#I'm sure someone has noticed this before and thought of an explanation

[password-door-lock]

“Saeyoung might get cold,” Saeran muses, “While you’re escaping with him tonight.”

You glance around out of habit, making sure that Rika and V aren’t within earshot before you speak. “Have you seen his jacket anywhere around here?” You know that Saeyoung treasures his black and yellow hoodie, because he used to wear it every day. 

“Well…” Now it’s Saeran’s turn to glance around the room, “You could always take a look. Maybe Rika stashed it somewhere.”

Despite the heaviness of the situation, you can’t help but return Saeran’s smile. “Are you suggesting I go through her stuff?” 

Saeran shrugs, looking sheepish. “Anything for Saeyoung.” 

He’s trying to keep the mood light, but you can tell he’s worried. Your escape might take a while, and the night might be chilly. Moreover, if Saeyoung was kidnapped from his house, you have no idea whether it’ll be safe for him to return to it even once he escapes— and even if he is able to return, he might not be willing, if the resources that he needs to help Saeran are located at C&R headquarters. It might be good for him to have something warm to wear, just in case. “Okay, anything for Saeyoung,” you agree, “Where would Rika keep a sweatshirt?”

Saeran considers it. “Maybe… near where she’s keeping Saeyoung? Since she wanted us to stay here, she must have got some stuff for us.” He sounds calm, but you can tell he’s tense. “I’d go over there myself, but…” 

But he is chained to the wall, in a very deliberate position, so that he can’t get anywhere near his brother. Rika must have suspected that Saeran would try to remove Saeyoung’s IV and free him from the sleeping draft under which she is keeping him. “I’ll be right back.” If Rika tries to confront you again, you can just tell her that Saeran was cold and asked you to look for a sweatshirt he could put on. That way, neither of the twins will face any retribution for your actions. 

There is, indeed, a small chest of drawers located near the bed where Saeyoung is sleeping. In order to access it, you have to bend down, close enough to whisper to your friend without his brother hearing. “We’re gonna get you out of here,” you promise, “And then we’re gonna come back for Saeran.” 

You don’t care what the plan is. You’re not leaving your love behind in this horrible place— but you do understand that this first step is necessary to rescue Saeyoung. In the top drawer, you find T-shirts, socks, and underwear. In the second drawer, you find a few pairs of pants. But in the bottom drawer, you are able to locate a few warmer-looking garments. One of them is clearly intended for Saeyoung— it’s pale green, with a yellow stripe across the middle and a darker green hood. You remove it from the drawer. His favorite hoodie is nowhere to be found; you hope it didn’t get misplaced when Saeyoung was being moved from Rika’s apartment to V’s house. 

There’s also a brown sweater vest, which you imagine is supposed to be for Saeran. What Rika is doing is horrible, but she has a pretty good handle on the twins’ personal styles. Maybe she thought she could make them feel more at home by providing things they’d like. If only she would understand that neither brother will ever truly feel at home until both of them are free… You shake your head, dismissing the thought for now as you slide both garments into your bag.

“Did you find anything, my sweet?” Saeran asks as you pad back over. 

“Mhm,” you withdraw the green sweatshirt. “For Saeyoung. It looks like it would fit him, so he definitely won’t get cold.”

“What else did you grab?” 

You sigh, knowing that you can’t get anything past Saeran. “A sweater for you.”

“I’m not cold right now, my love,” he assures you with a smile. “But thank you. I’ll put it on if I need to.”

“No,” you shake your head. “I’m taking it with me— for when we rescue you. You might get cold, too.” You don’t know whether you’ll be able to stop back at your place, where Saeran left his blue sweater, before you come back for him. Preferably, you’ll be able to turn around and leave as soon as you get Saeyoung to safety.

“MC…” Saeran grabs your hand. “I know you don’t want to leave me, but—”

“Saeran,” you cut him off, not wanting to hear it. “Baby.” 

“I have to stay here to protect you and Saeyoung,” he reminds you, for what feels like the hundredth time today. “There’s no guarantee that I’ll make it out of here. You have to focus on saving yourself, and looking after my brother. That’s how I’ll be able to live on, even if I’m not here to give my love to you myself.” 

But you can be just as stubborn as Saeran is. You’ll find a way to come back for him, whether it fits in with his master plan or not. You hold up the sweater. “For when you’re free.” 

Saeran sighs heavily. “Alright, my love.” His smile is weak, but it’s still present. “For if I’m free.”

[aventurineswife]

I’m

Have a stupid idea

So, reader has been a genshin player for a while and a dedicated Alhaitham main, always gushing over him when they’re able to get a good look at his model. Which, unbeknownst to reader, he can hear them, the characters are aware to some degree. But then they get isekai’d into the game and proceed to avoid him like the plague because he’s very hot intimidating in person and also almost a foot taller than reader

Could I maybe get a drabble or hcs of this stupid lil thing?

“Am I Still Perfect?”

Tags: Alhaitham x Reader, Drabble, Isekai, Fluff, Humor, Light Embarrassment.

A/N: please make sure to read the pinned post next time (especially the closed reqs)🧍‍♀️... I'm making an exception this time but I won't do it again.

You had always admired Alhaitham from the comfort of your screen. His sharp wit, broad shoulders, and meticulously crafted voice lines made him your favorite Genshin character. Pulling him during his banner felt like winning the lottery, and you were notorious among your friends for your constant gushing over him.

“Look at him,” you’d sigh, zooming in on his model during idle animations. “He’s so perfect.”

Unbeknownst to you, Alhaitham was well aware of your doting admiration. The Traveler’s world (aka your world) wasn’t as disconnected as you thought, and your praises reached his ears like whispers on the wind. He never mentioned it, of course. What use would it be to comment on the opinions of someone from an entirely different dimension?

Then you woke up in Sumeru.

You weren’t sure how it happened, but you were here, flesh and bone in a world you once navigated with a mouse and keyboard (or your phone). The lush foliage and warm breeze were incredible, but so was the realization that you’d be meeting the people you once thought of as mere pixels.

People like him.

The first time you saw Alhaitham in the Akademiya, you nearly fainted. Not because you were starstruck—though you certainly were—but because he was much more intimidating in person. His presence was magnetic, his sharp eyes even more piercing than you could’ve imagined, and his sheer height made you feel like a mouse in the shadow of a falcon.

You ducked behind a bookshelf, heart hammering. No way. Absolutely not. You could not face him.

From then on, you avoided him like the plague. If you saw his hair glinting in the sun, you’d take another path. If you heard his voice nearby, you’d excuse yourself from the conversation and flee.

But Alhaitham wasn’t stupid. He’d noticed you skulking around, eyes wide as you scurried away whenever he entered a room.

“Strange,” he murmured to himself one day. “They seemed far more enthusiastic in their words before.”

Finally, your luck ran out. You turned a corner in the marketplace and smacked straight into him. His firm chest was like a wall, and you stumbled back, your brain short-circuiting as you craned your neck to meet his gaze.

“Careful,” he said, his voice low and measured. “You might hurt yourself running around like that.”

“I—I—uh—” Words failed you.

He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head. “You’ve been avoiding me. Why?”

Your face burned. Oh no, he noticed?! “N-no reason! You’re just—uh—very busy, and I didn’t want to bother you!”

His lips twitched, the faintest ghost of a smirk. “I don’t mind being bothered. In fact, I think you owe me an explanation for all the… glowing praise you’ve been giving me.”

You wanted to sink into the ground. He knows?!

“That’s—uh—it’s not—uh…”

He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice so only you could hear. “Am I still… perfect?”

Your knees wobbled. Alhaitham straightened, a satisfied glint in his eye. “I’ll take your silence as a yes. Now then, I believe I’ll see you around more often.”

And with that, he walked away, leaving you frozen, flustered, and thoroughly defeated.

[hajimeseyo]

(part 1 here! it's not required for reading this piece, but they are connected, so it'll make more sense if you read the first part first!)

The door to the sewing club slides open with a loud BANG!

“Yo.” A tall, intimidating guy with blond, braided hair strolls in, with all the casualness of someone taking a trip to the convenience store.

You gape wordlessly at him from where you're sitting, still jolted from the lound and sudden bang. Who is this? What does he want?? Has he ever heard of knocking??? 

“Let’s go eat, Mitsuya, I'm hungry as fu– oh, sorry, didn't see you there.” he strides into the room, pausing when he sees you. You can only blankly nod in response, the movement itself almost pure instinct, brain still running on fight or flight mode. 

A light chuckle comes from your right, and you shift your gaze to the lilac haired male sitting next to you. He shoots you a reassuring smile before turning his attention back to the blond, now standing in front of him.

“Gimme a moment, yeah? I'm almost done here.” He motions to the school jacket in his hand. Your school jacket, actually. You accidentally ripped it while you were at school, and Mitsuya insisted on helping you fix it, waving away your voiced worries of taking away his precious lunch time. 

He returns to the current task at hand, hands swiftly and fluidly sewing the tear up, masterful after years of practice. Your gaze returns back to the blond guy as he pulls up a chair from one of the nearby tables and plops down across from Mitsuya. They seem familiar with each other, the way both are relaxed in each other’s presence. 

“Oh yeah, this is Draken, by the way. The guy I was telling you about.” Mitsuya pauses briefly from his sewing to introduce the new person in the room. You immediately perk up at the familiar name. Well, that clears up a lot of things.

“Draken? The guy with the matching dragon tattoo?” You ask, eyes alight with intrigue. Draken snorts amusedly. 

“I see you've heard the story.” He turns his head so you can see the familiar dragon tattoo inked into the left side of his head, the exact mirror of Mitsuya's. Your mouth forms into a little ‘o’ at the sight of it. “This tattoo is mine, by the way. Paid for it and everything.”

Another snort, from Mitsuya this time. “Right, I'm sure you paid for it fair and square.” A smile dances on his lips as he continues sewing, eyes focused.

“Hey, who was the one who ate all my rice first?”

“Um, excuse me…” Your voice turns Draken's attention back to you. “If you don't mind, could I take a closer look at your tattoo?” You shyly ask the blonde male. 

His eyebrows raise at the bold request, and you hurriedly add on to your previous question. “It’s just that, I've seen Mitsuya's one before, but I couldn't really get a full view due to his hair covering most of it. It seemed really cool, so…”

The explanation seems to placate him, and he smiles reassuringly, the sight easing some of your nerves. “Yeah, go ahead, knock yourself out.” 

You brighten up at that, immediately moving your seat to Draken’s left and wasting no time in studying every detail of the tattoo.

“Woahh…it’s so different seeing it in its entirety! It really is beautiful…”

“Heh, right? I thought it would’ve been such a shame, leaving such a cool design to stay hidden in some dingy alley, so getting it as a tattoo was a no-brainer. Didn’t expect this guy over here to do the same, though.”

“Hahah, you really made the right decision. It fits you really well!”

“Yeah, and it fit with my name too, y’kno? Draken, dragon. Really helps with making a name for yourself.”

“Ooh, that’s a cool detail!”

As you ooh and aah over the inked dragon on Draken’s head, unconsciously shifting closer and closer to him, you don’t notice how Mitsuya pauses in his work, quietly staring at the two of you with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Have you seen the actual mural? It’s way bigger than this tattoo.”

“I haven’t, actually.”

“If you want, I can bring you sometime—”

“[name].” Mitsuya cuts in loudly, both your heads snapping towards him at the sound. He raises the repaired jacket in his hands with a smile that doesn’t really seem to reach his eyes. “The jacket’s done.”

“Oh!” You hop off the stool and gratefully accept the jacket as he walks over to hand it to you, lilac eyes never leaving your figure as you slip your arms through the sleeves, blissfully unaware. “Good as new! Thank you so, so much, Mitsuya.” 

His eyes soften at your sincere words, a warm smile naturally finding its way onto his face at your happy expression. “No problem at all, [name].”

“I’ll get going, then. I don’t wanna take up anymore of both of your lunch time.” you say, turning around to leave. You shoot Draken a wave as you walk past. “Bye, Draken! It was nice meeting you; maybe I’ll take you up on that offer to see the mural sometime.”

“You too, [name]. I’ll see you around.”

Mitsuya coughs lightly, and the sound prompts you to continue moving towards the exit. He follows closely behind you, reaching forward to open the door before you can.

“Thank you again, ‘tsuya.” You say once more, turning to him with a bashful grin. 

He huffs amusedly. “Like I said, it’s no problem at all. You can come to me anytime if you have any problems.” Your lips curl up even more at that, cheeks tinged with the slightest pink.

“Also,” He lets out another light cough, and you can’t help but take note of the way his ears are tinged red, how he suddenly seems to be avoiding your gaze. “You don’t…have to take Draken up on his offer.” he quietly says, words slowly turning into mumbles, the red from his ears slowly spreading to his cheeks. “I can bring you…if you want. And,” His face is fully red at this point, words so quiet you had to lean in to hear them. “if you want to look at the tattoo up close, you can just look at mine anytime…” he trails off, eyes looking anywhere but you.

You gape at him. This was something you definitely weren’t expecting. Despite your surprise, you can’t stop the giddy smile spreading across your face, giggling as you try to hold back your teasing. He’s already flustered enough; you suppose you’d spare him, just this once.

“Okay then.” You wave at him as you step out, eyes twinkling with mirth. “See you, ‘tsuya!”

Mitsuya watches your figure go until you disappear from his sight, sighing in relief and slight disbelief as he closes the door to the club. He hadn’t really planned on saying that, but the words just… slipped out. Something about the way you looked at him made them bubble up until he couldn’t contain them any longer. At least your reaction was positive.

He turns around, fully prepared to put the whole thing behind him, only to be greeted with a razor-sharp grin. Draken wiggles his eyebrows at him, looking like a cat that just caught its prey.  “So…someone got jealous, huh?”

Mitsuya lets out a suffering groan. “Please. Don’t tell anyone. You didn’t see anything.”

Draken cackles. “Maybe I’ll consider it if you buy me a karubi don.”

He’s so telling everyone. 

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Gooigi (again)

Debut: Luigi's Mansion (3DS)

When I was playing Luigi's Mansion 3 for the first time, I was thinking, "I sure love Gooigi. I wish I could write a Weird Mario Enemies post on him, but we already have one..." but I now realize! That post was written before the release of 3! We had no idea! No idea.

