#BUT I HAVE TO FINISH EVERYTHING ELSE FIRST

[impactrueno]

Beetlejuice clearly wasn't interested in Lydia when they met, so when do you think he actually fell for her? Was he so impressed by Lydia defeating him that he developed a little crush?

i think this might be the biggest thing i've been turning around in my head since the sequel dropped. how did bro get to this point. i need to know. you weren't like this where we left off, what happened during that huge time gap????

this is where canon ends and conjecture begins, you just have to theorize and fill in the gaps yourself with whatever makes the most sense to you, which is what i've been trying to do this whole time. so please bear with me here.

i don't know how much i want share or save for my comics because i don't know how much he would actually reveal about this but whatever we ball

edit: ok so i scrolled back up to this after finishing writing this and as it turns out i have no self control and i ended up sharing everything that crossed my mind. craziest stream of consciousness i've ever written down. strap on and keep your limbs inside the ride at all times. whatever. we BALL.

let's review their first encounter from his point of view:

you're hired to scare the deetzes, right? so you do just that. excellently you might add. just when you're about to terrorize their teenage daughter, barbara banishes you and the party is over. what fucking losers right? you get the sense that adam and barbara care about this girl so you make some remark about her and it pisses them off. haha. also whoa where did this place come from? damn adam, who could've guessed he had it in him. you forget about everything else and dance your way to dante's inferno room.

after spending a respectably tasteful evening with those ladies, you're chill now. relaxing under your little sun lamp to work on your tan.

someone walks in looking for adam and barbara. don't they know they're dead?

"are you a ghost too?"

"i'm the ghost with the most, babe."

hold on a sec, who's even—

...well hey. it's the girl.

the girl who can see ghosts, and she's talking to you.

target acquired. this one's your ticket out of this hellhole.

"you look like somebody i can relate to," you tell her. relate how? doesn't matter. you're ensnaring her with your affable demeanor like you always do, make people feel like you're pals with them first and foremost. she seems like a nice girl, so this should be easy. you tell her upfront that you want to get out of there and you need her help to do so.

"i want to get in," she says.

whoa there.

what? she wants to get in? she says that in response to you saying that you wanted out. she really has no idea what it's like on the other side, huh. but shit, that kinda stops you in your tracks a bit. this girl wants to die. this young? that's not right. makes no sense.

"...why?"

she just looks at you and says nothing. jesus. ok maybe it's none of your business so let's back it up. you're losing control of the conversation and you're on a mission here. you figure if she helps you get out, you might as well talk her off that ledge or show her how shitty it is on the other side or somethin'. frankly, you can't afford to care right now. you're not entirely sure why she thinks things would be better on the side you're so desperate to get out of, but alright. doesn't matter, right now you gotta get her to summon you. so you begin your little game of charades.

after she correctly guesses your name and almost says it a third time, she recognizes you as the snake that terrorized her family. god fucking dammit. you're losing her. you're getting impatient. your affable act is over. "nah...i want to talk to barbara," she says and now she's REALLY getting on your nerves because fuck barbara, fuck adam, you're SO CLOSE to getting out and you're not gonna let this go now, go go GO GO SAY IIIIIIITTTTTTT

adam and barbara walk in because of course they do. womp womp

ok well that didn't work, but you're not gonna give up so easily. sooner or later another opportunity will come and soon you will be free.

wait why are they moving the model— where are they taking it—

ooohhhhh. business meeting. get a load of these yuppies, trying to turn winter river into a town-sized Ripley's Believe it or Not. a talking marcel marceau statue? and you thought you were a con man. no wonder the deetz girl wants to die, it's bleak as hell here too. but if you get out...you can fix that. hell, you can fix anything.

these bozos are here to see some ghosts, but the girl says they're not going to show up unless the fleshbags stop making a mockery out of the whole thing and that maybe they can all live happy together in the house. ain't that sweet.

of course no one's taking her seriously. she's a kid, what does she know, right? they'd rather listen to the most obnoxious guy in the room (besides yourself) who has no idea what the fuck he's talking about, but somehow, he's got his hands on the handbook.

the girl panics, then immediately says completely deadpan "wait, what am i even worried about, otho, you can't even change a tire" and you're surprised they didn't hear how hard you cackled at that.

despite all that, they seem to have started a séance with their old wedding clothes. bad news for the maitlands. they're about to be dead-dead. the girl cries for them to stop, and these guys are just sitting there scared shitless. you're hearing everything. you knew a new opportunity would arise, so you wait, because this is the part where people remember how good at your job you are. they always do.

she knows you can help. you're the only one who can help. so here she comes. those wedding clothes give you an idea. plan B is now in motion.

well well well.

look who came crawling back.

she asks for your help, and you're happy to oblige, under one condition of course. after all, you don't do anything for free, and she's the only one who can help you with your problem. how serendipitous.

once again, you lay it on her, straight up. you want out. and a way to do it (thanks adam and barbara for the reminder) is through marriage with a fleshbag. you need to get married. a green card marriage, if you will.

she's immediately disgusted by the idea. you don't take that personally, of course, because it doesn't matter. she's just a kid and it's not a real marriage. she just happens to be unlucky enough to be the only one around who can assist you with this, the poor girl. it's a marriage of convenience—or rather, inconvenience—and you're not planning on sticking around because you will get the hell out of there as soon as you can. so there shouldn't be a problem, right? besides, does she know how many women would kill to be in that position? she gets to brag about it to her friends, what's not to like? it's a totally even deal.

the clock is ticking and the maitlands aren't getting any younger. she agrees to the deal. you win, at last.

she already knows what to do, so you sit there patiently with a shit-eating grin on your face, awaiting the three little B words. gloating.

Beetlejuice........Beetlejuice...........Beetlejuice.

it's showtime.

this is your favorite part. you love a dramatic entrance. you decide to show the deetzes and their greedy friends the circus they so wanted to turn this town into. horrible as you are, you're also pretty damn good at calling out other people's horribleness, and you do love an ironic karmic way of dealing with someone. for example tubby here thinks he can escape, but not before you change his sleek black suit into a tacky white leisure suit. the horror! this is why you're a professional at this.

you effortlessly end the exorcism and the maitlands are saved. a little pruney right now but they'll be fine. everything is taken care of, you have fulfilled your end of the deal like you promised. only one thing left to do.

"shall we?"

there's really no need to make a whole show out of this, but you're a showman first and foremost and as a 𝒥𝓊𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒾𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝒶𝓁𝓊𝓂 you'll be damned if you're not gonna let yourself have a little fun with this. everyone looks terrified. this is why you're a professional at this.

witnesses and reverend in place, you can finally begin the ceremony. you're having fun, yes, but let's try to pick up the pace a bit, okay? the closer you get to your goal, the more impatient you get. the girl isn't finding any of this very funny at all and she protests. the maitlands butt in and are now kind of twisting your arm a bit, but you deal with them harmlessly, until they get on your last nerve so you send adam to the model and barbara to saturn. all of this after you honorably fulfilled your end of the bargain and saved the day. jesus christ, are you the only one with some integrity around here or what.

you forget the stupid ring. shit. you're pretty sure you have it on you somewhere, ever since you chopped up delores into pieces for poisoning you. you kept her ring finger as a trophy and as a reminder to never get married again, and yet here you are, but desperate times call for desperate measures. finally, you find the ring (still on her severed finger) and hastily tell your new bride-to-be that delores meant nothing to you. in case she even cares. she doesn't seem to. not even a chuckle? oh well.

almost done with the ceremony. almost there. you're holding the girl's hand with an iron grip to keep her in place as you're about to put that ring on her finger. "i now pronounce you, man and—"

a tiny car crashes against your foot and it catches on fire. you scream. a fucking sandworm crashes into the room through the ceiling. everyone screams. you scream LOUDER.

you're sent back to the afterlife waiting room.

not your first rodeo with a sandworm, but that doesn't make the experience any less shitty. the real annoying part is being in the waiting room again. this could take ages. you're number 9,998,383,750,000 and they're serving number 3 right now. you trick the guy next to you and steal his ticket (number 4) but he's not too pleased about that, so that didn't work.

a long time sitting here it is, then.

movie ends, credits roll.

for reference, that was 1988. winona ryder was 15 when they were filming in 1987 so while lydia doesn't have a confirmed age, i think we can safely assume that she was the same age as winona at the time.

36 years later, it's 2024. or 34 years later, it's 2022. we don't know the exact year because while bob's in memoriam credits scene says 2024 and all the interviews talk about how 36 years have passed in universe as well, there's this other one tiny detail.

jeremy's death passport says he died on march 11, 1999. jane butterfield says he died "23 years ago," putting the movie in 2022. they did film it in 2022 so the math is mathing correctly there. given that the in memoriam scene was more of a joke and jeremy's passport is a canon prop in the movie, i'd say 2022 is the canon year the movie is set in. (small sidenote; the passport also has the roman numerals DCLXVI which is 666. cute detail i loved it)

in the sequel, beetlejuice says lydia has been ignoring him for 30 years. i always thought that was curious because outside of this claim, they always specify how many years exactly have passed since. he doesn't say 34 or 36, he says 30. and for his degree of obsession (and the fact that he remembers exactly how many times he's watched The Exorcist) i think he would be counting even the days so i think he did really mean 30 years. so this would mean at least 4 years passed between getting sent back to the waiting room and the beginning of his stalking.

AND NOW that we established all that, we are finally getting to the answer to the question, "when and how did this all start?"

so okay, he spent a while in the waiting room. a lot of time to think. probably replaying the events at the deetzes' in his head over and over, how he got here, where he fucked up, what's he gonna do once he gets out. cursing the maitlands for ruining his plan when he was soooo fucking close. wondering what ever happened to lydia deetz.

lydia deetz, the young girl who told him she wanted to die.

...

is she alright?

i don't think he's capable of feeling guilt, but we can probably argue that he's not entirely heartless. what she said about how she wanted to "get in" must've stuck with him from the way he reacted when she dropped that bomb. she never showed up in the waiting room so he knows she didn't follow through with that. still, he used a vulnerable young girl for his own selfish gain. ironically enough, he knows exactly how that feels, because he also got tricked into marriage and got used for someone else's gain. the difference being that he dealt with that shit with an axe.

much much much to think about for mr. juice.

after years of ruminating in that waiting room, he's finally out and back to the regular day to day afterlife. definitely gets chewed out by juno, maybe forced to do community service or labor or what have you, he basically just needs to clean up his act now. this freelancing shit is becoming more trouble than it's worth anyway.

he's still wondering about lydia deetz. should he check in on her? maybe he should, he's too curious now.

at this point, lydia is now about 19-21 and in college. maybe he manages to sneak into the model one time she's back home for the holidays or something. and oh my god would you look at that, what a beautiful young woman she's grown into. she's radiant. she's happy. she's no longer that gloomy suicidal kid he met in the attic. seems like what she said about the deetzes and the maitlands sharing the house did come true after all.

that's nice. very sweet. good to know.

maybe he wonders if she remembers him and tries to get her attention somehow, give her a little scare for old times sake or whatever. for a brief moment it seems like she saw something and her expression changes, but she shrugs it off and continues on chatting with her two sets of parents. no such luck.

oh well. curiosity sated! and beetlejuice goes back home and doesn't return.

until the next time he returns.

and he keeps coming back to check in on her, telling himself he's just making sure that she hasn't killed herself or something. and he's not above admitting that with every year that passes, she keeps getting more beautiful. and to think they almost got married, huh.

he constantly tries to get her to notice him somehow, and sometimes she almost does, but ultimately he never really succeeds beyond making her do a double take. very rarely she does catch a glimpse of him. he's seen her mutter to herself that she's just seeing things and she seems a bit frightened every time this happens, but there's nothing to fear, honey, it's just good ol' beetlejuice. he won't lie, he gets a bit of a rush every time and it makes his dead heart beat faintly. he's gotten this far, he can't just stop now. in his mind, this has become their little private game of cat and mouse, where the mouse ignores the cat. but aren't they cute? he thinks they're cute. this is not creepy at all!

before he realizes, he's already learned everything about her. he knows about richard and even watched their wedding from afar like a loser. he knows she gave birth to a healthy baby girl named astrid. he knows they have a blast on halloween. halloween is lydia's favorite holiday, and his too. sometimes he can't help but see the three of them happy together and think it could've totally been him. even if he and richard are nothing alike (in fact could not be more opposite) and the circumstances of their unholy wedding were nothing short of grim and a farce. but in his mind, he's starting to convince himself otherwise.

maybe it's his jealousy speaking, but lydia doesn't seem to be that happy with richard despite everything. even though richard is like, the perfect guy. then one day his suspicions are proven correct: neither of them knows why it happened, but after having a long and emotional talk (that he watched with a bucket of popcorn) they decide to get a divorce. he pumps his fist, feeling victorious for some reason. sure he's a little sadistic at times, but why is this giving him so much glee?

the divorce is hard on lydia's kid, who was always more attached to her father, but they still spend a lot of time together. sometimes the three of them, since richard and lydia kept things amicable after the divorce. lydia tries to move on and see other people, but each relationship fails before it even starts. mostly because she keeps holding back and so fails to connect with anyone else, but also sometimes because, well, he can't help himself but to scare them away from her from time to time. it's fun. in his mind, he's just being protective of her, as a gentleman should for a lady.

then richard dies. fell into a piranha infested river from the looks of it (he saw him at immigration one day, don't ask what he was doing around there, force of habit after constantly making sure lydia hasn't killed herself yet.) it's devastating for both lydia and astrid, straining their relationship even more for the next few years as they both try to cope with the loss. the shock proves to be too much for lydia, so she goes to a survivors retreat to work through her trauma, both from richard's death and "unresolved feelings."

then lydia, at her most vulnerable, meets rory.

beetlejuice was able to clock him immediately. a textbook manipulative opportunist, he himself knows the tactics very well. swoop in to "help" someone in a vulnerable position, pull the wool over their eyes and begin taking control so you can get what you want out of that person.

he wouldn't admit it, but this really irks beetlejuice. you know when you see someone who reminds you of the worst parts of yourself, so you despise them? yeah. he's been there, and he's also been him.

but rory is somehow even worse than beetlejuice. see, rory is her manager, and boy does he manage to get on his nerves. he takes her phone. he controls what medication she takes. he blames and guilt trips her about every mishap that HE causes, making himself look like her benevolent savior and making her feel like she would be lost without him, confusing her with his psychobabble. on top of all that, he's forcing her to do this hacky show called Ghost House where she "hunts ghosts" or whatever. the houses he's been helping newly-deads with in his day job as a bio-exorcist (now with a fleet of employees,) she's "hunting" those ghosts now. it's so dumb. it never works. beetlejuice doesn't even know what the hell she's doing, she's phoning it in most of the time and she knows she's become a sellout. what happened to that "strange and unusual" girl who stood up for her ghost friends when those suits wanted to profit off of them back in winter river?

he needs to bring that back. he's the only one who can.

in his mind, beetlejuice has already rewritten the events that transpired. in his mind, lydia has been his wife this entire time, it's just, y'know, one of those open long distance relationships and she doesn't always remember him, but that's okay. in his mind, they share a psychic bond that allows her to sense his presence or see him in her dreams from time to time. he's got nothing to be jealous about, because other men can't compare. no one else can match what they have.

sure, part of him knows he's lying to himself a little bit. but he's already clung to this idea; these past 30 years wouldn't make sense otherwise. he's in love with lydia deetz. this isn't insane of him to say at all. and if it is, well, you know what they say, love makes you do batshit crazy things.

it's not that complicated, no matter what they say you'll never meet another me it's not that difficult to get my head around i'll never meet another you

the end

don't trick me into writing a fanfic again

[7ndipity]

“Just Breathe”

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: You're nervous about meeting Yoongi's parents for the first time

Warnings: angst/comfort, brief mentions of toxic family life, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to @vicky-chaos for this request! I hope you like it!

Masterlist

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The late afternoon sun warmed your back as you walked down the street hand in hand with Yoongi, the familiar hum of street noise around you a welcome soundtrack that you hoped would distract from the anxious thoughts that had been filtering through your mind all day.

Normally you loved going on errand runs like these with Yoongi, finding comfort in the mundane routine, but today you had found yourself unable to relax fully and enjoy yourself, even now fidgeting with the handles of the shopping bags in your free hand.

Yoongi’s parents were coming to visit for the weekend, and he had asked if you wanted to help him cook dinner on the first night so that you could meet them. You had been touched that he wanted to introduce you to them at all and had agreed to the plan eagerly enough at first, but inside, there had been a growing tinge of “what if?”.

If this evening didn’t go well, you worried how it would affect you and Yoongi’s relationship going forward.

Yoongi had noticed your growing nerves and had tried to reassure you that things would be fine, even giving you a crash course on his parents' personalities and interests to help make you feel more confident and give you something to talk to them about.

“-And Dad likes reading, so just keep conversation focused around that if you can’t think of anything else.” He finished as you were headed back towards where he had parked the car.

“Right…” You replied distantly, chewing on your lip.

“It’ll be fine, don’t worry.” He assured you, squeezing your hand gently.

You nodded, but you couldn’t stop your heart still anxiously skittering around your ribcage, seeking out escape.

“Hey,” His tone was much softer now, drawing your attention back to him with a gentle touch on your cheek, letting his fingers just brush over your skin in the same way that he did as you fell asleep at night. “Just breathe, okay? Everything will be fine. They’re gonna love you.”

