#I was going to do a drawing at the top at least but honestly I have not managed to kick myself into working on those refs again yet...
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fuzzydreamin · 8 months ago
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My OC as...
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I uh, got tagged by Bo back in January for this thing... Yeah.
Do it if you want.
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muirneach · 7 months ago
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soooo annoying how my mom is always like ‘you kids are so unappreciative to your aunt!!’ girl u hate her ass dont act like we’re in the wrong…..
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slut4thebroken · 30 days ago
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size kink
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Jason Todd x reader
Summary | He as a size kink. That’s it lol.
Warnings | Smut, size kink, manhandling, praise, creampie, gaping, cockwarming.
Words | 1k
Notes | 😵‍💫 that fucking comic panel tho
Ao3 link | <3
Masterlist
Kinktober | day 6: manhandling + size kink
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Can y’all help me come up with a title😭 I’m literally so exhausted and I just want to pass out but I have to post it within two hours for it to still be day 6 skfhsk
Jason Todd has a huge size kink… He’s so massive that it’s honestly hard not to because there are barely any female body types that aren’t smaller than him. Tall, big, buff— all smaller than him, usually by a lot too. 
Especially you. You’re pretty much the same size as the average woman, but standing next to Jason— he practically dwarfs you. Whenever he holds your hand, you usually end up just holding two of his fingers because it’s more comfortable that way. Even when he places his hand on your thigh, he can completely cover the entire width of it. 
Even though he loves the way it feels to hold you, how easy it is to lift you and manhandle you however he wants… one of his most favorite things is how small your cunt is too. It wasn’t abnormally small— it was proportionate to your body— but compared to his abnormally large cock? Even just compared to his fingers, you could barely take it. 
He always tried to do as much foreplay as possible because, even though he thinks it’s hot when your face scrunches up in pain as you do your best to take him, he doesn’t actually want to hurt you or make it not good for you. So he usually eats you out, slowly working you open on his fingers. He almost always gives you at least one orgasm before even attempting to fit his cock inside you, but even after the time he made you come over and over again for two hours straight, you were still so fucking tight. 
You let out these soft whimpers and sounds of pain that make his cock throb. Sometimes you gasp out and desperately cling to him, trying to ground yourself. He always eases his cock in slowly, holding your hand or cupping your cheek and whispering soft praises into your ear. 
“So good at taking my cock, baby. I’m almost halfway.” You whined and squeezed your eyes shut, focusing on taking deep breaths and relaxing your muscles. Jason couldn’t help but look down between your bodies, watching his cock slowly disappear into your tight heat. “Almost there, princess.” His voice was low and thick with poorly restrained arousal. When he finally bottomed out, you let out a pained whimper and he closed his eyes, trying not to bust his load right then and there. 
“Such a good girl. You’re doing so good, baby.” He murmured tenderly, leaning down to kiss over your neck as his hand snaked down to rub your clit. You usually signaled whenever you were ready for him to start moving and he’d slowly draw his hips back, then push in again at the same pace. 
Sometimes though, he’d stand and hold you in the air, lifting you up and down on his cock, limiting your squirming significantly. Or if you were riding him, he’d grab your hips and move you however fast and hard he wanted— even if you put all your strength into staying seated or moving away, he was always stronger than you. It took practically no effort for him to lift you up and down, fucking you like you were his own personal sex doll. 
While he usually liked being able to kiss you and watch your expression contort in pain as your walls were forced to accommodate his cock, he also liked putting you on your stomach. Sometimes he’d put you on your knees and push your face into the bed, but he liked laying on top of you even more. With his large legs caging in your much smaller ones, it made you even tighter. He loved being able to completely lay on top of you and wrap his arms around you, forcing you to feel every inch of his thick cock going in and out of your pussy. That position always made you feel trapped, but more in an exciting way rather than an anxious way because you knew he’d get off of you in a heartbeat if you told him to. 
“That’s it… Be a good girl and just take it, baby.” He whispered breathily, lips brushing your ear. You let out a choked moan and he moved his hand to squeeze your neck. “You just lay there and let me use my favorite little fleshlight.” Every single time— without fail— your cunt would get impossibly tighter when he talked to you like that. 
Something else he loved; the amount of come he released was proportional to his body as well… Sometimes he liked to paint your pretty face, completely drench you in his seed, but usually he liked filling you up. He liked dragging his hips back until his cock finally dislodged from your tight pussy that was practically trying to suck him in, and watching his come dribble out of your gaping hole, down your puffy folds. 
“Oh, look at you, baby…” He cooed, voice raspy and thick. You whined and squirmed, enjoying the feeling of him filling you up and his seed leaking out of your abused cunt almost as much as he did. 
“Squeeze that little cunt, princess. Try to keep my come inside.” He ordered softly, grabbing your ass and pulling you open to get a perfect view of your holes. He watched them flutter, but even when you tried your hardest, his cock had stretched you out too much for your hole to be able to tighten up again so soon. 
“Poor thing… can’t keep my come in that needy little pussy.” He chuckled, collecting the leaking come on his fingers and pushing it back into your hole. “But that’s okay, baby. I’ll help you…” you let out a choked moan when he forced his cock back in, stretching you once again, “keep you nice and plugged up, huh?” He laid down over you again, but turned so you were both on your sides in a spooning position with his cock still deep in your pussy— It would usually stay there until you fell asleep, but sometimes only until he got worked up enough for round two. 
(I’m still bad at ending one shots lol)
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moonstruckme · 22 days ago
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hi lovie!! i was wondering if i could request a poly marauders band au x reader smut (preferably fem, but gn is also fine!!) where james, sirius, and remus are rockstars and they have a gf who is very girly with like the pinks and mini skirts and bows y’know. i literally have no plot, just cute gf and poly marauders band au smut LOL. sorry if this sucks, but i am CRAVING more poly marauders band au fics on here so bad. thank so much if u do write it!! xoxo
Thank you for requesting <3
cw: smut mdni, fingering, praise, some voyerism
rockstar!marauders x coquette!reader ♡ 894 words
There aren’t very many doors that lock backstage. So while a lot of the time dating rockstars means fancy restaurants and first class flights and giant, plush hotel beds, currently you’re being finger-fucked in a bathroom stall for lack of better options. 
“Angel,” James laughs, nose smushed against your cheek, “you know I love your sounds, but you’re going to have to be quieter than that.” 
You stifle a moan that turns into a whine. You’re honestly not sure how much of the work of keeping you upright is being done by your legs at this point, and how much is being done by James’ fingers buried in your cunt. You’re tugging anxiously on the curls at his nape, your own neck arching as you’re razed from within. 
James always has an excess of energy before shows. Lately, he’s found a new favorite way of working it off. Last week he’d dragged Remus into a storage closet, then last night Sirius had emerged from the boys’ dressing room looking even more rock-and-roll than usual, and tonight he’d plied you with kisses until the next thing you knew a stall door was being locked behind you and your panties were being pushed aside under your skirt. 
You suppress a moan as his thick fingers plunge deeper into your cunt, biting down on your bottom lip. Your fingers drive into his shoulders. 
James pushes your cardigan off your shoulder with his free hand, drawing the strap of your tank top down with it. “What do you need this for, hm?” 
“It’s always cold in here,” you manage. His hand finds your breast, squeezing the way he knows how. You push your forehead into his, and James smiles, giving you a conciliatory kiss. 
“Are you cold now?” 
You shake your head against his. He laughs, kissing you again. 
“Good.” You’re sure he’s the only thing keeping you up now, his hand under your skirt and your back propped against the wall. “Least I’m good for something, huh? I can keep my girl warm.” 
You have every intention of telling him he’s good for much more than that, as soon as you can find the words. You hear the bathroom door open before you get the chance. 
You go instantly quiet, covering your mouth with a hand and trying to steady your breathing, but James’ fingers keep moving in and out of you all the same. 
“James?” Remus calls. “You in here?” 
You sag with relief. 
“Yeah,” James says back. “S’it just you?” 
“Why?” Sirius’ voice rings with faux hurt. “Do you not want to see me?” 
“Just making sure.” James reaches over, unlocking your stall. 
“The stage manager’s got his knickers in a twist,” Sirius says as he opens the door. “He thinks you’ve run—oh. Hi, gorgeous.” 
You hide your face in James’ neck. You hear Remus chuckle as James rubs your back, half soothing you and half wrecking you as his fingers spread inside you. You make a stymied keening sound. 
“Do I need to go find him?” James asks. 
“No, probably not.” Sirius’ interest is palpable. You open your eyes to peek over James’ shoulder, and a wicked grin tilts his lips. “He seems like he’s just uptight. Having a good time, babydoll?” 
You imagine it’s a rhetorical question, but James’ fingers work another pleady whimper out of you anyway. Sirius’ eyes light, and Remus comes closer, kissing your bare shoulder. 
“Are you helping Jamie out, lovely girl?” 
“Think it’s the other way around,” you pant. James laughs. 
“No, make no mistake,” Sirius shoots you a wink, “this is one hundred percent selfish of him.” 
“‘nd I appreciate it.” James smears a kiss over your lips. “I would’ve liked to eat her out, but there wasn’t anywhere to put her down.” 
“I am not lying on the bathroom floor,” you say again, just in case he’s getting any ideas. It doesn’t sound very authoritative when your voice wobbles at the end of it, your orgasm looming. 
Remus coos, sensing your ascent. “You’ve got it,” he murmurs, kissing your shoulder again. “You look so pretty all worked open like this. Doesn’t she look pretty, Sirius?” 
Sirius hums, giving you an appreciative up-down. “Yeah, you really ought to have known this would happen when you put on that skirt, sweet thing.” 
James grunts his agreement, and then you’re tipping over the edge. Remus helps keep you from slipping down to the bathroom floor as James brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean. 
“There you are, good girl. That felt good, didn’t it, dove? Jamie?” 
“Fuck yeah,” James confirms. When your focus comes back to you, you can see the large, insistent bulge in his pants. 
“Here,” you mumble, reaching for his zipper. You start to drop to your knees, but Remus catches you, urging you back up. 
“I’ve got it, lovely,” he assures you. “So long as you don’t mind. That way Sirius can fix your hair before we have to go out.” 
You frown. “My hair?” You touch the back. It appears you’d lost track of things while you were being driven into the bathroom wall. Your bow is crumpled, your hair tangled around it. “Shit, how bad is it?” 
James offers you a half-sheepish grin. 
“It’s fine, baby.” Sirius takes you by the hand, leading you towards the mirror. “It’s rock and roll.”
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thevoidstaredback · 7 months ago
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It's always graveyards. Why is it always graveyards? They're creepy as hell and, well... that's it. On the bright side, the Protection Spirits watching the gates recognize him and realize the danger he's in. Well, maybe he wasn't in real danger because the Bats and Birds don't really do the whole purposefully harming civilians things, but they are scary as hell! Chasing him down like a bat straight outta hell- obviously he was gonna run! They cornered him! Maybe he'll invest in getting them lessons in how to interact with people in and out of costume?
Honestly, Nightwing, Danny expected better of you. At least Red Hood and Signal know how to treat innocents.
Here's the thing about Protection and Guardian Spirits, though. They don't like intruders. If you're running from something and you don't have time to ask permission to enter, you best say "thank you" and bring them shiny things on your next visit. If you do have time to ask permission, you ask permission. If they think you're a threat or rude, they won't let you enter whatever they're guarding.
"Thank you," Danny said as he slowed to a walk further into the graveyard, the sound of the gates slamming closed behind him confirmation that the Bat and his gaggle wouldn't be following him in.
Wasting no time, Danny pulled a piece of chalk from his pocket. It was a handy little thing he'd picked up during his stay in the House of Mysteries. Draw and door, tell it where you wanna go, open it, and go through! Beetlejuice style. Though, unlike what the Handbook for the Recently Deceased says, these doors won't actually open a door to the afterlife. He fixed that tiny glitch a while ago.
Anyway, a quick few chalk lines on the side of a mausoleum later, and Danny was opening a door to Fawcett, Philadelphia. Probably not the best choice, considering that he was trying to stay away from the Justice League, but it's better than Metropolis.
"Whoa." Damn it! He should've stayed home. "What was that, mister?"
Danny made sure the door closed behind him, praying for strength. Why did he feel like several deities were laughing at him? "Hey, kid. Can you, um, maybe not say anything about that?"
The kid, short brown hair and a red jacket stood out the most to Danny for some reason, seemed very amused. "You're gonna have to buy my silence."
Again, Danny let out a quiet, long suffering sigh. "Coffee is so not worth it." Looking at the kid, he said, "Alright, fine. I was getting coffee anyway, I'll buy ya lunch. Know any good places?"
Grinning, the kid cheered, "Hell yeah! Follow me!"
Resigned, Danny followed after the kid, easily keeping pace. About a block later, he figured he should probably get the kid's name. "I'm Danny."
"Billy."
"No last name?"
"Fae rules, dude. What's your excuse?"
He had to give it to him. "Touché."
Another three blocks of walking, Billy finally stopped at a cafe. It was a quaint place with stained white brick and a dark grey roof. There were metal chairs and tables outside the building surrounded by a wrought iron fence. The table umbrellas and the awning over the black door were light blue, matching the curtains in the inside.
The inside walls were painted baby blue with a white ceiling and a pinewood floor. The tables and chairs were all stained black with light pink cushions and table cloths. The curtains, as observed before, were all baby blue, tied back with baby pink ribbons. The lights were barely yellow, giving the room a warm feel. The counters were white with black paneling on the outside and white granite as the tops.
"Welcome in," the young man at the register greeted with a smile, "What can I get you two started with today?"