Who is the Mario character with the most fleshed-out backstory? Is it Mario, with his monolithic catalogue of media appearances? No, the insight we get into his past is simplistic at most. Is it Rosalina, with her beloved storybook? She comes close, I will admit, but there is someone who comes closer! Can you guess who it is? Can you guess the character I am hyping up in the post with a big image of Gooigi at its forefront? Yes, you can! It's Gooigi.

Indeed, Gooigi has seven entire pages of lore from the official website, written from the perspective of E. Gadd himself, explaining his origins, how he does what he does, WHY he does what he does, everything! You can read it here, and I'm not going to waste time repeating what was already said. I will just paraphrase: Goo is made from coffee mixed with ghost energy. Gooigi is the result of Luigi's digital data being zapped into it for a default form. Gooigi was sent back in time to Luigi's Mansion 1 for training and research purposes, and is now stored in a canister in the Poltergust G-00.

Got it? Good. Here is Baby Gooigi. How precious! Back before he had any Luigi in him at all. This is Goo in a human-shaped mold, and you may notice the mold itself has no face. Baby Gooigi learned how to express agony all on his own! It's no wonder they took a photo of this milestone!

Now with Super Mario Bros. Wonder, we have TWO gelatinous Luigis to choose from. And why not both? Gooigi is a separate entity, so Gooigi and Wubba Luigi can coexist! But not always... when playing Luigi's Mansion 3 single player, Luigi and Gooigi must be controlled separately. Luigi is able to will his consciousness into the doppelgangreener to control its movements, and it's here that it gets extra weird! Weird to the point that this game basically has multiple possible continuities?

Gooigi is NOT scared of ghosts, at all! He is an anomaly to them! This is very much "distinct character" behavior. But how is this the case if Luigi wills his soul into Gooigi? Well, both concepts are kind of true at the same time! As we can see here, cutscenes will actually change depending on if the game is in single-player or co-op play, portraying different events! Really really weird! It's like if Schroedinger's Cat was a pair of funny green men, one with bones and organs, and one translucent. So what is the truth...? (Spoilers for Luigi's Mansion 3 ahead...)

In the ending, even in single-player mode, Gooigi is portrayed as his own sentient character! Even though this contradicts the "consciousness transfer" lore, I think this is the "true" intention for him. It's much more fun and less awkward if he can be active at the same time as Luigi! I also don’t think they care that much about minor gameplay features being lore-compliant, since Polterpup got pupils in the end of the second game, and those were removed in 3 without explanation.

Unfortunately, as the hotel crumbles after King Boo's defeat, Gooigi falls from the top floor and dies.

He even says "bye-bye" before the fall. I can't believe this. How could Nintendo allow something so upsetting? They thought it was okay to let Gooigi say "bye-bye" rather than "goo-dbye"? That has "goo" in it! It would have been perfect. (I am not actually upset by this at all and "bye-bye" is more in character)

After splattering on the pavement he reforms, because duh. He's goo. You can test this for yourself! Scoop a glob of mayonnaise out of the jar with your hand. Next, travel to the top of a skyscraper. Finally, drop the mayonnaise off of the side! When it hits the ground, it will not have died. Science Fact!

As silly it may be, I was a bit worried Gooigi might die for real, even though that wouldn't make any sense to happen. I was just thinking of modern Paper Mario, introducing new buddies only to take them away by the end. But I should have known that Luigi's Mansion is not at all like that! This is the series where they gave Luigi a dog, and that was that. We don't see Polterpup as often as we should, but it cannot be argued! Luigi has a dog. What would stop them from keeping Gooigi around? Nothing, that's what! He stays with E. Gadd, and is not going anywhere!

Just like Polterpup, I would love to see Gooigi more, though. I would love for him to be Luigi's answer to Metal Mario! Gooigi driving a kart! I don't care that he dies in water, and I don't think Nintendo would care too much either. I would like to leave you off with The Big Question. This is a new, distinct character, who is "genetically" similar to Luigi. As such.

[moodriingz]

The Prophecy | J. Hughes

Summary | You’ve given up on love until love hits you in the face (with a door) 

Warnings | Unedited, one curse word, (really bad) angst

Author's Note | I finally finished all of my finals! So that means more regular stories so send in requests! This is also part of my 100 follower celebration!

Masterlist

You never expected to feel so lost in a city you lived in for most of your adult life. You and your college boyfriend broke up after five years of dating. You met early in your freshman year and were stuck together like glue. He made you feel like you caught lightning in a bottle, so much so you were willing to do anything for him. So many of your friends thought you were going to get married and he had been hinting at it since you graduated a year ago.

You were blindsided when he said that he didn’t think you two should be together anymore and basically kicked you out of your shared apartment. Luckily Hannah, your best friend, offered to stay in her apartment until you could find one. 

All you could think was that it was your fault. Why else would he end it so suddenly? He gave you little to no explanation. Even though you were still so young you felt like you would never find a love like his. It was like someone was betting against you. All you ever wanted was someone who wanted your company.

After a couple of weeks you were able to find a new apartment in a different part of town and you never felt so excited or rejuvenated. Hannah was trying to convince you to start dating again, but you told her it was too soon. You were scared someone was betting against your love life and you didn’t want to risk it yet. 

Little did you know when you went to check out a new pizza place you would run into the cutest guy you’ve ever seen. It wasn’t a normal meeting though he almost gave you a concussion by hitting you with the door.

“I’m so sorry, are you ok? How many fingers am I holding up?” The stranger asks as he stares into your eyes looking for any signs of injury. Before you respond you notice his really tall friend recovering the pizza off the ground.

“I’m fine thank- why are you moving your finger in front of my eyes?” You ask confused about what he is doing.

“I’m trying to make sure you don’t have a concussion. You hit your head pretty hard when you fell,” he said, still doing some concussion protocol? You’re not too certain what is happening honestly.

“I think I’m ok I really appreciate it though,” you say finally getting the opportunity to stand up as he backs up. You go to move inside before he stops you.

“Wait what’s your name?”

“Y/n,” You tell him before turning around to enter the shop and order your much deserved pizza.

Later you meet up with Hannah to debrief about both of your weeks. You almost forgot to tell her about the mystery pizza man until she mentions dating to you again.

“Hannah, I'm not going on a date right now. But there was this really cute guy who almost gave me a concussion the other night when I went to get pizza,” You say nonchalantly.

“What? Y/n why didn’t you tell me? What’s his name? Are you going out with him?” She babbles as you roll your eyes.

“No to all of those questions. I felt like such a fool because of my ex and I’m not doing that again.” You say with a shrug. Living alone has really forced you to think about your relationship and you realized that the end of your relationship was most likely your fault, and you definitely do not want to get into another relationship until you figure out how to stop it from happening again.

After dinner you and Hannah decide to hit a club that was only semi full until the hockey crowd filtered in after the game. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits though so the Devils must have won.

Little did you know is that your pizza mystery man was currently walking in the club with some of his teammates to celebrate. Hannah was a pretty big fan and spotted some of them almost instantly.

“Oh my gosh the Devils are here we should go say hey. Maybe you can find a date,” She wasn’t going to take no for an answer so you just let her pull you by the wrist.

Hannah finally stops when she’s face to face with Nico, who you only recognize because of all of his ads around town. Before you can introduce yourself someone calls out your name.

“Y/n,” Your mystery man. He says it shocked like he didn’t expect to see you again.

“You know Jack Hughes?” Hannah whispers into your ear. You just ignore her because maybe it's fate? Maybe it’s a cruel joke?

You don’t even know what to say, you’re so shocked by the turn of events. You never would’ve thought you’d meet him again. You thought your near concussion experience would be the last you see of him.

“I’m Jack by the way,” He says and you’re drawn in by his voice and his eyes that haven’t left yours.

“I think you owe me a drink for almost killing me,” You say, shocking yourself.

“In my defense I didn’t try to give you a concussion, my brother was distracting me,” He says leading you to the bar. You order your regular drink and he does the same before asking you if you’d want to talk for a bit.  

The two of you talked for what seemed like minutes until Hannah came to find you to let you know that she’s leaving. You check the time and realize you should probably leave as well. 

“I had an amazing night thanks for keeping me company,” You say getting up to leave.

“Wait let me give you my number,” Jack says standing up and you nod, handing him your phone.

You walk Hannah home because you’re much more sober than she is and all she can talk about is that you know Jack Hughes.

“You should go out with him, he's so cute and sweet.”

“Hannah I’m not dating right now and you know that,” You say, leading her to her door.

“Yeah I know but you just deserve to be happy, and I really think he would be perfect for you,” She said, drawing out her syllables. You say goodnight and make your way home which luckily isn’t too far from her apartment.

The next day you decide to listen to Hannah and reach out to Jack. You try texting him telling him that you had a great time talking to him last night, but the message never gets delivered. All you can do is feel idiotic. It wasn’t fate to run into him twice (physically or not). You feel so childish thinking maybe this was your chance. 

You blame Hannah for getting your hopes up to think that maybe something could happen. You were starting to think that maybe it was some cruel joke fate was playing on you. You were almost compelled to pray to change your prophecy, but then you just started feeling even more insane. But, there must be a way to change it, right?

Later in the week you decide to work out of a cafe nearby and feel like the universe is playing some sick joke on you. As you look up your eyes meet with a pair of blue eyes staring you down. You smile shyly at the hockey player not knowing how to respond to someone who never responded to your text. Jack took that as an invitation to join you.

“You never called,” He says as he sits down.

“I texted but you never responded,” You say nervous you’d get turned down in person this time.

“What are you talking about? I was so excited to see you again because I wanted to get your number the first time we met but I thought it would be weird if I asked after almost giving you a head injury. I would’ve noticed if you texted me,” He rambles and you just pull out your phone to show him the message. He clicks around on your phone until his eyes get wide.

“I gave you the wrong number,” Jack says with a blush on his face. You feel that maybe your tables are turning. Instead of fate working against you, maybe they just wanted you two to meet a couple of times.

“Third times a charm right?” You smile at him as he fixes his number in your phone. You two fall into conversation once again before he checks the time.

“I have to go but I can’t leave until you agree to go on a date with me,” Jack says with a hopeful gleam in his eyes. You just nod knowing that someone was finally betting on your love life.

[ryuzakistoe]

Conflicted (Michael Kaiser x Fem!reader)

angst, fem!reader, arguing, and uhhh basically all angst, childhood friends, swearing

a/n: after this I honestly have no idea who to do next. I'm kinda in between Isagi again or someone else🤷‍♀️

I also got this as inspiration

BTW IM SO SORRY FOR BEING LATE

(omg I finally got it to work omg)

——

Experiencing someone you love deeply suddenly transform into a stranger can feel like the ground has fallen away beneath you. The trust you placed in them, the cherished memories, the laughter shared—all of it can vanish in an instant, leaving you grappling with an unbearable emptiness.

In the face of such devastation, some cling desperately to hope, convinced that the past can be reclaimed. They construct fragile illusions to shield themselves from the harsh truth, believing that everything will somehow return to the way it was. But these comforting lies only deepen the wounds, which lie temporarily closed, waiting to reopen with even more agony.

How long could you endure this torment? Some carry this weight for a lifetime, while others crumble under the pressure far too soon. For you, how long will you hold on, waiting for that moment when you perhaps see him again? How long until the heaviness of his “explanation” crushes you? In the end, when the truth finally pierces through the lies you've built around your heart, how will you cope with the devastation and lies?

Thats up to you.

…🥀…

Frequent moves were a normal part of your life, given that your father, a businessman, was always busy either supporting or establishing new companies. Over time, you became accustomed to the constant change, no longer feeling as upset or frustrated about leaving behind new memories and friends.

With your mother having sadly passed away, your father was the only family you had. However, his demanding schedule often kept him away, leaving you with too much free time. You would often wander aimlessly, your father always worrying since you were still so young.

One day, during one of these aimless walks, you noticed a boy around your age dressed in dusty, worn clothes, playing with an old, worn out soccer ball. You found yourself standing there, captivated, as he skillfully shifted the ball from one foot to the other. The fluid motion of his dribbling drew you in, sparking a sense of fascination.

Eventually, the boy noticed your quiet admiration.

"Can I help you, gnädige Frau?" he asked, his thick German accent coloring his voice as he stopped the ball under his foot.

Since arriving in Germany a few months ago, you had made steady progress with the language. Your father insisted you familiarize yourself with the formalities and learn a good number of words, as speaking German would be essential for getting by.

"I was just watching you play," you replied, mirroring his language and matching the casual energy in his tone.

He regarded you for a moment, as though sizing you up, before speaking again. "Do you know how to play? Fußball, meine ich," he said, his expression unreadable.

You hesitated briefly. While you were familiar with the basics and rules of football, you'd never actually played it. Your most significant experience with the sport had been attending a game with your cousin—an exciting memory, but that was as far as it went.

"I'm not sure how to play, but I understand the basics and the rules," you admitted, glancing briefly at the soccer ball.

"Only the basics, huh?" he murmured, flicking the ball up with the same foot that had held it steady. It flew in the air before dropping neatly into his arms.

The blonde boy began to walk toward you, his gaze fixed on you the entire time. Stopping just a few feet away, he asked, "What's your name?"

"Y/n L/n," you answered softly.

"Y/n L/n…" he echoed, as if testing the sound of your name on his tongue. His eyes drifted to the side, and he repeated your name again, his tone thoughtful, as though trying to commit it to memory or decipher some hidden meaning within it.

“And what's your name?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at his peculiar behavior.

The blonde boy seemed to snap out of his thoughts, his eyes meeting yours again. "Michael Kaiser," he replied.

Without warning, he tossed the ball toward you, giving you no time to react. It landed between your feet, and you glanced down at it slowly.

"Kick the ball," he instructed.

You looked back up at Kaiser, processing his words. Kick the ball? That sounded simple enough. You positioned your foot carefully, recalling how professional players did it, and swung your leg forward.

The ball rolled back to Kaiser with surprising smoothness, considering you had little experience with football.

Catching it effortlessly with his foot, Kaiser smirked. "Not bad for someone who doesn't know how to play," he remarked.

You weren’t sure if he was being genuine or just mocking you. "Thanks," you mumbled quietly, watching as he shuffled the ball between his feet.

He suddenly paused, then said something that caught you off guard. "Play with me."

You raised an eyebrow. "But I told you, I don’t really know how to play."

"I'll teach you," he responded almost instantly, his tone carrying a hint of urgency. There was a longing in his voice, and you could understand why. It had clearly been a while since he'd had anyone to play with.