You hesitated for the briefest moment.

“What if they don’t?” Your asked quietly, breaking his heart at how small you sounded.

He knew his parents weren’t the easiest to get along with, especially his father, but he had faith that they would see what a beautiful and remarkable person you were. He couldn’t imagine anyone meeting you and not immediately falling for your warm heart and infectious personality.

But no matter how many times Yoongi tried to encourage and reassure you, your anxieties over what could possibly go wrong persisted.

He knew your fears weren’t entirely unfounded; it was no secret to him that the relationship between you and your own parents was difficult to say the least, leaving you with more than a few emotional scars that you were slowly trying to heal. But he was not so secretly hoping that this might be the start of a better relationship with parental figures for you, that you might start to view his family as your own. He just needed you to believe.

“If they don’t like you, then that’s their problem and they’ll have to get over it.” He told you matter-of-factly.

“Yoongi-” You started, but he stopped you.

“I mean it, if they know me and care about me at all, then they’ll make the effort to get along with the person I love.”

Your eyes shot up to meet his in shock, making him realize his accidental admission.

“You love me?” You asked.

“Yeah, of course I do.” He said, trying to ignore the creeping redness that he could feel coloring his face.

“It’s just-, you’ve never said that before.” You pointed out, still staring at him.

“I’ve felt it for a while, I’d just been trying to find the right time to say something.” He replied quietly, suddenly finding the pavement very interesting as he scratched at the back of his neck self-consciously. “And it’s no big deal, you don’t have to say anything ba-”

“I love you too.” You cut him off.

His head snapped back up, his dark eyes filled with cautious hope.

“Really?” 

You nodded. “I always have.”

Before you could blink, Yoongi closed the gap between you, crushing you to his chest in a hug that nearly knocked the wind out of you.

“I love you.” He mumbled into your hair. “I love you so fucking much, and nothing anyone says can ever change that. Not my parents, not anyone.”

Your eyes stung at his words, trying to fight back the sudden wave of emotions that threatened to overtake you.

“I love you too.” You managed, blinking away the wetness in your eyes.

It was moments like this that reminded you of just how thankful you were to have Yoongi in your life, always willing to make room for you, to protect you, to fight for you.

After a long moment, he pulled away enough to meet your eye again.

“We got this, yeah?” He asked. “We’ll be okay.”

You nodded, a small, genuine smile creeping across your face for the first time today.

“Lets go home.” He said, catching your hand in his again and giving it a slight squeeze.

The two of you walked on together in comfortable silence, savoring the feel of the shared warmth of your joined hands, keeping away the autumn chill that tried to chill your fingers.

Everything would be okay. So long as you had each other to hold onto, you could face anything.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @feminympho @classicalelephant @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @bo0ghol @universal-travel-er @k4ngelz

[sasheemo]

C'è sempre una prima volta (there is a first time for everything)

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x Butch!Reader

Tags: One-Shot, Established Relationship, Strap-Ons (Rr), Frist Strap-On Experience (Rr), Smut with Fluff, Sexual Stereotypes, Mommy Kink and Praise Kink if you squint until your eyes hurt

Summary: You and Melissa have been together for almost a year and she wants to try something new in bed, you’re just taken aback by her request.

Word Count: 2.4k

Read on AO3

A/N: this was originally posted on 13.05.24 (AO3 only), but since I'm putting together a Masterlist, I decided to post it here too so that I could include it. This was the first fic (or anything really) I ever wrote , also english is not my native language so sorry for any mistakes you might encounter. I added some Italian here and there in the fic and you will find the translations in brackets.

You had just finished giving your beautiful girlfriend her second orgasm of the night when she looked at your straight in the eyes asking if this time she could use the strap on you. You were both lying on your bed and she was still panting and high from her orgasm, but she seemed pretty serious about her question. 

Noticing your surprised - and kinda worried - expression, Melissa asked you what was wrong.

“No no, nothing! Just to be clear, I’m not saying no … it’s just that nobody ever asked me something like that. I honestly never thought somebody would even want to have sex with me with a strap”

“Ma cosa stai dicendo?! (What are you even saying?!) Why would you think that?” 

“Well, I mean, usually butches are seen as tops and I guess in my case that is what was always expected from me in a relationship. When I say that nobody ever asked something like that to me I mean it. I always felt like it was implied that if someone was supposed to use the strap in bed…that would be me. And nobody actually ever behaved differently, proved it wrong or cared enough to talk about it I guess…” you replied plainly but with a hint of hurt in your voice

Melissa looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite decipher. Was it anger? Was it disappointment? Was it sadness? “Hon, I never expected anything from you since the day we met. It’s not about other people’s expectations, what you think you owe them, it’s about what you want. As for me, I just want you. All of you without any stereotype, expectation or limitation. Fuck everyone else and their opinions!”. You look at her lovingly, knowing she is telling the truth as you never felt any kind of pressure from her, from day one you could always be your truest self with her. 

You prop your head forward looking for her lips, but you notice that she doesn’t move and lets you come to her. Once you’re an inch away you feel her sultry voice brushing your lips “Now, do you want me to fuck you senseless with that strap or not?”

You instantly switch your gaze from her mouth to her eyes just to find two piercing emerald pools looking straight into your soul. That look alone could have you coming in seconds. Every. Single. Time. 

“Yes please.” a whisper comes out of your mouth as you lower your gaze

“Good girl. Now, we are going to start slowly and if I hurt you, if you’re uncomfortable or if at any point you change your mind, just let me know, ok? Guardami (look at me) and tell me you understand.” 

You finally look back at her and your stomach just drops. There she is, fully naked lying next to you. This gorgeous, fierce, stern, dominating and yet so reassuring woman. “I do, I understand.”

On that note she gets up without saying a word, takes the strap that had been sitting next to you on the bed for the past minutes, and proceeds to put it on. Still lying in bed you look at her. You have to admit the sight was just mouth-watering. It wasn’t the strap, it was Melissa wearing it and knowing she was about to fuck your brains out with it.

Once she’s done she hops on the bed placing herself between your legs, before starting to caress your sides, chest and abdomen with her hands. You ease into her touch as you start to feel her nails scarping down your hips and upper thighs. You whimper as moans start escaping your lips.

“That’s it baby, rilassati (just relax) and let me make you feel good.” with that she pushes your legs a bit more apart, while tracing your inner thighs with her nails. 

You start to feel that familiar buildup in your lower abdomen and wetness pooling between your legs. 

“Mel, touch me please.” comes out of your lips almost as whisper

“I am touching you” her eyes snap up at you and a familiar electricity shots through your body when you recognize that look on your girlfriend’s face.

You’re enjoying this, but so is she. Probably even more than you right now. Teasing you and filling you up with anticipation. 

“Mmm, I-I need you inside of me Mel…”

“How badly?” She asks in the sultriest voice while her fingers run up your thighs and down your hips stopping before reaching where you need her the most. 

You cry out at her stopping and move your hips involuntarily. “So bad Mel, please, just ple-ahh!” Air gets sucked in your throat when you feel her fingers sliding through your folds. 

“I’m afraid we’ll have to change the sheets once I’m done with you. You’re dripping now e non ho nemmeno iniziato (and I barely even started).” 

You knew she was probably right but there was nothing you could do about it. She was just incredibly hot and you melted under her touch every single time. 

You didn’t even have time to form your thought about what she just said as you felt two fingers sliding into you.

“Oh my God Mel fuckkk” you screamed feeling how easily her fingers entered you. Melissa started moving them at an excruciatingly slow pace. As if you needed any time to adjust given how wet you were, she was just teasing. 

Seeing how desperate you were, starting to move your hips to get more friction, your girlfriend got the hint and picked up her pace. Wet sounds and moans filling the room as her pace fastened more and more. 

You were already getting close when you suddenly felt Melissa slipping her fingers out of you. Crying at the loss you shot her a pouty frustrated look, just to see her getting up on her knees and centering herself  between your legs.

You started to internally panic a little bit. You were aroused as fuck but this was still something new for you. As if reading your mind, your girlfriend looked at you. Her glance holding a warmth that would otherwise be out of character in a not so new situation. You gave her a silent nod and bit your bottom lip in anticipation, worry and arousal. 

Just a few seconds later you felt the tip of her cock sliding through your folds, stopping just above your clit. You moan, still biting your lip,  and your hips start moving again. 

She slides her cock up and down your pussy a few times to spread your wetness around and on her cock, before finally aligning herself to your entrance. You prop yourself up on your elbows just in time to see the tip disappear between your folds. 

“Am I hurting you baby?” Melissa checks in running her left hand across your thigh.

“No, please keep going Mel, I need more.” you cry out almost ashamed at your neediness. Melissa’s worried expression turning into a satisfied and mischievous one. 

In one swift motion she fills you up completely. You are surprised at how this is not hurting at all, you truly are that wet for her. Not that you doubted it. 

With her eyes fixated on yours, Melissa starts moving. Her hands are on your hips as she pulls out almost completely before sliding back in. She does that a few times before picking up her pace and setting a nice rythm, which is unfortunately not enough for you at the moment. 

“Fuck Mel, more! Fuck me harder baby please!” you cry out trying to reach for her thighs, your nails scraping the sheets. 

You whimper and moan at the sudden loss when a few seconds later you don’t feel her cock inside of you anymore. You look at her just in time to see drops of saliva dripping down her lips and feel them landing on your clit.

You feel every organ you have dropping, not just your stomach. “M-Melissa did you just-“

“Spit on your pretty cunt? Yes I did, why?”

“It-it’s just s-” that’s how little you manage to say between moans before she starts spreading it across your pussy with her cock. 

“It’s just so what baby?” She’s looking at you with a lustful grin and deep dark eyes. She bites her bottom lip waiting for your answer while she keeps sliding her cock over your wet pussy. 

“It’s just so hot.” you moan starting to move your hips again . “Please Mel, fuck me.” you’re basically crying out now and her eyes turn even darker. 

Without you even realizing, she suddenly slams her cock back into you, full lenght sliding in even more easily than before. She starts pounding you at a deliciously atrocious rythm. The sound of her hips colliding with your inner thighs fills the room and makes you both wetter. 

“You like feeling me deep inside you, filling you up? Mh?” her voice cuts through your bliss and you just close your eyes to try and not come on the spot. 

“Mmm fuck … fuck … yes! Yes I do, please don’t stop!” 

“I want you to look at me, open your eyes. Now.” The emphasis she puts on that last word made you quiver and you instantly opened your eyes. 

You couldn’t avoid looking down at where her cock was disappearing inside of you and coming out glistening, just to be slammed back in. Again and again. 

The rythm she was keeping, the sounds echoing through the room, her beautiful boobs bouncing at her every movement and her eyes never leaving yours. Everything was building up inside of you and you felt so close. 

Your moans and your breathing were frantic now. One hand gripping the sheets and the other gripping the strap’s leather belt across one of Melissa’s hips. 

She knew you were close as she bent forward to kiss you hard. It was a very sloppy kiss, tongues swirling in between moans and pantings. She placed her hands on both sides of your head with her perfectly sharp white nails gripping the sheets. You scratched down her back with both hands making her arch and hit a spot inside of you you didn’t even know existed. 

She was looking down at you, red curls falling all around you as you placed both your hands on her hips gripping the leather harness so tight “I-I think … I’m going to.. c-come” you cried out looking at her, pleading with your eyes.

Her hips were on autopilot, pounding into you with an animalistic rythm. “Ask nicely bimba (baby girl).” she whispered with a smirk plastered on her lips.

At this point you just couldn’t talk anymore. You felt so full and intoxicated by everything she was doing to you. You knew you couldn’t come without her permission though. So you took one last glance at her cock going in and out of you so quickly “Mel please PLEASE let come on you cock, please I can’t take it anymore!” was the pathetic cry that managed to escape your lips. 

She smiles down at you before swinging her hair to one side with a swift motion of her head, just a second before you feel her right arm slipping between your bodies. Her hand reaches  your clit while she starts thrusting into you even harder. You weren’t excepting that, you didn’t think for one split second her rythm could actually increase even more than it had. 

Her fingers start drawing fast circles on your clit and your legs start to shake. “Come for mama pretty girl.” with that permission you just moan loudly and let go. You see black and feel your pussy clenching around Melissa’s cock as one of the most powerful orgasms you ever experienced rushes through you. 

Yet she doesn’t stop. She gradually reduced her thrusting rythm to accompany you down your high. Not stopping even when you reopen your eyes, flustered and panting. Now going deadly slow, she starts feather kissing your face before connecting your lips in a long passionate kiss. Her movements now come to a stop but you both moan loudly into the kiss as her cock is still inside of you. 

“I’m going to pull out now, please relax for me baby, you did so good.” She says before giving you a kiss on the cheek, lifting herself up and pulling her cock out of you. She removes the harness and places everything at the end of the bed before coming to lie down next to you. 

She perks up on her left elbow and starts tracing figures on your abdomen with her right hand. Sharp nails causing you to have goosebumps all over. You turn to place your left hand behind her neck, pulling her into a loving kiss. You scarpe the back of her head, slightly pulling on messy red curls, while you kiss her passionately hoping all the love you feel for her will be felt through that kiss. 

She kisses you back with the same intensity, making you feel all the love in this world. You part after a while because you smiled into the kiss and Melissa is now looking at you with an amused and puzzled expression. So you also perk up on your elbow, to be directly in front of her and look her straight in the eyes.��

“I never thought I’d let anyone have me like that, let alone enjoy it as much as I did. Thank you for wanting to try this with me. You’re the only person I’ve ever trusted enough or wanted to try this with.” 

Taken aback by your words, her mouth hangs slightly open for a few seconds. Her eyes light up with tenderness and emotions most people wouldn’t imagine Melissa capable of showing. 

“Thank you for trusting me with this and for allowing me to see you like that. You’re incredibly beautiful amore mio (my love).” Melissa says before closing the few inches separating your mouths. And in that kiss you both feel how special your love is. 

You stay a bit like that, lying naked with your lips on her forehead and her face resting on your chest. Bodies intertwined as you slowly drift into sleep grateful for the amazing girlfriend life put on your path. 

[bengiyo]

Ben’s Big BL Blurb 2: Fall is Finally Here

I am simply too busy with worth, family, other hobbies, and life to write about every show in real time anymore. I’m sorry to all the Stray Thoughts readers who’ve reached out about whether I would pick that back up, and I simply just do not have the time to do them anymore. Instead, I’ll try to do one of these as often as I can to catch up on things.

First, let’s go over some shows I finished recently that I don’t think I wrote much about.

First Note of Love

I was so happy to see Michael back on screen, and I was glad to see that he’s still able to get great chemistry with his co-star. Unfortunately, I don’t think this show was very coherent, so I didn’t get a lot out of it emotionally. It was a pretty inoffensive watch overall, and thus an easy show to put on without having to work through too much. I liked the work between everyone, and Mei Lei was such a fun character. Probably won’t return to this one, though. 

Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo

This is probably the show of the year for me. There’s so much I loved about this show. I loved that the characters had sex, but were neither rewarded nor punished for it; their sex didn’t solve any problems. I also really love how this show explored how childhood trauma expresses in two different kinds of boys, and I love that we got to see a bully reckon with his actions and get closure. I love that this show ended with them being kinda poor, but happy together. I love how messed up they both were about everything. I loved that Juyeong wasn’t stupid, and could read what was going on.

I clearly need to write a separate post to unpack everything I felt in this show.

Let’s move on to what I’m watching currently, in no particular order…starting with the lesbians, and then the worst BLs.

Apple My Love

Genuinely having fun with this GL. I like how quickly most of the drama plays out. It’s giving me quite a bit of secondhand embarrassment, but I like the characterizations in this show. This new production house brought us Knock Knock, Boys! and Monster Next Door this year. We need to keep an eyes on them. 

Haunted Hearts

I’m so fascinated by Oxin Films teaming up with Regal Entertainment. The leads are very attractive, but the cinematography is really boring. I’m trying to stay invested, but it’s kind of a sleepy watch. Also amused that they started airing a ghost romance right after Halloween ended. I’ve kind of moved on emotionally from the season.

My Damn Business

This show could be good, but it’s not. I struggled with episode 5 because our lead looked more relaxed and happier with his senior than the guy he’s getting into a romance with. There’s something missing here in this one, but I can’t exactly put my finger on it. I think it’s primarily a side effect of the short run time, but I think the boss’s interest isn’t landing properly for the employee to respond to. 

Eccentric Romance

This show could be good, but it’s not. Still, I am obsessed with a murder mystery being the primary source of confusion between our leads. I was willing to forgive this show a lot of its rough edges, but it failed to handle the turn from friendship to sexual/romance really well. I feel like our guys just started dating and having sex, and I’m a bit frustrated that they didn’t talk about it really at all, particularly since this show features two different languages spoken on screen. Genuinely looking forward to seeing how this one finishes. 

See Your Love

I’m not sure this show is exactly working that well, but everyone is very pretty and I’m having a decent time watching it. I like the way Shao Peng stands up for himself, and I like that nothing that’s happened has been totally unbelievable or unreasonable (at least with the mains). I’ll be curious how the hard of hearing and deaf viewers respond to this one once it’s complete. 