Danny envied the man. He'd obviously not been doing this long enough to gain the veteran's shine to his eye. He turned to look at the menu after telling Billy to get whatever he wanted. A mistake he'll probably pay for. "I'd like a large Red Eye, equal parts coffee and espresso, with cinnamon, honey, chocolate syrup, mint, and vodka, please."
The 'newbie' light in the man's eyes dimmed a little bit. "Um, we don't carry vodka." Glad that's the only thing he's worried about. Priorities.
Danny clicked his tongue. "Oh, well, it was worth a shot. I'd like everything else, though, please. Mix it at your own discretion."
"Alright," he was very valiant to go back to grinning, "Anything else?"
Danny motioned for Billy and the kid stepped up. "Can I get a large mocha, three chocolate chip cookies, and two sandwiches?"
The blond entered the order. "Of course! That'll be $25.37." A quick card swipe from Danny. "Thank you very much, we'll have your order out to you soon!"
The two didn't say a word as they chose a table in the corner. Danny let Billy take the seat that was open to the rest of the cafe so he wouldn't feel cornered. He had a good view of the door, though, so he wasn't complaining.
"So, how'd you do that?" Billy asked after they'd gotten their orders.
"How'd I do what?" Danny sipped his drink.
"How'd you walk outta that wall? It's solid!"
"Magic."
"I guessed that much."
"Then why'd you ask?"
"Will you teach me?"
"No."
"You didn't even think about it!"
"Okay," He paused. "No."
"Not fair." he pouted.
Putting his drink on the table, Danny summed as much fake-it-till-you-make-it energy as he could. "Magic isn't a toy and takes years of practice to get a handle on, not to mention you have to actually have an aptitude for it before you can even try. Besides, I don't know you nearly well enough to trust you with anything else."
Billy finished the cookie he was eating. "I can do it! You just gotta teach me!"
Another sigh that Danny had stopped counting. "Look, you seem like a good kid, but I'm not gonna teach you magic."
"Why not!"
"However," he continued, ignoring the demand, "I'm not gonna leave ya fully defenselessness."
"What do you mean?" Billy backed away slightly, his eyes narrowing as he moved to be able to run quickly.
Another sip. "Based off of the dirt you're covered in, the grease in your hair, and the overall poor condition of your clothes, I'm gonna bet that you're a street kid. So," he pulled a small card from his pocket, very aware that Billy was watching his hand aptly, "I'm going to leave you with this."
Slowly, the brunet took it and turned it over. "What it is?"
The white card had the initials DP in the middle, circled by an Ouroboros. The initials were completely solid, but the snake of the Ouroboros was made up of tiny runes of protection and health and healing and good fortune.
"My calling card. If you're ever in danger, hold that to your chest and ask for help. I'll be there."
Still obviously suspicious, Billy took a moment to scrutinize the card. It was cute to watch the kid act like he knew what he was looking at or for. When he seemed satisfied, he shoved the card into the inner pocket sewn into his jacket. "Thanks."
"No problem, kid," Pulling out his phone, Danny saw the time and stood, "I've gotta go now. I assume I've sufficiently bought your silence on the whole magic thing?"
Billy grinned, "I guess, but you gotta come visit me, okay?"
He chuckled, "Sure thing. See ya."
Part 2 Part 4
(I don't drink coffee, so Idk how that shit works)
Tag list: @zaiothe4th
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the-s1lly-corner · 7 months ago
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Various Creepypastas x Reader who sleeps in weird spaces
3/5 of the prizes for @reivelmin !!
Post contains: Eyeless Jack, Laughing Jack, Hoodie, Masky, Ticci Toby, Liu, and Bloody Painter!
I actually dont think I've written for Helen before?? I know I havent written for Liu yet so heres to hoping my takes and hcs are accurate!
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EYELESS JACK
When he first catches you in the closet sleeping nearly standing straight up he nearly yelps. You made the stoic eyeless Jack, the man who rarely flinches or jumps at anything, jolt. Naturally he wakes you up and asks why you're in there, but no answer really satisfies him. He tries to drag you to bed and for the night everything is.. normal. But this will be far from the last time he finds you sleeping in an odd place, seemingly unbothered. He eventually asks if theres something going on with you, even dumbly asking if theres something wrong with the bed.. but alas, nothing. You just.. sleep like that.. he often drags you into bed so you dont get sore or fall over
LAUGHING JACK
He thinks you're pranking him, and of course he starts cracking up. He commends you for getting him good, only for his laughter to die down when he realizes that you are in fact asleep while curled in a cabinet. For a moment he thinks you.. died.. or worse was murdered and stuffed into the odd place. He nearly rips you out of the space before you finally crack an eye open. Please dont scare him like that again, he does not take abandonment well even if the scenario is someone possibly dying. Once the shock is over with and he grows more used to it, the humor he originally found in it returns.. it almost turns into a game of where hes going to find you next and what position you're going to be in.. he does not bother to take you to bed and if theres room hes going to squeeze in with you wherever you are
MASKY
Hes probably done that at least once, he sometimes watches you in your sleep on the occasion that you actually fall asleep in a normal place (bed, couch, ect) and he kind of slumps into the corner he was sulking in. Though you... certainly one up him when he catches you sleeping on top of the fridge! If you're in a hard to reach place or really deep into it he leaves you be without attempting to get you out. Eventually he kind of just accepts that this is something you do and completely leaves you alone unless you're in the way of something. More likely to wake you up than moving you out of the way, though... you've probably gotten jumpscared by him simply standing there waiting for you to wake up
HOODIE
Very similar to Masky but I do think Hoodie would take you to bed so you dont get sick (floors are cold, people!) Or getting a knot somewhere in your muscles. Partly because he will likely be too busy with his work to tend to you, partly also because he can be stern when it comes to your health. Theres no ifs ands or buts, hes taking you to bed and hes going to keep you there! Hes a big dude too, he'll hold you in place next to him if he has to
TICCI TOBY
He gets it, honestly. If it's like a security or a comfort thing or just out of impulse he gets it. You might find him sleeping in ungodly positions when he crashes at your place, or sleeping under the bed. He has used a chair as a blanket before. He might feel inclined to try to one up you, actually. All fun and games of course! He also does not carry you to bed, and similar to LJ he might just join you if theres room! Just be warned when sleeping around him he might draw on your face or something.. definitely takes your phone so he can take pictures of you to make fun of you later
LIU
For a minute he doesnt realize exactly what's going on. He might actually pick your stuffed animal up and give it back to you and shut the door of the closet before ripping it open as he stares at you. Gently shakes your shoulder to wake you up, and while he might have to get a little harsh to actually get you awake hes apologizing for waking you up. So so so many questions. Why are you doing that? Why dont you come to bed? Will not take no for an answer. He wants answers, if there are any. After you offer an explanation hes a lot more understanding about it although still very.. confused. Are you not worried about falling over in your sleep? Or even just waking up uncomfortable...? That aside how do you even.. sleep standing up like that, and how long were you like that..? He just.. accepts it
BLOODY PAINTER
Very neutral about it, but he does entertain you with questions when he catches you awake in the morning. It doesnt matter where you sleep, hes not going to disturb you unless you get in his way. But considering hes claimed a corner in your home for himself and his belongings, you don't have to worry about that! Despite claiming to not mind all that much you still seem to wake up in bed despite falling asleep under it. He'll never admit to moving you, but theres no other person who could have done it.. he also wont ever say it but he does sometimes want you to lay next to him
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giannaln4 · 2 months ago
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Silly Little Bet
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lando norris x artist!reader
summary: You were an artist and Lando loved to do what you did best with you, even if he wasn't very good at it. (917 words)
warnings: this turns into a make out (not heavy, very short), use of y/n
a/n: hi lovelies! i know i said i was going to take a little break, but honestly i just need to not think about quali today (still crying about it idk what to tell you). anyway, this is incredibly short so i’m sorry but i still hope you enjoy it! pls let me know what you think!! feedback is very much appreciated 🫶🏻 i also wanted to thank everyone who reached out to me and sent support ❤️‍🩹 ily all so much, i really appreciate it!!
↺ back to navigation — send me a request!
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Quiet nights were your absolute favourites. Getting to spend time with your boyfriend without having to worry about some schedule one of you had to stick to was perfect, to say the least. You always found a way to occupy yourselves, doing anything and nothing at the same time. 
Tonight, though, you got to do one of your favourite activities: art. You were an artist, a professional one, and of course he loved that about you; he loved seeing you in your element, so focused on what you did best, and even though he didn’t know yet, you loved dragging him with you so you could see him struggle a bit to at least not be the worst artist the world has ever seen.
Now, he was extremely talented, and if he weren’t a racer, he would be somewhat of an artist; he’s said it himself many times, but that was before he met you, because compared to you, he would never say that about himself, no matter how many times you have said it to him. 
Right now, you found yourselves sitting on your shared bed, facing each other, trying to win a silly little bet you made earlier. It was simple, really. You were supposed to draw the other person, and whoever loses would have to come up with a plan for dinner, which the both of you already knew would end up being a homemade meal, eating it on the couch, and watching some dumb show. This really worked out for him because, as talented as he was, he still struggled to draw real people, and he knew he was setting himself up when he accepted.
You knew that too, and you also knew he only gave in so he could have another one of your drawings of him. But that was okay, because another one of your favourite things was to admire his focused expression while he tried to replicate someone on a blank piece of paper. 
If he was being completely honest, the top reason he loved doing some type of art with you was because you would always come up to him and help with something, holding and guiding his hand or just being really close to his face as you explained something, so he would never say no to that suggestion.
“Okay, so I do you and you do me. Do I have to paint it as well?” He asked as you poured some of your art supplies on the bed.
“No, just a quick sketch,” you replied, scanning the bed as you carefully chose the pencil you wanted to use. “I’m starving, anyway.”
You started sketching each other; you were faster (and probably better) than him, but you couldn’t help but blush any time his eyes fixated on your face for too long, studying every aspect of you to try to draw it. After several minutes, you were done, just finishing up a few details before placing the paper on the bedside table next to you, away from him so he wouldn’t see it yet.
“How is it going?” You asked.
He looked up at you and yelled, “Don’t move!” When you started to get up.
"Sorry,” you whispered, going back to your previous position.
You stayed like that for a while, watching as Lando looked at you repeatedly and then back at the paper, occasionally erasing stuff. He was almost done, but there was one thing holding him back. “I can’t get it right,” he sighed, dropping the pencil.
“What can’t you get right?”
“Your lips. They look too big or too small, and now the paper looks worn out from erasing so much.” He was clearly frustrated.
“Can I see it?”
“Promise you won’t laugh?” Lando asked you with an embarrassed look.
“Of course I’m not going to laugh; why would I do that?”
“You are a real artist, Y/N. You finished a while ago, and I’ve been stuck here trying to fix it, but I’ve only made it worse.”
“Lando, you are actually talented; I don’t make you do art with me because I wanna have a laugh. C’mon, show me.”
He sighed again and slowly turned the paper, showing you the drawing. “It looks terrible.”
Your eyes set on the paper, and an endeared smile appeared on your face. “It looks great, baby.”
"No, it doesn’t; as I said, you’re an artist, and you know exactly what’s wrong with it.”
“I mean it." You whispered, leaving your spot on the bed and sitting next to him, “Maybe the proportions are a bit off, but it does look great, I promise.”
“Thanks,” he replied with a smile, a moment of silence filling the room as you both stared at the drawing. “You know, maybe I just need to take a closer look at them.”
“Oh- I guess that would be helpful." You turned your body to face him, cupping his cheek and brushing away a few curls that rested on his forehead. “Do you want help?”
He nodded and broke the distance between you, locking his lips with yours as he pulled you onto his lap and his hands fell on your hips to intensify the kiss. You got closer and closer, pausing when your bodies couldn’t possibly get any closer to each other even if you tried.
“You know I can actually help you,” you said against his lips and in between kisses.
“Uh huh” Lando replied, not really thinking about the drawing anymore.
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ckret2 · 5 months ago
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Chapter 53 of human Bill Cipher not properly appreciating the fact that Mabel is his only friend on Earth:
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Mabel has read a book about Bill's home dimension and is prepared to interrogate him all about where he comes from.
Bill is willing to do anything to avoid being interrogated.
(Featuring SEVEN illustrations, provided by 🌈 MABEL 💖)
####
Flatworld, from what Mabel had read, was probably literally the worst place to ever exist. 
The book was a hundred pages of an old-fashioned formal-sounding super boring guy rambling on about the most egregiously evil society Mabel had ever had the horror of reading about.
Society consisted of a bunch of geometric shapes—which in concept sounded half nerdy and half adorable—but they'd made a brutally oppressive government organized by quantity of sides, with infinite-sided circles at the top and three-sided triangles at the bottom, and one-sided lines—women—oppressed into near silence. Career options, educational opportunities, who you could love, were all determined by your sides. Irregular shapes—quadrilaterals that weren't squares, triangles that weren't equilateral, anyone with a side too long or too short—were presumed from birth to be criminally insane. Each generation had sons with one more side than their father—and they had to, because having higher-ranked sons was the only way families could climb out of poverty. When babies were born with too few or irregular sides, poor families abandoned them—or worse—and rich families put them through oft-fatal bone-snapping surgeries to regularize or increase their sides. Knowledge of the third dimension was considered heretical, and anybody claiming it was real was locked in an insane asylum.
There was a lot of mathy stuff in the book about a square meeting a magical sphere and going on educational adventures to the higher and lower dimensions; but most of it passed by her in a blur. When she'd finished reading last night, Mabel had lay in bed for an hour, staring at the ceiling, trying not to think about dead baby shapes and fighting the urge to wake Bill up just so she could hug him; until she'd finally drifted off and woken up in her own bed.
