlfriend’s naked body. Stepping in the shower, he closes the curtain and wraps his arms around Y/N’s waist, giving her shoulder a gentle kiss.

“Took you long enough.” Y/N says, turning around so that her front is against his. “I thought you could wait just a bit longer.” He teases before leaning in to kiss her. His lips move gently against her as his hands roam her body, they move smoothly against her wet skin as she tangles her hands in his hair.

Moving a hand down, he slips it between her thighs and rubs her clit gently. Pulling back slightly, breaking the kiss, she moans at the feeling, a little of tension finally being released.

“Don’t tease me, you know I need this.” She practically whines as his hand continues to rub. “Just calm down, babe, you deserve this.” He says before gently pushing her against the shower wall and getting on his knees. “Legs on my shoulders, my little kickstart.” Y/N giggles as she does what he says. Her sounds quickly change to soft sighs as he kisses her inner thighs.

“Spence, what are you-” Her voice stops as he starts to suck on her inner thigh, using the same motion as he does when he’s leaving a hickey on her neck. “Need to make sure whenever you wear shorts people know you’re mine.” He says when he gets done with the hickey on her thigh.

Not wasting a second, his head moves to her core and a long strip up her slit brings out a long moan. Her hand finds placement in his hair as he works magic on her. The two have been together so long they know how the other ticks, what makes them feel best and how to get them to feel fuzzy.

His lips find place on her clit which makes her eyes roll back. He groans when her hand grips his hair, sending vibrations onto her clit, making her moan his name.

“Spence, please, I need you, now!” She whines, pulling his head away from her. His beard is glistening along with his lip and his eyes are looking at her innocently. “Please.” She begs and it’s enough for him to give in.

Carefully putting her legs back on the ground, Spencer gets up and spins her around. Spitting on his hand, he gives his dick a few strokes before sliding inside Y/N. His hips start slow as he grabs her hair and pulls her against him, “Fuck, baby.” She moans, the feeling of him going in and out hitting just the spot she’s needed for days.

“You like that? Finally being able to feel what you’ve wanted for days?” He whispers in her ear, his thrusts slowly becoming faster. “Yes, yes, yes. Spencer! Yes!” She moans, laying her head against his shoulder, giving him perfect access to kiss her neck.

“Don’t hold back, please.” She begs, needing more as she feels the stress slowly melt away. “Anything for you.” He says before speeding up his thrusts, the sound of wet skin hitting skin resonates in the bathroom along with their moans and groans of pleasure.

Sneaking a hand down, he rubs her clit with the same pace of his thrusts. The feeling of being full and the pressure on her clit starts to make Y/N’s brain feel fuzzy. A feeling that Spencer has been the only to make her feel. She feels him smirking as her legs start to shake from the feeling.

He moans as she tightens around him, making him see stars for a second. “Fuck, I love when you do that.” he groans into her neck as he continues his thrusts.

It doesn’t take much longer for the both of them to get close. His thrusts start to get sloppy as she starts tightening around him more and more. His hand speeds up on her clit as he nibbles on the sensitive part of her neck, “Spencer! I’m coming!” She screams as the knot in her stomach pops.

“Just like that baby, just let go.” He coos in her ear, holding her against him as her legs shake even more from the feeling. “I’m gonna come too.” He moans as he pulls out. Stroking his dick fast, he has it position on her ass as he moans out her name, releasing on the plump area.

A few moments pass as the couple comes down from their highs. Shaky breaths, water falling on them, and the two holding onto each other. Y/N turns to look at Spencer with a sheepish smile, “You know, for only one ball you do cum a lot.” She jokes with a small laugh. “Eh, you gotta compensate where you can, dude.” He says while chuckling before kissing her sweetly.

Resting their foreheads on each other, they take a moment to just enjoy being together. “How about we clean up and then go cuddle and watch a movie?” She asks, rubbing his arms. “That sounds perfect.” He agrees before kissing her forehead. Both of them feeling much more relaxed than before.

#smosh #smosh cast #smosh games #smosh mouth #smosh pit #spencer agnew #spencer agnew x reader #smosh imagine #smosh smut #smosh x reader

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kichikichiko · 2 months ago

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haiiii!! I’d like to put in a request for Boothill x an alcoholic mechanic reader who’s personality takes a complete 180 when drunk, like when the reader is sober they’re a really quiet nervous person but when they feed their addiction they turn into a party animal.(If I had to compare the reader’s personality to an existing character I’d say they’re like hiroi from bocchi the rock) also I think it’d be cute if the reader did things like maintenance checks and fixed up Boothill/his stuff from time to time :3

Moonshine

Happy new year everyone! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و sorry I've been gone for so long!

Also so sorry for taking this long to write your request ;; I had the biggest writers block in my life last year

Hope you like this silly lil fic of Boothill! (He's my favourite character good lord)

Pairing: Boothill x gn mechanic alcoholic! reader

Synopsis: Reader is an alcoholic in disguised, and your client (and secret crush)

Warnings: Fluff, Reader likes drinking alcohol, Reader is mentioned to be shy but takes a 180 on their personality after intaking alcohol, nicknames/ petnames mentioned by Boothil, not proofread.