Love is Like a Poison

This show is actually so funny. I love that Shiba is in his own lawyer genre separate from everyone else, and I really like how the two of these guys have become a team. I’m curious how they manage to resolve the scamming next week, but this has been the most unexpected dynamic of the year. 

Love in the Air: Koi no Yukon

MAME won this year, y’all. We all have complicated feelings about her, but she’s secured a loving adaptation from a Japanese team that’s put solid effort into bringing her characters to life. Every character feels correct compared to their Thai counterpart we saw on screen, and that’s a strong sign that the writing behind MAME’s work is strong, even if we all have issues with the way she tackles certain themes. I’m really impressed with this adaptation, and really like this version of Rain.I also feel like this show is doing a better job blending the forthcoming couple focus shift.

Our Youth

We just got this show, but damn does it feel sharp! I’m always going to be a sucker for a cinephile character, and I’m so compelled by the way Minase is drawn to Hirukawa. The scene in episode 2 where Minase has to leave Hirukawa’s house might be one of the most impressive sequences we’ve had in a while, requiring a great deal of choreography and effort from the actors and the camera crew to pull off, and I’m excited to see how these characters split and then come back together. 

Smells Like Green Spirit

Let me just say that I need another Abe Alan appearance when he isn’t playing a character doing horrible things to his students. I’ve enjoyed meditating on the 90s with this show and what that era felt like. I’ve liked how the show has tried to focus on how different parents (especially the moms) have responded to their kids coming to terms with themselves. I’ve also really enjoyed the friendship that’s grown between Mishima and Kirino. I’m struggling with Yumeno a lot, because I’m really not a friend of bully romances. Still, I feel like this is one of those shows I’ll remember for a long time because of its focus on the 90s. 

Blue Canvas of Youthful Days

I think @lurkingshan covered reactions to episode 5 and episode 6 better than I could, and I loved @twig-tea giving context for the film history moment in episode 6. I remember screaming into the chat for friends to show up for this when I got to that moment. This show has two great pairs of dynamics going on that mirror well. It’s got such a strong handle on its characters’ motivations and how they would respond to the actions from each other. It’s probably the tightest thing I’m watching now, backed by extremely dialed-in performances. I will be thinking about Qi Lu organizing his potential first kiss with Qin Xiao, and how unapologetic he’s been about the entire affair. He’s being selfish here, but I kinda like it. I’m so thankful that we are somehow still getting this show, because goddamn do the Chinese actors deliver on chemistry sometimes.

Interview With the Vampire Season 2

I finished this with a friend last week, and holy fuck is this show still so, so good. We watch a lot of gay romance because of BL, and I am having so much fun watching the show about gay divorce. I loved the time we spent in Paris, Daniel’s shifting role in the narrative, and the new insights we got into Lestat this season. I will miss Claudia so much, and I have to give a standing ovation to Delainey Hayles stepping into the role of Claudia and doing the damn thing this season. I just love seeing my little fucked up gay people torment each other on screen.

I'm still thinking about Louis and Lestat reuniting in a hurricane after Claudia derided this as yet another chapter in their stormy romance.

Dropped Shows

Unfortunately, everyone can’t win. Some of these shows are just too long for me to keep up with them, and oftentimes I get bored. I’ve currently dropped:

Lovesick 2024 - I may go back. We’ll see

Jack & Joker - It’s just too long, and they just killed Jennie and a kid. I’m good.

Fourever You - I’m bored with Earth always playing this character type.

Pluto - Namtam and Film are beautiful, but this looks too messy right now.

Every You, Every Me - Wasn’t intrigued after episode 1, but the commentary may draw me back.

Kidnap - Ohm is not enough to keep me invested in this show. 

Uncle Unknown - How did they make a 6 minute show feel slow?

I’m genuinely not trying to be harsh to Thai shows out here, but I just do not have the time to keep up with all of them when they’re this long and dragging.

Thanks for stopping by, and let me know if there’s something I missed that I should check out.

[yan-lorkai]

Kicks the door open I have come! to request a Self-aware AU with the Twst bois. When they and the Darling/MC/Player/S/O switch bodies. However, the Darling isn't inside the game. So it's like the Darling waking up in the boys' bodies inside the game, and the boys waking up in the Darling's body in the real world. Thankyou very much 🙏👍🫂✨

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ a/n: self-aware au, my beloved. It was so fun to write this and I wrote a lot too 🥺💓. It took me a while to finish, so I hope you like it, darling!

Azul could always feel your presence through the puppet you control. He felt calm when you looked at him. He felt delighted at every laugh you laughed, and he wanted nothing more than to be beside you. The real you. He wished really hard for it to be possible someday, not knowing that this was exactly what was going to happen. Although his request was successful, there was just one error in the equation: he was in your body, your holy, beautiful body. Which means... You were in his horrible body.

While others would feel happy (and he really is happy to an extent), Azul feels a sense of trepidation knowing that you were awaking in his body and there was no way for him to check on you. Or could he? He tried calling his own phone but it wasn't possible. Resigned, he then took to explore your room and home and if you have any roommates / lived with your parents, Azul would try get along with them and collect information on you. While this isn't the ideal, Azul still has to think ten times ahead so when he take you to Twisted Wonderland (not a matter of if but more of when), he could make you sign a deal.

By the way, he definitely try to unlock your phone. And since he is in your body, Azul may try to unlock your phone with your fingerprint or your face if your phone has that function. If he is successful Azul will read your messages as if it were a magazine, he would see what type of songs you listen and videos you like to watch, what's in your history. Basically he is your fbi agent seeing everything on your phone, there's not a thing he'll not see. Good luck for you, reader. That's why I always I always delete my history lol.

Meanwhile you. You wake up on Azul Ashengrotto's body, the octavinelle dorm leader. Geez, are you dreaming? But everything is so real and feels so real. Jade and Floyd seems so real. And their voices, mocking and teasing, almost condescending as you tried your best to act like Azul. They seemed to know that something was wrong but neither choose to ask, brushing off as you being busy with a new scam plan. You were overjoyed but also anxious, without knowing what to do. Could you even return to your body at all? Only time will tell.

⠀⠀

Jade always knew that something was strange with this world, it was almost too... Surreal? He can't quite put into words the things he feel but everything was so much clearer whenever he could feel your presence when he was studying or riding his broom. He could feel your presence when he was cooking, when he was talking about this terrariums, when he was beating people who broke their part of the deal. You seemed to favor him, to love him. He could feel your affection seeping through your cellphone. And he wished to see you, to know you as intimately as you knew him.

And that wish became real. One day he woke up in a different bedroom, in a different body, then, while he is a little surprised, Jade just brush this off as something you did. Perhaps you wanted to show him your world? You wanted to show him your life? Or were you trying to show him something else? Either way, Jade is having the time of his life in your body. Though, as if he was mesmerized by it, he caught himself looking himself at the mirror to see your face staring right back at him. He looks like an excited kid making silly faces in front of the mirror. Honestly he is so unserious. Making faces and silly dances, and laughing because of it.

⠀

Floyd is instantly thrilled, if somewhat bewildered. At first, he messes around with everything he can find, marveling at your surroundings and taking a deep dive into your belongings — he finds it all so fascinating. He’s absolutely entertained by exploring your room, your things, and all the little details that give him insight into your life. But once the novelty wears off, his mischievous nature kicks in. He wants to know everything about you — what you like, your habits, your friends — and he’s not afraid to dig deep. Floyd starts exploring your social media, searching for anything that brings him closer to you and your world. If he finds anyone he thinks might be close to you, he’s ready to make them uncomfortable with cryptic messages or odd behavior, wanting to make it clear that no one knows you better than him.

Meanwhile, you, trapped in Floyd’s body, have to navigate his spontaneous, unpredictable moods and intense physicality — whether in class, on the basketball court, or during his shenanigans. He's having the time of his life while you are fighting for yours, even more when Azul send you to squeeze some people. Like??? How are you supposed to do this????

⠀

Silver always dreamt of you. He knew you, the feeling of your love and affection, the tone of your voice, even if when he woke up he forget everything. A blurry line separating you two. For a while, he thought that you were some higher being that he created on his mind, a simple part of his imagination. That is until this magicless student come around and your presence was all over them, controlling them, talking through them. He wanted to get closer, he wished he could talk to you, to bask on your presence. But he couldn't. He couldn't break his code. Not yet.

But when he slept that night something was different. He couldn't jump into another dream, his voice was different, his height was different, then when he inched closer to the mirror, he saw. A different face. And he knew instantly that it was your face. It was a very beautiful face, exactly how he had imagined. Though it was not what he wanted. He wanted to talk to you, to tell what he felt whenever your gaze was upon him. He didn't want to be you. Or for you to be him.

⠀

Riddle wakes up in your body, feeling completely disoriented and frustrated with the lack of control he has over the new, unfamiliar world around him. But soon, the shock turns into curiosity and then into obsession as he realizes he now has full access to everything about you, your routines, belongings, even your weaknesses, and insecurities.

Riddle’s meticulous nature drives him to organize your life, make everything as “perfect” as he can, so when you’re back, it’ll be clear that he knows what’s best for you. He spends hours exploring your things, setting up strict plans, and making lists, even going so far as to cut out people he feels are a bad influence. All of this, in his mind, is for your “own good.”

In Twisted Wonderland, you’re now bound to the rules of Heartslabyul, balancing Riddle’s strict schedule, navigating his many routines, and dealing with his high standards as you struggle to maintain his reputation without causing a commotion.

⠀

Jamil is quick to adjust, immediately masking his initial confusion in favor of stealthily gathering information about your world. He keeps a low profile, but behind that calm facade, he’s strategically piecing together every part of your life, figuring out who’s important to you and how he can stay in your life even if he returns to his world. Jamil moves through your world with subtlety, observing your friends and family with a quiet intensity, noting who to trust — and who to remove from your life. He’s ready to make subtle changes to your social circle or behavior, aligning your life with what he thinks is “best.”

Meanwhile, back in Twisted Wonderland, you’re handling Jamil’s carefully hidden responsibilities, feeling the pressure of his dual life between serving Kalim and managing his own ambitions, all while trying not to slip up and reveal your true identity. It's difficult.

⠀

Kalim wakes up in your body with sheer joy and fascination, his excitement overriding any initial confusion. He’s absolutely delighted to be in your world, taking in every little detail with childlike wonder. Kalim sees this as an opportunity to become even closer to you, and he goes about learning everything there is to know about your life, friends, and family, brimming with excitement to be part of it all. He’s incredibly affectionate with anyone he meets, happy to share his thoughts, and may unintentionally end up sharing details about “you” that leave people puzzled. He can’t resist splurging a bit on your behalf, thinking he’s treating you.

As for you, adapting to Kalim’s responsibilities in Twisted Wonderland is overwhelming, as you’re thrown into his high-energy life and surrounded by his devoted friends and followers. His cheerful, social world is a whirlwind of activity and expectation, especially with Jamil by your side, assessing every move you make with a scrutinizing eye.

⠀

When Ruggie wakes up in your body, he’s initially thrown off but quickly realizes the opportunity in front of him. Instead of panicking, he takes a strategic approach, savoring every moment as he explores your life and digs into your personal world. His tendencies kick in subtly but intensely; he’s not one for grand, showy gestures, but every action is deliberate, aimed at securing his presence in your life as deeply as possible, as he changes your wallpaper for fanart of him and enters the game to level up all his cards for you.

He begins by poking through your belongings, finding small things that give him insight into your personality, routines, and friends. Ruggie is careful to go unnoticed, learning as much as he can about your relationships and keeping mental notes about anyone he thinks poses a “threat” to his place in your life. He’s not above making subtle changes, distancing you from people he dislikes and reshaping your social circle to align with his preferences, but he does so with skillful subtlety — most people won’t even realize he’s manipulating things from behind the scenes.

If you have a job, he’ll blend right in, charming your colleagues and subtly gaining their favor, leaving an impression that makes it hard for anyone to forget you. He’s naturally resourceful, too, so he takes a look at your finances, maybe even setting aside a bit of extra money “for emergencies” (which, of course, he intends to use for things he thinks you’ll need down the line).

Meanwhile, back in Twisted Wonderland, you’re adjusting to the gritty pace of Ruggie’s life in Savanaclaw. His resourcefulness is evident in every little aspect of his world — from balancing odd jobs to navigating the intense social structure under Leona’s rule. You feel the constant need to stay alert, manage his reputation, and keep up with his never-ending hustle. It’s a life of quick thinking, constant negotiation, and clever shortcuts that keep you on your toes, giving you a firsthand taste of Ruggie’s way of surviving in a world that doesn’t make things easy. You made a note to dote on him when you get back to your body, he deserves.

[millenianthemums]

chapter 5 of the fic is here! it took me a while to finish the art this time. i know i said i’d put less effort into the pieces to avoid burnout, but they’re just so fun… rendering things like this is so relaxing fsr.

PREVIOUS

FIRST

————

Bill trudged out onto the mud soaked lawn, eager to put as much distance as possible between himself and this godforsaken house. Even the woods, still soaked in darkness as the first rays of sunlight failed to reach them, appealed to him more than the Mystery Shack. Knowing he’d been dragged in there while he couldn’t fight back, he’d slept in there, under the Pines family’s floor… just the thought made his skin crawl. Seemed like even killing him wasn’t enough for them. They just had to keep humiliating him every chance they got. Offering to “help” him after everything they did was just sadistic, even for him. He’d have to remember it for the next time he had an enemy at his mercy.

He had to get out of here. Just being here was infuriating. Plus, if the kid was right about Ford being up, he might get spotted. And chances were, Ford wouldn’t be satisfied with destroying his life just once.

At the thought of Ford, Bill clenched his fists so tight that his claws pierced into his palms. This was all Ford’s fault. He’d ruined everything. He’d drawn Bill in with that sweet, innocent nerd routine, acting all impressed and grateful, listening to his stories, laughing at his jokes, making all those stupid promises about eternal fealty and partnership, and then the instant he sensed a single drawback to their deal, suddenly Bill was nothing to him. One little misstep and suddenly nothing they’d done together meant anything, because it never had, not really. All he’d ever cared about was the perks, the knowledge, the secrets of the universe, blah blah blah, he’d never cared about Bill. Not even a little. Why had Bill ever fallen for it?! If only he’d gotten anyone else to build the portal…

He stopped in his tracks. The portal. This stupid flesh brain was going to be the death of him. How had he almost forgotten about the portal?! Sure, it was deactivated, but it had to still be there! Even if it was in pieces, he knew better than anyone how to put it back together. He just had to get it running again, just for a second, and then all his problems would be over! He could get back to the Nightmare Realm, grab his power source, and be back in business!

He hadn’t crossed over the stupid Bill-proof barrier around the shack yet, on the off-chance it might still affect him. Just to be sure, he stuck close to the outer wall as he crossed around to the back door of the gift shop. It was locked, of course, but Bill hadn’t forgotten everything. The birch trees near the house had given him plenty of angles to see where Stan and that dopey employee of his looked for the spare key when they locked themselves out. Sure enough, it was still tucked under the same fake rock nestled against the stairs. As quietly as possible, he eased the door open and stepped inside.

The place was as dark and empty as he’d hoped. Hokey glass-eyed chimeras, stitched together from whatever random taxidermy scraps the thrift store or dump had to offer, leered down at him from every angle as he crept across the room, hiding in the blind spots of the security cameras. This place hadn’t gotten any less embarrassing in the months since he’d seen it; if anything, it looked kitschier and dumber than ever. The random garbage being passed off as “magical objects” and the taxidermy crimes against nature weren’t even trying to look convincing, but perhaps because of that, they were weirder and more eye-catching than ever. As much as he hated to give Stanley Pines any kind of credit, Bill had to admit the sheer level of silliness and brazen, gleeful fraud on display was pretty admirable.

The vibe of the Mystery Shack might have changed a little, but thankfully, the layout hadn’t. The vending machine marking the secret basement door was still right where he’d expected it to be. Those chumps hadn’t even bothered to change the passcode. As he scurried down the stairs, the first genuine laugh since his resurrection began to bubble up from his throat. This was almost too easy.

The laugh died a sudden, violent death the instant he rounded the corner and looked out into the basement.

The portal still seemed to be technically there. Most of it, at least. But the massive, triangular frame had been knocked over and shattered into pieces across the stone floor. The metal was twisted, charred, every visible surface bearing scars and dents as if someone had spent months on end viciously attacking it with every available weapon. Not a single remaining component was unscathed; anything salvageable must have been scavenged for parts. The monolithic structure, this thing that represented millenia of planning and years upon years of hard work and partnership, now resembled nothing more than a heap of scrap metal. Torn apart. He literally tore the damn thing apart.

Bill felt his knees buckle beneath him. He caught himself just before toppling over, slamming a hand against a countertop and leaning against it. This couldn’t be real. Someone had to be playing a sick prank on him. They shattered it. They literally shattered his only lifeline, again. This was a torment he’d pass up for being too on the nose. He was laughing again, but there was no joy in it this time. He just couldn’t help it. This was all just too funny.

Still doubled over with laughter, he started grasping across the counter for something to break. Something to throw as hard as he could, or crush in his hands, or something. Anything. He didn’t care if he made noise, didn’t care if he got caught. He just wanted to destroy something. But of course, just his luck, the countertop was totally clear…

Wait. It was not like Ford to keep a clean countertop.