Kaiser was always alone. The other kids avoided him, seeing him as an oddball because of his scruffy clothes, unkempt hair, and the bruises that covered him—marks left by his father. They treated him like an outcast, believing there was something wrong with him.

While they ignored him, Kaiser watched from a distance, wishing he could join in, longing for the kind of companionship they took for granted.

He would often imagine himself in the place of one of the other kids, letting his mind create a vivid scene of joining in and having fun. It was as if his consciousness played alongside them while his real body stayed behind, observing from a distance.

But now, he had a real chance to play with someone, no longer just imagining the experience.

Kaiser began teaching you everything he knew about football. You didn’t become an instant expert, but you quickly gained a better understanding of the sport. It started simply, with the two of you passing the ball back and forth while he explained the basics. Gradually, he introduced more advanced moves, each one more challenging than the last.

Before long, you had learned almost everything he had to teach, and Kaiser was genuinely pleased. Finally, he had someone to share the game with—a real companion, not just a daydream.

Day after day, whenever your father was busy with work, you met up with Kaiser. The two of you would play quick soccer matches, though Kaiser usually came out on top. It didn’t matter to him who won; having someone to share his favorite pastime with was all he had ever wanted as of right now.

You found yourself enjoying his company too. Since moving here, you hadn’t had anyone to talk to, spending most of your free time wandering aimlessly through unfamiliar places. Meeting Kaiser changed that. He had become an important part of your life, and you could tell that he felt the same.

The time you spent together brought you happiness, and the bond you shared grew stronger with each passing day. But then, a few years later, everything began to change.

…🥀…

Kaiser was well aware of his growing feelings for you. He wasn’t oblivious; he knew all too well the risks of letting them show. But that didn't stop them from deepening. It only made it harder to ignore.

After years of hard work, he finally secured a spot on Bastard München’s football team—a dream realized, and you had been there through it all. You were always by his side, ready to support him whenever he needed it. You were the person he could lean on, and that meant everything to him.

Over time, he came to depend on you. There were days when it felt like you were the only one who truly understood him, when he found himself seeking you out for solace. Your presence brought him a sense of calm that no one else could.

He began to rely on you.

It was inevitable, really. Being around someone as steadfast and caring as you, his feelings naturally began to shift and grow into something more.

He started to notice the way his gaze lingered on you whenever you spoke, how his cheeks would flush at the sight of your smile. He noticed how much weight your words carried with him, how the sun seemed to light up your skin in a way that drew him in. He couldn’t ignore the warmth that bloomed inside him just from seeing you.

He began to notice everything. And as much as he loved these feelings, he hated them just as much.

This was exactly what he was afraid of—this so-called "love" that threatened to unravel him. The thought of being vulnerable, of exposing that side of himself, terrified him. As his reputation as the "Emperor" grew, so did his fear of appearing weak.

His skills, his ego, and you—they had all shaped who he was and brought him to this point. He couldn’t afford to risk that. It was only natural that he didn’t want to gamble away everything he had worked for. Throwing it all away over a feeling seemed like the height of foolishness.

But was all the arguing and shared anger really worth it?

No, not at all.

…

"Y/n, is it really that hard for you to just listen to me?”

"But why…? Why now?"

The look Kaiser gave you was unfamiliar, his eyes now cold and distant. It was a side of him you had never seen before.

How did it come to this?

…

In the past few days, something had changed in him. The warmth that once lit up his face whenever he saw you had vanished, replaced by a faint scowl. The way he looked at you now—like you were just another bothersome fan—stung in a way you couldn’t understand. Sometimes he would just ignore your presence entirely, leaving you in silence.

"Y/n, I won't say it again. Please, for once, just listen and go. I don’t want to see you right now."

"But Michael! You still haven't told me why!" The desperation in your voice hung in the air, unanswered.

But It was as if Kaiser had just… snapped. Was it your endless questions? Your desperate pleas? Or maybe it was the look in your eyes each time he tried to brush you off.

"You want the truth, Y/n? Fine. Just looking at you makes me sick!"

His words hit like a punch to the gut, leaving you breathless. What did he mean? Had he always felt this way? If so, for how long? Were you too much for him?

A storm of thoughts swirled in your mind, each one cutting deeper than the last, as you felt the sting of tears welling up.

"Michael… what…?" you whispered, your voice trembling and barely audible.

"You make me feel sick, Y/n. Nauseous." His tone was sharp, laced with irritation, as if the very act of saying it exhausted him.

A couple of tears managed to form in your eye sockets as you quietly murmured, “Michael…but why? Why do I make you feel like this? Was it something I did..—”

Kaiser clenched his jaw, frustration and bitterness seething beneath his words. How could you be so clueless?

“Yes, Y/N, you did do something—no, you did everything!” he burst out. “Every time you smile, I can’t look away. Your stupid hair falls just right and it’s distracting. Your annoying voice—it calms me, like some kind of spell. And your eyes, the way they look at me… I feel sick because of the warmth you put in my stomach. I hate that I look forward to your presence, that you’re all I think about, that I’ve developed these feelings for you—I hate it all!” His fists tightened, a mix of embarrassment and anger rising to his face.

Your eyes widened. Was this a confession? Were these compliments or just veiled insults? What was he trying to say?

You stared at him, speechless, before managing to whisper, “Michael… you… you have feelings for me?”

Kaiser glanced away, reluctant to admit it. But there was no denying it—this was, in its own way, almost a confession.

Mind you, Almost, a confession.

"I wish I didn’t." His voice was low, almost resigned, and you couldn't help the frown that tugged at your lips. Why would he want to bury something as powerful as this? It didn’t make sense.

"Michael… " you spoke, your voice barely a whisper. "Why would you wish these feelings away? I… I could feel the same way about you, you know…"

He shook his head slowly, as if each movement was a struggle. When he spoke, his tone was firm but tinged with something that resembled sorrow. "It doesn't matter, Y/n. Even if you do, I can't accept it. I can’t accept us."

His words hit you like a cold gust of wind. "You mean… you wouldn't be able to return my feelings?" Your chest tightened as you forced out the question, though deep down, you already knew the answer.

Michael's silence was answer enough, but still, you couldn’t let it end there. "Well," you began, the words stumbling out before you could stop them, "I guess that’s just too bad because… I really do have feelings for you." Your voice wavered slightly, betraying how hard it was to admit, but the truth had taken root too deeply to be ignored.

You had begun to realize it months ago, maybe even longer. The symptoms of love crept in slowly, almost imperceptibly at first—the way his presence made you feel more alive, the longing to hear his voice even when he wasn’t around, the flutter in your chest with every small gesture. Now, standing in front of him, all those little moments coalesced into something undeniable. Yet, here you were, offering your heart to someone who refused to hold it.

You found yourself looking forward to every visit with him, craving the moments you could be near. Even though you saw each other regularly, it never felt like enough. You often caught yourself inventing excuses just to stay a little longer, clinging to each second as if it might be your last chance to be close.

Your gaze drifted toward him, hoping to catch his eye and find some sign of understanding there. But instead of meeting your gaze, he looked away, his expression guarded.

"As I said before, Y/n, I can't," he repeated, his voice steady but distant.

Frustration surged within you, a knot tightening in your chest. Why couldn’t he just explain? Why was he so determined to keep you at arm's length? "Michael, for heaven’s sake, just tell me why!" you demanded, your voice rising with a mix of irritation and desperation. "Why can’t you? We could figure this out… it doesn’t have to be this way."

You were exhausted—tired of the same vague answer, the same unyielding response. "I can’t" wasn’t good enough anymore. You needed the truth, a real reason to justify the wall he kept building between you.

Kaiser noticed the edge in your voice, and frustration flared in his eyes as he responded, his tone sharper than before. "Because I can't risk everything I’ve worked so hard for, Y/n! I’ve fought so hard to get where I am now, and I can't afford any distractions—not even love."

Distraction?

You blinked, his words hitting you like a slap. He thought this—whatever was between you—was just a distraction?

"H-huh…?" you breathed, the word barely audible as it slipped from your lips.

Kaiser tilted his head back, a bitter sigh escaping him as his jaw clenched in obvious irritation. "Did you not understand what I just said?" His voice dripped with exasperation, as though explaining himself was an exhausting chore.

You felt your brows draw together in a scowl, his words twisting in your mind. Of course, you heard him loud and clear, but all you could focus on was how cruel and dismissive he sounded. This whole "distraction" excuse felt like nothing but bullshit—a convenient shield to hide behind, rather than an honest reason.

"Is that what I am to you?" you said, your voice quivering with anger. It seems as if this was just another excuse of his.

His answer left you both hurt and furious, a bitter mix of emotions twisting inside you. Sure, you finally got the explanation you’d been pushing for, but this? This was what he had to say?

"Love… a distraction?" you echoed, your voice strained as you struggled to keep your composure. "Michael, are you serious right now?" You could barely recognize the man standing before you; this wasn’t the Michael Kaiser you thought you knew.

"Do I look like I'm making this up, Y/n?" he shot back, his tone icy and unyielding. "I can’t let anything interfere. I've worked too hard for what I have, and I won't risk losing it all just to chase after some fantasy. I can’t afford to be blinded by ‘love.’ I can’t afford to be weak. Not now." He took a step closer, his gaze piercing into yours.

You stared into those familiar blue eyes—eyes that once looked at you with warmth and admiration. Now, they were cold and hollow, carrying only frustration and something far more unsettling: emptiness. It was like staring into the eyes of a stranger, someone who had shed any trace of the person you thought you cared for.

"I want to be the best, and I can’t do that with emotions weighing me down," he said, his tone harsh and unyielding. "I need a clear path, free from distractions. Do you even realize how much I stand to lose if I let the smallest thing pull my focus? I could lose everything. I could end up weak… and that’s something I refuse to accept."

His words felt like a cold slap, each one slicing through you. "I’ve sacrificed so much just to get where I am today. So there it is, Y/n. I won’t let these emotions derail me. Not even for you."

A tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it, a silent testament to the heartbreak squeezing your chest. Was this really it? Was he just going to leave you behind because you didn’t fit into his perfect, distraction-free life? It felt like the ground had fallen out from beneath you.

"This is bullshit, Michael," you snapped, your voice shaking with anger. "You’re just going to drop me like that? After everything? After all the times I’ve been there for you, stood by your side, supported you through every step of your soccer career—this is how you repay me? Do you even realize how messed up that is?"

Your voice rose, trembling with the frustration and betrayal burning inside you. "You can’t just cut me out because I don’t fit neatly into your plans. Do you even hear yourself right now?"

Anger flared in his eyes, and his voice rose, laced with frustration. "Yes, Y/n, I’m going to leave you! Didn’t you hear a word I just said? I can’t risk everything I’ve worked for. I’ve come too far to let ‘love’ make me weak—I’ll lose it all!"

"Why can’t you see that love won’t make you weak?" you cried out, your voice cracking with desperation.

"Tch. I already told you—it’s a distraction," he shot back, his tone cold and dismissive.

Each word felt like a dagger, piercing deeper as he repeated the same relentless argument, as if mocking the very idea of you. He was unyielding, his walls built so high that nothing you said could seem to reach him.

"So that’s it, then?" you murmured, your voice trembling as tears stung your eyes. "All of it? All of this—even me—it’s just a distraction?"

For a split second, something in his expression wavered. The guilt in his eyes betrayed him as he saw the hurt etched across your face. But just as quickly, he masked it, his pride and stubbornness locking him in place. He stayed silent, his hand twitching as if he wanted to reach out but refused to let himself.

The truth was, when you first told him how you felt, a spark of joy had flickered inside him—something he hadn’t felt in a long time. But now, with every pained word that left your lips, he buried that feeling deeper, forcing it down beneath the weight of his ambition. He couldn’t afford to let you see it. He couldn’t afford to let himself feel it.

It pained him to see you like this, knowing he was the cause. He never intended to hurt you like this—never imagined he’d be the one to break your heart.

Of course, his ambitions meant more to him than his "best friend." That was the cruel truth—his future outweighed everything, even you.

The silence stretched between you until you finally broke it, your voice trembling. "Is that a yes or a no, Michael? Please… just answer me."

His gaze softened at the sight of you, your face etched with desperation and pain. He truly felt bad—guilt clawed at him—but he couldn’t let it sway him. He believed this was necessary. He believed it was for the best.

"Yes," he said quietly.

The word hit you like a blow, and your head dropped, a broken breath escaping your lips. You never thought it would come to this—never imagined this was how the two of you would part ways.

Quiet sobs began to slip from you, growing louder with each passing second as tears streamed down your cheeks. Soon, the dam broke, and you were wailing into your hands, trying in vain to wipe away the endless flow of tears. Your heart ached with a hollow emptiness that spread through your chest—the same emptiness that Michael once filled, now torn wide open.

It felt as though a piece of you had been ripped away. You and Michael had been through hell and back together, always supporting and lifting each other up. Now, there was a cold, hollow place in your heart where he used to be, a void that felt unbearable.

After a moment, you forced yourself to look up, only to see him walking away, the distance between you growing with every step.

"Michael… mein Schatz… come back… please…" you whispered, your voice breaking. "I can't do this without you…" But he was already too far to hear, your pleas swallowed up by the empty space between you.

Kaiser kept his eyes on the ground, watching his own feet carry him further away. He didn’t dare look back. "Goodbye, meine Liebe…" he murmured softly, the words escaping like a breath.

a/n: so I actually kinda took my time with this so I hope its better 😐

Also I just rewatched aot, tell me why I forgot how FINE jean was in s4🤧😫 (and Levi)

ANDDD IM ROCKING WITH BLLK S2🤤

I'm going to lick his tattoos bro

[whatlurksbean]

Prefacing this with a note that WLB is absolutely one of my top two favorite comics (out of many) at the moment, and I look forward to every new page. There's just one thing that's been bugging me a lot.

Do the cats on the island not have a sense of smell, is there some other explanation, or is the fact that certain things are never noticed through smell an oversight? There are two major plot points that make me ask this.

The first is Thresher being poisoned. Lavender is one hell of a fragrant plant- my shitty human nose can pick it up easily just walking by it outside. The cats even remark on the smell of lavender in contexts aside from the Big One. If the lavender was straight up visible in Thresher's poisoned prey, surely someone would've noticed the smell? Especially Thresher himself with his nose right up in it.