Working as a mechanic is no easy job. Nights without sleep, days with frustrations. It just never ends! Of course you’re going to turn to alcohol for solace and comfort. It is only natural! You tell yourself.

It’s not like you drink alcohol as you work no no no. You grab a bottle of alcohol and drown yourself to the intoxicating taste of it after hours. During harder days, you’ll go to a bar during the night and get real drunk. Dancing to the live band, singing with other patrons, talking with strangers… all of that. Because of that, you always prefer to get drunk alone, where no one you know can see that side of you. After all, you were shy and quiet and always got the job done. That’s what your frequent and loyal client, Boothill the cyborg, thinks anyway.

Boothill is known to run into danger, Hell, he probably is Danger himself. So it’s not surprising he ends up with a few bad damages to his metal body here and there. He always comes to you for a bit (a lot actually-) of fixing up. It’s totally because he thinks you're reliable and not because of any other reason…

“You should be more mindful about yourself, Boothill. This is the third time you’ve visited my workshop in a week.” You grumbled as you fixed up his mechanic arm.

“What's all the fuss about sweetheart? My human head is perfectly fine, besides, this time it’s only my arm that’s in rough shape.” He grins which earned him a disapproving shake of your head.

“Still, that doesn’t mean you're invincible. What if one day your heart is the one getting damaged? You know how much work and stress you’ll put me through?” You weren’t yelling per say, you never yelled at Boothill, or anyone for that matter. But it was very evident you were annoyed and worried.

Boothill sighed and nodded his head “Alright sugarplum, I’ll be more careful next time.”

You hummed in response and silence ensued, only the sound of you tinkering with your equipment filled the workshop. Boothill looked at you from his seat. The crease of your eyebrows, the small frown on your lips and the sweat dripping from your forehead so focused on fixing his arm. Sometimes he feels a little guilty, for making you work hard almost everyday when he comes to visit you. He’ll never admit that sometimes he gets into real danger just to see you often. Small maintenance once a week doesn’t cut it for him. He wanted to see you everyday.

“Hey sweetheart, you’ve been working real hard today, how ‘bout after this, I take you out for a drink?” The cowboy smirked, waiting for your reply. He’s never seen you drink before, and he doesn't know if you do, but it’s worth the shot to ask.

You paused for a second, then looked up at him “You’ll pay?”

He scoffed at your question. “I’ll getcha as many drinks as you want.”

“Deal.”

★⋆. ࿐࿔

Hours passed, and you finally closed up your workshop. Boothill seemed to know the area well, because he decided to take you to a bar quite far from your workshop, despite there being a bar quite near your place. Honestly, you were glad for his suggestion. You were a regular customer in the bar near your workshop, and dare not make that known to Boothill.

You started to regret taking up Boothill’s offer for a drink, in fear of getting drunk and letting your “party animal” side come out. What would he think of you? Would he be shocked? Disgusted?. You shook your head. It's not like I get drunk with just one drink.. but the fear remains.

When you both arrived at the bar, you made a mental note to just have a maximum of two drinks.

You and Boothill sat by the bar (counter), “Heya boss, a glass of whiskey for me and..” Boothill turned to you, waiting for your reply.

“Sweetened mood for me.” you told the Bartender, who nodded and started making your drinks.

“Thanks for today by the way, (Name). I always know I can count on you to get me back to shape”

You smiled a little and shook your head. “Not an easy job having you come in so often, but no problem.” Just then, the bartender gave you both your drinks.

“Aw c’mon, havin’ me around has its perks, don't lie now sugarcube you love havin’ me around.”

You didn’t reply but you silently agreed, and took a sip of your drink.. drink number one.

The conversation between the two of you flowed so smoothly, like the amount of alcohol you started to drink. It was already more than two, and you felt your cheeks flush. But you didn’t stop.

As if fate was trying to push you further, a live band started to play, and the urge to dance along kicked in. You felt light headed and tipsy, but instead of stopping you ordered another alcohol and chugged it down.

“Woah there (name) didn’t know you could drink this much! Had I known, I would’ve taken you out back then!”

You slammed your cup on the table and laughed “I’m sure you would have, but I would have said no to your offer.” truly the alcohol was taking over your senses, because you felt yourself stand up from your seat and slowly swat to the beat of the song from the live band. Boothill’s eyes followed you and widened when you started dancing to the music. Your laugh, your smile, the red cheeks clearly intoxicated. This was the you he has never seen before, but he doesn’t complain. Instead, he grinned and went to the dance floor with you and started dancing along.

You smiled at him “Follow my movements cowboy, only if you can of course.” You teased.

“Is that a challenge, sugarplum?” The said cowboy teased back.

“Depends on how you take it.”

The atmosphere of the bar became more lively, dancing, laughing and cheering along. Making you all the more hyped and making Boothill all the more attracted to you.

Hours later, the music stopped and the atmosphere dulled down to a calm one. By this point, the cowboy knew it was time to take you back.

“You sure caught me by surprise, (name).” He chuckled, carrying your sleeping figure back to your place.

Though you couldn’t hear him, he continued. “I hope you’ll show me this side of you again, sweetheart.”

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺

Masterlist

Requesting

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai fanfic #boothill honkai star rail #boothill x reader #hsr boothill #boothill x you #hsr x you #hsr fluff #hsr headcanons #hsr x reader

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