Bill pushed himself up and took his first clear look at the lab he was standing in. As his eye swept across the cavernous basement, a glimmer of hope started building inside him. Aside from the wreckage of the portal, the place was completely empty. Stripped right down to the floorboards. Squinting, he made out the vague impressions left behind where he’d disturbed the layers of dust coating everything. He was the first living thing to set foot down here in months.

Ford had moved his lab upstairs. Bill put a hand to his face, reeling from the shock of delight. Oh, that poor idiot. He’d ventured up out of his sad little cave to be closer to his precious family. And he’d left the remnants of the portal unguarded.

And why not? The big bad triangle was dead. There was no reason to think he’d ever come back for it. After all, with all that damage, even with Bill’s intricate knowledge of the device’s construction, it would take him months of nonstop work to get it even close to operable again. And there was no way he’d be able to sneak in and out of the shack that many times without being seen by anybody.

Unless he was in the shack the whole time.

Another laugh burst out of him, and this one was pure, utter glee. His old pal Shooting Star had come through for him again. She’d handed him the answer to all his problems on a silver platter, and he’d almost missed it! He’d thought it was too easy, that nobody would ever be that generous to somebody they knew would turn on them, who already tricked them the same way once… but he definitely wasn’t complaining. If Shooting Star really thought helping him was a good idea, he was more than happy to let her keep thinking that.

He’d need to make this convincing, he told himself as he snuck back out the way he came. He’d need to really sell the sob story. Make it seem like he had no chance at surviving even one day without her help. He’d have to swallow his pride a little– maybe even a lot. But it would all be worth it in the end. Shooting Star thought he was a helpless sad sack she could win over with pity, so he would play that part. Just for a little while. Just long enough to get the portal up and running. And then he’d never have to answer to anyone else again.

And he’d show her and her whole family just how far pity would get them.

-

After Mabel had watched Bill scramble out the window with all the poise and grace of a drunk raccoon, she’d trudged upstairs, face planted onto her bed, and passed out within seconds. She didn’t move again until after 1 PM, when Dipper helped Waddles clamber up onto her bed and she was forced to wake up or be crushed to death.

As the enormous pig did his best to climb up and settle on Mabel’s back, she wheezed in protest and flailed out from under him, slumping face-first onto the floor. She aimed a beleaguered stare up at Dipper, who looked entirely too pleased with himself, and said “Et tu, Brute?”

“Definitely not how to pronounce that,” Dipper said with a snort. “Waddles missed you. He wanted to make sure you were alive.”

“I am, no thanks to you guys,” Mabel said with a giggle. Dipper grabbed her hand and hauled her to her feet, and she cupped Waddles’ face and rubbed his big cheeks. “You’re not a lap pig anymore, Mr. Sir! You’re the size of a fridge!”

Waddles stretched out contentedly until his widdle back hooves dangled off the mattress, shoving his face into Mabel’s hands. Turns out farm hogs don’t stay adorably travel-sized for long; in less than nine months, he’d gone from fitting snugly in a backpack to almost being big enough to ride. She hadn’t convinced him to stand up with her on his back yet, but she suspected it was less about strength and more about motivation. He always just stared at her like “I know you have legs, bestie.”

In any case, his adorability had only increased as he grew. Mabel gave him a tiny kiss on his flat pink nose, and he oinked softly in response.

“I still can’t believe he even fit on the bus,” Dipper said, patting Waddles on the tummy. “It’s a miracle the bus driver let us bring him.”

“I think he was scared of us,” Mabel laughed. “Probably thought Waddles’d eat him.”

Dipper scoffed. “This guy won’t eat carrots if they’re too crunchy. He’s not gnawing through human bones.”

“I dunno, that bus driver looked kinda calcium deficient.”

Dipper laughed and nudged her shoulder. “C’mon, goofball, go get changed. We’re hitting the lake today, remember?”

—

That lake day was the best day of the summer thus far. Every day they’d been back here– except maybe yesterday– had been the best day of the summer thus far. They hadn’t taken a boat out; Stan and Ford both agreed they’d spent more than enough time on a boat recently, thank you very much. They just found a good spot on the beach and swam, and skipped rocks, and attempted a game of volleyball (none of them were any good at spiking the ball, and it devolved into dodgeball pretty quick), and just goofed around together like a normal family. After all the drama last year, it was just so unbelievably awesome that she and her three favorite people could finally just be a normal, happy family.

Eventually, the sun made its way to the other end of the sky. Mabel had brought her bike along in the car trunk, planning to ride it home just for fun. Once the sunlight turned orange and the shadows started to stretch, Stan pointed out that she’d need to head back soon to catch the last of the daylight. She agreed she’d rather not have to bike home in the dark twice in two days, so she waved goodbye to everybody, joked that now somebody else would finally have a turn to win at dodgeball, and set off for home.

If she had a choice, Mabel seldom preferred to do anything alone. Maybe it was just because she was a twin, and had spent her whole life with a teammate, a best friend who was always there to watch her back while she watched his. Maybe growing up that way meant she never learned how to be alone without feeling like a turtle without its shell. But whatever the reason, if she spent too long by herself, it started to feel like drowning.

But sometime last fall, she’d realized just how fast she could go on a bike. And suddenly she just couldn’t get enough of it, and Dipper, bless him, he’d tried his best to keep up with her, but his poor nerd legs just couldn’t pedal that fast. So she’d told him she preferred solo biking now, and he’d gratefully accepted the excuse not to accompany her on her daily rides.

She really did love the speed. Watching the trees zip by until they blurred into a solid wall of green, feeling the wind lift her hair so it flowed behind her like a tail, keeping pace with crows gliding through the sky above. It was worth a little solitude. And if Dipper knew she’d rather he go with her, he’d bust a lung or fall over and break his arm, or at the very least be uncomfortable and embarrassed the whole time. So it wasn’t a big deal. Really, she was fine with it. Right now, as she traced the twisting road up into the rolling, forested hills and toward the Mystery Shack, she felt almost completely content. Watching the clouds roll gently overhead, catching glints of orange and pink from the setting sun, the songs of birds and crickets washing away any pesky thoughts as she let herself be absorbed into this moment–

“AAAAAUGH!”

Mabel slammed the handlebars sideways and sent her bike careening off the pavement as a flash of gold raced past, just barely fast enough to not collide with her. She couldn’t look at it and save her bike from crashing down the steep hill beside the road at the same time, so by the time she’d managed to wrangle it to a stop, it was gone from sight. But that shrill scream she’d heard, the one she’d mistaken for a fox earlier, hadn’t gone away. And the road wasn’t empty. More small shapes were racing across it, chasing the thing, and these ones were all too recognizable. Her hunch was confirmed when one of them lost its footing and didn’t quite clear the brush at the edge of the forest. An antler snagged against a branch, and a tiny thing covered in sandy brown fur started screeching and thrashing around so violently that Mabel grabbed her grappling hook on impulse. Finally it broke free and joined the pack chasing after the screaming gold thing. Jackalopes. Dozens of the mean little things. And she had a pretty good idea who they were after.

She swung her bike around, and against her better judgment she biked after the throng of bunnies. Sure enough, she was proven right yet again. Just a few dozen feet past the tree line, Bill Cipher, the antagonist of most of her worst recent nightmares, was trying to balance on the top branch of a pine sapling just barely large enough to support his weight, as the jackalopes gathered at its base and leapt up at him, jabbing with their sharp antlers, almost but not quite able to jump as high as he’d climbed. Bill hadn’t stopped screaming since she’d first heard him.

This was certainly one way to cure a phobia.

Mabel jumped off her bike and threw the back trunk open. Frantically, she rifled around through her emergency supplies; multitool, slingshot, glowsticks, sack of ball bearings, fake gold jewelry for tricking fey… maybe Dipper was right about traveling light…

“ARE YOU PLANNING ON HELPING?!” Bill had spotted her, and most of his fear had turned into indignance.

“One second!” Mabel yelled, tossing snacks and weapons aside.

“OH, NO RUSH! TAKE YOUR TIME, NOT LIKE THERE’S ANYTHING URGENT GOING ON– OW!!!” He screeched; Mabel whipped her head around to see that one of those antler jabs had caught him in the ankle. Shiny silver blood poured from the gash.

Mabel wrenched the basket off the bike and dumped it out onto the ground. Finally, her target was revealed: an air horn. She raced toward the frenzy of rabbits and held it aloft. “Hey!” she roared, and just as the jackalopes turned their attention to her, she slammed down on the button as hard as she could.

A shrill, deafening honk crashed against every tree in the forest, filling the air with sound. The jackalopes, as one, all screeched in agony, recoiling from the horn and flattening their ears against the noise. A bold one bared its fangs at her, but she pointed the horn closer and kept the button held down, and soon every jackalope had retreated into the woods. Once they were out of sight, she released the button, and the world was just dull ringing for a few seconds, until her hearing returned with the sound of a sapling breaking in half.

She turned to see Bill lying prone on the ground again, painfully picking himself up. She considered offering her hand, then figured that would just embarrass him further, then figured she didn’t really care and reached toward him anyway. He glared up at her. For a second, he seemed to consider accepting it, but then he stood up on his own with a pained grunt, grabbing the top half of the broken tree and steadying himself on it like a cane to keep the weight off his injured leg. Mabel winced as she realized it was the same one Scout had gotten ahold of the other day. At least he had one leg that maybe didn’t hurt?

“...You okay?” Mabel asked, after a long silence.

His eye turned to stare at her disdainfully. “WHAT DOES IT LOOK LIKE.”

She stared back at him for a second, assessing. Then she looked away again, examining the trees. She could see that he could see that she could see he looked terrible. He was all scraped up again, his old wounds not quite healed yet and joined by lots of new ones. His legs were caked to the knees with dried mud, probably from a long day of wading through the river and falling down ledges and stepping in gopher holes. He was teetering in place, visibly exhausted. His hat looked almost spotless, like he’d been shielding it at all costs, but his bow tie was in dire need of a spin cycle. And his arms and legs were more bug bites than skin at this point.

She figured she should say something. Fidgeting nervously with her sweater sleeve, she said “It looks like you forgot bug spray.”

To her surprise, he laughed. It was a short, loud bark of a laugh, but it was a laugh. She looked back at him to see he was sitting on the ground, leaning his face against his hands. He looked up at her. “YOU GUYS REALLY JUST LIVE WITH MOSQUITOS, HUH. THEY’RE JUST… AROUND. ALL THE TIME.”

“Well, not in winter,” Mabel offered.

Bill laughed again. It was a little bit more like a real laugh this time; still definitely not happy, more numb bemusement, but it felt like an improvement. “GREAT!” he said. “JUST SIX MORE MONTHS.” He covered his face again.

Mabel looked down at him, watching cautiously. Her hand was tight around the handle of her grappling hook, ready for trouble, just in case this was somehow all a trap. Heck, maybe this was all part of his plan. Maybe he lured out those jackalopes and got himself into a second near-death experience just so she could find him and completely let her guard down. Maybe this was just a big, elaborate, 4D chess evil mastermind long con.

Suddenly he looked up and shouted “WHAT?!?” Mabel jumped back, and by pure muscle memory, her hand shot up to brandish the grappling hook. Unfortunately, her hands had gotten sweaty from all the excitement, and as the hook reached the peak of its arc, she lost her grip on it completely. It sailed out of her grasp, whipped through the air and hit Bill in the side of the face with a loud, solid CLONK.

Bill clutched his head where she’d hit him, too shocked to even yell in pain. Mabel was quicker to react. “Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean– hang on…” She sifted through her pockets and grabbed her bag of band-aids, and before even thinking about what she was doing, she was already kneeling beside him and pressing a starry band-aid over the bleeding welt between his scales.

Bill recoiled from her touch again, pupil dilated in terror as he scrambled backwards. Mabel pulled back quickly, raising her hands. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, throat clenched tight from panic at the thought that he might strike back.

They both noticed the grappling hook at the same time. It had landed in the grass right next to Bill, easily within reach. Slowly, to her terror, he picked it up and turned it over in his hands. She clenched her hands into fists at her sides, her last line of defense. Like Grunkle Stan had taught her: when all else fails, there’s always punching.

But he didn’t shoot her. Instead, he turned the grappling hook over again and extended an arm, holding it out to her handle-first.

Mabel looked at him appraisingly for a second, then slowly reached out and took the grappling hook from him. She returned it to its holster, and then hesitantly held out the bag of band-aids. “Your leg’s still bleeding,” she said softly. “You can pick.”

Bill sighed and accepted the band-aids. Sifting through, he muttered, “YOU GOT A LOT OF THESE STAR ONES, HUH.”

Mabel gave an apologetic laugh. “I like stars,” she said.

Bill let out a soft chuckle in return. After a bit more searching, he chose another star-patterned band-aid and handed the bag back.

“Well, uh… I’ll get out of your hair,” Mabel said awkwardly, starting to scoop all her supplies into the basket and shove it back into place on her bike. “I know you said you didn’t want my help–”

“WAIT,” Bill said. She turned back to look at him; he looked like he was about to say something he really didn’t want to say.

“LOOK,” he said. “I… I DON’T KNOW WHERE I’M GOING. I DON’T HAVE A PLAN, OR ANYWHERE TO STAY, I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHEN I’M GONNA HAVE FOOD AGAIN. I THINK AT THIS POINT…” he took a deep breath and forced the last words out with the air, “...I NEED ALL THE HELP I CAN GET. IF YOUR OFFER STILL STANDS, I’LL TAKE IT.”

Mabel didn’t know what to say. She was stunned, full deer-in-the-headlights paralyzed. She twisted the edge of her sweater tight in her hands, trying to ground herself. She knew this was a bad idea. She knew she’d regret it. But in some strange way, she knew there was only one way this could go. She’d made the offer already. There was no going back.

“You’ll have to stay hidden for a while,” she said. “At least until I figure out how to tell Dipper and the Grunkles. And you’ll have to stay close by, so I know you’re not sneaking out to do evil world domination stuff. I’ll help you out with food and stuff, but you have to play by my rules as long as you’re staying with us, or you’re on your own.” She stared straight into his eye. “And you have to swear, on pain of death, that you won’t hurt anybody.”

He stared back evenly. “I SWEAR.”

She held his gaze. This seemed way too easy. “You’re really not gonna stab me in the back?”

“KID,” he said wearily. “I WOULDN’T DO THIS IF I HAD ANY OTHER OPTION. IF I STABBED YOU NOW, I’D GO DOWN WITH YOU.”

Mabel took in a long, deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay. Just for a little while. As long as you promise not to make me regret this.”

“YOU GOT YOURSELF A DEAL.” Bill extended a hand for her to shake, seemingly as a reflex. Just as reflexively, Mabel flinched back, expecting it to erupt in blue fire like it did last summer. But it didn’t take long for them both to realize, with embarrassment, that things didn’t work like that anymore.

“We’re not shaking on it,” Mabel said. Bill put his hand back down, looking glad for the excuse.

Mabel finished packing up and climbed back onto her bike. “We should hurry if we wanna beat the others to the shack,” she said. “C’mon, get in the basket.”

Bill looked affronted. “SORRY. WHAT?!”

Mabel pointed to the front basket, in case that was where the confusion lay.

“WHAT AM I, A BUSHEL OF TURNIPS?! I’M NOT RIDING IN THE BASKET!”

“I mean, this isn’t a two-seater, so the other option is walking all the way there on that leg,” Mabel said with a shrug. “Which is fine if you really want. I won’t stop you. I’d just much rather ride on the bike if it were up to me. I’d be worried about being stuck out here after dark, and if the jackalopes come back–”

“ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT! I GET IT!” Bill clambered up into the basket. Just like last time, he fit perfectly. He looked furious about it.

As they cycled along the trail, gliding between slowly deepening shadows and bright patches of golden sunlight, Mabel could tell Bill was nodding off. “You can sleep if you want,” she said. “I’m a smooth driver. I carried you all the way to the shack in that basket last night, and you didn’t wake up once.”

“DON’T TELL ME THAT,” Bill groaned, straining to stay awake. “HASN’T MY DIGNITY SUFFERED ENOUGH?”

“Not even close,” Mabel said.

—

Mabel suspected Bill had drifted off by the time they reached the shack. But when she stopped the bike in the driveway, he jolted to awareness and lurched out of the basket as fast as he could. He stumbled and brushed himself off, looking like he’d faced the worst indignity of his life. “LET’S GET INSIDE QUICK,” he said, striding purposefully ahead of Mabel. “I DON’T WANT TO GET SPOTTED, I’VE HAD ENOUGH STRESS FOR ONE DAY–”

Then he seemed to smack his head on thin air. With a yelp, he staggered back away from the invisible obstacle, holding his face like he’d been zapped by something. Mabel trotted up to him, just in time to see a shimmer of light flash across an invisible membrane in the air, highlighting the shapes of strange runes and symbols as it slid up across a massive dome that seemed to encase the entire Mystery Shack.

“Oh yeah,” she said thoughtfully. “That.”