The second is even bigger- Gull and the Family assuming Tusk ate her baby. Even assuming Tusk could somehow have eaten an entire infant child without getting blood on her face or the ground, surely the lack of the scent of fresh blood and gore would've been very obvious. Was this just Gull that nose-blinded by hate, and got everyone else to follow along, while Tusk's supporters were too panicked to think to point this out?

If it is an oversight, I can't blame you, I also write xenofiction and it's hard to consistently consider the physiological differences another species has from us. I just keep thinking about it and I'm really curious what the actual situation is.

There is logic to my choices, but i'm surely underestimating the power of the cat sniffer.

For Thresher, I don't think the family cats are well versed in plants from the forest. The do not have an official medic role, there is very little medical training around for them about plants. Sturgeon only knows lavender is poisonous from Petrel. Thresher may have noticed a smell, or even seen the plant, and he would have just brushed it off as something the bird / mouse ate or lived near before dying.

Auklet only picked up on it being a problem because he is more perceptive to his brothers health. Initially I didn't have him say that he "noticed the lavender" but rather "I've seen plants in his food." but people were getting confused enough on what Sturgeon was doing, so I decided to clarify it better and just make Auklet a little smarter. Because I don't think he or thresher would really know what Lavender is. It doesnt grow on the beaches. But I will make that logic sacrifice for clarity.

As for Gull, I think she was already convinced by her own bigotry that Tusk was guilty, despite what logic pointed to. Tusk was alone with her deceased kitten for hours and hours, and then he disappears without a trace. And Tusk hasnt left the cave, and surely no one would help her break the law and bury ray, and hake was within her sights the whole time. There was only one option in Gulls mind, and no one else in the family cared enough to fact check her. Gull is an elder and has helped deliver most of their kittens in the family, why would she lie? Tusk must be the monster here.

And cats CAN cannibalize their newborn kittens, it does happen and it is absolutely possible for there to be nothing left. It especially tends to happen with stillborn or sickly kittens, like tusks.

The smell part is definitely an oversight on that part though, I don't think I even thought about it for that scene. I don't think about what my food smelled like after i've eaten it. But I think that even if this was brought up by Hake or whoever, Gull wouldn't be convinced she's wrong. And it's not like Tusk would offer them to smell her breath.

idk, there is logic to my choices but it is certainly not wholey realistic, and it never would be in a xenofiction story, so I am okay with that.

[heavenlyvision]

˚₊‧⁺⋆༄ dearest pt.II first part ˗ˏˋ here ˎˊ˗ pairing: Vamp!Tomas x reader wc: 7k warnings: 18+ only, smut, mentions of injuries, blood drinking, cunnilingus, fingering, multiple orgasms, p in v sex, minor cumplay, -- like tiniest amount, afab!reader, no pronouns or y/n used, pet names used; dear/dearest a/n; i hope you enjoy it !!! i know this took a while for me to finish and i'm thankful to you all for being so patient !!! <333 MDNI | SMUT UNDER CUT

Most of your day is spent being anxious about Tomas’ promise to return tonight, you don’t know what he’s expecting, or if he’s expecting anything at all. Last night… sleeping with him was stupid, he’s not even really Tomas, you mean… he is… but he’s not. What even is his end game here, was it to sleep with you? Does he plan on killing you? And what is your end game? Surely you can’t leave him like this… you don’t want to leave him like this, you miss your Tomas.

The way you’re feeling is getting hazy and the lines are blurring, you’ve grown too attached to someone who isn’t even their original self. How would Tomas feel when he comes back, only to see you left him like that for so long, would he still look at you the way he used to? With kindness and adoration, or would he condemn you and tell you that you’ve broken his trust. These thoughts that plague you are debilitating, whatever you decide to do, you need to do it soon. Maybe you’ll be able to talk to him tonight… or maybe that’s not a great idea.

A knock on your door startles you out of your thoughts, looking to the clock you can see it’s about the time Kuai Liang visits everyday but when you open it, the only person in front of you is Harumi.

“Hi! It’s just me today, Kuai is a little bit busy but I’d like to chat, we’ve not spoken in a while,” she smiles at you, it’s kind but also mildly strained.

You eye her for a few moments, feeling uneasy by her lack of explanation and Kuai’s lack of presence, “…Yeah, uhh… come on in,” you say, stepping off to the side to let her into your home.

She brushes past you and moves to the small dining table, sitting as she asks, “How have you been?”

Lingering awkwardly, you answer, “I have been… fine I guess,” you pass her on the way into the kitchen, “Tea?”

“Yes, thank you,” she fiddles with her fingers against the table and quietly waits for you to return with tea, not speaking again until you’re done in the kitchen and sitting across from her, “I just wanted to come by and check on you, make sure you’re… well,” she blows on her drink, watching you carefully.

“I’ve been fine, not great but nothing has changed since yesterday,” you’re lying through your teeth, you just hope she doesn’t notice.

She has come here for a reason today and you aren’t quite sure what it is but she knows something, you can only hope she doesn’t know about Tomas visiting you nightly. The reactions you’d get from her, from everyone, well, to be quite honest are frightening to think about. You’ve waited so long now and there isn’t any real or good reason as to why – besides the fact that you enjoy Tomas and all of his attention, foolishly, you like him.

This visit is incredibly uncomfortable, you know why you’re uncomfortable but you can’t figure out why she’s uncomfortable. It’s been a good few moments now, of her trying to think of something to say and failing.

Your patience is growing thin and as you sigh, you decide to be blunt, “Has something happened, Harumi? You seem to be worrying about something.”

Her eyes grow wide for a second before she collects herself, “No, nothing has happened… I guess I’m just worried over Tomas, I’m not supposed to tell you… but he’s been moving closer to the village, I’m just a little concerned for you.”

If you hadn’t known her for so long, you’d believe her but she’s still withholding something from you. It is an incredibly good cover though, “I am not worried, I can take care of myself,” you offer in an attempt to ease her nerves, she’s lying but she’s still genuinely concerned for you, you believe that much.

She smiles appreciatively at you but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes, “Thank you,” she murmurs, taking a sip of her drink.

The visit isn’t long, she doesn’t linger like Kuai Liang does, she came to check on you, have a small chat and then she’s out the door. It’s something you value about her, not really being one to linger yourself. It’s not often she drops by on her own though, her solo visit has raised alarm bells in your mind.

You’re on edge for the rest of the day, leg bouncing anytime you try to sit still, too much anxious energy pent up inside you. You can’t focus enough to do anything though, nothing holding your attention long enough to forget about your situation. The day can’t go by slow enough, you want it to hurry up so you can see Tomas and talk to him, maybe he has answers, or will be able to offer you some comfort… wait, since when did you start seeking him for comfort?

˚₊‧⁺⋆༄

Frustratedly, Tomas did not come by last night like he had promised, you waited, even stayed up significantly longer than you usually do, only for him to neglect to visit. It’s not characteristic of him, not when he’s made it an active habit to see you every night for the past few months. For him to suddenly stop out of nowhere, it hurts if you’re honest. It hurts because it feels like he’s gotten what he wanted from you, like he’s lost interest suddenly after fucking you.

Though, it’s suspicious too, especially since Kuai Liang also neglected to come by, sending Harumi in his steed. The lack of communication here is annoying and there isn’t a damn thing you can do to fix it, having to just deal with it whether you want to or not. It’s not like you can ask anyone if they’ve seen Tomas and you certainly can’t ask Kuai, not when he doesn’t even visit.

You’re feeling a little aimless and still on edge, it feels like every muscle in your body is wound tight and like you’re ready to fight back against anything that could give you a mild fright. You can’t sit in your house all day again, you’re going to go stir crazy, you might start bouncing off the walls. Instead of rotting away in your house, you wander around the village, even visiting people you’ve not spoken to in months, not since Tomas’ original disappearance.

It's nice but by the time you’re done, there is a significant amount of day left and you’re still high strung. This is frustrating you to no end, so you choose to go for a walk, not particularly enjoying the thought of it, only hoping it will expend enough energy and that you’ll be too tired to continue to be anxious.

Walking is honestly, annoying, it feels pointless, you know it isn’t and that there are benefits, you just personally feel no benefits from it. You don’t experience the mental clarity; you experience mental irritability. Almost as soon as you start, you want to stop but you’re determined to waste your time, maybe if this irritates you enough, you’ll be too focused on being annoyed to remember everything else.

You can’t be sure how much time passes, but you sure are irritated, instead of forgetting things though, it’s just piling all together. Frustration reaching a new point, you want to scream and kick your legs and have a full-blown tantrum but you just keep going, keep moving forward. You… aren’t used to feeling this uncertain for this long, normally you know what the right thing to do is and maybe if you were being honest with yourself, you’d realise you already know what the right thing to do is but just because it’s the right thing… doesn’t mean it’s easy.  

When you finally turn around and head back home, you’re sufficiently tired by the time you walk through the front door. The first thing you do is head for the shower, washing the day away before collapsing onto the couch, it doesn’t take long for sleep to find you. It isn’t intentional but you also don’t really mind, happy that you’re finally exhausted enough to sleep at all.

˚₊‧⁺⋆༄

It’s been a couple more days now and you still haven’t heard from Tomas, at first it mostly hurt and was vaguely concerning, now it’s starting to just feel concerning. You’ve seen Kuai Liang once, he visited yesterday quickly, to check in on you but he seemed… similar to how Harumi was acting, like he knows something that he’s keeping from you. No one is saying anything to you, so you’re taking things into your own hands. Maybe visiting people again and talking to them will result in some kind of gossip, someone has to have seen something helpful.

Being nosey proves to be fruitful, people tell you little tidbits and what you’ve gathered is – Kuai Liang has seemed on edge the past few days, he has recently asked people if they’ve seen anything unusual, and has been searching the nearby land a lot more frequently. You don’t have to be a genius to figure out he’s had some kind of run in with Tomas, whether he actually made contact or only saw him, you have no way of knowing but you know he’s clearly had some kind of confirmation of his proximity to the village and he must have witnessed his presence himself for it to have affected him this much.

Knowing Kuai has seen Tomas is worrisome, you don’t think Kuai will hurt his brother, he believes he can be helped. It’s Tomas who might react more…violently, he’s not adverse to injuring people, he’s grievously hurt some people just to make a point. To completely dismiss the idea of him harming Kuai Liang would be foolish, though it seems Tomas is avoiding him at the moment so you can be thankful for that much, he’s not actively aiming to attack him. Small miracles or whatever, you just hope Tomas comes by soon… you’re worried about him, the hurt you felt has passed, especially since it seems like he’s been avoiding getting too close because of Kuai Liang, at least… that’s what you’re telling yourself, until proven wrong.

The sun has gone down by the time you get home, though it’s not quite late, you just spent a lot of the daylight in the village, you think you’re finding joy in talking with people again. That or you’ve been feeling lonely since you’ve been getting less visitors lately. Brushing off the thought, you commence your nightly routine of showering and cooking dinner for yourself.

It’s not until after dinner that you’re graced by Tomas’ presence, you’re washing up in the kitchen when you hear thumping as he stumbles into your house. It makes you jump, all the noise he makes as he clumsily enters your home.

“Tomas! What the hell? Where have you–” moving closer, you take in the state of him, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m all good,” he smiles at you, “How have you been?”

He looks really tired, “I’ve been…” you frown deeply as you remember how you’ve been, “I’ve been worried! What happened to you for the past few days?”

He looks guilty, well… as guilty as he can manage, “A lot happened, I–”

“–You slept with me and then disappeared for three whole days,” you cross your arms, still eyeing him carefully, concerned.

“Yes, I see how it may look like that,” he scratches the back of his neck.

Your eyes scrutinise him, “It doesn’t just look like that, that is objectively what happened.”

“From your perspective yes, but a lot… a lot happened, I didn’t mean to leave you hanging… I just couldn’t get close enough to see you again,” he sighs, dejectedly.

You cross your arms, sizing him up, “Well, now that you’re here, can you explain what has happened?”

“I can, I just need to sit down or something,” he rubs at his eyes.

There is something definitely wrong with him, he looks exhausted, you don’t think he could look any worse, “…Yeah, just… lay down on the couch, I’ll get some extra blankets.”

“I won’t need them,” he reminds.

You pause, “Maybe not for warmth but the comfort would be nice… right?”

He smiles at you softly, so slight that you wouldn’t notice if you didn’t watch him so closely, “Sure.” You know he’s lying for your sake, but you’ll get him the blankets anyways.

When you come back into the living room, Tomas has made himself comfortable on your couch, you go to give him the blankets and his hand brushes yours as he takes them. You aren’t sure if he’s going to use them or not, but he unfolds one and stretches it out over himself, he’s quite large under the small throw blanket, not that he seems to mind. He uses the other to prop his head up on the arm of the couch, he looks a little ridiculous actually, his feet don’t fit under the throw and his head does not look comfortable like that.

You frown at him but there’s an amused smile ghosting your lips, Tomas looks at you, “What?”

“You look ridiculous… you don’t have to use the blankets if you’re uncomfortable,” you move to sit in the armchair facing him.

He frowns, his tone defensive, “No, I will be using them.”

Lightly huffing an amused breath, you say, “Alright! I’m not stopping you…” You let him settle in some more before asking again, in a polite way, “…What happened, Tomas?”

His eyes flick to yours quickly before looking straight ahead, “I ran into Kuai Liang…after I left yours.

You stay silent, mostly because you’re thinking too many things to be able to pick which question you should ask first and you’re hoping he’ll offer that information on his own. But the silence persists, he just lays there, his eyes closing as he sinks further into your couch.

He must feel your increasingly aggravated staring though because he sighs, “We fought.”

The annoyance you’re feeling towards him increases tenfold, “Why are you withholding? Just tell me everything that happened–”

“–Why?” He glances over to you, smirk plastered on his face, “You worried about me? You care about me, about my safety?”

The urge to roll your eyes is strong but you worry that if you give into that urge now, they’ll permanently be placed at the back of your head by the time this conversation is finished, “More worried about what you may have done.”

He huffs at you, amused by your inability to admit you care for him, “Kuai Liang is fine, I had a feeling if anything happened to him you would get upset so I played defence, I didn’t even hurt him… that bad… I think.”

Your tone is flat, “Are you kidding?”

He blinks at you, “I don’t think so.”