At least, thank goodness, the bit about banning colors so lower shapes couldn't contour themselves to look like higher shapes was false. But she was sure that at least part of the story was true. And it had happened to somebody she knew. It was a lot to process.
So she processed it the way she usually did the stories that weighed on her: by creating a self-insert and pulling out her art supplies.
####
"You're drawing fan art of Flatworld?" Bill asked warily.
"I wouldn't call it fan art. I'd say it's more of a... thoughtful artistic critique. I don't think I'm a 'fan' of the second dimension," Mabel said. "No offense."
"Sure."
Mabel had designed a shapesona of herself: a pink heart with a rainbow-colored outline, a big sparkly eye, and skinny black stick limbs like Bill's. If, as Bill had said, colors weren't illegal, she didn't see any reason she couldn't be rainbow. The heart shape was maybe unconventional, but Bill hadn't said she couldn't be a heart yet, so she was sticking with it for now.
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She'd honestly expected Bill to come over and interrogate her about her creation long before now. Usually, when she was doing art and he was unoccupied, he was hovering right by her, examining her work and dropping hints—some more subtle than others—that she should draw him next. But she hadn't immediately noticed when he'd silently drifted into the room, and she wasn't sure how long he'd been there before speaking up. He was still leaning on the wall, arms crossed, watching askance from halfway across the living room as Mabel worked with her crayons, as if she were playing with a chemistry set and he was trying to figure out if she was building a bomb.
"Is Flatworld really about your world?" Mabel asked. "Did you tell Edward Bishop Bishop all that stuff? With the circles and all the laws about shapes and stuff?"
Bill mulled over the question, staring into space. Mabel had never seen his face look so inexpressive before—at least, not since his first night as a captive, after he'd gotten all the screaming out and had looked too exhausted to feel. "We talked," he conceded. "I'm surprised you got your hands on it. I suppose Stanford brought it up."
Something in the back of her mind pricked up defensively—what was that supposed to mean, he was surprised she got her hands on it?—but she pushed it back down. "Yeah, he told me and Dipper about it when you guys got home yesterday," Mabel said. "But you brought it up to me first!"
"No I didn't. When?"
"A few weeks ago? You mentioned Edward Bishop Bishop."
"I don't remember that," Bill muttered. "I probably didn't think you'd make sense of it."
"Hey!"
"You didn't make sense of it! Ford had to tell you about it."
"Yeah, but—mean!" She shoved aside her drawing and started on another one, grumbling, "I could've made sense of it if I'd looked it up."
What was up with Bill today? He wasn't usually this much of a jerk. To her. Lately. Plus, she thought they'd really had a moment yesterday! But Bill had had a rough couple days. Maybe he was just tired and cranky. 
A wiser person might just leave well enough alone. But a wiser person wasn't exploding in their brain with curiosity about just how bad Bill's life had really been. There was something itching at the back of her head, had been itching since she'd woken up—something about Bill, something important, she was sure of it—but she couldn't quite put together what it was. She just needed to talk to Bill long enough to figure it out.
"So..." She glanced up from filling in a shape yellow, "were lines really executed if they didn't make noises all the time so everyone always knew where they were and they couldn't sneak up and stab anyone?"
Bill scoffed, rolling his eyes, as if the very idea was stupid. "It wasn't that extreme. Making a peace cry is like a human saying 'coming through' when they're trying to squeeze past somebody. Lines are just taught to do it in public because it's easier not to see a line, that's all."
"If they didn't, were they executed...?"
"No. They were just rude."
That was a relief. Mabel had been worried for her fellow ladies. She was plenty noisy, but she didn't think she could remember to make constant sound any time she was around other people. She turned back to coloring her newest drawing, but watched Bill out of the corner of her eye. "Is it true that rich people killed almost all of their babies by giving them surgery to break their sides?"
The corner of Bill's mouth curled in a sneer. "Do I look like a pediatric surgeon?"
"Um." Not a welcome question. She tried to backtrack to something softer. "So, in the second dimension, the outside of your body is just your outline and your guts are everything inside the outline, right?"
He gave her a wary look. "Yeah."
"So your bow tie is basically in your stomach."
Bill sucked in a deep breath; but quickly caved in to the need to be the most correct person in the room. "More like around my esophagus, but. Sure."
"So, where did you wear it when you were back in the second dimension? Was it on your side? Did you have to wear two so people could see them from both sides—"
"I didn't need a bow tie then."
Mabel stared at him. "What do you mean, you didn't 'need' it? What do you need it for now?"
Bill ignored the question. "You know, I didn't think Flatworld was an interesting enough book to deserve this much attention! Especially not from you. You like fun stories." It felt oddly like he was criticizing her for having read it.
"Well—yeah, but it's about your home! That makes it fun!"
Bill raised his brows.
"Right? Doesn't it?"
"Kid." Bill laughed condescendingly. "Don't give me that. You read an entire book. In the summer. About math. With a downer ending where the narrator goes insane and gets locked up. That's some people's idea of a fun time, but I know it's not yours."
Maybe "fun" was the wrong word—but it was still important. She was glad she'd read it. She'd cared about it. She'd cared enough to know Bill was describing it wrong. "That's not what happened. The square got locked up because he kept telling everybody the third dimension's real."
"Like I said! He went insane!"
"But he's not insane. Everyone says he is, but he's right about the third dimension! It's everyone else who's stupid!"
"So what," Bill said. "The things he knows mean he'll never be able to see the world the way other shapes do, and no matter what he does he'll never be happy with his home. If that's not insanity, what is?"
Last year, she'd heard Bill agree when Gideon called him insane. She'd always wondered. "Is that why you're insane?"
Bill shot Mabel a furious look. That was the wrong thing to say. "Shooting Star—"
(Oh no, she thought, he's using my full name.)
"—what's with the third degree." Bill crossed the room to lean on the other side of the table. He gave her the guarded glare of a guilty suspect facing down a cop in an interrogation room—and trying to figure out whether he could kill the cop before he was stopped. "What do you think you're trying to dig up?"
"I'm not trying to 'dig up' anything," Mabel said. "I just want to learn more about you!"
"Oh yeah, I'm sure you do! Who doesn't wanna know all about me! And right after I trusted you yesterday! Do you think you're the first person to start digging into my history? 'Hey, does anyone know what made Bill Cipher so crazy'?" Bill laughed bitterly. " You're not even the first Pines to try it. Not even the second."
"That's not what I'm trying to do!" said Mabel, right before it dawned on her that that was exactly what she was trying to do.
"Right. I'm sure whatever you learn will make a nice two-page spread in Journal 5. Another secret you and Fordsy can add to your Mysteries, huh? Think he'll draw the dead babies?"
She thought back to Portland—to asking Ford what had made Bill so awful. I think if anyone’s ever had a chance of finding out what made him like he is, it might be you. Mabel shook her head. No. She didn't want to be that. "I'm not Grunkle Ford's spy, I'm your friend. I just—I just want to understand you—"
"Yeah, and the 'friends' who understand you are the most dangerous kind." Bill laughed harshly. "Your uncle and brother couldn't figure me out! And Sixer's been trying for years! So what makes you think YOU can?"
He was calling her stupid. He'd been calling her stupid all day. That was why he was so surprised she'd read the book.
"You—shut up!" She wadded up her latest drawing and flung it in Bill's face. (He snatched out of midair.) "All I did was read a book I thought was important to you, you jerk! I thought you'd like that!"
She hadn't meant for that waver to enter her voice. But she was exhausted from too little sleep and worrying about dead baby shapes and worrying about Bill's fear of death and worrying about what Ford had said about not giving Bill a second chance, and now Bill was being a jerk, and maybe he was just exhausted and upset too, but he was treating her like she was stupid—and there was that pathetic little waver.
But it made Bill pause in his onslaught; for a moment, he averted his gaze. Still, he said, "Maybe if you'd thought to ask—"
"You were asleep! I was being nice! And letting you sleep! In my bed!"
"But—"
"Just go away!" She pointed at the doorway.
Bill's face hardened again. "Fine!" He flung his hands in the air and stomped from the room. "Who wants to hang out with you when you're in such a bad mood, anyway."
Mabel glared at her stupid drawings so she didn't have to watch Bill's stupid back as he left.
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Why had she bothered?
When Bill was out of sight, she dropped back onto her chair, pulled her sweater over her face, crossed her arms on the table, and buried her head in them.
####
Bill didn't think to smooth out the paper Mabel had flung at him until he was out of the room.
On one side she'd drawn Bill—properly triangular—with an expression that he thought was supposed to be fear and on the other side several angry-looking shapes, pentagons and hexagons, colored gray and black, being led by a pale figure shaped like a human skull and wielding a scythe; and between them, a bright pink heart, standing in front of Bill protectively, hands on its "hips," glaring down the would-be assailants.
The corners of Bill's mouth sagged down.
####
The bell rang and the shapes began filing out of class, muttering to each other about how they thought they'd done on the test. As the triangle cheerfully left the room, the teacher caught him by the arm again to pull him over. "Just a minute," she said. "I want a word with you."
Oh, he bet she did. Breezily, he said, "Sure thing! What is it?"
"Who was the first triangular president?"
"Wh— Th—" He spluttered indignantly. "There's been like—seven of them."
"Nine. And I'm only asking about the first one."
"How should I know!"
"You knew an hour ago."
He sputtered again. "That was— That was a multiple choice test! And it was an hour closer to when I'd studied! And I can focus better in the classroom! You can't expect me to remember anything in the hallway. You're using intimidation tactics. How could anyone focus under these conditions—"
"I don't know what you're doing," the teacher said, "or how you're doing it. Maybe I never will. But..." She sighed, and the anger seemed to leak out of her, and that only made him more nervous. "But whatever you're doing—you won't be able to do it forever. What will you do when you're out in the real world and you didn't learn anything in school?"
Her pity was worse than being hated had been. At least when he was hated, he knew she only looked down on him because she had something against him. What did he do with pity? With concerned warnings about the "real world"? He'd never heard anybody use the phrase "the real world" as anything but a threat. He hoped he was never out in the real world.
"Who cares! I'll never need any of this!" He should have shut up there. He didn't: "You're just jealous that me and my family make a million times more lying to everyone than you'll ever get trying to teach them the truth!"
His teacher gasped in shock; but before she could say anything, he was halfway down the hall with no intention of slowing down.
The next day, he stayed home, and his mom visited the principal. The day after that, he had a new teacher.
####
He was stupid. He knew that. He didn't know when he'd gotten stupid—if it was because he'd started touring so much and missing classes, or if he'd always been dumb and just didn't notice it before he registered just how often he was using his all-seeing eye to pick up answers that other kids couldn't see. It had crept up on him. But there it was. He was stupid, and he was too stupid to figure out what to do about it.
There was a big difference between being able to see everything, and actually knowing anything. And he might be all-seeing, but an idiot like him would never be all-knowing.
####
A trillion years later, he still didn't remember the name of the first triangular president. And look how far he'd gotten without it.
Lunch was toast and peanut butter. The toaster was the only source of heat he could use without having to ask his captors for access; and peanut butter and bread were the most nutritious foods he could reach without asking his captors to open a cabinet or fridge. He was sick of toast and peanut butter.
He wasn't about to ask Mabel to help him get lunch.
Well. He'd succeeded. He'd known just the right thing to say to get Mabel to lay off and drop the topic. Did he feel accomplished?
He stared out the window as he ate—there were hazy gray clouds on the horizon, beyond the trees, slowly inching closer—and he tried not to look at the picture Mabel had flung at him.
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####
Mabel felt dumb about being upset that Bill thought she was dumb.
Because of course he did. Sure, he liked her art and he liked dance music and games without rules; sure, he was a willing student when it came to stuff like making friendship bracelets or artistically mixing sprinkles; sure, he was a weirdo fun guy; but he was also a Smarty McSmartypants, just like Dipper or Ford. And Mabel was the Girl Dipper who brought home C's. And even a weirdo fun Smarty wouldn't want to hang out for long with someone who couldn't keep up with nerd talk. He probably just... put up with her for as long as he could stand pretending he took her seriously, but he'd finally lost his patience...
And shown his true, jerky colors again.
Maybe Ford and Dipper were right about him; maybe he couldn't really change.
Except... there was something he'd said. And right after I trusted you yesterday. When he'd cried in front of her. When he'd told her about his fear of death.
He was being a jerk because he thought she'd betrayed him. But by reading a book?! Why couldn't he ever just explain himself? Did he think whatever was bothering him was obvious, and she was stupid for not figuring it out?
Something she almost but didn't quite remember thudded like a drum inside her brain. Dum-dum-dum. Dum-dum-dome.
From the entryway, Bill called, "Hey, star girl. I—"
He stopped in the doorway. Mabel had taped 28 pieces of paper together, drawn on a door knob, written "DOOR" at the top, and taped it across the doorway into the living room. Irritably, Bill said, "It doesn't work like that. This is obviously paper."
"Bill," Mabel grumbled. "Go away."
"No. I'm gonna say something to you."
He didn't phrase that like he was giving her a choice in the matter; but all the same, she said, "I don't wanna hear it."
"You know that horror story about a bride with a velvet ribbon tied around her neck, and her head falls off and rolls down the stairs when her husband unties it?"
She did. She and Dipper had read a book of scary stories to each other on Halloween a few years ago while waiting for it to be late enough to go trick-or-treating. In spite of herself, he'd piqued her curiosity. She reluctantly turned to look at him. "Yeah? So?"