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?” Bill shrieked. “I DON’T HAVE ANY OF MY POWERS, BUT THAT STUPID DOME STILL WORKS?! HOW IS THAT FAIR?! I HAVE TO BE STUCK AS A MISERABLE PATHETIC MEATSACK AND STILL DEAL WITH ALL THE STUPID CURSES AND SHIT FROM BEFORE?!? WHAT NEXT, AM I ALLERGIC TO PEANUTS TOO?!? WHAT KIND OF ABSOLUTE x7*&^@^%%$--” he cut himself off and glanced back at Mabel, wincing. “DON’T REPEAT THAT,” he said to her.

“I don’t even know what it was,” Mabel said honestly. She thought maybe a bug had buzzed past her ear while he was talking, because she’d totally missed that last word somehow. Also her vision was a little fuzzy for a second, but then she blinked and it was normal again.

“You passed through the barrier just fine when you were asleep in the basket,” she pointed out.

Bill sighed heavily. “CAN YOU STOP MENTIONING THAT?”

“I’m just saying… hmm.” Mabel walked her bike up to where the membrane had been, and crossed it halfway. Then she held out a hand to Bill.

He looked at her, confused and annoyed. She’d tried this twice before and it hadn’t worked, but maybe the third time was the charm. “C’mon, humor me,” she said.

Bill kept staring at her, looking like he wanted to just turn around and walk back into the woods. But then, slowly, he squeezed his eye shut and reached out his hand toward hers. She grabbed it, and he winced like he’d gotten a static shock. His skin was cold, rough and pebbly, like really old leather. She pulled him forward, almost without meaning to– he really did weigh basically nothing– and walked him through the barrier. It was effortless, no indication that anything had been in the way at all. She couldn’t even really tell when exactly they’d passed through it. But regardless, they’d gotten through.

“Knew it!” Mabel released Bill’s hand so she could flap her hands excitedly. “It’s like a vampire thing! You can only enter the shack if one of us invites you in.”

“GREAT,” Bill muttered. He was holding up the hand she’d just let go of, just staring at it, like it had changed in some way he couldn’t quite define. Like holding hands was the most harrowing experience he’d had today.

“Okay, maybe it’s not the best vampire power to have…” Mabel began, trying to lighten the mood. “But at least the sun doesn’t kill you. And you can eat food, and cross running water…”

“YEP,” he cut in, scowling into the distance. “LEARNED THAT FROM EXPERIENCE.”

“...and hold crosses, probably, if you want… and eat garlic! Unless you’re like a cat and it’ll make you sick… and…” Mabel trailed off. “Is it just me or are vampires a downgrade in, like, every way.”

Bill snorted. “IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE A CURSE, KID. DID YOU MISS THAT PART?”

“Well, yeah, I’ve heard boring people call it a curse lots of times, but in those books and movies and shows and stuff it seems like everybody wants to be a vampire!” she protested. “They act like it’s so cool. I mean, I guess you can live forever or something, but, like, you can’t go outside! Or into any building where you don’t know the owner. And Italian food? Forget it! After hundreds of years, that would get sooo old. What’s the point of living forever if it’s no fun?”

Bill shrugged.

“But people always call it a curse for such boring reasons. Like ‘ooh, they’re evil creatures of the night’ or whatever. So I just wrote them off.”

“THAT’S FAIR, ACTUALLY,” Bill chuckled.

“Anyway, the point is,” Mabel concluded, opening the front door and waving Bill in like a fancy bellhop, “Maybe things aren’t great right now, but at least you’re not a vampire. Count your blessings.”

“YEAH, YEAH,” Bill said, rolling his eye as he entered the shack. “I GUESS THINGS COULD BE WO-OOOH WHAT THE HELL IS THAT”

Mabel spun to see what he’d screamed at, hand on her grappling hook again, but was greeted by Waddles lumbering up from the living room to greet her. She squealed with delight and held out her arms to catch his big pudgy head as he shoved it into her sweater, snuffling happily. “I missed you too, baby boy!” she cooed, squishing his chubby pink cheeks as he nuzzled against her.

After a bit, she happened to glance up at Bill, and couldn’t suppress a laugh. He was staring up at Waddles with by far the most baffled expression she’d ever seen in a single eye. “HOW LONG WAS I GONE?” he finally asked, stepping forward and then quickly backing up as Waddles, who was a full head taller than him now, started to snuffle curiously toward him.

“Oh, yeah. It’s June 2013.” Mabel diverted Waddles’ attention with more face rubs, and he went back to cuddling her. “Turns out farm pigs get really big, really fast! My dad was less than pleased!”

Bill just kept staring as Waddles flopped over onto the floor with a heavy thunk, his energy spent. “...NOTED,” he said. He gave the pig a wide berth as he followed Mabel further into the house. As affronted as she was at the notion of anyone finding Waddles “scary”, Mabel couldn’t really blame him for being cautious. There was a non-zero chance that Waddles might mistake him for a piece of cheese at some point.

“That’s why I’m such a good cyclist now, by the way,” Mabel said, leading Bill downstairs toward Gay Baby Jail. “Dad was like, ‘okay, we can keep the pig, but only if you raise enough money to buy all the stuff we need and build a shed for him and stuff!’ So I did a morning paper route every single day for like six months. And Dipper did a bunch of odd jobs to help raise enough money, and in the end we paid for everything Waddles needed and Mom called Dad out like “You signed a CONTRACT, Robert!” So Waddles got to stay.”

“YOU DID HARD LABOR FOR A PIG?” Bill laughed derisively. “YOU COULD’VE JUST BLACKMAILED HIM, KID! I SAW YOUR DREAMS LAST SUMMER, YOU’VE GOT SOME SERIOUS DIRT ON ROB PINES–”

“Anyway,” Mabel said loudly. “My legs are super strong now. Put me on one of those big hamster wheels, I could power California for like a week.” With that, she threw open the door.

Light spilled from the hallway into Gay Baby Jail, and Mabel couldn’t help but wince a bit. She ducked inside and scooped up some of the snack wrappers still lying on the floor. “We can spruce it up a little,” she said. “Add some fun posters, some gamer lights, maybe a lava lamp… more furniture too, ideally… I mean, hey, it’s a blank slate, right? Infinite possibilities! That’s exciting!”

Bill looked around with a half-lidded eye. “MYTHOLOGICAL SCHOLAR, ELECTRICIAN, REALTOR… REGULAR JACK OF ALL TRADES, AIN’T YA?”

“You bet!” Mabel chirped. She knew he was trying to be rude, and she didn’t care. “I can make this work. I’m great at everything. Heck, I bet I can even make it fun!”

Bill laughed. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but she thought it sounded more amused than contemptuous. “I’LL TAKE YOU UP ON THAT. SOME CASH COULDN’T HURT RIGHT NOW.”

Through the window above, Mabel heard an engine approaching. “We’ll figure that out later,” she said. “I better go meet them. I’ll be back with food later, the bathroom and stuff’s back there… just stay here until I get back, okay?”

“WAIT, HOLD ON,” he blurted out, and she stopped mid-door-slam. “YOU’RE NOT GONNA TELL THEM I’M HERE. RIGHT?”

“...Yeah. Not yet.” Mabel shifted uncomfortably. “Not until I can think of how to break it to them…”

“KID, LISTEN.” Bill’s voice was grave. “YOUR UNCLES CANNOT FIND OUT ABOUT ME. PINETREE, MAYBE. MAYBE THAT’D BE FINE. BUT STAN AND FORD? NO CHANCE. THEY CAN’T FIND OUT.”

Mabel frowned, clenching the hem of her sweater in her fists. “I mean… I could get them to listen–”

“NO. ” His voice ricocheted around the tiny room. “FORD SPENT HALF HIS LIFE TRYING TO KILL ME AT ALL COSTS. STAN DID KILL ME, AND EVEN IF IT WAS JUST DUMB LUCK, HE MIGHT HIT THAT JACKPOT AGAIN! IF THEY FIND ME HERE, THEY WILL KILL ME, AND I HAVE NO WAY TO STOP THEM. AND I CAN’T GO BACK, OKAY? I’M NOT GOING BACK!!”

Mabel had been backing away on instinct; she realized it when her back hit the wall of the hallway. But the shock snapped her out of her fear, and she stomped back in and yelled “HEY!”

Bill went quiet. He stared at her in shock.

“I don’t want to send you back, Bill,” she said. Her voice was shaking a little, residual fear clinging to her throat, but her tone was firm. “That’s the whole point of all this. If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t be here.”

Bill just blinked. For once, he didn’t seem to have anything to say.

“I’m not going to tell them yet,” she said. “And when I do, I’ll warn you first. And I’ll have a plan. I’ll make sure they don’t kill you, okay?” Unless they have to, she added in her head. She figured it went without saying.

“...OKAY. GOOD.” Bill looked off-balance, like he hadn’t expected to get this far.

“And you’ll make sure I don’t regret helping you. Right?”

“RIGHT. PROMISE.” Then, reluctantly, right before the door closed: “...THANK YOU.”

Mabel didn’t buy that for a second. He was definitely up to something. But Stan’s car was pulling up outside, and again, it was too late to backpedal. She gave a short wave and then slammed and locked the door behind her, scurrying upstairs to sit on the couch with Waddles in the living room, like she’d been there all along, just in time to look totally natural when the front door opened.

“Of course there are still a few small issues with the auto-scaling.” Ford’s voice rang through the house. “But really, the problems it causes are negligible.”

“How ‘bout the time that kraken almost sunk the boat because you tried to set it to 1.5 and forgot the decimal?”

“That was human error, Stanley, that had nothing to do with the prototype–”

“Welcome back, guys!” Mabel rushed up to them, Waddles lumbering behind her to shove his face into Dipper’s shirt.

“Hey pumpkin!” Stan ruffled Mabel’s hair. “You really did beat us home!”

“Told you she was fast on that bike!” Dipper said, petting Waddles and trying to stop him from chewing on his hat. “You see now why I couldn’t keep up with her?”

“Yeah, I’m a superhero, basically,” Mabel preened. “Watch, I’ll go carry all the beach stuff inside by myself. It won’t even be hard.”

“No need!” Ford piped up excitedly. With a flourish, he produced a tiny box and what looked like a laser pointer from his coat pocket. Stan started to say something, but before he could get a word out, Ford tossed the box into the air and zapped it with the laser pointer. In a sudden flash of purple light, the box and its contents grew into full-sized beach chairs, pool floaties, picnic supplies and everything else they’d brought to the lake. It all hit the floor with a crash.

“It’s a more efficient take on the shape-changing flashlight you two invented,” Ford explained. “It auto-scans an object’s default dimensions and can rescale them by any multiple you want with the push of a button! Turns out it makes packing a breeze–”

“Sixer!” Stan yelled with a frustrated laugh. “The whole point of using that thing was to not have to carry that stuff to the garage! Now it’s all piled up in front of the door!”

Ford winced. “Oh. Right.”

“I got it!” Mabel leapt into action. Heroically, she grabbed up all the heaviest things in the pile, started to run for the garage, tripped on a chair leg, and fell on her face. She was laughing before she even hit the ground, and soon they all were.

Dipper reached a hand down to help her up. “Hold on, doofus. I got your back.”

—

Luckily for Bill, the walls of his temporary room were insulated enough to drown out almost any sound before it reached the rest of the shack. It would be hard to make enough noise to give himself away.

Unluckily for Bill, Gay Baby Jail was not particularly good at keeping out noise from the rest of the shack. The ceiling, in particular, was like a steel drum with how every step and jump and fumble of the Pines upstairs echoed through it with painful clarity. It sounded like they were playing a rousing game of “Who Can Throw The Heaviest Thing on the Floor”. And the familiar sound of Ford’s obnoxious hiking boots tromping across the floor, like heavy cloven hooves, echoed loudest of all. And Bill was supposed to be the demon here.

He curled up on the beanbag chair and tried to block out the sound with a blanket. Not that he had ears that he knew of, but he had to try something. It wasn’t just the stomping and the crashing. It was the laughing. They were laughing up there, shrill and careless, like a hoard of jackals. This family of traitors and murderers. They put him in the ground, and they were laughing.

He tried to reroute his train of thought. Things weren’t all bad. In fact, they were a lot better now than they were yesterday. He had a roof over his head– thin and noisy as it was– and he had a plan. He just had to wait until they all fell asleep. Then he’d sneak out and assess things. Scope out the area, find out what he needed for the portal and what was here to work with. He knew there were a lot of useful tools and parts hidden in the shack’s various storage rooms, and he knew where to find the things that weren’t here. He had plenty of time to figure it all out.

And best of all, he had an ally. A mole in the enemy camp. His eye crinkled with amusement at the thought. Ford’s own precious little niece working against him in secret. He couldn’t let him find out, of course. But by god, if he ever did, Bill hoped he’d get to see the look on his face.

It was a really lucky break that Shooting Star was the one to find him. The universe owed him a little luck at this point, he supposed. She was the least intolerable of all the Pines by far; that wasn’t a high bar to clear, but it was something. She was compulsively helpful and much too nice for her own good. She was even kind of fun to talk to; her goofy, weird non-sequiturs were hard not to smile at. And she was perhaps the only person in Gravity Falls who was dumb enough to help him.

No. Not dumb. That was the wrong word. She wasn’t dumb, not really. He knew she was clever from how things went last year, and he could tell from their conversations that she wasn’t naive enough to really trust him. She wasn’t dumb. She was something even better. She was optimistic. That meant that even if she saw red flags, even if she started to notice something fishy, chances were good that she’d still look past them, still hold out hope that she was making the right choice. She’d have hope. And that would be her downfall.

His eye drifted shut. Everything would be fine. All the pieces were in place. He just had to play the game until the portal was ready, and then he’d be home free.

The trick would be staying sane until then.

[spaceorphan18]

The other thing I've seen going around today (not here... on other sites) is discussion on when did Colin fall in love and...

Hmmm....

There are a couple of issues I have on this subject.

The first being, why is loving someone as a friend valued less than loving someone in a romantic capacity? It's just a different type of love. And, maybe this is a me thing, but sometimes I get frustrated that friendship is deemed less than romantic love.

(I mean, I could go on a full tangent about Penelope and Eloise, and how their friendship, and their love for each other, was another love story during Season 3 -- and that relationship to Penelope is just as important to her as the one with Colin. As is, Eloise and Colin's familial relationship - which is, again, another form of love.)

anyway, Penelope, we know, had romantic feelings right from the start. but they were childlike, in a way. Colin was a boy (and a person in general) who didn't laugh at her for being awkward. This meant the world to her. It was a childhood crush, that developed and matured into an actual friendship, and developed and matured into romantic love. These are two separate things that happen but are very intertwined for Penelope.

As for Colin - he says to his brothers that his feelings aren't some thunderbolt from the sky, and that they had developed over time. There isn't one point where he was bam! in love. It was always something simmering and taking shape.

And I mean - in Season 1, there was friendly affection there -- they grew up as literal children together. She was always around. They were fixtures in each other's lives, and it probably was a familial caring for her - in the way he cares for Eloise. There there are points in which he shows that she is special to him. He recognizes that she helps him understand himself. And that there's a unique dynamic there - beyond, hey, this girl is my sister's bff.

And then comes Season 2 - and the letters are incredibly important to their development. It starts an intimacy between them that they don't have with other people. It also lets them be open and vulnerable in a way that they aren't able to in person. There's a connection there. And a valuable one at that. And Colin sees her as a friend, and someone important and special in his life. The friendship is very real, and his love for her is there. Even if it is friendship that doesn't mean it's something less than how Penelope feels for him - it's just different.

And then the thing that does separate romantic love from friendship love is sexual desire -- and Colin doesn't really recognize this until they kiss, that he is attracted to her, as well as everything else. It compounds. So, by the time they finish up that carriage ride, there are three types of love going on -- familial, friendship, and romantic love, and Colin understands this enough to be sure in knowing that she's the one for him. (He also knows he has to lock her in, because she could develop all of that with someone else - she almost did - so that's also apart of the proposal, but i digress.)

I guess my long winded point is that it's odd to talk about Colin's love for Penelope in distinct moments, when it's all a spectrum, and overlapping kinds of love. And I mean - I think there's a better conversation to be had about what love is to Colin, how does he define it?

Because I think how we love is different person to person. And letting fictional characters be complex like that is really kind of fascinating (to me).

And I guess - what draws me to Polin (over Saphne and Kanthany) is that it's a love story where the foundation is friendship, and the specialness in that, is absolutely valued first, and romantic love stems from that, instead of vice versa.

But that's just me.

[alwaysthefool]

Dressed Up Treachery (x Sylus)

Warnings: none

Tags: f! Reader (pro trans blog), MC Reader

Synopsis: Sylus gets jealous and that’s never a good thing

You were in another room, getting ready for an event with a dress you picked out yourself. An off shoulder silk bell strap with the fabric reaching your ankles, dyed in soft colours and embellished beautifully, however needing to be zipped up from behind. You tried to reach it, but failed, eventually looking for your phone to ask Sylus to come help you, soon realising you left it in his room.

You groaned, holding up your dress on your chest with your hands, lightly taking footsteps to Sylus’ room. Before you could knock, you heard someone clear their throat behind you.

You looked back to see Luke, or perhaps Kieran, with a box of cufflinks for Sylus in his hand. “Oh, thank god you’re here.” You chimed. “Help me zip up my dress.”

“Uh…” The voice seemed like it belonged to Luke. “Are you sure boss won’t get mad at me?”

“What? That’s so silly.” You laughed. It was truly a small thing. You just needed help with a zipper. Luke gulped, setting the box on the table beside the door, and soon you felt a gloved hand lightly push your hair on your shoulder, and zip you up.