When you saw Kuai he seemed fine, so you’re going to assume if he was hurt, it really wasn’t that bad but that doesn’t mean you’re elated by all of this. In fact, you’d say you’re pretty well on your way to being pissed off right about now, you can feel your eyebrow beginning to twitch.

“Okay, listen… before you get upset, just know I really did try my best to avoid a fight,” he moves to try and sit up but winces as he does, only making it about halfway up.

Frowning, you move over to him, kneeling on the floor, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, don’t worry about it,” his hand holds over his stomach as he continues to sit up, his legs still laying across the length of the couch.

You’re beginning to get exasperated, “Okay�� so, am I not worrying about it or are you fine?”

He pinches his brows, “Both.”

He’s frustrating you and he knows it, you tug at his clothes to try and see what may have happened, “Stop being annoying and–”

“–You know…if you wanted me to undress for you, all you had to do was ask,” he throws that smug smile your way and you feel like you might start vibrating with your irritation.

Tugging your hands back, you slump to the floor beside him, “Tomas please– just let me look at you…”

“Listen.” He waits for you to look him in the eyes again before continuing, “When I ran into Kuai we fought and I was focused on not hurting him… he nicked me is all, it really isn’t bad.”

You’re confused, “That was days ago… why aren’t you healed yet?”

He looks away from you, “It’s not important.”

Thinking on it, you realise it’s pretty clear why he’s not healing, “Tomas…”

“I’m fine,” he asserts.

You place your hand on his, “You could be finer though… I can help.”

His voice is firm, “No.”

He’s back to annoying you, “Why not?” You whinge slightly, hand tugging away in your irritation.

He sighs heavily, “You don’t know what you’re offering.”

You don’t appreciate his tone, “I’m fairly certain I do.”

He repeats his previous sentiments with a simple, “You don’t.”

You spell it out for him, to show him you do understand, “I’m offering to help you heal faster by letting you drink my blood, there isn’t much to not get–”

He’s growing frustrated with you now, “–You aren’t understanding the gravity of letting me do that.”

You understand his trepidations, but you want to help, “…Tomas–”

“–What if I can’t control myself? You are literally the last person I’d ever want to hurt…” He’s frowning to himself, agonising over the thought.

Reaching out, you go to touch him on his arm again, attempting to offer comfort but it only makes him tense in response, “I want to help and… I trust you.”

“You shouldn’t.” He looks you straight in your eyes, his brow set, tone serious, “You’re not understanding just how good you smell to me,” you have a feeling, that if he could manage it, he’d walk away from you.

His words effect you in a way they probably shouldn’t, at least not in this moment anyways, you push away the feelings swirling in your stomach and refocus, “Let me at least see how bad you’re hurt then.”

The hardness in his eyes softens and he nods, a good choice because you were not about to let this go. He moves to sit on the couch properly, no longer laying across it and you stand to help him undress his upper half. You try to be careful, but he still winces at some movements made, his discomfort more apparent now that he’s not trying to hide it from you. Once you’ve managed to get his layers off, you shuffle to sit beside him and look him over, he lets you get your eyeful.

It's honestly not as bad as you were picturing, still not great, if he were human you’d be running to get your first aid kit, but you know of a quicker and hassle-free way to have this fixed fairly soon.

He must feel how hard you’re thinking because he says, “I’m good, it’s fine.”

“Doesn’t look fine,” you quirk a single brow at him.

He keeps a straight face, “Well…” He looks down at his wound and then back at you, “It is.”

“I don’t want to keep going round like this, you’re being unnecessarily stubborn, let me help or I’ll…” You pause to think of a good threat.

He just smiles smugly at you, waiting for your threat patiently, nodding his head in encouragement.

“I’ll…” You look at him sternly, “I’ll never let you touch me again.”

“Well, that seems like an overreaction,” his expression is still overwhelmingly amused, not taking you seriously at all.

You huff out a sigh and slump slightly, “I just want to help.”

“I know you do,” his hand reaches out to cradle the side of your face, “But it’s not necessary.”

Leaning into his touch, you offer a different perspective, “If the roles were reversed and I was the one who was hurt, would you be so quick to give up your argument and not help?”

“I don’t think that’s the same,” he defends himself, badly.

You go to argue with him, but he predicts that move and instead kisses you, he’s gentle about it, kissing you sweetly for only a moment before pulling back. Frowning, you try to remember what you were going to say, “Tomas… seriously, just bite me.”

He hums at you, “No,” he murmurs, moving in to kiss you again.

You stop him, holding a finger to his lips, “I want you to bite me.”

“You into that sort of thing?” He speaks against your finger.

Choosing to fuck with him, you reply, “Yes.”

He groans at you, “You make everything difficult.”

You drop your finger, “Me!?” You’re shocked by his audacity to accuse you of being difficult when this conversation could’ve ended ages ago.

“Yes, you,” he grumbles out mildly annoyed, before pressing his lips onto yours again, this time less gentle about it all.

His kiss is deep and unapologetic, his tongue licks into your mouth, you moan at his forcefulness. The hand on your face tilts your head so he can have more access to you, his other hand gropes at the fat of your hip, wanting to tug you closer, he wants you in his lap.

Parting from him, you voice concern, “Tomas, I don’t think I should sit on you, right now.”

“I disagree, in fact I think you should always sit on me,” he tries to pull you onto him more.

You place your hands on his shoulders, “No, Tomas, seriously, I’m worried about hurting you–”

“–It’d be worth it,” he smiles but you frown at him, and he drops his smile, instead offering, “It’s fine, you’re not going to hurt me.”

You insist, “I don’t want to risk–”

He gets sick of this back and forth and cuts you off by moving you into his lap with ease, apparently his initial attempts were just for show. “I’m not made of glass,” he leans in close, his lips brushing your cheek, “I could still fuck you stupid.”

Deciding to spin this in your favour, you say, “If you want to do anything more than just kiss me, you’ll have to bite me.”

“I really don’t want to hurt you, dear,” his thumb brushes high on your cheekbone.

“This is my first, final, and only offer, if you want to… go any further tonight, you’ll have to drink from me,” you shrug, playing at indifference despite knowing he’s done an exceptional job at making you wet without trying very hard.

Dropping his hands to your thighs, he shuts his eyes and sighs, his head leaning onto the back of the couch.

Cruelly, you grind your cunt down into his pelvis, hoping to incite some kind of reaction, this is quickly changing from wanting to help heal him, to wanting him to bite you while plowing into you. His response is a deep groan and his fingers gripping your thighs harshly, his dick jerking underneath you.

He opens his eyes to look at you, “You’re not playing fairly.”

Quirking a brow at him, you ask, “Would you?”

“Of course not,” he smiles, leaning up again, “But you know… you’re giving away your intentions.”

You feign ignorance, “I’ve not a clue as to what you’re referring.”

“Keep going, keep rubbing your pretty, little cunt down into me and we’ll see who ends up more affected,” he hums, “But remember… I can smell you,” he moves his lips to the side of your ear, “And dear, you smell divine.”

You don’t move, mostly out of spite, he’s overly confident and there’s good reason for it but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t piss you off, just a little bit, “I’m not doing a single thing.”

His forehead drops to your shoulder and his hands rub up and down your thighs, a faint humming leaving him in thought. Turning his head to the side, he licks along the expanse of your neck, when he reaches your jaw, he presses a small kiss to it. Trailing his lips back to yours but you turn your head just before he can kiss your lips and he huffs a sigh in response.

“I can’t even kiss you now?” He questions.

You pout, looking away from him, “No.”

Sighing, he asks, “You want me to bite you this bad?”

Turning back to face him, you add, “Please?”

“Fuuck–” his brows pull together in thought for a moment, “Fine.” You go to celebrate your win, but he cuts you off, “But you need to tell me if it hurts, or if you’re dizzy or if you just don’t want me touching you anymore, okay?”

“Okay,” you smile at him.

He looks worried, like he’s still not sure if this is a good idea, “Alright, just… relax for me.”

“I am relaxed,” you reach out with both your hands and cradle his face, “You need to relax,” leaning in, you press a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling back and waiting for him to bite you.

He takes a breath, “Kiss me again?”

Moving your hands to his shoulders, you lean in again to kiss him, you mean for it to be quick, but he lightly grabs the side of your neck and pulls you closer, kissing you deeper. His lips are insistent and his free hand gropes at you. His sudden parting from you has a whimper leaving your lips but he’s already trailing his kisses from the corner of your mouth down your cheek, past your jaw, to your neck.

He doesn’t bite you, not straight away, he sucks and licks at your neck first, leaving gentle kisses in between. He nips lightly at your skin, and you stifle a moan at it, not wanting him to know just how aroused you’re getting from the thought of him biting you. The way his mouth quirks against you has you doubting that you’re hiding anything from him though. Thankfully, he doesn’t comment on it and instead presses a single peck to your neck.

Pulling back, he looks you in the eyes one last time, wanting to check that you’re absolutely okay with this. When he’s satisfied, he nuzzles into your neck, you move your head to the side, offering him more room. His teeth lightly graze your skin before slowly sinking into your skin, the pain shocks you but dulls as he lathes over the spot with his tongue, licking at your blood.

It’s a new feeling, the ache of his teeth in your skin, it’s making you hazy. Tomas moans into your skin both from the taste and because you’ve begun absentmindedly grinding down into his lap, seeking friction. When he pulls back, he moves to see your reaction, to make sure you’re still okay.

In all honesty, it doesn’t feel like he drank that much from you, “I thought you would take… more.”

“Mmm, I want to bite you elsewhere,” he moves in and continues to lick at the blood left behind.

Seemingly keeping true to his word, he shuffles to move you. He’s careful as he does, laying you down against the couch gently. Getting himself comfortable, he leans over you, a smile prominent on his lips. Your clothes are his next focus, his hands pulling at you. You want to help him but as you rise he places a hand on your chest and lightly pushes you back down.

Arching your back, you make it easier for him to take off your shirt, “Don’t overdo it.”

“Mhm,” he mumbles in mindless agreement, though he’s not really listening now, too busy looking at your tits.

“Tomas.”

His eyes flick to yours, “Sorry dear, what did you say?”

Squinting at him, you repeat, “I said, don’t overdo it.”

“I am fine,” he leans back to show you wear he had been injured, “Look, already healing better.”

It is, it’s still there and looks irritated but the minimal amount of blood he took from you seems to have helped a great deal. It’s less open and for that you’re thankful but it still has to be tender, “Just be careful.”

“Someone might mistake that for you caring about me,” he has a giddy look in his eyes.

Smiling at him, you say, sheepishly, “Well, I might not go that far.”

He hums at you with a slight smile on his face, not believing you. His hands move to your lower half, pulling off your bottoms, your underwear are tugged off along with them. He’s not wasting any time tonight, eager to have you naked underneath him.

Maybe if he were to give you a little time to think, you’d feel more embarrassed about how he’s stripped you bare and pulled your legs apart all within the span of a minute but he’s not giving you that time, he’s already shuffling himself in between your legs. Your legs which have been haphazardly thrown over his shoulders, you could’ve sworn you just told him to be careful.

He trails his lips along your inner thigh, his touch so gentle it makes a shiver run down your spine, “Can I still bite you?”

You feel fuzzy, his words not completely registering when his breath is tickling your inner thigh, “You can do whatever you like.”

A big grin breaks out across his face, you can feel it, you don’t get a chance to correct your statement or make a snarky remark though, he’s already sinking his teeth into the soft expanse of your thigh. You jump slightly but he holds you steady, growls leave him, clearly enjoying this immensely.

When he parts, he licks and sucks at your thigh, not letting your blood go to waste, “Still with me?”

You feel a little hazy still, but you don’t know if that’s from him biting you or the position he’s put you in, he’s so close to your pussy and you want so badly for him to just put his mouth on you–

“­–Hey,” his voice cuts off your thoughts and you look down to him, “Are you okay?”

“Mhm, yeah, I’m all good,” your head flops back onto the couch once you’ve answered him.

He sighs, “Mmm, is that so?” His thumbs move to your cunt and spread your lips apart so he can hungrily gaze at you on complete display, “You okay with me leaving you like this?...” His thumb runs through your slick heat, “…Or do you want me to do something to help?”

He places his thumb over your clit, not moving, just keeping steady pressure and it’s driving you insane. You want more, you need him to do more, he’s being purposefully cruel now, he wants it just as bad as you do. He also likes to hear how much you want him though and he’s not going to give you any sort of relief before you do.

On another day, maybe you hold out longer, tease him back, but today you’re all too happy to bend to his will, “Tomas…” His eyes shoot to yours, “I missed you.”

The look in his eyes lower and a huffed breath leaves him, “You play dirty.”

“I wasn’t trying to– ah,” you get cut off by his tongue licking at you, up the length of your cunt.

Genuinely, you were trying to give into him, but you seem to have said something that carried more weight than you expected it too. His tongue drags heavy on your pussy, flicking at your clit just to watch your thighs shake and body twitch. Unconsciously, your thighs go to close around his head, he moves he hands to keep them apart. He doesn’t stop there though, he pulls them open and up, almost folding you half.

His mouth doesn’t leave you, in fact, his tongue enters you, his nose presses into your clit, he’s trying to taste as much of you as he can. The wet slurping sounds he’s making are obscene, the room filled with how he laps at your cunt. He’s getting you close to finishing embarrassingly quickly but just when you think you could cum like this, he pulls his mouth back and bites into your other thigh.

Two of his fingers slip into your cunt just as his teeth puncture your skin, the simultaneous feelings are like a gut punch, you twitch and go to cover your mouth as his thumb reaches your clit and circles it harshly. A loud moan slips from you and is caught by your hands, the resulting sound a muffled cry. You cum around his fingers, your thighs shaking with it, Tomas moans into your skin, feeling your cunt pulse around his fingers and your blood coating his tongue, it has his control slipping.

Retracting his teeth and fingers from you at the same time, he slips the two fingers that were in you into your mouth. You take them, glassy eyes looking at him, your blood stains his mouth now, he was messier about his last bite. Slipping your tongue between his two fingers makes him shiver, the look in his eyes is dumb and sated.

When he pulls his fingers from you, he watches intently as they leave your mouth, he trails them, wet and slick down your chin, neck, sternum, all the way back down to your cunt. You gasp against the sensitive feeling, he pushes them inside you, crooking them up, his thumb already back on your clit.

“I really do love watching you cum,” he mumbles mindlessly. Going to say his name results in a pathetically moaned sound leaving you, it makes him smile deviously, “Trying to say something, dearest?”