Bill was leaning in the doorway, head tilted against the doorframe so he could see Mabel around the paper door curtain. "That's why I wear a bow tie."
Mabel blinked. "Wait—if you didn't, your head would fall off? What part of you is your head? How did it come off? Were you decapitated? Did you get decapitated for knowing about the third dimension—?"
"It doesn't keep my head on; it keeps my skin on."
Mabel's nose wrinkled. "Gross! How?"
"Remember how you said my outline is my skin and all my organs are inside the outline," Bill said. "That didn't change when we left the second dimension! We had to get exoskeletons on our top and bottom sides so solids like you can't stick you fingers in our guts. My bow tie keeps it tied in place."
"Whoa." So that was why they hadn't seen Bill's organs before. "Do you ever take it off?"
"Mostly when I'm eating!" He knocked on the doorframe. "So can I come in now?"
Of course. He'd been using information to buy his way back into her good graces. (No—that was what somebody who didn't think Bill deserved a second chance would think. He was making up for earlier by answering one of her questions about him.)
She took a deep breath, turned to face Bill, and said, "You didn't talk to me like a friend earlier."
"I—" Bill grimaced, looked at the ceiling for help, and conceded, "I mean—It's how I talk to my friends, but all right, I know you're not used to that—"
"Nobody should be used to that!" Mabel said. "What would Love Bunny say?"
"Wh—?! I— Th— You—" His voice cracked as it jumped higher, "What do I care what a cartoon rabbit thinks about—"
"What. Would. She. Say."
Bill's face screwed up in agony. He crossed his arms. "Ugh."
"Biiill?"
Eyes squeezed shut, Bill said, "She'd say my breath smells like I've been eating mean beans."
"Aaand?"
"I'm not going to say it. I won't say it."
"And you need to eat your nice rice!"
Bill let out a long, slow sigh.
"Say it!"
"This is my penance," Bill muttered toward his feet. "This is my penance. This is fair." He took a breath. "And... I need to eat my nice rice."
Mabel nodded. He'd confessed his sins.
"I think we're out of nice rice," Bill said, "but I've had the peanut butter of kindness and the toast of remorse. Good enough?"
She considered it. "Yeah. You can come in."
Bill batted aside the paper door curtain and ducked into the room. 
He sat across the table from Mabel and set down the paper she'd chucked at him amongst her others. Mabel glanced at the drawing, embarrassed of it now; but Bill didn't say anything about it.
He just propped his cheek against his hand and started looking over her other art.
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Mabel sat there with her hands under her legs, watching his spotlight eyes rove over the table, feeling like she was waiting for a teacher to grade a poster she'd made for class. He saw a stop sign red octagon in sunglasses that was labeled "Bill's parole officer" and snorted. She wasn't sure if it was an amused snort or a derogatory snort. His gaze stopped on her attempt to figure out how Flatworlder anatomy worked, and didn't move farther. She'd probably gotten everything wrong, hadn't she?
She couldn't stand waiting for him to pass judgment on her art. "You think they look dumb, don't you."
Bill took a moment to reply. He didn't look up from her drawings. "I don't think you're dumb, Shooting Star."
"You think I'm dumber than Dipper and Grunkle Ford."
Bill winced. "I don't." At her dubious look, Bill amended, "Only Stanford! And that barely counts, all humans are dumber than Stanford. It doesn't mean I think you're dumb-dumb"
"Could've fooled me," Mabel muttered.
"You bet! I'm good at fooling people. All I have to do is say things I don't mean that make people feel the way I want." His voice was flat and matter-of-fact. "I wanted you to feel like the conversation wasn't worth it. That's all."
She stared at him. "By letting me know you think I'm stupid?!" She chucked a crayon at his face. "You could have just told me you didn't want to talk about Flatworld!" Her voice was getting that stupid waver again. "If I'd known, I would have dropped it! I didn't want to upset you!"
"I wasn't upset, it's just a stupid thing to complain about! It's just a dumb book! It'd—it'd take a real loser to be bothered by talking about a dumb book! I'm not..." He sighed harshly. "I know you weren't trying to get on my nerves, kid. It'd mess up your sticker chart." (Mabel hadn't even realized he knew about her sticker chart.) Almost inaudibly, he added, "M'sorry."
She'd never heard him apologize before.
She let out a slow breath. "Biiill. I don't think you're a loser."
He muttered something she couldn't make out as he flipped his hood on and pulled it down over his burning face. "Forget it. Move on. It's in the past!"
"If you're so embarrassed—"
"Not embarrassed!"
She chucked another crayon at his chest. "Then why are you telling me this now?"
Bill shut his eyes; took a deep breath; and, with a look of solemn dignity, and no small amount of pain, he said, "Because. Teddy Tender says. Our friends can't help us feel better if we don't tell them why we feel bad." He almost, almost managed to say it without sounding sarcastic.
Mabel burst out laughing. Bill pulled his hood lower.
Bill didn't even like Teddy Tender—he thought he was the stick in the mud of the Color Critters—and he certainly wasn't actually trying to follow Teddy's friendship lessons. He was just... saying something he didn't mean to make Mabel feel the way he wanted. And he wanted her to feel better.
No matter what anyone else said, he could change. And he was changing.
"Apology accepted," Mabel said. "Gold star!" She peeled one off a nearby sticker sheet and held it out.
Bill eyed it, like a man so hungry he was too nauseous to eat eyeing a pizza; and then snatched it from her and stuck it in the middle of his hoodie.
Mabel said, "And... I guess I'm sorry for getting all diggy about your home world." Even if she hadn't known it was bothering him, she probably should've guessed, shouldn't she? With how crabby he'd gotten. "I just got all excited and curious and... kinda worried about you after reading that book?" She sighed. "I understand if you don't wanna talk about it. You probably hated your dimension."
"What? He lurched forward with the vehemence of his denial—"Of course I don't hate my dimension!" Mabel leaned away at the sudden rage that had flared up in his eyes; but it died just as quickly and Bill immediately reeled himself back in, sitting back, crossing his arms: "I mean, come on, kid, use your head: you read a book about a culture. We're talking about an entire dimension. Would you hold a grudge against Jupiter if an ant bit you on Earth?"
Even as casually as he played it off, Mabel was sure he hadn't meant anything as calm and measured as claiming it was technically irrational to hate an entire dimension. He meant—emphatically, with his whole heart behind it—that he didn't hate his home dimension, at all.
Then why didn't he want to talk about it? (Then why had he destroyed it? Or was not hating it just another fiction he'd made up because he'd prefer that reality? Or was the destruction itself a lie? He hadn't mentioned it once since they'd started talking about Flatworld. Or did he think she didn't know about that and didn't want her to know? Or...)
Something had been churning in her subconscious since she woke up, and now—watching Bill ball up around himself as he squirmed around the things he didn't want to say—it finally dawned on her. Two words. Another piece of the Axolotl's poem. She tried to hold the words in her head until she could write them down, repeating them over and over—Misses home. Misses home.
Quietly, she asked, "Then... don't you want to remember it?"
His face spasmed, like it was nearly cracking in two—and then smoothed out. His face was blank. He didn't answer for a moment. "The last time I told a human more than two sentences about where I'm from... he gave me the universe's most depressing geometry textbook."
Oh. Maybe Bill was following Teddy Tender's friendship advice. "That's because you were talking to a boring old-timey math teacher, duh."
He laughed wryly. "You may have a point!"
If Bill assumed anybody prying into his history was either looking for the reason something was wrong with him, or publishing a whole book about the super bad parts... No wonder he hadn't wanted to talk to her. "So you didn't dislike Flatworld? You just dislike the book?"
Bill grimaced. "Did you read Eddie's biography?"
"No?"
####
As soon as he'd buckled himself into his seat for the drive to Northwest Manor, Dipper read the summary on the back cover of Flatworld, and then the paragraph-long author biography underneath it:
Edward B. Bishop, born in 1838 in England, was an accomplished mathematician, writer, theologian, and closet occultist, as well as a professor at the esteemed University of Fancyton. He published twelve books, the last of which was Flatworld in 1884. After sentencing his square protagonist to a two-dimensional asylum for preaching of the existence of the third dimension, he himself succumbed to an ironically similar fate: three months after publication, he was committed to an asylum for insisting that two-dimensional alien invaders intended to conquer the Earth and were persecuting him for revealing their existence, a delusion he maintained until his death from sleep deprivation in 1886. His most enduring legacy is inventing the margarita glass, which he claimed came to him in a dream. 
Dipper hissed between his teeth. "Ouch."
####
"Never mind, don't worry about it," Bill said. "But no. I didn't like the book."
"You poor thing! All this time you've been homesick for the second dimension, but the only things humans talk about is the bad stuff!"
"Don't call me that."
"Do you want to talk about the non-depressy stuff instead? Like..." Mabel wracked her brain for something nice she'd read in the book. She winced. "Uh... I'm sure there's something. You could choose the topic?"
Bill didn't look directly at her. He just looked over all her drawings again. "Tell me why you want to know so badly."
It was basically the same question he'd asked earlier—what's with the third degree—but his tone was different. Mabel swallowed hard and repeated, "Because... I'm your friend. It's crazy that we've been friends for like a month and I barely know a-ny-thing about who you are or how you grew up! By now, I'd usually know about a friend's family, favorite subject, favorite animal, opinion on glitter, and biggest life dream! Plus all the stuff humans have in common—like, 'do you breathe?'"
This time, Bill didn't argue with her answer. (He could have called her a liar. A month ago, she had just been trying to find out what was wrong with him. But this version of the truth she'd made up was better.) "You already know I'm pro-glitter in all contexts and my life's work is to throw an eternal party. What else really matters?"
"Those are the two most important questions," Mabel said seriously. Tentatively, she asked, "Did you have glitter in the second dimension?" He'd already reassured her that they'd had color, but it was hard to imagine glitter in such a bleak world.
"Sure."
Mabel heaved a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank goodness."
She looked around at the morning's art production, pulled over the first drawing she'd done of her shapesona, and grabbed a bottle of glue to draw a thin line around the heart.
Bill watched as Mabel carefully sprinkled several separate colors of glitter on the line of glue, like a master chef adding a precise amount of spice to a gourmet recipe, to create a glitter rainbow gradient; and then he slowly sat up and leaned toward the table again. "So, who's this freak?"
Mabel gave him an exasperated look. She decided he'd meant "freak" neutrally; but she'd clearly labeled the heart "ME IN FLATWORLD," she thought it was pretty obvious who this freak was.
But Bill cheerfully went on, "He's the most hideously disfigured shape I've ever seen."
"Hey!"
"I'm not joking, it hurts to look at this guy. At least he's symmetrical, but woof."
"She's not a guy! She's supposed to be me in Flatworld," Mabel insisted. "She's a powerful lady and I think she's beautiful." She paused. "Can a heart be a girl?" Lines looked boring, but Flatworld said that girls were all lines and all other shapes were boys. (Or were they? When they'd talked at the mall, Bill had been very clear that he considered himself a triangle instead of male or female, which scuttled the "all polygons are male" concept. Maybe Edward Bishop Bishop had made that part up?)
"She can be anything she wants," Bill said firmly. "I don't see any gender cops around here, do you?"
Good point. "And when there's no cops around, anything's legal."
Bill laughed. "Hey, I like that."
"Grunkle Stan says it!"
"Wise man." Bill leaned forward further across the table and tapped a finger on the deep cleft at the top of the heart. "Personally, I'm more worried about that agonizing-looking birth defect. I'm surprised she survived past infancy!"
Mabel glared at him, but she supposed she couldn't argue. A heart was a pretty irregular shape. And according to Flatworld, almost all irregular shapes were executed in childhood or else imprisoned in adulthood, since they thought irregular shapes would grow up to be depraved, imbecilic criminals—
"Wait," Mabel said. "Wait. Last year, when I called you an isosceles freak—"
Bill cut in, "It was 'monster,' but go on!"
"Was that, like..." Mabel's voice dropped to a whisper, "a slur on Flatworld?"
Bill fought to keep his face straight as he decided how to respond. He went for the funniest answer. "Yes."
Mabel clapped her hands over her mouth and squeaked, "Nooo!"
"It's actually pretty impressive a human managed to come up with it!"
"I'M SORRYYY, augh I didn't know!"
Over her anguished whines, Bill went on, "It's just a good thing you didn't say 'scalene'! I would've had to wash your mouth out with drain cleaner!"
Mabel had pulled the collar of her sweater over her face. From within Sweater Town, she asked, "Was that the first thing I ever said to you?"
Bill choked back a laugh. "Yeah, it was."
She squealed in embarrassment and slid under the table.
"Heck of a first impression, star girl!"
"i'm sorryyy."
Bill reached under the table to pat the top of her head. "Ahhh, it was funny. Get up here." 
As she climbed back into her seat, Bill added, "I'm getting back at you now, I'm not done making fun of your medical miracle yet. You know what she'd look like as a human? A headless, neckless body with an eyeball shoved six inches down her esophagus." He paused thoughtfully. "Actually... that sounds kinda cute."
"Eww, Bill."
"It is, it's cute. Like a clumsy puppy with a neurological disorder! I guess that's how the hideous Miss Heart here must look to humans!"
Mabel looked over her art again, wondering if she should change her shapesona, considering Bill's reaction to it. 
So, maybe she was creating a freak. She didn't see any shape cops around here. She kept drawing. "I'd be fine," she said. "You like weird freaks! You'd keep me safe."
A stricken look crossed his face. He was momentarily silent as he watched Mabel start another picture. And then, as though he were only considering it for the first time, he said, "Yeah. I guess I would."