“I’ll give him these, thanks!” You said, referring to the cufflinks. Luke took a bow, and almost sprinted away. You picked up the box and knocked on his door, hearing a cold ‘come in’. You lightly came inside, seeing Sylus in front of the wall mirror, fixing his tie. Thankfully, it wasn’t positioned in such a way that you were visible, so you tried to sneak up on him.

“Terrible habit, kitten.” Sylus sighed, turning around to face you, his face breaking into a smile when he saw you dressed up. “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks.” You feel heat rush up to your cheeks when you noticed Sylus wasn’t looking away from you. You shied away, handing him the box. “Your cufflinks.”

“Help me put them on?” Sylus asked, opening the box and taking them out. You clumsily took the cufflinks, and his large hands, taking your time with it, discarding the box on his vanity. You could tell his red eyes were still on you and that made you a little conscious. “Stop staring.”

“Do you really expect me not to? Such a pretty girl, and she’s all-“ Sylus stopped for some reason. You were almost done with his cufflinks, so you looked up at his frowning expression.

“Kitten, why do you have my cufflinks in the first place?”

“Oh. I needed help with zipping up my dress, so I came to you. But Luke— well, at least I think it was Luke— was outside so I asked him to do it!” You spoke non chalantly, finally finishing up. You expected Sylus to nod in understanding and move on, but something was suddenly off about him. He looked irritated.

“You what?”

Sylus was not looking pleased, to say the least. His eyes bore into you, accusatory and hurt, as if demanding an explanation. It almost reminded you of someone else you knew. Your relationship with Sylus was inexplicable, something between business partners and actual partners, but you never actually addressed it. He’d never said it out loud, but the way he held you, looked at you, spoke of you, made everything confusing. He acted as if the two of you already belonged to each other without even a single moment that confirmed it.

Maybe this was it.

“It’s just a dress.” You rolled your eyes, stepping away to sit on the bed, but he held you back gently by your waist, making sure not to touch your skin. You looked up at him, upset yourself, thinking you did something wrong.

Sylus sighed, trying to appear less annoyed once he saw that look. “Next time, only ask me for things like this.”

You were about to say something to protest, but he continued. “Things like zipping up your dress, helping you put your heels on, braiding your hair… leave them to me, please.”

“Why?” You pushed, defying him still. You felt bad, he was being patient and gentle, but you wanted some clarity in that matter. You pulled away from him to sit down on his bed, playing with the pearls on the skirt of the dress.

“Because.” Sylus seemed to lose his patience as he moved to tower over you, his hands on either side of you. “These small moments with you are precious to me. I want all of them. I want them, and I want you,” He moved closer, his lips next to your ear, his hair tickling your cheek, “all to myself.”

There was none of that usual snark or teasing in his voice, it was just a pure, possessive, pleading tone. You wanted him to be more explicit, but only managed to let out a ‘mhm’ as he got off you, a pat on your head.

So that’s the definition you held on to, and the fact he wouldn’t take his hand off you for the rest of the evening, asking you your views on everything, making sure you didn’t drink too much, treating you with care and affection like never before. You could only lean into him, and accept all of it shamelessly, not even thinking about the eyes on you.

-x-

Bonus;

As you and Sylus retuned home, something felt amiss. “Hey, where’s Luke?” You asked Sylus, as Kieran took the keys to take the car into parking.

“He’s on clean-up duty.” You cringed hearing that. That was never a fun task.

“And for something he didn’t even do.” Kieran whispered to himself, stifling a laugh.

[writeforfandoms]

Island 8

Find the series masterlist

The group of you are finally ready to leave the base and start on, hopefully, the final journey on the Island.

Warnings: Swearing, mention of blood, mention of hunting, anxiety, general feelings of low self-worth, typical stuff for Survivor for this series.

Word count: 2.7k

It took a further three days to have everything as prepped as you wanted. You made batches and batches of hard biscuits, using up all the flour. Berries would still be available along a lot of the route, so you didn't worry too much about that. Jerky was fortunately something you'd been making for a long time, so you had quite a bit of it to go around. Fresh meat would also be available along the route. 

Water was more of a concern, but you were still holding out hope for a drop with more canteens.

Price gave in to your logic, and finished taming the iguanodon, which was good. Ghost surprised the hell out of you by coming back with a stego. Even Soap managed to tame a parasaur. 

Gaz still wanted a hyaenadon, so you and he took the ghillie and cuts of meat and started taming. You worked on one - Gaz somehow managed to work on two. It did take two days, as you'd predicted, but it worked. 

Leaving the lot of you with plenty of tames to carry things and help guard the group. Hopefully you'd be able to tame a few more things along the way, since you weren't worried much about being able to feed them all until you got to the volcano. 

Really, it was a pretty good start. 

Soap and Gaz did a good portion of the packing, with Price and Ghost handling the weapons and ammunition. Another thing you wouldn't mind finding more of in a drop. 

You kept track of everything, made sure everyone had some armor and kept essentials on them. Just in case. 

You didn't even object when Gaz swapped out one of your armor pieces for something heavier. 

The morning you were set to leave was… hard. Not for any reasons you'd expected. Packing went quickly and seamlessly, all the tames behaving themselves. Even Ripper wasn't trying to maul anyone. 

No, it was difficult for you to leave. You didn't want to leave. You didn't want to leave the safety of your base. You weren't ready to venture into the relative unknown.

Even with the four men by your side. 

“Ready?” Gaz finally prompted you, even as one of the tames snorted and shuffled behind you. 

You breathed in deep one last time, hands steady as you straightened your shirt. “Ready.” You turned your back on the base and took your place at the front, leading the whole group away. 

You didn't look back. 

If your guesses were right, it would take about four days to reach the volcano, since the lot of you weren't pushing, and were moving more cautiously. Maybe three, if things went well and nobody got in trouble and there weren't any distractions. 

You had enough food to last a week, just in case. 

The first day was easy. Nothing bothered you. All was quiet. Feeding everyone was easy - the herbivores grazed as you all walked, and you let Ripper and the hyaenadons after a few dodos. Gaz helped you build up the campfire for the night, helping you cook as the others took care of settling everything else. 

“Ye never did tell us how to tame a raptor,” Soap said, eyeing Ripper where the raptor had settled behind you for the night. 

“I didn't?” You blinked, surprised. You could have sworn you'd told them already. “Well, it's not easy. The hyaenadons are probably the easiest, honestly.” You swallowed a few berries, thinking over how you wanted to phrase it. 

“And the rest?” Price had a keen eye on you, even as he swapped a pot of boiling water for a fresh pot. 

“Well, first step is to not get killed,” you answered dryly, smirking at his dissatisfied huff. “You have to trap the predators. Usually that means with something like a bear trap. Feed them while they're stuck and can't go anywhere. Tom was pretty good at building traps that were less harmful, things you could lead a raptor into without risking your arm.” 

“Traps, eh?” Price eyed you, clearly considering. “Did he teach you?” 

“Yes,” you said slowly, hesitantly. “But we won't have time to build any traps, not on our route. The only chance we'd have of taming one is if we found one already trapped or injured.” 

“But it could be done,” Price pressed. 

“Sure,” you agreed with a shrug. “Still takes time, so we'd have to pause somewhere nearby, but it could be done, hypothetically. I don't know if we'll need more carnivores though, honestly. I wouldn't say no to more trikes or stegos.” 

Price sat back, his curiosity apparently assuaged for the moment. 

“How did Tom teach ye?” Soap asked, still looking curious. 

“Showed me what he had done with Ripper,” you said, shrugging again. “We had plenty of time. Not like we had anywhere else to be.” You paused, swallowing back bitterness. “At least, that's what we figured at the time.” 

Silence settled over the camp for a few long moments, the others giving you time to calm again. You didn't look at them, instead choosing to look at the fire, letting the movement of the flames distract you from your feelings. 

You owed a lot to Tom, and you'd never have a chance to repay him. 

But maybe if you got these men out… maybe your debt would be closer to settled. 

“What else did he teach you?” Gaz was the one to break the silence. “About tames.”

You smiled a little. “Which ones to avoid, like dodos,” you answered easily. “Which ones were easier to tame. Where to find the different creatures.” 

“You seen a lot of this place, then?” Soap piped up, watching keenly.

“A fair bit. Not the snowy lands, not the volcano. But I did make the mistake of going through the swamp once.” You shuddered in remembered terror and revulsion. “Huge bugs. Terrifying crocodile-things, except bigger. Lots of fighting and hunting going on in the swamp, all the time.” 

“Didn't ye have to go there to get the leech?” Soap looked faintly concerned. 

You shrugged. “I stayed to the outside, only went in far enough to find a leech and run. It was fine.” You reached behind you to pat Ripper. The raptor chirruped at you, clearly pleased with the attention. 

“Good thing that's not on the way,” Gaz managed to joke, his attention still focused on you. 

“Very good thing,” you agreed. “Although once we get into the mountains, there will be plenty of bad shit to keep us busy.” 

“We're prepared for that,” Price pointed out, seemingly unconcerned. 

You decided to keep your thoughts to yourself. You'd already expressed concern about the danger, more than once, so further harping on it wouldn't get you anywhere. Especially since these four could now survive on their own. They didn't actually need you anymore. 

It was what you'd worked towards with them, for them, but it was still a slightly terrifying thought. That they would survive without you. 

You shook yourself, getting rid of the worst of the what ifs and maybes, and stood to do a quick round of checks. Now that dark had fallen, it would be best to sleep in shifts, something the four of them had divided up quite nicely. 

You weren’t going to object. Not tonight. Tomorrow, though, you’d insist on pulling your weight. 

Soap, Price, and Ghost all settled down, apparently content to go to sleep. Soap even went so far as to roll away from the fire, his hair even more of a mess than usual. 

Gaz stayed where he was, seated, shoulders relaxed but gaze alert. The firelight cast odd shadows around him, flickering and dancing. Far from scaring you, however, you just thought him beautiful like this. 

“You should get some sleep,” he murmured to you, voice lowered in deference to his teammates. 

“I will,” you agreed. “In a few minutes.” You breathed in deep, the cold air mixed with the smell of the fire both soothing and exhilarating. “You see the island very differently.”

“Do I?” He sounded curious, glancing at you as you settled a little closer to him. You told yourself it was so you could keep your voices down, let the others sleep.

You didn't acknowledge that you just wanted to be close to him. 

Well. You tried not to acknowledge that, anyway. 

“You still see the wonder of it,” you murmured, letting your own gaze drift past the fire to the dark woods beyond. “The beauty of this place. I can't see it anymore. I just see danger.” 

Gaz was quiet for a few moments before he leaned over enough to nudge his shoulder up against yours. “You've been alone a long time,” he murmured. “Hypervigilance is not surprising.” 

You sighed softly, leaning just a little into the comfort he offered. “I'm tired,” you admitted, so quiet you were sure he couldn't hear you. 

But he surprised you, turning enough to wrap one solid arm around your shoulders. “I'm here,” he whispered, head tipped towards your ear, foreheads nearly touching. “I'll help. Any way I can.” 

You closed your eyes, trying to ignore the hot sting of tears, refusing to let them escape. “You already are.” 

His arm tightened around you, comforting and grounding, letting you breathe more easily. Neither of you said another word. None were needed. The shared warmth and comfort was more than enough for you. 

And when you woke in the morning next to Gaz, rather than where you'd originally set your things down, no one said anything. Soap looked like he wanted to, but he didn't. (The sharp-looking elbow from Gaz might've helped with that.) 

It didn't take long until the lot of you were walking again. You had the map, mostly ignoring Price peering over your shoulder at it. You didn't need the map yet, but you wanted to be sure the lot of you weren't getting lost. 

“Drops up ahead,” Ghost called from the back of the group. 

You paused and shaded your eyes, looking up until you spotted them. One green drop and one white. Your heart thumped in excitement. White drops were rare, and usually had really good stuff. 

“Looks like they'll be falling up ahead,” Price said, having also spotted them. “Nearly dead ahead.” 

“The white one is a bit off course,” you mused. “But it should be fine. We're not that close to the horse clan here, I think we're outside their normal range.” 

“You think?” Price raised one eyebrow at you.

You rolled your eyes. “I was less focused on keeping up with their territories, and more focused on surviving,” you pointed out, eyes narrowing at him. 

Price huffed but held his hands up in apparent surrender. Satisfied, you looked back at the drops. The green would be directly on the way, easy to stop and grab. 

An ankylosaurus wandered out of the trees in front of the group, snorting once at the lot of you before continuing to look for berries. 

“Slight change of plans,” you murmured, excited now. “You lot go to the green drop and wait for it there. I'll tame this anky and meet up with you.” 

“You shouldn't stay out here on your own,” Gaz interrupted, having clearly been eavesdropping. 

You shrugged. “So someone can volunteer to stay with me,” you said, unbothered. “Won't take three of you long to get everything out of the green drop anyway.” 

“I'll stay,” Gaz immediately offered. 

Price sighed and briefly pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something too quiet for you to understand. He sounded faintly exasperated. “Fine,” he agreed, lowering his hand again. “Soap, Ghost, on me.” He strode ahead, and you whistled the tames to follow him. 

From behind, it was rather fun to see the small herd of creatures following the beleaguered-looking captain. A sentiment Soap seemed to share with you, snickering as he passed. 

“More tames?” Gaz asked after the group had pulled ahead. 

“Ankys are pretty good defense,” you pointed out. “Not sure how much they can carry, but that tail is a good deterrent for a lot of predators.” 

“Not arguing,” he was quick to say, holding out a bag of berries. “Just surprised we're taking the time to do this now, is all.” 

You shrugged, pulling out a dark red berry and rolling it between your fingertips. “Way I see it, we have plenty of time,” you pointed out. “And more tames can't hurt.” 

Gaz nodded, accepting your logic. “So, approach slowly and feed it until it likes you?” He guessed with a little grin. 

You couldn't help your huff of amusement. “Basically,” you agreed. “Keep an eye out and shout if you see trouble.” You left him there, walking over closer to the anky. 

It wasn't a long process to feed, fortunately. The anky was hungry, and eager to take berries even from your hand. By the time the other group had the drop packed away, you had the anky following you, docile as any tame. 

“Anything good in that drop?” You asked as you and Gaz walked up to the rest of the group. 

“A canteen,” Soap answered, holding it up to show you. “And more ammo.” 

“Not bad,” you agreed with a little grin. “I hope the white drop has more good stuff.” 

The white drop seemed to be a bit off the path you'd drawn for the journey, edging closer to the edge of the Pink Ladies’ territory. Hopefully it wouldn't be a problem. Hopefully it would be worth it. 

This time, Gaz stayed next to you as you walked. You didn't mind his company, even when you heard a bit of snickering and hushed murmurs behind you. Soap, at a guess. And maybe Price. 

The white drop was a bit larger than the average drop, and it only took moments to pry the top open. 

The first thing you grabbed happened to be a bundle of incendiary arrows. You whistled lowly, impressed. 

“Hardly ever see these,” you mused, passing them to Soap. “Those could come in handy.” 

The jar of oil went right after the arrows, and your grin felt a little sharp. A little feral, possibly. 

Those arrows would be an excellent way to defend your group, if needed. 

Two more canteens, bigger and heavy-duty, met with your approval. More ammo, for all the weapons. A precious jar of cure-all. Two bags of jerky. And a bola, which you’d never had a chance to use before. 

“That was a good drop,” you said, grinning, very pleased. “Very good drop.” 

“Good to have supplies,” Price agreed, finishing stowing away the last of the extra ammo. 

“Now that this is done, we can keep going.” You didn't bother with taking the crate this time. No need, not if you lot actually got off the island. And building took too long on the road to be helpful. 

Ghost hissed through his teeth. “Got eyes on,” he said suddenly. 

The shift in the men around you was palpable, shoulders drawing up, expressions changing. Gaz shifted so he was half in front of you, physically blocking you. 

You'd be impressed if you weren't trying to peer over his shoulder to see what was ahead. 

Three Painted Ladies stood ahead, basically in the way. Your heart sank. You hadn't dealt much with them, not in a while, but the red dye on their faces and clothes made it clear. The two marked tames behind them made you a little nervous - an anky and a dire bear. You hadn't seen a dire bear in ages. 

You'd forgotten how big they got. 

You breathed in slowly, eyeing the distance between your groups. The Painted Ladies weren't approaching, weren't trying to get closer. Clearly waiting. 

You'd have to go to them. 

“You lot stay here,” you said, quiet but firm. “They won't deal with you.” 

“But–!” Soap started to protest, one hand already on a rifle. 

“No.” You shook your head a little. “They won't talk to you. They'll talk to me.” 

Price looked back at you, calculating. Then he nodded once, firm and steady. “Gaz, keep back, but follow her.” 

You didn't object that time. Having Gaz at your back made you feel better, even if you knew he couldn't help. So you breathed in deep, until the ache of it filled your lungs. 

Then you started forward, projecting confidence you didn't feel.

[illuminatedquill]

Story Summary: Ezra Bridger is home at last . . .

*Author's Note: This was originally a sabezraweek2024 fanfic that did not get finished on time and was delayed due to . . . circumstances. I hope that this story gives you, dear reader, some small measure of joy. We will be needing it in the days, months, and years to come.