You shake your head no at him, huffing out small sounds as his fingers pick up speed, his eyes never leave yours, intent on watching you the whole time, wanting to see every expression you make.

He leans down, free hand holding himself up, “Tell me again.” Your thoughts are garbled, and your eyes get lazy, unfocused, “Stay with me, I want to hear it again – how you missed me.”

You focus back on him, words slurring slightly, “Missed you so much, Tomas– hah.”

His fingers speed up again, his thumb harsh on your clit, you spasm around his fingers, your stomach pulling tight.

“I missed you too,” he smiles at you, his fangs showing through it.

Your back arches against the couch, “I– I was –mmphf– I was worried about you~”

Tomas curses at your confession, his head swimming with affection for you, he pulls his fingers from you suddenly and you whimper at the loss, “No– no, don’t be sad, I just can’t fucking wait any longer.”

The overwhelming need for you has overpowered him, he’s shucking his pants down his thighs carelessly. Pulling his cock out and immediately guiding it to your cunt, he slips the head of it through your folds a few times before slowly entering you. He’s trying to take his time and be gentle, he really is but he’s so suddenly desperate to be balls deep he can’t seem to find the patience to open you up for him more.

He makes it easier for you though, his thumb rubbing circles over your clit. It’s completely unexpected when you cum on the first few inches of his cock like this, a bitten back moan leaving you as shudders run through you. He had gotten you so close before retracting his fingers, the fullness now and way he was playing with you had your forgotten orgasm being not so forgotten.

“Tomas– it’s –ah–” You can’t even get out what you want to say, though you’re not entirely sure what you wanted to say. Cumming on his dick makes you go cross eyed, your hips moving to grind up into him, wanting so badly to be stuffed full as you orgasm.

He grunts out, “Fuck–” before taking advantage of your gushing pussy and slips balls deep, a loud and deep moan leaving him, “So incredibly slick, my dear,” he grinds down into you, his pelvis digging into your clit, he’s trying to give you a moment to breathe but he desires friction. “You never cease to amaze me, so incredibly perfect… responsive.”

Ironically, your cunt twitches at his words and a devilish smirk makes an appearance on his face, as if to gloat about his previously accurate statement, “I don’t know… if I can handle another,” your eyes are wet and unthinking when you look up at him.

“You can handle another,” he groans, dragging his cock out at the same time as he speaks, “Been so good to me tonight, I’m just returning the favour.”

He slams back into you, a high-pitched whine leaving you, matched against his low one, “I jus wanted to help –mmph–”

“And help you did, so incredibly helpful,” his words are coming quickly as he starts thrusting into you more consistently, “Taste absolutely divine, dear. Few moments there –ngh– I was scared of hurting you, you’re such an overwhelming presence in all facets of my life.”

Lewd and wet slapping sounds follow each of his thrusts, his hips fucking into you at a speed that makes your head spin. You’re not really capable of responding to him anymore, you’re as good as gone. His cock hits so deep inside you, he tickles your cervix, a thrilling kind of pain following each of his deep thrusts.

“You wanna know something?” He leans in, getting impossibly closer, deeper.

He’s waiting for your response, “Yeah– hah– mmph~”

He engulfs your mouth in a deep kiss, his tongue in your mouth before you can really register that he’s kissed you. He’s heated and rushed; kissing you in such a needy way that you can’t even keep up with him. When he pulls back a string of saliva connects the both of your mouths, he licks his lower lip, disconnecting it.

“I could smell how fucking wet you were getting each time I bit you,” he huffs breathlessly into your ear, “Fresh arousal drenching your cunt every time my teeth sunk into you, do you know how hard it is to focus on not taking much blood from you when you’re getting horny from it?”

“S–sorry,” you apologise but your pussy clenches down on him, his words working you up.

“No, don’t apologise, dear. You did nothing wrong, nothing.” He traces wet and sloppy kisses down the side of your face and neck, “I just meant to say, I think you would cum awful hard if I were to bite you at the same time, don’t you?”

Before you can comprehend the conclusion he’s given you, his hips switch from slamming into you, to grinding when he re-enters, the added stimulation makes you stupid, slurred words of praise and his name leaving you. Just as you’re about to climax, he bites into your neck, he doesn’t drink from you this time, he just sinks his teeth into your flesh. The pain rockets through you and you finish all over his cock, fresh, creamy, cum leaving you and leaking down his dick, a white ring left at the base of it.

The sound he makes is feral and not human, deep animalistic groans leaving him at the way you squeeze his dick so tight. He forces his way through all the sensations he’s feeling, fucking into your tight, spasming cunt, the slick of you making it easier. You’re so fucked open on him that he’s getting dizzy thinking about it, about how well you take his fat cock.

Raising his upper half, he looks down to where he’s fucking you, at the mess you’ve made, at the bite marks on your thighs, it’s all driving him wild. There’s very clear evidence of him being here and it’s sending pleasure down his spine to his core.

His dick jerks and twitches and as he looks at your face, at the gooey look in your eyes, at the unshed tears sitting in your waterline, he cums. It forces its way through him, the sensation almost making him spiral, he’s already cumming when he remembers what he wanted to do.

Pulling out, he aims the rest of his cum at your cunt and thighs, wanting to leave evidence of him all over you. He almost whimpers at the sight of your pussy leaking and being coated in him. Absently, he takes his hand and places it in his spend, smearing it up your stomach and grabbing your tit, leaving evidence of it there too.

You gasp at how he grabs at your breast, his slick forefinger and thumb tweaking your nipple, “Tomas–” You moan out to him.

His eyes shoot to yours and he looks sheepish, “Sorry…I got carried away.”

Mumbling lazily, you ask, “Are you okay?”

He bites a laugh at your question, “Are you kidding? I feel fantastic.” He moves in and presses a soft kiss to your cheek, “How do you feel? Are you okay?”

“I’m okay…tired,” you wrap your arms around him, pulling him down into you for a hug.

He breathes in the scent of you, committing it to memory, “You should sleep, I’ll carry you to bed–”

You object, cutting him off, “–No… you’ll be gone when I wake up, I really did miss you…”

He can’t hide the way your words make him glow with joy, “How about, we shower and see how you feel?”

“Mmmkay, you’re gonna need to do all the work though…” He’s already picking you up off the couch halfway through your sentence, “…Don’t think I can walk.”

“Wasn’t expecting you to,” he chuckles, carrying you off down the hallway.

˚₊‧⁺⋆༄

IT IS DONE !!!!!! MWUAHAHA!!! i hope you enjoyed it :3

[oneofstarkskids]

learn a thing or two

genre: flufffff

pairings: WLW, fury!reader x carol danvers

summary: carol has tried everything to get you to realize she's flirting. when nothing seems to click, she starts to wonder if she's falling for an idiot.

*not my gif*

carol was walking down the halls of SHIELD, smirking at the gasps and whispers she would hear. "oh my god, she's here!" "i've never seen her in person." "isn't that-"

she took the elevator to the floor that held fury's office. to be perfectly honest, she didn't need to be here- on earth- anymore. surely there were other places in the galaxy that required her attention and specific skill set, but she had been distracted as of late.

and there it was once again. that pretty little distraction standing in the center of fury's office holding a stack of files. her eyes trailed up your body. the pantsuit you had on was nice, but carol couldn't help wondering what it would look like on the floor.

"fury," she nods as she enters the room. you turn around at the sound of her voice. she looks like the personification of sunlight. dammit. focus.

nick responds, "carol. surprised to see you still here."

she never takes her eyes off of you, "actually, i was talking to this one." you raise a brow ever so slightly in surprise. your father just frowns.

carol let's a playful smirk dance across her lips, and you quickly turn back towards your father. "if that's all, then i will take these down to central and have someone organize them."

you're walking down the hall for only a few moments before the tall blonde appears beside you. "need any help with that?" she offers flirtatiously.

you don't seem to pick up her tone and shake your head, "that's alright. it's just files, but thanks."

her brows knit together, "okay well...maybe after work we can go for drinks."

you think it over for a moment, "can't. i have an early takeoff tomorrow. romanoff and i are busting some drug traffickers in peru. we've had surveillance on them for months now and they're finally letting their guard down."

carol laughed, "you could learn a thing or two from them."

"what do you mean?" you asked, completely oblivious.

she scanned your face for any sign of sarcasm. you were painfully serious. could you really not tell that she was hitting on you? carol didn't know how to make it any more obvious. "nevermind."

"you know...you better get back quick because i'm only going to be here for a couple more days," and when you didn't say much in reply she stopped walking.

you turned to see why she had stopped so abruptly. she had this exasperated look on her face. "is everything okay?" you asked.

carol's frown only deepened, "jesus, fury, what's it gonna take for you to notice a girl?"

"fury's my dad-" you corrected her.

she ignored you. it wasn't her fault you shared a last name with the man.

"i've been dropping hints all day. actually, screw that, all week!" she said in frustration. she was starting to wonder if you didn't like her back, but she'd seen the way you looked at her. she knew gay when she saw gay.

the only other explanation was that you were just plain stupid. "i don't know what you're-" you started.

carol couldn't bear to listen to that pretty little mouth say one more thing. she slowly made her way towards you, "let me put it simply."

"i've stayed on this planet longer than i have in a while. i spend every second that i'm at SHIELD trying to get your attention and i'm practically begging you to go on a date with me. how can you not see that?" she asked.

you looked somewhat confused and even a bit terrified.

"i thought you just saw me as fury's daughter," you said.

carol shook her head and reached up towards your chin, "i don't think about fury. i think about you."

her eyes fell down to your lips.

you'd had feelings for her before, but it always felt like she was off limits. carol just seemed emotionally unavailable in some ways, but then again...some could say the same about you.

but standing here with her looking at you like she'd set the world on fire just to touch your skin, it made your whole body light up.

you could feel electricity surging through you, but all you could focus on were her lips. it didn't even seem to matter that you were at work and anyone could be watching.

carol didn't move. she wanted you to put in the effort and you were more than willing. you leaned in quickly and suddenly all the built up tension was set free.

her hands found your waist and pulled you even closer.

"uh ehm," someone cleared their throat. you pulled away, flushed, to find your father standing a few feet away.

and despite the discomfort in his face and awkward energy that filled the air, you couldn't help but be grateful that he interrupted the kiss.

otherwise, you weren't entirely sure you'd be able to stop.

[nelkcats]

Dad War

Danny Fenton became a father and he's not panicking at all (this is a lie)

Danny should have known that asking for an uneventful week was an exaggeration. He tempted fate by saying that "nothing bad could happen now that ghosts and humans lived in peace with each other"

Of course, it was right after saying that sentence that his daughter cousin appeared in front of him with her arm melted. Having gotten used to that particular scenario he steered her into his ecto-dejecto reserves, both of them panicked when this didn't solve anything.

With no more options, Danny took her to Far Frozen, surely the Yeti would have a better idea of what was happening to the girl.

Frostbite examined Ellie just like the first time but instead of scowling like Danny had expected he looked extremely pleased, almost satisfied.

"The time has finally come" Frostbite told him happily "you must let it happen, Great One"

"Do I have to let Ellie melt down!?" Danny yelled in concern, he never thought the Yeti had a sadistic streak in him. Ellie looked just as shaken by the information.

"Not like you're thinking" The Yeti noticed his mistake and decided to explain himself "she's not melting, she's stabilizing"

"If I'm stabilizing, why is my arm goo?" Ellie groaned, the sensation of melting never failed to be strange.

"That explanation is much simpler" Frostbite smiled "how old are you, little Phantom?"

"Uh" Ellie tried to assign herself an age, she aged much slower than the other halfas "16?"

"You didn't understand the question, I didn't mean how you look" Frostbite denied affectionately "how old do you consider yourself?"

“…5” Ellie muttered in embarrassment, even if her age was a bit older than that number, she felt much younger, like a child. She didn't count her early years, between Vlad and traveling the world she hadn't begun to think about it.

Even with all the knowledge stored in her head, she wanted to experience a childhood like other children, to make friends. Something that her adolescent appearance did not allow. As much as Ellie loved talking to Val, she was one of her only friends and unlike her, Val had a whole life to live.

"There is your explanation" The yeti pointed out "ghosts take the appearance of how they see themselves, your core takes into account your wishes and therefore you are reforming into a child"

Danny remembered when he first shifted into his ghost form and Frostbite explanation made sense, but his head reminded him of a very important detail.

"Wouldn't that be troublesome? A lot of people in Amity know you as my cousin” Danny pointed out worriedly. The secret of the halfas was still closely guarded.

"Well, there is a way to leave her appearance the same as it currently is, but that's up to her" Frostbite looked at the girl waiting for an answer.

"No" Ellie denied "I want it to happen, I also...I also want to have a childhood, like the others"

Ellie had always felt bitter about being the only halfa exploring the concept of death more than life; unlike Vlad and Danny who had lived fairly normal lives before their respective accidents, she had been robbed of the possibility.

She wanted to live too.

"It's settled then," Frostbite nodded "Now, this is just getting started and someone has to look after your core while you reform. Do you have any candidates in mind?"

"Danny, can you?" Ellie asked, taking the sleeve of his suit, she wouldn't have considered asking anyone else. Even if she didn't admit it, Ellie always saw him as her father.

"You don't even have to ask, I'll be here when you get back" Danny ruffled her hair with a smile.

"Thank you, dad" Ellie closed her eyes as she let herself be carried away by the sensation of her core. It was a little strange that what she thought would kill her was fulfilling her dreams.

Before the halfa could reply to the comment, Ellie melted, and the ectoplasm was quickly absorbed into her core.

Danny looked at the green stone in his hands with concern.

"How long do you think it will take her?" he asked the Yeti.

"A couple of hours" Frostbite sat down next to him "it's hard being a new parent isn't it? I still remember when my children were born"

Danny avoided mentioning that he had no idea about his children. He wondered if he had them in life or death.

"I- Ellie is my cousin," Danny tried to tell him, but his argument sounded weak.

"She doesn't seem to see you as such" The Yeti shrugged as he handed the boy a cup of tea, but the halfa refused to take it as long as he held the stone in his hands.

Frostbite snorted while setting the mug aside, a new parent, in fact.

"Uh, looks like it's time for me to leave my parents house, don't you think?" Danny tried to joke, even Jazz had her own house in another place.