His gaze drifted to the wrinkled picture of Mabel's shapesona standing protectively in front of Bill. "Freaks can't afford to tear each other down."
####
(THIS is the chapter that's been giving me hell the last few weeks. Months. Last few months. I'm so glad to finally have it out, and I hope y'all enjoyed!! This chapter probably brings up a lot more questions than it actually answers—and completely different questions based on whether or not you've read Flatland lol—so I can't wait to hear what y'all think.)
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luveline · 1 year ago
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hi baby if you feel up for it i'd love to request some fluffy fluff with sirius. maybe he's usually so reserved and stoic (because, cmon) and they're out with his friends and they're all making fun of him for being so lovey and doting on r
love u sm!
love you!! ♡ fem, 1k
"This is really lovely," Sirius says, your face turned to the light in his hand. "It's bright without looking out of place. Blue is your colour." 
"Thanks, bug," you murmur back, holding still as he cleans the smudged mascara from your lower lash line.
"Every colour is your colour," he amends. "It goes nice with your top." 
You rub your lips together slowly, sticky with gloss. His noticing makes all your make up efforts worth it. 
Sirius wipes his thumb into the tissue you'd given him and tucks it away, stroking your cheek one last time with his other hand before stealing yours to twine your fingers. Your friends have carried on into the pub, but it doesn't take long to catch them. Remus was kind enough to wait at the entrance, eyebrows raised. 
"What?" Sirius asks. 
"Nothing." It's clearly something. "At all." 
You figure it's between them and skirt past Remus with a smile, eager to hide away in the warm wooded walls of The Firestroke. The boys filter in behind you, following you through the entryway and past the bar to the table James has commandeered with Emmeline. 
He's fiddling with her hair, readjusting a bobby pin, another held between his lips. "It looks nice, Emme, you should have it out of your face more often." 
"Marl says that all the time. Hey!" She beams at you. "Come and sit by me." 
You laugh happily and slide onto the seat next to her. You, Emme, and James sit on the booth side while Sirius and Remus set themselves down opposite. A waitress arrives and Sirius doesn't wait for the others, ordering a round of drinks for the entire group, wherever they may be. They'll filter in soon enough. 
"And extra cherries for my girl, please," Sirius says, nodding to you as he does. "Thanks." 
"Ooh, for his girl," James croons. 
"Remember when he'd order stuff for me like that?" Remus asks. 
Sirius rolls his eyes, offering his hands to you from across the table. Honestly, you're slightly surprised at his behaviour today, but you won't look a gift horse in the mouth. You lay your hands in his obligingly and relax as he begins to draw shapes into the fronts of your fingers, tiny stroking lines that feel ridiculously good, even under the eyes of your friends. "He's lying. I'd purposefully get his food wrong when we were teenagers so he'd have to go up to the counter and correct it." 
"Like exposure therapy I never signed up for," Remus sighs. "It worked, too." 
Sirius laughs. He's handsome to begin with, the last burst of a tan from summer's end on his skin, his hair dark and lush in the shimmering light, and when he laughs it's a tenfold effect, the grey of his eyes suddenly mesmerising, the wicked curve of his smile softened into a sweeter thing that begs to be kissed, or admired at the very least. You let him keep one hand but turn the other inward to give him similar treatment, rubbing your fingertips up and down his palm in a ticklish wave. 
"Do that to me, mate, there's a good lad," James says, offering his hand. Emmeline bats it away. 
"Awfully jealous today, aren't they?" Sirius asks you, ignoring their teasing to curl your fingers in and cover them. 
"I…" You're not sure what to say. Does he not realise how sweet he's being? Publicly? He's not usually this open. 
"You okay?" 
"Fine, just…" Words fail you twice. You cringe at your lack of explanation, but Sirius doesn't falter in his nice touches. It shouldn't shock you when he slides his chair tight against the table and pulls your hands ever closer, his top lip scratchy with hair as he leans down to kiss your knuckles. "Siri." 
"Yes, darling?"
"Jesus," Marl says, announcing her presence with a faked gag. "What's your problem, Black?" 
"I'm deeply in love, McKinnon. Not that you'd know what that feels like." 
You melt in your chair as he kisses a short path to your wrist. You could write Marlene a ten thousand word essay on love if she needed it, that's how adored he's got you feeling. 
"Absolutely vile."
"So sweet!" Mary denies, plopping herself down in the chair beside Sirius', all pink tulle and flowery smells. Any other day you'd be jealous of her in a good-natured but undeniably insecure manner, terrified that Sirius was gonna turn to her and see her in all her dewy beauty, but he doesn't so much as look up, your hands now rubbed against his cheek. 
"He's had a bit of catnip or something," Remus says. 
"It's the eyeshadow," you try to explain. 
Sirius lifts his head severely. "It looks perfect, but it's definitely not the eyeshadow. I'd feel just as mad about you if you were covered in soot." 
"Good to know," you say breathlessly. 
"Oh, so you're feeling pathetic today?" Marl asks.
Sirius sighs as though he's been greatly inconvenienced and sits up properly, casting his gaze around the group for a lick of sense between them, if his slack eyebrows are anything to go off of. "You're all wrong. I'm this pathetic for her every day of the week." 
"Then what's with the PDA?" James asks incredulously. 
"Mate, first of all, look at her. And if you must know, it's our anniversary." 
You flinch, your gaze jumping to his. The group erupts with well wishes and 'why didn't you say so's, and James slaps his card on the table, insisting that the round is on him to celebrate. Your heart races as you make the calculations in your head, calming as you realise that nothing falls on today's date, not a half month nor a first date. 
"Sirius?" you ask while everyone's distracted. 
He takes your hand again and begins kissing your knuckles once more. "I'm lying," he says, as you'd figured, scratching your fingers with his stubble. "That's what he gets for prying… You really do look lovely tonight." 
You nearly swallow your tongue. "Thank you. You look lovely, too." 
He smiles, twining your fingers together to rest his face against the back of your hand. "Thanks, angel." 
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dragon-kazansky · 7 months ago
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Bridgerton shade of blue
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Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader
Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.
{Masterlist}
{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}
Season one
Chapter Eight - Sparkling diamond
♡♡♡
Benedict joined his sister, Eloise, out in the garden again long after the other had gone to bed. She was smoking on the swing like last time.
As Benedict takes a seat on the opposite swing, she passes him the cigarette. He takes it.
"I found bits of your sketchbook in the fireplace," Eloise says.
"Are you spying on me now?"
"You'd actually have to be interesting for me to bother spying on you," she chuckles.
"The drawings in that sketchbook were abominable," he says firmly. "I could not stand to look at them."
"I believe that is why they call it a sketchbook." Eloise looks at them. "I write in my diary, which is not the same as wiring in my novel."
Benedict chuckles.
"It must be very difficult to want something and not be able to get it."
"Eloise..."
"If you enjoy drawing but need practise, then practise," she goes on. "Hire a drawing master. Find a young lady to act impressed."
You cross his mind. However, he doesn't want you to act impressed. He wants you to be impressed by his work. Genuinely so.
"If you desire the sun and the moon, all you have to do is go out and shoot at the sky. Some of us cannot.
"Look no further than Lady Whistledown. She possesses a huge talent for writing, and yet she must hide away and publish under a false name."
"Yes, because if anyone knew who Whistledown truly was, she'd be strung up for what she said," Benedict states.
"That is not my point. Whistledown is a woman, therefore she has nothing, and still she writes. You're a man, therefore you have everything. You are able to do whatever you want. So do it. Be bold."
Eloise envies her brothers.
"At least that way I can live vicariously through you." She rises to leave.
"Eloise... are you Lady Whistledown?" Benedict asks.
Eloise laughs.
"You're an accomplished writer, always scribbling in that diary of yours. You certainly know everyone else's business. You have more opinions than anyone else I know in London. You would have my full support and admiration either way, sister."
Elosie laughs again.
"So... is it you?"
"No." She looks at him. "Though if it were... do you honestly think that I'd admit it?"
Elosie heads back inside.
Benedict is left with his thoughts.
♡♡♡
The ballroom was elegantly designed. Soft shades to light up the room. You find yourself without a dance partner, however.
Prince Friedrich was in the middle of a dance with Cressida Cowper.
The duke was standing sternly off to the side with Lady Danbury. They appeared to be talking quietly, though judging by the stern faces, it was not a pleasant conversation.
You find yourself gently, and you admire the room. Benedict wasn't here. You couldn't see him at all.
That is not to say you had gone unnoticed. You glance to your left and find a perfectly suitable gentleman looking your way. You smile softly and turn your gaze away.
Tactics of flirtation were not completely out of your power.
Before anyone could make a move, however, the doors at the top of the stairs opened. It wasn't so much the doors that caught everyones attention, more like who had come through them.
You swear you all breath left you when your eyes landed on Daphne coming down the stairs with her mother. She was wearing the most beautiful silver gown you had ever seen, and her hair was beautifully done. She looked like, well, a princess.
In her hand was a feather fan. It went beautifully with her attire. She began to descend the stairs.
All eyes were on her.
Prince Friedrich was at the bottom of the stairs. Not once did he look away. You watch with interest as Daphne gets closer, closer, and closer to him.
The prince leaves Cressida's side to meet Daphne at the bottom stair.
The duke does not move.
Daphne stops.
"Miss Bridgerton, I simply musylt have your first dance." He speaks to her softly.
"It would be an honour, your highness." She curtsies.
A moment passes between them, and then you watch as Daphne drops her fan. Just like that, the prince kneels down to pick it up.
The prince kneeled.
You don't even realise the soft gasp you let out as you watch.
Prince Friedrich offers her the fan, and she takes it. She smiles at him and then gives the fun to her mother as she takes the prince hand.
They dance.
The duke leaves. Though he turns back to look at Daphne before he goes.
In the words of Lady Whistledown, why settle for a duke when one can have a prince?
♡♡♡
The invitation to attend the boxing match came from Anthony Bridgerton. You were rather pleasantly surprised by his invitation.
Anthony apparently needed some help to keep his mother quiet about finding a wife for himself.
You laughed.
You follow the siblings until they reach the prince. He approaches Daphne, but greets you, also. You curtsy.
Anthony then offers you his arm. "Shall we?"
You chuckle and take it, allowing him to lead you over to some seats. As you settle, you turn to the eldest Bridgerton.
"Where are you brothers?" You ask.
"My brothers? Currently talking to one of the fighters." He gestures to the edge of the ring where you spot Colin and Benedict.
You don't even notice you're smiling.
"You and my brother seem to have grown rather close." Anthony points out, looking at you.
"I can assure you there is nothing untoward. Your brother is my friend, as are you all now." You smile at him.
Anthony chuckles.
"Benedict seems to have a lot on his mind at the moment. I am not one to get in the way of someone's business."
"Smart woman," Anthony chuckles.
You nudge his arm lightly and wait for the fight to begin.
As the match is announced to begin, the other brothers find their way to you and Anthony. Benedict looks rather surprised to see you. "I had no idea you were attending."
"Your brother invited me to keep your mother off his back. It seems that is all I'm good for." You chuckle.
"No true, but appreciated none the less," Benedict comments.
You smile, and he takes the empty seat beside you. It does not go unnoticed that you keep your arm looped with Anthony's. He doesn't comment on it.
The fight is intense. You gasp with every hard punch. The men around you cheer on their victor.
You had never witnessed such a match before, and you would be lying if you said you were not somewhat into it.
As the crowd stands, you stand with them and cheer along with the Bridgerton brothers. William Mondrich was their friend, and he was putting up hell of a good fight.
Benedict finds it amusing how excited you seem to be.
Mondrich wins!
You cheer along with the brothers. You laugh at the excitement. It was a thrilling match, indeed.
Anthony helps you down from your seat and speaks close to your ear so you can hear him. "We're off to collect our winnings. I shall see to it you get home right after."
You nod and thank him. As he leaves to fetch his earrings, Benedict turns to you.
"Did you enjoy that?"
You chuckle. "I did. Surprisingly."
"I must say, I did not expect to see you in attendance."
"I am full of surprises."
Benedict looks at you quietly for a moment. "Yes. You are."
You smile and look away. However, his gaze lingers on you for a bit.
Later, the Bridgertons see to it that you get home safely before they head off to the club. A place for the gentlemen only.
Anthony helps you up into the carriage and thanks you for humouring him today. Yo return the gesture and wave as the carriage leaves.
Colin has to nudge Benedict out of his thoughts.
♡♡♡
@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333
@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173
@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner
@hopshusushi - @katherinejess - @nannabug - @afunkyfreshblog - @f0x33 - @dd122004dd -
@jupitervenusearthmars - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @captainlunaxmen - @winchestersimpalababy - @acupnoodle
@ms-fandomgirl - @fablesrose - @anyaisinyourcloset - @meowzerzstuff -
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inniebin · 1 year ago
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What nicknames bf!skz would give you~
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Pairing - ot8 x reader
Genre - Fluff, angst-ish for Seungmin (sorry minnie stans 😭)
CW - Smacking (affectionate!!), mention of worshipping, bad language.
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Chan;
There was one time when him, Changbin and Jisung were working on an upcoming comeback and you were sitting on the couch with the younger members of 3racha while Chan was on his chair. He had gotten a notification on his phone and looked down to read it and spoke without looking up, "Baby girl, can you go get the food we ordered? It's just arrived." You stood up and ushered a quick "Yeah" as you left the room while Changbin and Jisung were looking at each other with their eyes wide. Chan hadn't realised he had called you 'baby girl' until you had left and he heard the other two burst into laughter and tapping his shoulder. He quickly smacked their heads and told them to shut up before you came back in. You came back and didn't even question why Changbin and Jisung were wiping tears from their eyes and catching their breath while Chan was blushing like crazy.