Prompt - Surprise(?)

@sabezraweek

Your name is Ezra Bridger, and you have finally returned home.

Standing in the doorway of the old comm-tower you lived in for seven long, dark, and lonely years. All the old feelings return in a rush: a heady surge of nostalgia, joy, and lingering sadness that not even your Jedi training can fight against.

It almost brings you to your knees in that moment, that wave of emotions. You fight it off, swaying in the doorway.

(But you do not fight the stream of tears falling down your face. You do not even try.)

The woman who is practically a second mother to you gives you a gentle squeeze on your arm. Hera Syndulla has barely aged a day since you last saw her. Her voice still carries the gravity of command that you had grown accustomed to since the day you first met - but now it sits more heavily, more pronounced. The title of General does not seem to weigh much on her, yet the wear and tear of years fighting a war for freedom do.

You can see it in her eyes. The sadness of those who were lost.

(You were not with her to mourn the passing of your mentor, Kanan Jarrus. That is something you will always regret, no matter how necessary the sacrifice was.)

But none of that diminishes the joy. In the Force, you see her truly: a gentle fountain of golden light, always pouring forth. No darkness will ever blight the person that is Hera Syndulla. Whatever evil the galaxy conjures up to throw at her, she will never falter in her truth.

(That is an immutable fact of the universe. And everyone who knows her understands that.}

Both of the Jedi who loved her were inspired by the light she represented. So much so, that one died to protect it.

Even now, you turn to her for strength. Not to stand against an incoming darkness, but a return to the light.

You have returned home.

Hera says some gentle words, joined with a tearful smile. She has never left your side since you came back. There is always a smile - and, sometimes, with it comes some tears.

She leaves you be, once assured that you will be okay, to wait outside and extend some privacy.

Taking a deep breath, you walk inside the place you once called home.

It does not surprise you to see the mess that greets you. You know who has been living here during your absence.

(She fought for this place to remain a home. Not to become a tomb.)

A loth cat - Murley, you were told was his name - watches you with bright, curious eyes. It loafs, in the way loth cats do when relaxing, on the edge of a work bench. Cautiously, you extend a hand.

Murley sniffs hesitantly, and then gives a tender boop of his nose on the edge of your finger.

Guess that means I'm welcome to stay, you think, a smile forming on your face.

With the loth cat's approval, you walk around the comm-tower's interior slowly, taking everything in.

You see the paintings on the walls; the paint, the symbols, the signs of life and light that were not present before. The notes, the data pads, the texts, the tools, the clothes all strewn about like they were caught in the grip of a vicious gale of wind - all of it, burning brightly with her presence.

She made this a home, just as you did. A part of you wonders why she came here, of all places. She was a war hero. Surely, they offered her anywhere to stay on Lothal.

You know why, whispers a voice from the corner of your heart. She had nowhere else to go.

No. That was not the reason.

There was nowhere else she wanted to go. Not after . . .

You close your eyes, extending your senses in the Force. It takes far longer than it should, as your heart threatens to hammer its way through your chest, fueled by the sudden resurgence of feelings long thought buried.

When the calm comes, and you reach out -

Ezra.

Her voice. Saying your name in a hushed whisper, a thousand - no, a million times over and over.

Like a prayer. Every utterance comes with a different inflection - sometimes sad, sometimes happy, and sometimes angry - but, as you delve deeper into the Force, you can sense the same emotion of where it all is born from.

It's the same emotion you felt when first seeing her again after so many years of dreaming of the moment when she would come for you, at last.

You felt it when your eyes locked with hers; an achingly familiar face that you imagined on your bleakest days. A beautiful face, full of fierce pride and devotion, that you tried clumsily to recreate with a crude pen and even cruder hand, on the days when loneliness threatened to take you.

You felt it when she spoke; her voice being like a melody whose tune you had almost forgotten in the long years abandoned. Hearing it was like seeing the sun break through a dark, gray morning. She teased and joked and bantered with you like no time had passed.

You felt it when she embraced you; the steady, sure strength of her arms, clad in the unbreakable beskar steel of her people - an unbreakable strength that paled next to her own will and determination. Once, when you were younger, you thought that strength could shake the stars.

(You are more right than you are willing to admit.)

You felt it when you inhaled her scent - a scent that reminded you of the fresh bloom of flowers, delicate and lovely - as she hugged you close enough to feel the beating of your heart. Although you both acted the part of dearly reunited friends, you know that something deeper had transpired in your reunion.

Because when you felt her heartbeat, you mistook it for your own at first - until you realized that both of yours were beating so profoundly in unison that it felt like one heart.

When you open your eyes again, you are not surprised to feel the tears falling from them again.

You think about the last time you saw her - fighting on the top of a dark tower, saving another friend. A flash of emerald, flaring bright against the bleak sky of a foreign world.

You, Ezra Bridger, suddenly feel more alone than when you were stranded in another galaxy.

Looking around now, the place you called home feels empty. Despite the familiar surroundings and scents, it does not feel right. Something is missing.

Someone is missing from it. The absence fills the silence inside the comm-tower, robbing you of breath and peace.

You wonder, briefly, if this is how she felt for all those years. You can scarcely stand it now, not being there with her.

How did she handle it? How did she survive?

(You know what she did. The question is what will you do?)

You, Ezra Bridger, are surprised to realize that you are not home.

Not yet. Home, you now know, was never a place.

Home was left behind.

There is shame now. A gentle, burning regret. Once, you think to yourself, you knew this to be true.

How easy it is to forget.

(She never did.)

(What will you do, with all your power?)

You take a deep breath - and listen to the Force.

Hera comes beside you, concerned. You turn to her and say three words - a truth, a reason, and a call to action.

She laughs gently. "You didn't know?"

You shake your head, ruefully.

A gentle rap on your forehead. "Guess there's still some things for the Jedi Knight to learn."

You nod, thinking fervently, I hope so.

Hera studies you closely. "You sure about this?"

You repeat the same three words. She snorts.

"You already said that."

It makes things simpler, you think. But you only answer with a smile.

"Alright, then. Let's go get her, Ezra."

Your voice comes out firm and steady with purpose - and you think about her again, an image vividly springing to life in the forefront of your mind: her, smiling up at a sea of stars far, far away, thinking of home.

But not a place. A person.

This time, you start to think, as you walk out of the comm-tower and into the lowered ramp of the waiting Ghost.

This time, I really am going home.

[umgeorge]

The Pressure of the Podium: Interview With George Russell

While British success stories in Formula 1 tend to centre around Lewis Hamilton-as well they should; he's a legend-George Russell has quietly been making a serious name for himself. At a fresh-faced 26 years old, he’s one of the younger racers on the grid and, when we caught up with him ahead of the Hungarian Grand Prix back in the summer, was still revelling in the best season of his career. So, how was he finding the season so far? "Its been... I wouldn't say a rollercoaster, but it's been one that we've been climbing," says Russell. "At the start we were at the bottom of the mountain and been steadily getting closer to the top. There's so much excitement and motivation when you're on a team like this, like we have a visible return on everything we've been putting in, that momentum we've been building up."

We were talking shortly after his second F1 victory in Austria, which was a bit of a hairy one. After spending most of the race in third, still a respectable podium finish, Lando Norris and Max Verstappen ahead of him got a little too close to one another, crashing to take them both out the race. It was a far cry from Russell's incredibly convincing first win. But was there a difference to him? "Each win is incomparable. Every race is a completely different scenario. My first, in Brazil, was where I was ahead every lap. I'd done fantastically the day before and the pressure was there. Near the end I had Lewis on my tail and it was a relief to get across that finish line. In Austria I was happy to be in third, and then it all kicked off ahead and the opportunity arose. Every race is different and you never really know how it's going to go, even when you're behind the wheel." With that kind of uncertainty, it has to be hard to prepare yourself for racing at this level. There's the danger, of course, as that crash in Austria and a multitude of other times shows, but none of these guys would be racing if that put them off. Instead, we were more interested to find out if the pressure ever got to him - and, more importantly, what Russell did to cope with it.

"I'm a little obsessive. I try to make sure I've gone through all the preparation possible with my engineers, taken a look at last year's data, gone over the car, the weather conditions; anything I feel I need to be looking for. Once I've ticked them all off I'm at peace, mentally. I know I'm at my peak physical condition. I know every race is going to be tough. But there are nineteen other drivers and hopefully they'll find it tougher than I will. After that, what will happen, will happen. It's out of your control." With that huge amount of pressure every single week, the intense training regime to stay in that physical condition, and the sheer hectic nature of a globe-trotting racing competition, decompression seems like a necessity. Russell, though, seems to want to take decompressing very literally.

"I love being by the sea so I've started free diving, which is a bit of a random hobby, but when I'm out in the water I'm just so focused on my breathing, on being underwater, that I just disconnect from the world. Once beneath the sea, down there with the fish and coral, you're not thinking about anything else except having enough breath to get back to the top!" Russell isn't the only British racing legend around. We've had a long, illustrious line of champions of which Hamilton is only the latest and Russell could potentially be next. For Russell, there's something in the inspiration of champions of old, and having seven of the ten Formula 1 teams based in the UK helps. But for him, the key to British racing success is British racing's green grass roots.

"I remember racing with Lando and Alex, and alongside other racers who didn't make it to Formula 1 but have made professional racing careers. There's definitely something about the grass roots level here that works. But it needs to stay at that level. This isn't the most economical sport in the world, so we need to make sure that we can give kids that don't have the opportunity, otherwise, the funding they need to get behind the wheel and try go-karting." That said, go-karting is never going to be cheap for most would-be podium contenders, and whether it's that or sheer pace, it's an opportunity sadly few kids have. E-sports, on the other hand, is different. "Simulators have advanced so much now. The Formula 1 game is fantastic and there should be ways we can identify talent sooner, instead of just having financial backing to push you through the ranks."

Whether coming from the classic karting angle or from killing it online with photorealistic driving games, kids are going to need to have to contend with one of the most intensely competitive sports in the world - if not the most. According to Russell, though, they shouldn't be afraid of making mistakes; quite the opposite. "The one piece of advice that I try to embrace, myself, is: don’t be afraid to fail. The times I've failed have been the times I've progressed the most, the times I've really pushed my limits. It doesn't matter what you do; failure is necessary. It's how we grow, how we learn about ourselves. There's so much pressure not to let people down, especially with younger people, but you don't want to go through life never making a mistake or knowing where your ceiling is."

And any advice for those of us not thinking of a career in racing? Even shaving a few seconds off a track day would help for a few more bragging rights. "No matter what you're driving, stay relaxed. I've driven with people that have never been on a track before. They tense up, hunch over, and it makes everything erratic. Smooth is fast - smooth with the steering, throttle, and brake. It's not necessarily how we drive in Formula 1, but if you want to speed up on a track day, stay relaxed." Obviously, it’s not lost on Russell just how many kids and F1 fans alike look up to him as a sportsman. He's young, he's hungry, and his experience is starting to pay off. But for Russell, there are other sportspeople in other sports, and one in his own who I'm sure you can guess, that he looks up to.

"I have a huge amount of respect for Ronaldo. He's without a doubt the leader in his field. The same with Djokovic - they're fighters that push their physical performance. Then there's Lewis, obviously. He puts his platform to great use and I admire him for that as much as his wins and what he's doing off the track. I hope to be one of those leaders in years to come." Now he may well get a chance as Lewis will, in 2025, be moving from Mercedes, as Russell's teammate, over to Ferrari. It's a bold move, but on the other hand it means that Russell will soon be able to race his former teammate as an actual rival. Will that be weird? "He'll be wearing a different suit, but I'll still recognise him! We're at different stages in our career, but we have massive respect for one another. For now, I'll see him on the track."

[errruvande]

Fanfic writer interview

Thank you @thelettersfromnoone for the tag!! 💖

How many work do u have on AO3?

3, not your local AO3 girlie lmao

What's your total AO3 word count?

8 534

Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes

I'll go with Tumblr ones, cause from my 3 AO3 works the biggest number I got is 31 lmao

Anyone but you (Legolas x f!reader)

Night watch (Legolas x Reader)

Well-deserved rest (Haldir x f!Reader)

One messy night (Boromir x f!Reader)

Transition (Haldir x f!Reader)

Honorable mention (since it's not fics but headcanons)

Green Council receiving a hot pic from you (HotD)

TLK men's reaction on being pet named

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I always try to respond to comments! These little things are brightening up my day, so I wanna let the people know that they are my heroes hahaha

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

I really think it's Transition. All in all it's a pretty dark story, a bit depressing I think (I had these intentions while writing at least).

Otherwise, I don't think I have angsty endings fics?

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

New family members for sure!! Was thinking hard what to choose, cause I think all of my happy ending fics are on the pretty same level on a happy scale, but I remember that I have this gen, non romantic baby and I love it so much ❤️‍🩹 There's a little TLK OMC for y'all

Do you write crossovers?

I wanted to say I've never done this BUT THEN!!! My Assassin's Creed (Ezio) x LOTR little headcanon!!! My beloved child!!

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

No, not that I remember getting any hate on my fics

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do, tho not much and on rare occasions. I used to write a lot of smut when I was younger (a teen), then I stopped being comfortable with it for a wild few years (tho reading never made me uncomfortable lmao).

Now I started writing smut again, idk what kind? Don't really understand what does that mean lol F x M traditional sex? Pretty detailed? If so, then yes lmao

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't know 😂 Maybe, maybe not. I think rather not.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not to my knowledge, I don't think so.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

We tried with my friend a long long time ago. Didn't go well lmao It's hard and kinda stressing, cause you never know what the other person is gonna write (at least we had this SURPRISE system), so... You kinda have zero plot cause everything you want to write plot-wise can be ruined by the second person's plot lmao

What's your all-time favorite ship?

Athelnar?? Athelstan and Ragnar were my first ever OTP (quickly followed by Alfred and Uhtred). You could never beat that Athelnar shit out of my body lmao I've never written for them, but oh I do love them boys!

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

Now, that's the HARSH one lmao

I think I have at least 3 OC stories that I really wanna write (2 for TLK and one for LOTR), but I'm scared that I will never actually do it. I never was good with multi chaptered stories, and these are indeed not a one shots 🥲

What are your writing strengths?

Ugh... I don't know? I think I was pretty good with dialogues and descriptions of the surroundings to build the atmosphere. But... I guess it's not for me to decide but for the readers?

What are your writing weaknesses?

I rarely finish what I've started lmao I should write everything in one go or else I'll never finish it... Or will finish it in two months even if it's a 2k words one shot

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I love them! I've only done it with my LOTR fics (with Sindarin) but I really love it. But I really love it when the language is different from the language of the settings? Like, if the story is happening in England and everyone is English, but you have two characters who can speak idk Dutch, let them have a Dutch language in their dialogue. I had a rant post about it not that long ago actually lmao You have to think about your in-universe language

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

Ahhh Bungou Stray Dogs! I love them, and I'd gladly try to write something for them. Not a character/character but reader my beloved.

And maybe Stephane Narcisse (reign) my beloved and a reader

What's your favorite fic you've written?