He had temporarily tried it when he was balancing his college life with his spooky duties, living with Sam and Tucker was fun but in the end he came home.

"It seems so" The Yeti shrugged "congratulations, it's a girl"

Danny laughed as he held the stone closer to his chest. He had really become a father, hadn't he?

His core purred at the thought, while an invisible thread connected the two half-ghosts.

Being a parent didn't sound bad. Maybe it wasn't even as hard as people made it out to be.

───────────────

Danny regrets that last thought, he regrets it so much.

He just had to think that, didn't he?

As usual, he called Jazz to inform her of the day's events as he held the stone to his chest (Frostbite had told him it was safe to do so).

Jazz didn't seem too surprised by the news, on the contrary, she started recommending him books on parenting, so many books.

Danny tried to tell her that Ellie probably wouldn't be a difficult child, he got a 30-minute lecture on how she'd probably regress to the mental age of 5 or 6, and therefore he had to be prepared for it.

Deciding to listen to his older sister, Danny googled for advice.

Checking on wikihow how to take care of a child didn't work, Danny could attest to that.

The halfa sighed as he looked at the "I'll bring you some books tomorrow" message that Jazz had send him. Did he really have to read?

It couldn't be that hard, right? His parents took care of Jazz and she ended well!

Danny was ignoring Sam's voice in his head saying that "Jazz is the spiders georg of children and should not be counted"

Of course, Danny was also avoiding to look at the fact that his parents also took care of him and he kinda died. Ellie was already half dead so he couldn't fucked up that part.

He put his phone aside as he stared at the stone on his chest. It had been hours, was Ellie okay? Perhaps something had gone wrong?

He frowned wondering if he should call Frostbite when he noticed the glowing core. Before he knew it he had a 5-year-old girl crushing his stomach.

"Ouch," Danny groaned in pain "fatherhood hurts"

"Daddy! Daddy!" Ellie jumped on his stomach, she didn't seem to notice the change in title "Look! Look! Do you like my new look?"

Realizing that Jazz was right, Danny pretended to think for a few minutes, Ellie looked bummed out at his lack of response.

"Of course I love it!" Danny scooped her up into his arms as she giggled "you look perfect!"

Ellie chuckled as she ran off to Danny's room where she had kept his phone before the whole mess.

"I'll be back soon! I have to tell Val!" The girl ran off, probably forgetting that she could go through the ceiling and get to the room faster.

Danny gave her a thumbs up, as soon as Ellie disappeared down the stairs he lay back on the couch rubbing his stomach. His daughter had strength.

"We're definitely moving" he muttered, closing his eyes. Not in a million years would a girl with that much energy go unnoticed.

Danny checked his phone again and saw messages from Sam and Tucker. The halfa pouted, Jazz was a gossip.

───────────────

"Are you sure you have everything?" Tucker asked, checking a list on his PDA. No matter how many years passed, he still loved his technology and refused to throw it away.

"Definitely sure" Danny yawned as he loaded the boxes onto the GAV. Ellie was asleep in the passenger seat.

"Papers?" Tucker checked the list.

"Legal and illegal" Danny held up a folder "Thanks for that, by the way"

"You're welcome man" Tucker shrugged. He had created Ellie's papers a while back, but they had never been needed. Adapting the age was a surprise.

"Food? Money? Clothes?" Tucker recited the list, to Danny's nod he continued, "materials to put together the new portal?"

"Ready" Danny pointed to the box that said "danger", there were also the ectoplasm samples.

"I still think that's a stupid idea" Sam rolled her eyes "that thing killed you"

"Yes, but we need ectoplasm on a regular basis and well, building one was the easiest way to get it" the halfa shrugged. It still made him shudder to think about the accident but the portal was necessary "Besides, portals don't measure distance in the Realms, I can build one that's only a few feet from home"

Also, having Far Frozen close to them was always an advantage and the ghosts had promised not to invade the new town without his permission. He still couldn't believe he was moving to New Jersey.

"That's the only reason I'm letting you get away with it," Jazz snorted as she bent down to kiss her brother's forehead "Remember, we're just a phone call away"

"I know, I know, you don't need to move out as well" Danny shook his head amused, he felt that if he didn't stop them they would really try to " I never thought I would have to move"

"It's been so long since the accident" Sam remembered as she placed a hand on her hip "even though it seems like yesterday"

"It feels like it happened yesterday" Danny admitted while touching the scar on his hand. The memories of the electrocution were still fresh in his mind.

"By the way dude, are you sure to leave Vlad as her biological father?" Tucker winced at the document, he could see the reason but he didn't like it.

"Of course, that idiot must pay me child support" Danny smiled "eat the rich and all that"

Having an excuse to spend Vlad's money was always fun. And if his stupid biological sex could help that, he would use it. Danny was honestly relieved that his legal documents had been changed. He wondered if Vlad knew the real reason why he was never able to create a male clone.

"You could just ask us for money" Sam patted his shoulder "Tucker and I could support your poor ass"

Both had been very successful in their respective fields. Sam had graduated in law and was getting another degree as an Environment Protection Technician, she had changed a lot in a short time. On the other side, Tucker had created his own Technology & Security company, he was currently negotiating a deal with Wayne Enterprises.

Danny had a feeling that his friend wanted to use him to close a deal and had suggested the city as an option for that reason. Bludhaven wasn't far from Gotham after all.

"Just because I'm unemployed doesn't mean I'm poor" Danny pouted "I'll get a job in the new town before you know it"

"I hope so, your savings aren't going to stretch that long" Jazz sighed. Her brother's lack of planning never ceased to be worrisome "Oh, and don't forget to take off your blinder, you need to breathe"

Danny frowned at the comment but nodded. His ghost form was more comfortable because it suited his chosen gender, he wondered if he could change the human as well.

"Okay, I guess that's it" Tucker put the PDA away  "remember not to drive like either of your parents, we don't want you to get a ticket so quickly"

"Nor that the weather news announces when you're going out" Sam smirked, she remembered when Lance Thunder started announcing when Jazz and Danny were learning to drive.

"That's impossible, you know I'm an excellent driver and therefore I'm not going to get a ticker" Danny stuck out his tongue at his best friend.

"Whatever you say Danny" Sam snorted "call us when you get there, and have a safe trip!"

His friends and sister said goodbye to him as he got on the GAV. He started driving away from home. It wasn't long before he passed the "Welcome to Amity Park" sign. The little ghost drawings around it made him smile.

Still, Danny was offended by the skepticism of his friends, he was sure that he was not going to get a ticket anytime soon.

───────────────

An officer was giving him a ticket.

Danny banged his head against the steering wheel of the vehicle as the police officer asked him the routine questions.

"Does this vehicle have a license?" The officer raised an eyebrow. Danny sighed as he handed over the GAV papers, he had licensed all of his parents' inventions long ago "Okay- wait, is this a SUV?"

"No, it's a GAV" Danny growled without further explanation, he was still annoyed by the situation. Clockwork was laughing at him from his damned tower, he was sure "Do you need anything else, officer...Grayson?"

Officer Grayson looked at the vehicle with doubt, the damn thing had more modifications than the Batmobile, he really hoped the boy wasn't some future villain.

He had so many questions to ask.

Before Dick could question him further or Danny risked murder on his first day in town, Ellie woke up from her nap.

"Daddy?" Ellie yawned looking at the driver's seat curiously "Are we there yet?"

All the halfa's anger melted away and his attitude took a complete turn.

"No honey, we got pulled over for speeding but we're in town now" Danny leaned down to brush her hair out of her face "you can go back to sleep"

"You're a bad driver" his daughter smirked, she wondered if driving skills were hereditary.

"Are you new in town?" Dick leaned in curiously, the girl reminded him of his own daughter.

Danny was about to tell him it was none of his business but Ellie answered first.

"¡Yes! We're moving" Ellie smiled "That's why we brought all the boxes, I'm going to enroll in a new school and dad is going to get a job"

"That sounds wonderful" Dick smiled softly as he handed Danny the ticket along with the GAV's papers "You should be more careful on the streets, I don't think there is anywhere that accepts 120 km/hr as a normal speed"

The halfa frowned, didn't the officer have a heart!? At least he could forgive a new neighbor for a silly mistake!

"Yeah, yeah, thanks" he murmured as he put the ticket in the glove compartment.

"Well, all seems to be in order" Dick straightened up "you can follow your way, enjoy Bludhaven!"

Danny hoped that he would never see him again.

When he arrived at his new house, the halfa carried Ellie to the couch and let her sleep, after which he began to unload the things from the GAV.

He wondered if he should start unpacking everything or just sleep. He felt tired at the thought of opening all those boxes and fell asleep on the couch with his daughter.

When he woke up it was night, Danny peeked out of the window as he heard a motorcycle park next door. Perhaps he could see his neighbors?

He gaped at the sight of fucking Officer Grayson reaching down to grab a little girl and carry her into his arms.

Wasn't it enough to be physically perfect and heartless, but he also had to be a good father? Damn everything!

It had to be a fucking joke

X

[callsign-rogueone]

alone with you - l.m.

Liam Mairi x reader part two of Liam and Spark's story. words: 3.0k 🏷: Fourth Wing spoilers (spark knows things that Violet doesn't lmao), sparring and a tiny bit of blood, reader gets injured but not to worry, someone takes care of you. no pronouns used for reader but Liam does call you a girl. Tuile being a bitch (wbk) and perhaps some answers about what happened in spark's first year at basgiath... I'm still not good at writing fight scenes, sorry lol

Another year, another round of challenges. Another opportunity to show the entire quadrant that you’re not here to fuck around, nor to make friends.

You loosen your muscles as Emeterrio discusses the rules of engagement, cracking your neck and stretching out your arms, taking mental inventory of all the weapons on your body -- even though it’s frowned upon to use them in these fights, you keep the array of knives at the ready.

“I see the general’s girl has survived the week,” Tuile muses. “I’m almost impressed.”

You cast a glance across the room, seeing her standing next to the cadet who was in front of her in line for Parapet, the one she’d traded boots with.

“It’s only a matter of time,” you mutter back. 

Even though Xaden had convinced the two dozen of you to leave her alone, it’s likely that somebody else is going to see how fragile she is and walk right up and snap her in two, to thin the herd -- not that she has a real chance of making it to threshing anyway, not without some divine intervention.

But she’s a perfect little Navarrian citizen, so she must pray to their gods every night before bed. Maybe they’ll help her, because you sure as hell won’t; you have a reputation to maintain, and there’s no rational explanation you could give her for why you would want to help her at all, not without jeopardizing the entire revolution -- she might not take after her traitorous older brother, who as far as she and everyone else in this death trap of a college is aware, is dead.

She seems to notice you watching her, locking eyes with you for a split second and quickly averting her gaze. She’s afraid of you and all of your friends, unaware that your respect for Brennan is what’s keeping her alive right now.

Fear is a requirement for survival here. Maybe she’ll make it longer than you’d thought.

It’s not a surprise to you at all that your name is called first, nor that you’re matched with the largest cadet in the class. It became clear to you last year that the professors aren’t making these assignments randomly. It couldn’t be a coincidence that they keep pairing you with the best fighters -- but never with another marked one, even though you’re all at the top of the class.

No, they’re probably entertained by all of this, betting on you like racehorses or wild dogs, placing wagers on who would come out on top. If anyone’s putting money on you, you’ve made them a killing -- you’re undefeated. 

But that would require someone else to bet against you, and while you may not respect all of the professors and leadership, or any of them, really, you don’t think they’re dumb enough to throw their money away like that.

“We meet again,” he says with a sick grin that makes the scar below his eye stretch and contort.

You don’t respond, taking one last survey of the seven blades on your body, but you’re not dumb enough to touch them, lest he see where they are and try to take them himself, like he did earlier this year.

He’d wrapped his fingers around the wooden hilt of the blade that Liam had given you before you left for Basgiath, intent on putting it through your heart, and you’d seen red.

“You should have taken his eye out.”

“I gave him that scar as a warning,” you reply evenly. “It’s up to him if he’s going to heed it or not.”

You’re at it as soon as Emeterrio says go, taking turns lunging at each other and blocking attacks.

You’re evenly matched, despite the size he has on you. He may be stronger, more intimidating, but you’re faster, and you know what you’re doing. You know where to hit and when, your strikes much more precise than his.

Still, Liam’s heart races.

It was one thing watching you mess around with Bodhi in the courtyard, but it’s another thing entirely seeing you fight as if your life depends on it -- and it does. There’s a very real possibility that one of you is going to be spending the evening in the infirmary, or the morgue, after this ends. 

You fight like Xaden, like himself and Bodhi and Imogen and everyone else his brother had a hand in training, but with an edge he’s never seen from you before.

He hesitates to put a name to it, but there’s something in your eyes akin to a wild animal’s as the pair of you stalk circles around each other, planning your next attack.

“It’s not polite to play with your food,” Tuile chides.

Fine. You’ll finish this, if only so she’ll shut up and leave you alone.

The other cadet has the same idea. 

You charge at the same time as he hurls a dagger in your direction, and you hit the ground at the last second to avoid being skewered. You start to press up to your feet, but he stomps a boot into your back, pain ripping down your spine. You swallow a scream, digging your nails into the sticky foam beneath you.

The mental wall separating you from Tuile crumbles, that familiar white-hot anger flowing through you. “Do something.”

You unsheath a dagger, reaching up and swiping it across his calf, and he hisses in pain, releasing you and taking a stumbling step back.

It’s easy enough for you to knock him off balance, landing three consecutive blows to his ribs and a swift kick to his stomach that sends him to the floor.

You’re tired of this already. It’s lost its novelty, and you really need to sit down -- there’s black spots clouding your vision, and the pain in your back has gotten impossibly worse.

“Do I have to kill you in front of the kids, or do you yield?” 

“I yield,” he rasps, still clutching his leg.

You lean down, wiping each side of the blade on his shirt before you sheath it.

“Sloppy, but satisfactory,” Tuile comments — that’s high praise from her. Maybe she’ll give you the evening off from her snide remarks.

You slot yourself between Liam and Bodhi, leaning against the wall as casually as you can; every movement has pain spreading across your lower back and shooting down your spine. 

You try to focus on rebuilding the wall she’d knocked down, brick by brick, taking deep breaths and forcing the anger out of your body.

Liam reaches for you, looking worried.

You speak under your breath, not moving your lips. “Not here. Not in front of everyone.” 