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Minho;
You two were just cuddling on the couch watching some shitty movie on the TV when you looked up at Minho and called his name. "Hm?" he hummed without taking his eyes off of the screen. "I want a kitten" you said which got him to look down at you, smiling "Already have one." He laughed when he saw your confused face. "You do?" You thought he only had Soonie, Doongie and Dori. "Yeah, you. You're like a kitten, clingy as hell and always pestering me." You smacked his arm, "Hey! Rude..." He smirked at your reaction. "I never said that was a bad thing, Kitten." You blushed and tried to focus on the movie again, not before catching him smirking into your neck before giving it a peck.
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Changbin;
Honestly? He calls you by a bunch of nicknames but his favourite has got to be 'princess'. He thinks that you look like a princess so he most definitely thinks that you should be treated like one. He pretty much worships you and the ground you walk on. You can't even go an hour without him calling you 'princess'. Be it when you're spending time together and just chilling or when he texts you while he's producing another song or practicing in the dance studio. If he's the one to text first then you should fully expect to see it starting with 'Princess' or 'Hey princess'. His goodbyes definitely include the word too, "Bye Princess!!" or "I love you, see you later princess ❤". Blushes like mad and tells you to stop when you call him a nickname but thinks it's fine to call you by one 24/7. Gets all giggly when you call him 'Prince' because he thinks it's cute that you two have matching nicknames.
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Hyunjin;
Stays want to know why his favourite thing to paint are flowers. The answer? That's the nickname he has for you. He has a whole sketchbook just for drawing and painting flowers. If you dye your hair? He paints flowers only that colour until you change it. He has a second sketchbook that he fills with flowers. Every page is covered, except the middle two. Those two pages have a drawing of you in the the middle and at the top "My Flower" is written in cursive. Around the drawing of you are things he has written himself. Things that remind him of you and how he feels about you. On your 1 year anniversary he had given you the complete sketchbook and once you see the middle pages, you start to cry which in turn makes him cry too. Little did you know that he would do this every year and when your 4 year anniversary hit, instead of it being a drawing of you it was a drawing of a ring with the words 'Will You Marry Me?' at the top.
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Jisung;
I know this is simple but... 'baby'. Whenever he's writing a romantic song he makes sure to have at least one 'baby' in it. He knows that you know it's his nickname for you so he found a way to dedicate every song to you without mentioning your name. I also think that Jisung would want to be more private with relationships. I'm talking private, not even the members know about you. Jisung told his members about you a few weeks after your 1 year anniversary, announcing it publically 2 months later. He thought that his first live after the announcement was hell. STAYs were constantly teasing him in the comments about finally knowing who 'baby' was in all his songs, making him blush while you're laughing at him from the other side of the room.
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Felix;
He called you 'Chick' once when you firsted dating and it kinda just stuck with him. He was so happy when he was able to choose his SKZOO to be a chicken. Whenever they are touring and you're not able to join them, he'll steal some of his favourite perfumes of yours and spray Bbokari with them. He likes to pretend that it's you that he's hugging every night to help him fall asleep. Not before sending you a 'goodnight' voice message obviously. If you wear an outfit that he loves then he'll try find Bbokari a matching version and get you to take photos together and put the in the 'family photos' album on his phone.
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Seungmin;
He doesn't really like nicknames so when he does use one on you it's normally 'love' and it normally means he's done something that he thinks you'll be mad at or he's just not had a good day. Today? His day was horrible. He kept messing up choreography to the point where he had to sit out and he just couldn't get his lines right in the studio. You walk through the front door to see all of the lights off, the only source being the reflection of Seungmin's phone on his face as you see him lying on the couch with himself wrapped in a blanket as you go to make yourself a drink in the kitchen. He notices you and whispers a small "Hey, love." Your attention is immediately shifted from your glass to him. "What's wrong?" You look at him with a worried expression. His eyes start to tear up, "Today was just shitty..." You rush over to him when you hear a quiver in his voice and kneel down so you can hug him. "Hey... you're fine, tomorrow will be better. I promise." You say before you tell him to scooch over and let you under the blanket so you can smother him in cuddles.
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Jeongin;
He had just got back to your shared apartment after a long day of preparing for a comeback, stuff like practicing choreo and recording lines. He was too tired to even get himself to your bedroom because he caught sight of you watching TV on the couch and literally plopped next to you. His head was resting on your right shoulder and you moved your left hand up so you can play with his hair. "Hm... Bub that feels nice." He muttered as he started nodding off to sleep, 'Bub?' you thought. You decided not to wake him up and quiz him on it, deciding to do that in the morning so you could also see his flustered face.
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i-arch-my-backula · 1 year ago
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Horror characters with an s/o who's love language is biting
So I'm sorry for barely posting anything in forever I've just been in a bit of a funk for awhile. Anyway @k1nn1e-0n-ma1n was super insistent I write this so shout out to him and his Bo Sinclair brain rot. This also was slightly inspired by @osirisisv RZ Michael Myers drawing.
Includes: Bo Sinclair, RZ Michael Myers, Otis Driftwood, and Doomhead
Warnings: Violence kind of, Bo and Otis being a perverts kind of
Bo Sinclair
Lester was a biter as a child and Bo has a very high pain tolerance so you biting him doesn't hurt it just surprises him. He honestly didn't know what you did until he looked over and saw you biting his hand.
"The fuck are ya doin'?" He'll ask verbatim. He's not mad, he's just confused as to why at 5:47 on a Tuesday during him watching reruns of some 80's show you decided to bite him.
When you say it's a love language he immediately thinks it's a sex thing. You will quickly shut that down and he'll get a little less excited.
"I still don't understand why ya did that darlin." He'll say before pulling you either on top of him or underneath him and just holding you so you can't bite him again.
On occasion he'll let you bite him again, but if you do it when he doesn't want you too he'll storm off to wherever and ignore you until you make it up to him.
RZ Michael Myers
He has a very high pain tolerance but when he feels you biting him he'll immediately push you off of him or put you in a headlock. He won't let you out either unless you beg him.
He is very confused as to why you bit him, because to his understanding you're not supposed to hurt the people you love.
He's going to probably disappear for a few days to think this over, and because he doesn't want you to bite him again for a little bit. But he'll come back more understanding.
You can bite him, but only when he's prepared and you're willing to 'play fight' because let's be honest, play fighting with Michael is basically him thinking he's playing and you fighting for you life. Could put you in head lock again.
He honestly might just roll up his sleeve and indirectly ask you to bite him. But this will happen after a lot of talking about how biting him means you're not trying to hurt him you just love him.
Otis Driftwood
"Did you just fucking bite me?" He asks you. And honestly no matter where you bite him it's a bad idea because he would taste like cigarettes, blood, and dirt.
Will be mad until you explain you do it because you love him and he'll laugh. Will also think it's a sex thing but you quickly shut that down. He's a little disappointed but doesn't mind too awfully much.
He doesn't mind as long as you give him a proper warning before you do it. If you catch him off guard he'll honestly pull his arm or whatever part of him you bit and leave you alone for a few hours at the least
Because he's a little freak he'll ask you to try and bite him harder than you normally do it to see how much pain he can handle. You can probably draw blood before he tells you to stop.
Overtime he learns to love it and honestly doesn't mind too much anymore. If a victim tries to or actually bites him he'll laugh and tell you about it later. "Don't worry honey, they weren't as good as you."
Doomhead
He’s not exactly lucid all the time so he might not realize you’re biting him at first. When he does realize it he pulls his hand away and laughs about it. "Do I taste good to you or something sweetheart?"
Will tease you about it non-stop. Brings it up all the time even if there's nothing to do with it currently. He'll have a hard time understanding that you're doing it "out of love".
He might honestly buy you a dog chew toy as a joke if you bite him often enough. Or like one of those baby teething toys. He will laugh so hard about it, especially if you get embarrassed about it.
That's not to say he doesn't like when you bite him. He can find the repetitive feeling calming and it honestly might make him feel more lucid at times. But he'd never ask you to do it. He might gives you hints though
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moonferry · 3 months ago
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OKAY here's part 2 of the "how the stardew marriageables would feel to hug" once again will be in alphabetical order !!
bachelorette version HERE
the bachelors (and krobus)
alex: alex loves working out and is obviously very strong. with this in mind, i think he'd be another person who accidentally hugged far tighter than he meant to. his hugs feel like sitting in a reclining chair - like one of the demo ones at a furniture shop. despite how tight he hugs you, you find yourself relaxing into him. plus, i just think it would be nice to bury your face in his chest, alex gently rubbing the back of your head and you telling him about your day. i think alex would smell like leather and maybe musky cologne. a bit more overpowering than the rest (his smell literally latches onto you, your clothing, or even the air around you.) it's not a bad scent tho, just very "masculine" in a way?
elliott: elliott's hugs are lovely! i imagine he has the softest hugs of all the marriageables (likely do to the copious amounts of skincare products/lotions he purchases, but that's just an added bonus.) hugging elliott would feel similar to hugging a silk pillowcase: nice, soft/gentle, and an overall enjoyable experience. elliott's hugs are the perfect "i just want a simple hug right now" kind. i imagine he'd enjoy wrapping his arms around your waist and complimenting you as the two of you hugged. elliott probably smells like an inkwell, with some pomegranate and maybe some ginger (and the ocean, of course!) very light and fruity (honestly you might steal his cologne a time or two.)
harvey: the man who brought this entire spiel to life.. harvey definitely gives the best hugs. his hugs feel like being wrapped in a comforting blanket or feeling the wind gently blow across your face as you sit outside and watch the sun set. i've mentioned this before, but i think harvey loves back hugs. something about having his arms wrapped around you, drawing small shapes on your stomach, and gently kissing your cheek just draws him in. i imagine harvey smells like coffee, a warm chocolate cake, some sandalwood and fresh pine. his hugs are perfect for when you both need to unwind after a stressful day. something about them (maybe it's his doctorly aura) makes your body feel calmed, like it's being healed in a way. legend says that harvey's hugs tend to have healing properties so 👀
krobus: he doesn't exactly have arms, so hugging you back isn't an option. at least not physically, that is. he somehow manages to transmit the feeling of hugging you into your mind and it causes your skin to tingle. however, if you were to actually hug krobus, i imagine it would feel similar to hugging a stuffed animal or a mystical cat. i imagine krobus would be very soft (possibly fluffy!) and his little wisp at the top of his head would rest against your shoulder. as for smells, krobus is a bit difficult. (obviously, coming from a life in the sewers, it's not going to be the greatest thing to smell) HOWEVER i imagine he would smell like black cherry or the "black ice" car air freshener.
sam: oh sam gives amazing hugs. unlike alex, sam crushes you on purpose. he's just very excited and full of love - he needs to share it by squeezing you until you pop! (not literally, of course). i think it's primarily a case of "cuteness aggression" where he just gets so overwhelmed with positive emotions from seeing you that he has to let them out by hugging you tight enough to crack a rib. you don't mind though, and even joke that he could take up practice as a chiropractor because, after hugging him, your spine always seems to become board straight. i imagine sam smells like strawberries, soda, and the beach, maybe a slight hint of desert mist. i like to imagine he also uses his height to an advantage and often picks you up when he hugs you, probably spinning you around as well.
sebastian: another one who i don't think is much of a hugger, especially if he doesn't know you that well. if he does warm up to you, though, he prefers side hugs or he prefers to be the one being hugged, not the other way around. full contact hugs always result in awkwardness and he'd rather avoid that. his hugs are a bit "colder" in a way and usually are finished within a few seconds. it's not that he doesn't like you, he just isn't a big fan of physical touch. however, if you decide to hug him, he will happily lean against you for as long as you want him to. if you drape your arm around his waist and let him lean into your side, his head on your shoulder, he may end up falling asleep. (yoba knows he needs it...) i think sebastian would smell like the outdoors: like a smokey campfire, like peaches, like the crisp, fall air, and faintly like motor oil.
shane: oh another amazing hugger. shane's hugs are very pillowy and sweet, also slightly addictive. it's very easy to sink into him and enjoy the moment. on the other hand, i feel like shane also enjoys being hugged. he loves having your arms around him, your head resting against his chest or shoulder (or in between his shoulder blades if you're back hugging him, this one's a real favorite). bonus points if you trace shapes onto his stomach or lower back, he goes crazy for that sort of thing. (but he'll never admit it, obviously). i like to imagine shane smells like cherry cola, maybe something outdoorsy or something light (ie body wash or soap). i don't think he would go out of his way to make himself a certain way. however, i do think it's hilarious that he has that line of dialogue where he's like ""Sniff*... *sniff*... mmm... what's that wonderful fragrance you're wearing? Eau de pepperoni?”" <- goober.
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kiame-sama · 2 months ago
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Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 5
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(It took me way too long and saving every 5 min, but I got my laptop to run my drawing software long enough to get Leona drawn! Not overly thrilled with the pose and his legs gave me way too much trouble, but at least that is one more down!)
Warnings; Monster AU, yandere, yandere relationship, yandere behavior, stalking, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, Romantic Yanderes, Platonic Yanderes, adult themes present, communal grooming behavior seen in most of my AU species, nesting behavior, social disconnect, attempted bullying, cooking breakfast, untrusting yet soft hearted reader, Cater unintentionally causes problems, Vampire Bats, Gnolls, Satyrs, Fauns, Kelpies, Water Nymphs, mention of Unicorns, Sphinx,
~~~~~~~~
"What... the actual hell are you doing?"