The blood on my hands (Eomer) and Peace (Finan) are definitely my fave ones I think. They are dark and both explore some trauma

No pressure tags: @whitedarkmoonflower @lord-aldhelm @holy3cake @gemini-mama @emilyhufflepufftlk @persephones-journey @solinarimoon @mrsalwayswrite @emmanuellececchi @bilbotargaryen @levithestripper @mrsarnasdelicious @paula-in-dreamland

[foodtruckery]

ive returned because your writing haunts me and i need to dig into your brain about combat baby idk how deeply youve thought about like. the whole extent of this au so if im asking about stuff that you dont want to focus on for it forgive me but im so curious how do things go down with bill?? like hes still an issue here do they just try the unicorn hair and stan scams his way through (and ford is so shocked and lowkey turned on impressed they bang after) or with everything else happening does ford (stupid genius he is) just sort of forget bill can still enter stan's dreams even if hes got the metal plate and stans like "hey why am i dreaming about a dorito obsessed with your portal"

and im guessing ford would not be down to make his home a tourist trap so do you think stan would just help with the research? or would his insecurities about being dead weight to ford push him to try and find his own way of income?

and and what about the town?? do they have to awkwardly pretend theyre father and son or uncle and nephew or something? because sure they could pretend theyre not related but they still look pretty similar. ford just looks like an older, nerdier stan so i think that would be people's first assumption (ford seething quietly as susan flirts with stan. stan just thinks fords feeling uncomfortable in town because hes a hermit until theyre alone and they have a repeat of their highschool days with ford hissing in his ear and demanding to know what he was expecting to happen with susan. stan trying to answer but hes a little distracted at the time)

and also with ford being back would they ever run into fiddleford again? either him in his cult days or maybe already halfway to losing his mind. depending on where he is mentally im sure the interaction could be either pretty hostile or sympathetic

ive grabbed you by the ankles and am attempting to shake you upside down to try and empty your pockets for scraps of this au because it consumes me

-🐶

waaaaaah thanks for being patient with me friend! you know i ALWAYS love to see you with the big fuckin questions and ideas. and i have been THINKING about this one cause, tbh, i finished combat baby in a couple of days and went “GET OUT OF MY SIGHT” and threw it at y’all and did not think much about it after that! until i came over here and started chatting with y’all at least hahaha.

the bill issue is like a whole thing right? and i was definitely wondering how the time travel on one side but not the other might impact him/slow him down. but i also do think it’d be kind of fucking hilarious if stan starts dreaming about bill but like. doesn’t say anything and doesn’t even think it’s a big deal because. you know. they’re just weird dreams. and at this point, stan’s done enough drugs and been through the ringer with stress and shit that it doesn’t even occur to him to question having bizarre dreams about some little geometric freak trying to be nice to him. whaaat? a MATH SHAPE for fucking NERDS in a gay little sweater vest BOW TIE is COMPLIMENTING him in his dreams???

as far as stan’s concerned, his subconscious got REALLY hung up on the whole “ford said some nice shit to me while we were fucking” and just hasn’t let that go yet. which i think would also drive bill up the fucking wall. like stan would have been the harder nut to crack regardless, but to keep getting accused of being stan’s mental manifestation of his brother fucking praise kink???? (which of course invites the whole question of bill going fuck it, and just leaning into that, but i don’t think he’d be as adept that mimicking ford for stan as he was at mimicking stan for ford, so)

ngl, i do love the unicorn hair play, tho. fun fact! i have no idea if i’ll actually write it or not, but i’ve toyed with the idea of doing a role reversal with ford coming back out of the portal still in this 30’s and finding stan and everything else having moved forward 30 years. and the unicorn hair felt like a good way to potentially address the Bill Issue i was getting stopped up on there! but like. i also could absolutely see older!ford convincing stan to wear a collar necklace of unicorn hair to keep bill out of his head.

but i loooooove the idea of them getting mixed up with fiddleford’s cult shit. i don’t even know wtf i’d DO with that but conceptually i love it. cause they’re starting to keep an eye on the townspeople, right? and even if stan’s come up with some kinda story to explain there being kinda sorta two of them now, he wouldn’t know not to be outspoken about the other weird shit happening in town. y’know, on top of being some of the weird shit happening in town. something something, stan getting snatched like lazy susan did over the gnome incident, but ayyye that shit hits really fucking wrong when you’ve actually been kidnapped in the past already and had to chew your way out of a fucking car to get free. i think that’s be neat!!

and especially if we consider fidds being maybe already just shade too far gone, enough that running into stan or having him dragged into the cult would confuse the fuck out of him. because that’s stanford, right? it has to be, he’s coming in and out of stanford’s house, he looks like stanford with a few questionable fashion and hygiene choices — but then again, stanford hadn’t been in great shape the last time he’d shown his face outside of the cabin, either. but his hands are wrong. his hands are wrong and he can’t be stanford but then why does he look like him? easy solution: everybody gets their memory wiped.

something something, stan may not know where the fuck he is, but he knows coming to in a room full of shady guys he doesn’t recognize is either gonna end with him losing teeth or a little bit of dignity, and he’d like to hold on to his teeth a little longer.

[windcarvedlyre]

It's been a long time since I first experienced THH myself, so until I finished streaming ch1 with @vv-ispy (who I'm echoing some thoughts of here) and @thecinderninja last night I forgot just how good that case was.

The 11037 thing is painful, but if we assume that's less blatant to a japanese audience and look at everything else it's really well done.

The slow build of Naegi getting to know Maizono- both of them latching onto each other as the only island of familiarity in a sea of chaos. The way Maizono is such a good idol that she emotes and moves like one even off the stage, but makes it appear so natural that it's difficult to tell what's authentically her and what's a performance.

Maizono gaining his trust, breaking down in his arms and begging for his help. Naegi putting his complete faith in her and trying his best to protect her because he has to- he has nothing else right now- while Maizono, desperate, ruthless Maizono, was planning the entire time to take advantage of him to leave alone in a horrible twist of those words.

Maizono's almost feral expressions as she fought Leon in Naegi's room. The way she regretted everything in her final moments, using every drop of her remaining energy to write Leon's name in her own blood to save him. The way she messed up the N as if she was so weak by that point she could barely keep her finger against the wall.

The way Naegi's brain seemed to circle around the truth despite sign after sign that Maizono wasn't just a victim, struggling to even acknowledge the possibility until Kirigiri gently guided him every step of the way.

The way that, despite everything, despite having to endure eleven people calling him her murderer for hours until he could thoroughly debunk them, he couldn't even be angry at her afterwards. Not even for a second. He went straight to being angry at Monokuma.

The way that there's nothing glorious about Leon's death either. The end of his execution, the class staring silently as harsh lights illuminate his lifeless body, killed by the thing that's caged him his entire life, is one of the most unsettling shots in the series.

It's a powerful way to start the series. Easy enough to ease players into the game without compromising on emotional depth, establishing well some important themes of the series: that noone is pure, that everyone has hidden depths, that the people you'd least expect to do horrible things could be the first to snap if their situation is bad enough, and that death is tragic regardless of how much someone 'deserves' it. Because noone actually does.

[wifewithasecret314]

College Party Fun

Before my husband and I got together, I used to mess around with his best friend back in college. One night my husband was having a party at his house. He lived in a typical rundown college house with five other guys, but it was great for parties because all of the bedrooms were on the 2nd floor and loft while the first floor was mostly open space.

The evening was going really well with probably around 30 people there, and I ended up drinking way more than I should have. At one point during the night, his best friend and I noticed my husband was missing so we went upstairs to look for him. We checked thr 2nd floor but couldnt find him so we decided to check his room. My husband's room happened to be in the loft up a separate flight of stairs where you had to be practically in the room before you could see inside.

When we got to his room, we still couldn't find him. Now I was pretty drunk at this point and I always get super horny when I'm drunk. Seeing an opportunity, I closed the door behind us and locked it. Then I pushed his friend down on the bed and undid his belt. He tried to argue that we shouldn't be doing this on his bed, but he quickly gave in once his cock was in my mouth. Reaching back, I pulled up my little black skirt so he could see my ass then put my hands on his thighs and started sucking him off. Suddenly we heard a knock on the door followed by my future husband yelling at us to stop fucking in his room. I quickly wiped my mouth and fixed my skirt while his friend put his cock away. We quickly unlocked the door and asked where he had been like nothing had happened.

After chatting a bit with him, the friend and I headed back downstairs to the party. On our way down, I noticed that my husband wasn't following so I pulled the friend into the 2nd floor bathroom. Pushing him against the locked door, I dropped to my knees and picked up where I left off, sucking his cock while I looked up at him.

Knowing we likely didn't have much time, he picked me up and bent me over the bathroom sink before pulling up my skirt. Grabbing my hips, he pushed his hard cock inside of me and started fucking me against the sink. It was so hot because there was a mirror in front of the sink so I could watch him fuck me the whole time. Not to be narcissistic, but I looked so hot getting fucked from behind...🥵

With the sound of my suppressed moans and his body slapping against my ass filling the room, someone started pounding on the door followed by my husband yelling at us to stop fucking again. This time we froze, his friend's hard cock still inside me while we waited to see what he would do next. After several long seconds, everything remained quiet...

I slowly started to move my hips back and forth, feeling his dick move in and out of my pussy. His friend remained hesitant, but I kept moving my hips against him. After about a minute, it was still quiet so we assumed my husband had gone back down to the party. At this point the friend grabbed me by the hair and started pounding me against the sink and calling me a naughty slut.

Looking at him in the mirror, I told him to cum inside me. Unable to control himself, he grabbed my hips and immediately came in me, letting out a loud moan. After he finished, we both cleaned up and then made it easy back down to the party like nothing had happened.

I found out later that the best friend had bragged to my husband about how good it felt fucking me raw and coming inside me. I often wonder what else he shared with my husband about those friends with benefits days...

[msschemmenti]

girl next door 🏠 - 4

a/n: warning you now— i feel like this is sooo much dialogue. but im a whore for dialogue so 🤷🏾‍♀️ forgive me

“When I say girls, you say night! Girls-” Garcia bounced as she rang JJ and Emily’s doorbell giddily.

JJ and Emily rolled their eyed lovingly (you just had to love Garcia). “I’ll get it.” Emily shrugged, leaving JJ to mix God knows what kind of cocktail. It was very clear that tonight was going to be a rather wild night for the trio.

“Girls!” Garcia greeted with a grin as the door opened.

“Night,” Emily said with far less enthusiasm.

“Oh, say it like you mean it! Girls!” Garcia chastised on the doorstep.

“Night, now come inside before I change my mind.” Emily teased. Garcia rolled her eyes in exasperation but made her way inside in search of JJ and the alcohol. SHe dropped her overnight bag on the couch and found the blonde pouring up their first round.

“Ah my sweet beautiful blonde bartender. Let’s get these drinks flowing because your sassy broody partner is not participating in my chants.”

“Emily, you know the chanting is the most important part of Girls night.” JJ scolded.

“And here I was thinking it was the alcohol.”

“Hardy har har, drink up buttercup!” Penelope interrupted, shoving a glass in Emily’s hands and clinking her glass against both of theirs before throwing the drink back.

“Pen! That is not a shot.” JJ gaped watching the tech analyst empty her glass.

“A shot is a shot– no matter how large. Pour me another.” Garcia demanded slapping the glass on the counter and sliding it toward JJ. Both profilers shook their heads in disbelief but followed Garcia’s lead and finished their glasses before pouring another. With arms loaded with snacks and drinks refilled, they made their way to the living room to commence their girls night.

It was just passing 8, when Garcia sat up rather excitedly. “What’s new in the neighborhood, hm? Anything interesting with your hot and super cool neighbor?”

JJ and Emily both attempt to mask their facial expressions, but that simple act is enough for Garcia to beg for information. “Listen– there’s really nothing to tell aside from neighborly things.” Emily shrugged.

“Yeah, she’s an early riser so I see her when I run. Em sees her when we get home. Very neighborly.” JJ adds.

“Uh huh, and are you both still blind to her sapphic desires?” Garcia questioned, calling to their first meeting.

“Well not exactly. We actually got a very clear indicator of her preferences a few weeks ago.” JJ smirked thinking back to their date night. At Garcia’s obvious interest, she continued. “Em and I had dinner in town for once and stumbled upon our dear sweet neighbor on the worst date of her life with a stuffy older woman.”

“I think stuffy is putting it mildly. She was absolutely awful and I only spent 10 minutes with her in the bathroom. I don’t know how she managed the whole evening.” Emily grumbled.

“Oh, this is quite marvelous. So we know for sure, she likes the lady bits. What’s your plan casanovas?”

“What? There’s no plan Penelope. She’s our neighbor and attractive as she is, that feels really close to home.” Emily replied, swirling her drink a bit.

“Well yes, she is geographically close to home.” Garcia hummed thoughtfully before startling again. “Yes, so close– we should invite her over right now.”

“Woah, what? No!” Emily and JJ protested.

“Yes, you said it yourself. There’s no plan in place. She’s your neighbor. Everything is very neighborly. She’s too close to home, blah blah boring excuses. If that’s the case, you should have no problem with me invited her over to girls night. Unless there’s something else you’re not saying…” Garcia goaded.

“No, nothing else to add. We just think– she’d probably busy. It’s Friday and she’s young. She’s probably not even home.” JJ excused with a shrug.

“Well there’s only one way to find out. I’ll be back.” Garcia grinned, swinging to her feet and out the door before Emily and JJ could even think to stop her. With wide eyes they both scrambled to their front window to watch Garcia move down the sidewalk.

-

“Well well well, Penelope Garcia! To what do I owe the pleasure?” Y/n smiled as she leaned against her front door.

“Hi! Wanna get drunk?” Garcia grinned, finally feeling the alcohol she’d chugged.

“Oh? Sugar, you sure you’re not already drunk?” Y/n giggled curiously.

Garcia only grinned harder, “Maybe but that’s not important. We’re having a girls night and you have to come hang out with us.”

Y/n hesitated a bit, “Oh no I don’t want to intrude–”

“You’re not! You’re not, I promise. Both Em and JJ are eagerly awaiting our return right now.”

Y/n looked at the cocoon of blankets she’d been wrapped in on the couch. She looked at the book she’d been working through and shrugged, “Sure, why not? My book’ll be here tomorrow. Let me grab my keys and we can go.” At Y/n’s agreeance, Garcia whooped in celebration. “I gotta warn you though, I’ve been told my accent gets thick as hell when I drink.”

-

No one really knew how they’d gotten to this point. They really could only blame the alcohol and Garcia’s natural ability to pull the most insane things from the depths of one's soul. But they were too far gone to reel it in.

“Okay okay, longest relationship.” Garcia prompts pointedly at the women sprawled across Emily and JJ’s black sectional.

Emily shrugs, “You’re looking at her.” JJ points finger guns over at Emily with a wink before nodding in confirmation.

“Over a year with Kevin. A rotten man from work you don’t know.” Garcia supplies as Y/n nods in understanding. “And you my dear?”

“Well if we’re talking exclusive relationships, a year and a half.” Y/n answer around her glass.

“And if we’re talking non-exclusive?” Garcia asked leaning forward on the couch.

“Well then in that case, it’d be closer to four years.” Y/n shrugged.

“Four years?” JJ asked, shock clearly written across her face. “How does that even happen?”

“I’m from the South. Everyone was closeted then.”

“Oh what’s the story there?” Emily prodded, leaning closer to the younger woman.

Y/n laughed, cheeks red under Emily’s gaze and the alcohol, “Well as I said before, everyone is closeted. It’s high school– hormones are wild, everyone wants to fit in. My neighbor was a cheerleader who couldn’t remember a historical date to save her life. And I was tutoring in more than just History.”

“Oh my god, you little minx.” Garcia grinned. Her smile turned a bit mischievous as her eyes panned to the two older women flanking their neighbor. “But essentially, you were in a four-year-long neighbors with benefits situation?”

Y/n eyed the tech analyst curiously. “Mmhm, that was very formative and educational. I think she’s married with three kids now.”

“That tracks with everything I’ve every known about closeted girls in small towns.” JJ nods. “I’m curious though, how’d you get to the year and a half official relationship after the friends with benefits thing?”

Y/n placed her empty cup on the coffee table and turned to her right, giving JJ her undivided attention. “Well, I graduated high school and ended up in the vocal performance program at NYU. As you can imagine it was much easier to be queer in that space. Met a lot of people, did a lot of drugs. Really leaned into the experience. Absolutely no one I saw while in college was ever particularly serious and that didn’t really change until last year.”

“Wow, only one serious relationship in your whole 26 years of life?” Garcia pouted.

“Oh don’t look so sad about it honey. I’m a really strong advocate for being where you feel happy. And if that means brief trysts with the girl in my Aural Harmony class it’s okay. And if it means a year and a half with a wonderful woman– even better. But just know it will always be with a woman.” Y/n winked.

“So how does that look for you here in DC? We know that last date wasn’t fruitful, have you been on any others?” Emily asked.

“Oh god don’t even remind me. You know she’s called me every Friday since that date? Absolutely insane,” Y/n threw her head back against the couch. All the women groaned and boo’d collectively. “I’m not sure what DC will be for me. I’m open to whatever comes. Grayson, my best friend back in Kentucky, is begging me to get laid. You know,” Y/n started, eyes sweeping from Emily to JJ. “It’s extremely unfortunate that you two are together.” Y/n grumbled.

“Oh?” JJ asked through a chuckle.

“Like I’m positive you deserve each other and are great together— but it’s one of those things where all the sexy, smart, not crazy women are dating each other. Amazing for you, terrible for us.” Both JJ and Emily’s eyes widened a bit and they eye each other over the younger woman’s head.

“Well you know, they’re not that selfish. They’ve been known to share themselves with other women.” Garcia shared— eyes closed. The room grew quiet as both JJ and Emily glared at Garcia’s profile and Y/n’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“I must be drunker than i thought. Cause I could’ve sworn Garcia just suggested that y’all have some kinda open relationship thing going on.” Y/n spoke through a hiccuped giggle.

JJ and Emily laughed nervously and JJ replied, “I’ve been told I’ve got a heavy hand while playing bartender.”

“Trust me no complaints from me,” Y/n winked at the blonde (much slower than usual). She glanced at her phone and heaved a sigh as she rocked to her feet. “This was very fun ladies but I’ve got to get to bed.”

“Oh you could stay, Garcia’s sleeping over.” JJ suggested watching the younger woman sway a bit.

“No no, no need. I can make it the 20 steps to my front door. Thank you though.” Y/n declined, finally feeling stable enough to take a step toward the door.

“At least let one of us walk you back, hm?” Emily asked, already following behind the younger woman toward the door.

“Yes ma’am!”

“I expected a bit more fight in that.” Emily chuckled, slipping her shoes on. “I’ll be back, Jen.”

“Who am I to decline a chivalrous escort?” Y/n shrugged and linked arms with the older woman. The walk wasn’t long at all and once Y/n was stood in her doorway she sent Emily a sleepy smile. “Thank you for walking me back and for letting me crash your girls' night.”

“Anytime,” Emily smiled softly. “Let us know if you need anything, alright?” Y/n nodded in understanding and watched as Emily headed down the sidewalk.

“Goodnight!” Her southern twang floated through the night and Emily fought a laugh as she waved and returned the sentiments.

As soon as she was back in her own house, she rejoined JJ and Penelope on the couch and turned her gaze to the colorful woman they both loved. “Pen, you my dear sweet friend, are sooooo in for it tomorrow.”