Lilia paused for just a moment, regarding you with wide and curious eyes that almost tricked you into thinking he was harmless. Almost. He took a moment with his pink tongue sticking out slightly as he blinked one eye after the other.
You were finally able to wind down for the night after what had been a long ordeal and a frightening several hours. Lilia spent the short span of time by your side, only giving you space when you bathed and even then he waited outside your door. He had proved to be a wise choice of protector given how many already tried their luck. Trein's idea had been a good one as the odd Bat already had to chase off several curious students, most just seeking to get a sniff or glance in your direction. In some ways you understood that you were an anomaly in their world and that made others curious, but at the same time you felt it was overboard for so many to be so keen to approach you.
Now you sat in the monstrously sized nest- courtesy of the Dragon that fixed up most of your current abode- with your errant guardian for the evening. Grim was curled up and fast asleep on one of the many pillows that littered the valleys and hills of blankets within the nest. You were just starting to doze off as well when you felt a warm and wet muscle trail over your skin. Naturally, you wanted to know just what on earth the strange Bat was doing and judging from the way he looked, he had actually just licked your cheek.
"Grooming you?"
"Why?"
"To help you sleep. Usually a quick bit of grooming makes Malleus and Sebek drift right off with no problem, Silver never needs much help in regards to sleep. Do Humans not groom one another?"
"... Not really. I mean, I guess they can but I don't think I've had someone literally lick me in order to clean me up."
"That wasn't a lick, that was grooming."
"You literally just licked my face."
"But I'm just grooming you?"
You stared at Lilia for a long moment, thinking back to the regular bats of your own world. Bats did often groom one another as a communal pastime, so it could be very possible he was simply doing the same for you. Though you figured these Human-like monsters would behave like Humans, there was still a high possibility that what was socially acceptable to these creatures was far beyond the realm of accepted for Humans. On top of the social disconnect you also realized that though Lilia had spoken of Humans before, he didn't really get all the aspects of Humanity or what you found acceptable.
Lilia seemed genuinely confused and hesitant. There was a strong part of him that still wanted to continue his nightly habits of lulling his nest companions to sleep before trying to rest himself. Still, he was not going to continue his semi-self-soothing communal grooming if you were angry with him over it. Not even getting his scent on you was worth making you genuinely displeased with him.
"Do you not want me to groom you?"
"... Does it help you sleep?"
"What?"
"You said it helps others sleep when you groom them, does it help you sleep too?"
"To groom or be groomed?"
"Both."
The Bat took a long moment to think as if he were honestly considering his own feelings on the matter. He didn't have to think about it for very long before he was nodding to your question.
"Yes. Both help me sleep. I am naturally nocturnal, so becoming diurnal for classes has been difficult on me. Getting my nestmates to sleep first usually helps me sleep. I wouldn't mind a bit of grooming for myself, but usually I'm the one putting others to sleep."
"... If it helps you sleep, then okay. Just... Don't get too excited, okay?"
"... Do you find grooming exciting?"
"No. Going to sleep now."
Lilia laughed softly at your curt response as you tried to close your eyes and drift off. It wasn't long into your attempt that the relaxed and wet strokes picked back up across your cheek. Perhaps he lied to you and only said it was normal. Perhaps it truly was normal for these monster men to participate in communal grooming.
You certainly didn't know and you weren't going to be awake long enough for it to matter. Maybe the Bat was right in that it helped soothe others to sleep as you were unconscious within a few moments of him starting back up.
~~~~~~~~
You woke to Grim batting at your nose with his paws. His bright blue eyes shining at you in the small light of the morning. The sun was not even above the horizon at that point and you vaguely wondered what it was the little feline-beast wanted.
"I'm hungry."
His voice was soft and a quick glance over your shoulder told you he was trying to avoid waking Lilia. The Bat was wrapped in his own wings and snuggled beneath a blanket, face completely smooth in deep rest. You similarly wanted to avoid waking your guard- both for time to yourself and because he seemed so peaceful- so you slipped out of the nest with Grim.
The halls were quiet as you made your way to the main level of the building, hoping the kitchen would be located there. Luck seemed to be on your side and you were thrilled to see both the kitchen and the food available to you. Apparently they were quite keen to keep you content and that meant giving you enough food as well.
The kitchen itself was more of an industrial type kitchen, a large sink for dishes, several ovens, large stovetop, multiple cabinets and one large fridge. Most of the pots and pans were present but seemed to have been unused for quite some time. Though the outside got fixed up, the kitchen recieved far less love. Still, you found the pans needed to get an idea of what you wanted to make. There were a handful of spices in old containers but it was slim pickings.
Despite the odd lacking of premade sauces and other such items, you knew enough to throw together a decent breakfast. It was early in the cooking process when Grim let out a sudden yowl and hiss towards the far side of the kitchen behind you. A door that led outside rattled open and you turned to see a frightening creature.
It looked like a Hyena that had been stretched and deformed into a Human shape, walking on hind legs that resembled that of a canine. The beast had shaggy fur that was a sandy blond color, darker browns spotting the pelt and highlighting the ridge of the Hyena's back. One of the most stunning and unsettling features of the creature was the bright blue eyes that looked far too Human.
As the creature's mouth opened a voice you didn't expect came from it. A light tenor that almost seemed to be accompanied by the cackle of a Hyena at the end of their sentences.
"Lookie here! Seems I found the new Human! Campus is abuzz about you crashing orientation yesterday and Leona wouldn't stop mentioning you."
You didn't know if the Hyena man was one you could trust or not and his oddly jerking motions unsettled you.
"But forget all that for now. What's that you're making? You wouldn't mind sharing some with your fellow student," a long tongue licked over his chops, "would you?"
"What were you doing out here so early?"
"Don't go being so suspicious of me, I'm a stand-up guy, shishishi. I was out gathering up some dandelions for my breakfast."
"... Dandelions?"
"What? Food's expensive here. Besides, guess I can call myself lucky coming across you like this."
The way the beast said this unsettled you and you felt more than a little cornered. Grim was quick to get between the two of you even though he was clearly untrusting of the Hyena as well.
"And what's that supposed ta mean?"
"Just saying whatever you're cooking smells good! It wouldn't be too much to add some more for me to have, right? You got all this food here, you may as well share it. Sides, Leona made it clear to all of Savanaclaw that we aren't supposed to put a single paw or claw on you."
You were partially tempted to call out for Lilia to get this monster away when you heard a heart-breaking sound. A long whining grumble came from the Hyena's stomach and he almost seemed to wince in response to the noise. It was the Hyena's stomach loudly rumbling for some food. After a moment of staring at the beast you noticed a bag at his side, leaves and bright yellow flowers sticking out of it and it was stuffed with more of the plants. Hyenas wouldn't eat just plants unless they had no other choice.
With a sigh you added more food to your pan, noticing the way the short tail of the Hyena man wagged excitedly. Grim crossed his short arms and continued to watch the newcomer with untrusting eyes, refusing to move from in between the two of you.
It was when your breakfast was almost done cooking that the Hyena suddenly changed in behavior. His ears flattened and his head bowed low, tail quickly tucking between his legs as he stared at the inside entrance to the kitchen. You glanced over to see the bright pink eyes of Lilia staring from the doorway with an almost threatening grin towards your uninvited guest. The momentary quiet made you quickly step in Lilia's path, trying to defend the odd Hyena from the Bat that was tasked with your safety.
"Wait, he was just hungry and he could smell my cooking."
"(Y/n), you have already been warned about those from Savanaclaw. Most of them were of the species that ate Humans. Gnolls like Ruggie over there were especially vicious to Humans."
"But he hasn't tried any of that today. I get that not everyone is safe, but he hasn't even tried to attack me. He just wants some breakfast. Lilia, please."
The Bat frowned slightly and gave a final glare at the blond furred beast- Ruggie the Gnoll, according to Lilia- before he relented to your pleas. Despite no longer threatening the Hyena, he made a clear show of moving himself to sit on a counter that allowed him to somewhat be inbetween you and Ruggie. It seemed Grim and Lilia both had the same idea in mind as they continued to stare the outsider down.
They only willingly broke eye contact with the hunched beast as you served four separate plates. Apparently even Lilia was keenly interested in your cooking and you could see the way the three set aside their distrust and happily dug in as you passed out the servings. Ruggie didn't even bother with cutlery as he gulped down the meal like a famished animal that hadn't eaten for days, lazily licking the plate when he was finished. Grim was similar and just shoveled food into his mouth with his little paws, his pronged tail waving excitedly. Lilia took the time to grab a fork, occasionally sending a mistrustful glare towards the Gnoll as he ate.
You felt comfortable enough to dig in as well, content that you managed to somewhat avoid conflict. It was becoming oddly normal to see the unusual beast men that lived in abundance around you, and you felt somewhat gratified to feed the clearly hungry Ruggie. The clear dandelions in his pouch told you that he didn't lie to you about gathering them up and you knew they were edible plants that even Humans could eat.
"Wow, Hooman, is this what you eat all the time?"
"It's a little bland actually, I was hoping there would be more spices and herbs in the cabinets, but there isn't even half as much as I was expecting. Some jellies and jams, but no bullion, no parsley, nothing like that."
It was then Lilia spoke up, talking in between bites as he was still working on his portion.
"Humans were the main cooks and culinary types before they died out. Most of us 'monster-men' as you call us don't need to cook our foods first and eating things raw is fairly normal. It is a treat to actually have a cooked meal in a lot of places, though some places Like the Queendom of Roses have grandfathered in pastries and other confections because of how much the Queendom loved Human cooking. Lots of us don't bother cooking because we don't have to, but I guarantee a cooked meal like this would bring a good portion of others to their knees."
You made a quick mental note of Lilia's comment and figured you could try using your cooking to sway others in your favor. Ruggie certainly seemed pleased as he made an attempt to swipe what remained of Lilia's food, earning him a quick swat from the Bat's wing. Maybe those from Savanaclaw weren't that bad, if Ruggie was anything to go off of.
~~~~~~~~
The bell rang as you tried to get to your first class, upset with yourself that you turned down Lilia's offer to show you to your classes for the day. Grim was no help since he was just as lost as you but he did seem to be enough to discourage most students from getting too close. No one really tried to talk to you and all just seemed curious in your scent or reaching out as if to touch you. A quick flame from Grim was enough to dissuade them so far but the ever curious eyes continued to follow you.
When you finally reached the door to what seemed to be the right class, a figure stepped in your way and blocked you. Standing between you and the door was a Goat man with orange hair and twisting horns atop his head. On his left eye was a red heart.
"So you're the Human everyone is losing their minds over. Don't look like much to me. You don't even have magic to defend yourself if I decided to hurt you right now."
He laughed a sinister sound as he grinned hatefully at you. Grim was clearly trying to make himself seem bigger than he was, even spreading his tattered wings out to somewhat shield you despite how little they covered. The blue fire that always seemed to burn on Grim's ears burned brighter as the grey cat-beast prepared himself to fight this goat man who seemed keen to stop you from entering the classroom.
"Ace, Housewarden Riddle told us to leave the Human alone."
It was then another Goat man approached from behind the first, looking distinctly different from the orange-haired short-horned Goat that tried to block you. This second one had large Ram horns that spiraled from the top of his head down to the sides of his chin, his dark blue hair complementing his bright blue eyes. Over his right eye was the card suit of spades. His lower half was the same as the first and seemed to be goat legs with a tail flicking behind him. You could just barely see the little white spots along the top of his tail as he pushed the first Goat forward with a glare on his face.
"And who the hell are you to enforce that rule, Deuce? You're just a first-year like me."
"And we were told to not heckle the Human."
"Don't tell me you think this Human is worth being upset over?"
"I didn't say that. I'm saying you need to leave her alone."
"Why don't you make me?"
Both seemed to be ready to have a go at one another, heads slightly tilted forward so their horns were pointed at the other. It almost looked like they were going to headbutt each other until one of them relented. It was during this argument that another voice cut in, making both Goats straighten up quickly.
"Why aren't you freshmen in class already?"
The voice belonged to what looked like a centaur man with green hair, his lower half was that of a white stallion. He wore thick black rimmed glasses and had the card suit of clubs beneath his left eye. His eyes were a golden brown that seemed almost yellow when compared to his unusual green hair.
As he trotted over the two Goats quickly seemed to break up their fight, refusing to look the man in the eye even as he looked down at the four of you with his arms crossed. The man seemed to get a good look at your little group before his gaze came to a halt on you, quickly looking you up and down in surprise. He seemed to recognize you rather quickly as he uncrossed his arms, that small displeased frown disappearing from his face.
"Oh, you're the- right. Riddle did say you would be attending classes. Doesn't make much sense to me to throw you into classes with this lot, but I guess it does make it easier for the professors to keep an eye on you."
His smile dropped ever so slightly into a glare as he looked over at the two Goats. That glare then seemed to change into a wicked grin as if he just got an idea.
"How helpful of the two of you to volunteer to show the Human to her classes today."
"Wha- I didn't volunteer for that-!"
"If you don't want to sleep outside with one of Riddle's collars on, I would suggest you both step up and stop fighting."
"Of course out of every upperclassmen we run into, it has to be Trey..."
"So good of you two first-year boys to step up like this. I will be checking in at lunch and if there is a single scratch anywhere on her I'm having Riddle collar the both of you."
The one with orange hair- Ace- stomped his hoof in anger at the much larger male, seeming aghast that he was given an assignment. Deuce seemed less displeased but had a clear frown on his face. Grim was already on board with staying by you given the fact you were his ticket to a comfortable bed and good food.
"If you're so worried, do it yourself!"
"I could tell both Riddle and Professor Trein right now that you two knuckleheads were trying to stop her from getting to class and trying to bully her. I'm sure that would look great on your school records, and you'll certainly have fun not being able to use any magic with Riddle's collars on."
This seemed to unnerve Ace more than the prior threat had as his eyes widened and he took a quick step back. Both Goats had to weigh the potential risks and rewards of the situation but quickly came to the conclusion that it was best to do what the Horse man told them to. You didn't know anything about this supposed collaring business, but you did recognize the name Riddle as the Unicorn that had yelled at Grim the night before.
"Hey, hey, why is everyone standing out here? Thought classes already started, so is everyone just late?"
Another new voice interrupted and Grim's ears flicked in clear frustration at all of the new faces that seemed so keen to heckle the two of you. He was quick to turn to you now that the threat was gone and use his little claws to climb up the leg of your pants and into your arms. For such a sassy little creature, Grim certainly was keen to have you carry him around when there wasn't any threat of danger.
Approaching the now growing group of students standing outside of the classroom was a red-haired man with bright green eyes. He almost seemed to saunter over to the group as he held up his phone, the sound of a camera coming from it multiple times before before he came to a halt.
"Hold on, just need to post this to Magicam and add the right tags... #froshes #latebuddies #skipday... And post!"
"Wait, Cater, don't- please tell me you didn't post a picture of us just now."
"Of course I did! Gotta keep my followers up to date on the haps at school."
"At least tell me you blurred the Human out of the photo?"
"Oh, she's here? Wait, don't tell me," the man now known as Cater was quick to get uncomfortably close to you, making Grim's ears flatten back on his head, "you're the new Human on campus! Gotta absolutely get a selfie with you and post it for Magicam, none of my non-NRC followers believe that a Human crashed our orientation! Pics so I can prove it happened! Smile!"
You tried to pull away from the overly enthusiastic man as he held up his phone and snapped two pictures before you managed to wriggle away from his grasp. He didn't seem to be put off by your behavior at all as he quickly tapped away at his phone with a smile. Trey, however, slapped the phone out of Cater's hands quickly.
"Are you crazy, Cater?"
"Woah, Trey? What's the big deal? You're usually never this riled up."
"Tell me you didn't post that selfie already."
"Just pressed post when you hit my phone outta my hands. Not cool, Trey. Totes being so unkind to Cay-cay."
"Cater!"
"What?"
"Why would you post a picture of an extinct species to the internet? Riddle told us to try and keep others from taking pictures of her and you just go right ahead and post it?"
"What's the big deal? It's not like it's illegal or something."
Trey sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking several deep breaths to try and calm himself. You were able to tell why Trey was mad but it seemed like Ace, Deuce, and Cater had no idea what the big deal was when he just took a picture with you. Meanwhile you were wondering if you should tell a Professor what happened and hope the older magic users could do more to help you than the students.
"Seems you all have plenty of time to talk instead of get to your classes, so how about a few extra assignments for you lot?"
The interrupting voice was a thankfully familiar one to you as you saw the limping gait of a familiar flying-cat man approaching. His steeley eyes were narrowed in annoyance as he drew closer, in his arms lay a black and white cat that seemed more than content to be carried around. You were surprised to see a normal cat in this strange world of monsters, but you figured there had to be some normal animals if these guys found eating one another as appalling as eating Humans seemed to be.
"Professor Trein."
You greeted the man quickly and the scowl disappeared from his face as he realized you were the one talking to him.
"Ah, (Y/n), I saw you would be in my class this morning. Are these students showing you around? I thought Lilia was your chosen guide."
"I told Lilia I didn't need help finding my classes, but I was wrong."
"Hm, then hopefully these boys have been aiding you thus far? You are at my classroom after all."
"Well, about that..."
"What happened?"
Trey interrupted the conversation then, seeming less upset and more exasperated than anything. Ace had been trying to sneak away, but the Horse man caught the back of his shirt and kept him from running off. He didn't even need to look at Ace to grab him and instead kept his attention on Trein.
"Cater posted a picture of (Y/n) to Magicam."
"... He what?"
Cater picked up his phone, pouting at the crack in the screen and whining loudly about it. He turned the phone to Trey as if to show the damage but Professor Trein snatched it from his hands, frustratedly tapping the dark screen as his cat climbed up to his shoulders to free up his hands. He didn't seem to get very far before turning it back to Cater in frustration.
"Unlock your phone, Mr. Diamond."
"What's the big deal? I just wanted to show off the Human."
"That is the 'big deal'! Why would you post a picture of an extinct species for anyone to see?"
"It's not like people are gonna show up just to see a Human-"
"Cater, I am now assigning you an essay due by tomorrow on the history of Humans since you clearly haven't paid attention to your course work from last year. You will also be deleting that picture and any others you make have taken of (Y/n)."
Another noise of complaint left the redhead as if he were about to start complaining but Trein silenced him with a glare.
"Fine, fine. Not like anyone is gonna do anything because of it- no way! This is the most likes any of my pics have gotten right after posting! That was no time at all-"
"Delete it!"
"I can delete the photos from my account, but its already been downloaded at least fifty times. Deleting it now won't do much-"
"Enough. Cater, to the Headmage's office, now. The rest of you get to your classes. I will be in to teach shortly, but first I need to notify the Headmage about this."
Trey herded you and the other two students into the room, closing the door behind you rather loudly. You could still hear Trein scolding Cater from behind the door and you all quickly took your seats. To your surprise, the only open seat was between the two Goats and they didn't seem all too upset by this fact. Though they seemed angry at being volunteered to be your guides, they weren't about to complain about it now with an angry professor right outside of the classroom.
You had no idea what Magicam was, but from the sounds of it, it must have been some kind of photo sharing application like Instagram from your world. If that was the case, the rest of this messed up world was about to realize that there was a Human sheltering at Night Raven College, and you were terrified at the idea of what that would mean for you.
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mousetrappedcomic · 10 months ago
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Mousetrapped #2: "Nothing So Sweet"
The bikini top she wore in Steamboat Willie is still weird to me. Why not give her a shirt?
I should add, I drew a while back and was still getting a feel for the characters. So, I apologize for a weirdly lanky pair of mice.
In the last day, I've had a few people ask what I'm planning for this comic. Honestly? I just want to do a fun adventure comic. I am not interested in a hardcore, gritty, dark version of the characters - although I stand by my belief there was a dark tone to most early cartoons. Will there be dark moments? Yes. But I don't want to do what most people are doing and paint Mickey as a villain or have him go to "extreme" choices for the sake of, "Look, he's public domain now, I can have Mickey Mouse say and do shocking things."
Disney Comics were a huge part of my childhood reading. I still enjoy them greatly. So getting to work with, well, only a couple of the charaters is nice. And I want to just tell fun stories. Will there be some darker tones? At times. Some horror? Everything I do tends to at least dip into horror, but I'd want it to be stuff appropriate from the 1920s.
Plus, my kid watches me draw these and she really enjoys it, so I'm not going to draw anything that would upset her. But she's also a Halloween kid who absolutely loves spooky stuff, so take that how you will. -R.
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belovedivies · 2 months ago
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along the wind (bodyguard!peter x f!reader)
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・゜・summary: Peter has made his way to the top by defying the odds his whole life; barely anything fazes him at this point. Yet when a glimpse of normalcy comes into his life in the form of a girl whose presence he initially apathizes, the crack in the Apostle’s stoicism starts to show.゜・* ・゜・tags: reader-insert, pre-canon, pre-rejuvenated peter, slice of life, fluff, slow burn, eventual romance, (my poor) attempt at humor, friends to lovers, typical-canon violence (mostly referenced cuz i suck at writing fight scenes)゜・* ・゜・notes: this work has multiple chapters! also cross-posted on my ao3 <3 title is from a song called "fly away" by jang yoon ju.゜・*
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chapter 1: white strawberry and mint. ・゜・chapter content: bashing/washing, brief mention of drug. ・゜・word count: 1,268 ♡masterlist♡
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“Tch, stop squirming so much will you?”
"That's easy for you to say, you took my last xanax!"
Peter, very much irritated, decides to ignore those words as he drags the washcloth down your spine. You really thought Glory's greatest asset would want to be stuck here babysitting a grown-ass woman in her early 20s, huh? You'd better fucking think again; with how bizarre this unconventional live-in assignment has been and is still going, Peter's mental gymnastics constantly blow hot and cold between wanting to protect you and wanting to strangle you. Anything to make your perpetual complaining go away, honestly. But as nice as the thought of making you shut up for good, the Cathedral's order to keep you safe is final, and he is but loyal to the organization that made him the powerful man he is today.
So the Apostle sucks it up, a sigh leaving his lips as one big hand closes a little tighter around your waist.
"You're recovering," Peter continues, the authority colors his tone even as his touch on your soaked back is undeniably gentle, "and the last thing I need is another headache of you OD'ing over off-label pills."
You let out a sound that falls somewhere between a gasp and a yelp. "I'm not an addict, ok?" That half-assed excuse almost has Peter rolling his eyes in pure frustration, his displeasure threatening to bubble over when you flounder on his lap like a fish out of water. "They're just my sleeping aid-"
“Aid or not ,” he cuts you off mid-sentence, “it doesn’t change the fact that you pop three xans per meal and barely function without them.” The last of his impatient reprimand is accompanied by foam-covered linen spreading the Olay body wash over the skin of your belly. Peter’s nose crinkles slightly at the sickening sugary scents of white strawberry and mint that assault his nostrils, but the man decides to keep his mouth shut.
And much to his surprise, so do you.
He’s relieved at your lack of resistance, or at least no more bitter remark. A huff leaves your lips, then nothing. Good, the Apostle is sure if this goes on, he’ll be scrubbing your wrinkly skin raw. Peter sets the washcloth aside and grabs the shower head, aiming the lukewarm stream of water at your body and clearing away the bubbles and remaining grime.
The water sloshes underneath your body as you draw up your legs; the tub isn’t small by any means, but Peter is aware of his size and how his large stature might be a little suffocating to you in terms of space. His grasp on your waist loosens, wanting to speed things up so you both can get out of here quicker. Yet the second the soap on your skin is washed away, the guy can't help but let his eyes linger on the scar on your lower thigh.
"What?" Peter hears you huff again, sounding uncomfortable despite your nonchalant expression. One of your hands moves down to conceal the healing wound, even if through the little cracks between your fingers, he can still make out the pinkish scar tissue.
"How are you feeling?" It's a genuine concern on his part.
"Um," your hesitation doesn't escape his notice, even palpably so when you start shifting awkwardly between his legs. Peter just wants to make sure, but he has no problem with dropping the topic if it irks you. That is what he thinks, but you finish the sentence, "better?"
So it doesn't hurt anymore, at least not as badly as it used to. The man lets out a low hum, then turns his head to hang the showerhead into its wall-mount bracket.
"No hair wash?" Are you serious right now? Peter rolls his eyes for real—an act he's very much acquainted with in the past six weeks living here—before facing you.
"No hair wash," there you go again with that annoying pout. Really makes him wonder how the hell you two are the same age, "I won't have you lazing around in here for more than 30 minutes."
Sensing an upcoming brainless argument, the raven-haired assassin stands up and walks out of the bath, taking you with him. He promptly ignores the way you yelp when one right hand grazes a ticklish spot on your nape to keep you still, instead reaching for two towels sitting on the sink. Peter wraps one of them around his waist and focuses on patting you dry with the other. There's a bored look on his face while you just stand there, grumbling under your breath about how you can do this on your own. Brat.
"Put this on." He draps the towel over your shoulders and hands you a fresh set of clothes for the night. Only when you take them does he start putting on his own; a moment of silence follows, save for the rustling of fabric. It’s oddly calming, and even though he has used to going through days without a wink of sleep, Peter feels his eyes getting droopy as he puts on his grey hoodie; the day’s exhaustion finally catching up.
You let out a yawn, putting your hand on his shoulder for support while you slip on a pair of cotton slippers. Now he just has to wait for you to finish up.
“Hey, Peter…”
“Hm?”
The guy looks over his shoulder when you call out his name. This time, you don’t meet his gaze, instead staring down on the floor as you scrawl with one foot.
”Sorry for my mini tantrum earlier.” You gulp, and was that shame he just heard? ”You were just trying to do your job…”
Peter cocks an eyebrow. He isn’t mad at you, per se—the smirk on his lips giving away his rare playfulness—more like the usual light-hearted annoyance (that makes him want to choke you due to how stubborn you are sometimes, but that’s out of the question). You’re still 97% better than most people the Apostle had encountered in his line of work, and that is to say out of the other 3% he didn’t fumble (or kill), you’re the girl who happens to fit the closest to society’s definition of normal.
Not that he cares about what people think, anyway.
“A-And I acted out like a child…” He’s half-expecting another sorry, but you keep your head down in silence. You must be waiting for his answer then, so the guy decides to give you an easy way out; the further teasing comment that is about to leave his mouth can be saved for another time.
”Aside from the occasional migraines you gave me,” Peter smiles, putting a hand on your head as he starts ruffling your hair. "you're not too bad yourself. Apology accepted."
You mirror his mirth, though only for a brief second. Schooling your expression into a mask of faux frustration, you huff and try to pry his hand off. “Right right, now stop would ya? You’re gonna mess up my hair!”
Again, sleep comes first. As fun as it is to taunt you, Peter needs to get you to bed. Tuck you in… is that what it is called? The Apostle mentally cringes at the term; Father Gabriel really did land him into babysitting his niece.
“Right… let’s go.” He settles for giving your head one last pat before motioning you to walk towards the door connected to your bedroom. The distance is short, but Peter knows you’ll be there when he turns around.
Tomorrow will just be another day.
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