He pulls back without protest, understanding why you don’t want him helping you where the rest of the quadrant can see you, don’t want them to see the look of concern on his face and his hand on your arm and identify him as your weakness.

You may very well be the most hated person in the quadrant, being marked, bonded to one of Navarre’s nastiest dragons, and unafraid to draw blood in challenges. There are several cadets in this room who wouldn’t hesitate to go after Liam if they thought it would hurt you -- and it would. 

You don’t care what they do to you, what pain they inflict or what scars they leave on your body, but if anyone so much as touches Liam, they’ll lose the use of their hands. 

You breathe through the pain and keep your eyes on the fights unfolding in front of you; making note of who favors what side of their body, who gets sloppy after more than a minute, who yields because they don’t have the stomach to take things further.

Most of the cadets think this is the one class you don’t have to study for, but they’d be wrong -- there’s a reason you always come out on top, and this is it.

The class ends without Liam’s name being called, which is a relief, even though you don’t doubt his skill on the mat — it’s off the mat that you’re worried about. 

Almost everyone heads straight to dinner, but Liam hangs back, getting your attention with a barely-there touch to your elbow. You look over at him, and he nods in the other direction, toward the dorms. 

Of course he’s going to insist on checking your injuries himself, as he always did in the years you trained with him and Xaden. He doesn’t seem to think anything has changed between you in the year you’ve been away.

Sooner or later, he’ll realize he’s wrong.

You wait for nearly everyone to be out of the gym before you leave, leading him up to the second floor in silence and unlocking your door with a wave of your hand, gesturing him inside -- thankfully there’s nobody in the hallway to see you.

You haven’t been alone with him in a full year. A year and two weeks, if you want to be precise. The day you’d said goodbye, and nothing else.

You busy yourself with digging through your desk drawer to find the nearly-empty tin of healing balm, handing it to him before you turn away, gritting your teeth as you pull the shirt up over your head. 

If you weren’t pouring every ounce of energy you have left into keeping yourself upright, you might have it in you to be embarrassed about the amount of skin you’re exposing to him, the history of your first year at Basgiath on full display. But it’s Liam. Liam isn’t going to judge you, isn’t going to pry; he’ll just keep giving you that soft, concerned look -- which is somehow almost worse.

There’s a moment of quiet as he takes it in; the dark blue, nearly-black silhouette of Tuile that spans your shoulder blades and continues down your back, disappearing into the layers of thick linen wrapped over your chest, the full extent of your rebellion relic, winding down your arm to your wrist… 

Then he sees it, the nasty bruise starting to form on your back, below the hem of your bindings. The other cadet had hit you square in the spine, a blow that could very well have been paralyzing had it been delivered at a slightly different angle with slightly more force. That’s probably what he’d intended.

Liam isn’t particularly religious -- none of you are, which was a major reason why your parents had wanted to secede from Navarre -- but he still sends up a silent thank you to the powers that be that you’re okay, standing in front of him mostly unharmed.

You grit your teeth, keeping your eyes shut and gripping the shirt tightly as Liam’s hand rubs over your back, working in the healing balm. 

There’s something about the feeling of his skin on yours that is more uncomfortable than the aching bruise or any of the other injuries you’d sustained in that fight. 

You can handle the brush of your hands, a touch through layers of clothing and armor, eye contact and whispered words and smiles — all things that are acceptable behavior between friends — but the tenderness of this whole thing is overwhelming; being alone with Liam in your room, his bookbag on the floor, standing behind you rubbing a hand over your back, the other on your waist to hold you steady because you’re fucking trembling.

Maybe you are a little embarrassed after all.

The skin feels warm and tingly, a sign that whatever healing herbs within the sticky paste are working, soothing the aching muscle. Your entire body feels warm. It’s unbearably hot in this room, but Liam doesn’t seem to mind, still dressed in his flight jacket and full uniform. 

He moves his attention from your back to your side, murmuring a soft apology when you startle at the feeling of his hand smoothing over your ribs.

You take a breath, letting him work more of the balm into the spot where the other cadet’s fist had landed.

He finally pulls back, letting his hand linger on your waist until he’s convinced you won’t fall over. “Anything else hurting?” he asks gently.

“My head,” you admit to the wall. “But that never goes away.”

You pull the shirt back on as quickly as you can, done feeling exposed, and fight to maintain an unaffected expression as you turn back to face him.

He looks at you for a few seconds before it dawns on him -- the persistent headache, the flatness of your skin and your constantly racing heart, the way you’re bracing yourself with a hand on the desk, how tired you look and feel… “Spark, when was the last time you had water? Or anything to drink at all?”

Liam has always been too observant for his own good. 

You take a moment to think about it, another definite indicator that something is wrong. “Yesterday,” you answer quietly. “At dinner.” 

His eyes widen almost imperceptibly. It’s been a full twenty-four hours -- you’re supposed to be at dinner right now. It’s a miracle that you hadn’t passed out on the mat this afternoon.

He doesn’t scold you, doesn’t tell you how bad that is; he just squeezes your hand gently, taking the water bottle out of his bag and uncapping it. He can see you hesitating, knows something is wrong --  it takes a lot to rattle you, but you’re looking at the thing like it’s going to bite you.

“Three sips?” he asks softly.

That seems doable.

You take the bottle from him, holding it for a moment, feeling the weight of the metal and the energy flowing through the water inside it. It’s clean, calm, not murky and angry like the river water that Carr had made you practice with last year, but that doesn’t matter; in your hands, it’s the most dangerous substance on the planet.

And as fate would have it, it’s necessary for your survival.

You’re just grateful Tuile is off doing gods-know-what and not making her usual smug commentary -- she’d left after you’d won that challenge match, but she’ll be back soon enough. 

You raise it to your lips and drink, wanting to get it over with. The water is cool and crisp, breathing life back into your mouth and soothing your throat as you swallow, your body singing in relief as you give it what it’s been deprived of for months now. 

You take a moment to breathe, comforted by the air that continues to flow into your lungs and back out. Liam is standing in front of you. You’re okay. Two more. You can do this.

You bring it back up for another sip. You hadn’t realized how much you needed this, how much better it would make you feel. You take the next one in quick succession — that’s three. You’re done. 

You hate to admit it, but you feel better already.

Liam is still watching you with that soft, worried expression, though it’s less severe now than it had been earlier. You can see the gears turning, knowing he’s wondering why this was such a big deal for you; but there’s no judgment there, just genuine concern for your well-being.

You decide to tell him the truth, or part of it.

“I almost drowned when I channeled for the first time,” you say quietly, gazing back down at the half-empty bottle. “It was fucking terrifying. I couldn’t shower alone for a week. I needed one of the girls to come into the bathroom with me and face the wall, just talking to me the whole time. Then we realized Bo can counter signets. He’s been helping me control it, but…”

So that’s what Xaden had meant when he said that Bodhi was helping you deal with things. He wonders if there’s anything else his brother hadn’t told him, anything you aren’t telling him, but he won’t demand an answer from you -- he knows how difficult it must have been for you to tell him what you did, and he won’t push you further.

He takes the bottle back and caps it, gathering you into his arms silently, the way he’d wanted to back in the gym. He’s careful not to put any pressure on the injury, keeping his hands well above the bruise -- one between your shoulder blades and one on your ribs, on the side that you hadn’t been hit.

You rest your head on his shoulder, speaking in a whisper. “Thank you, Li.”

His lips brush over your hairline, where the ache is the worst. “Of course, sweet girl.”

You don’t want to let go of him yet, but you’ve already been holding each other longer than is appropriate for friends -- and that’s all you are, for the time being. 

He finally pulls away, and you could nearly cry at the loss of contact. 

“I need a minute,” you manage. “You should head down.”

You’re reminded again of why you love him so much as he nods in understanding, shouldering his bag and giving you a soft smile before he heads out your door.

All good things must come to an end. 

“Sweet? He must not know you at all.” 

“He knows me better than you ever will,” you snap back. 

At least she waited for him to leave, for you to be done with the water, or you would have some serious explaining to do.

You build up the wall again before she replies, and though it isn’t strong enough to block her out completely, she doesn’t push against it or knock it down -- she must not feel like getting into a pissing match with you right now. 

Good. You don’t either.

You notice he left the bottle on your desk. You manage another three sips before you finally head down to dinner, where you slide into the open seat beside Liam, silently pushing the empty bottle toward him. 

“I’m proud of you,” he whispers, not wanting to draw any attention from the group around you, who are all immersed in hearty conversation.

You haven’t heard those words from anyone in a long time. They mean more to you than he could ever imagine.

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Hi,

I just wanted to say that I love your stories. I have had a Hannibal idea rumoring in my mind for some time now and decided to share it.(maybe you can make a one-shot out of it). The reader from our world is a big fan of the show Hannibal and one day wakes up in it (at first without realizing it.After finding a corpse, she somewhat recognises the person, but can‘t quite place it.After she called the police abd the FBI arrives she soon realises where she is. (idk any further, sorry if it‘s really bad)

Could there be a love triangle of some sort between Hannibal,the reader and Will?

Hannibal X Will X Reader: In another life

a/n: not sure if this was what you were thinking but i hope you enjoy it.

Warnings: death, blood, injurys, attempted murder, being captured, hospitals, crime, fluff, female reader, no use of y/n, not proofread.

Word count: 2,2 K

You could smell a sort of coppery scent. Your head was hurting in a way it never had before. Still you managed to force your eyes to open up. You were laying on your back in what felt like grass. The smell was a bit overwhelming but you couldn’t quite tell where it was coming from. You lifted your body up slowly, resting on your elbows for a moment. It was dark but you could still make out your surroundings. You had no idea where you were. And you had no memory of what had gotten you here. You turn your head to the side and that's when you see it.

A body.

You let out a scream, quickly rising to your feet and taking a step back. The dead eyes of the body stare up at you. You realize that the scent you’d smelt was blood. Your hands moved around your body in search of your phone. Even though you had no idea what was going on you knew you needed to call this in. Your hands shake as you dial 911. 

“911 what's your emergency?”

“I’m in the middle of nowhere and there's a body. I don”t know how i got here and i don’t know who this person is i-”

“Okay I need you to calm down. Are there any street signs nearby?”

You look around desperately searching for something to help the dispatcher find where you were. Your eyes fell on the sign a couple of steps away from where you were. You couldn’t read it very well.

“Yeah there’s a sign. I’m gonna go closer. It's so dark.”

“It's going to be okay, just read it to me.”

You squint your eyes, trying to make the words clearer. 

“Wolf Trap. I’m in virginia.”

The sound of the operator's voice dulled a bit as you tried to understand what was going on. How the hell were you in virginia? You didn’t live anywhere near Virginia and you’d never thought of visiting it. The only reason you even knew about Wolf trap was because of…Hannibal. But there was no way.

Or was there?

You finished talking to the 911 operator who had told you she was sending cops to your location. You sat near the edge of the road and waited. You don’t know how much time passed but soon you were surrounded by police. They led you to an ambulance and placed a blanket over your body. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Well nothing other than the fact you were here.

And then they appeared. 

You were staring at the ground beneath you, your hands fiddling with each other. You heard someone call out your name, causing you to raise your head. Your eyes widened as you watched Jack Crawford walk over to you. And trailing behind him was none other than Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham.

You had to have been dreaming. That was the only logical explanation. You closed your eyes, pinching your arm. When you opened them back up again nothing had changed. You were still sitting in an ambulance staring at the characters from your favorite show. Jack called out your name against causing you to pull yourself together.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah sorry. I guess I'm still in shock.”

“It’s natural to feel that way after seeing a body.”

Hannibal's voice filled your ears as he spoke and you couldn't help but notice he sounded exactly like he did on television. 

“This is-

“Hannibal Lecter.”

Jack looked over at Hannibal in curiosity.

“And that's Will Graham.”

Will’s eyebrows furrowed at your words.

“You two know her?”

“No they don’t. But I know them.”

You paused for a moment, realizing you didn’t know what part of the series you were in.

“I mean I've read about them.”

“You really shouldn't believe what Freddy Lounds writes.”

You turned to look at will, observing the way he avoided your gaze. 

“She’ll do whatever she can for attention.”

You don’t know how you knew but something told you he was talking about Abigail. 

“Don’t worry. I don’t believe everything I see on the internet. My heart goes out to Abigail Hobbs.”

It was a shot in the dark but what did you have to lose? From the way Hannibal and Will looked at each other you could tell you’d said the right thing. 

“Let's focus shall we. What can you tell us about the victim.”

“Just that he’s a male. And that he is dead.”

“Well that we could figure out ourselves.”

You almost smiled at the sarcastic tone Jack talked in. They were just like you remembered them. 

“I woke up next to him. I remember my head was pounding so I'm guessing someone hit me with something and I became unconscious. But that's about all I can tell you.”

“Okay. Hannibal stay with her. Will you come with me.”

You watched Will walk away with Jack. You assumed Will was about to place himself into the killer's mind and as much as you wanted to watch him in action you knew better than to ask such a thing. You turned your attention back to Hannibal. He was looking over at where Will and Jack had walked over to.

“You can go with them. I’m okay.”

Hannibal gave you a gentle smile. The action made your stomach swoop. Damn your attraction to the cannibal. He moved over sitting next to you. 

“You shouldn’t be alone. This must have been a very traumatizing experience for you.”

“I just wish I knew what happened.”

You stopped talking for a moment, realizing something for the first time. What if you were the killer? Hannibal seemed to sense your uneasiness, his voice calling out your name. You turned to face him, a tear running down your cheek.

“What if I did it? What if I killed him.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t you. And if it was, I'm sure there was a reason.”

“Self defense.”

“Most likely. But don’t dwell on it. Will is going to figure it out. And I'm going to help him find who is responsible.”

You stared up at Hannibal. Everything seemed to rush into you all at once and before you knew it you were crying. Hannibal pulled you into his embrace, his arms moving over you back to soothe you.

“Shh it will be alright.”

After the officers went through their usual questions and forensics collected the evidence Jack told you you were okay to go home. The only issue was you had no idea where that was. You googled your name and were surprised to see your phone number and address pop up. You told one of the officers where they could drop you off. Will overheard you talking to the cop and realized your house was on his way home.

“I can take her.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah it's not a problem.”

Will turned to face you.

“Unless you don��t want me too.”

“No, it's perfect. Thanks for offering.”

Will gave you a small nod, beginning to walk towards his car. You trailed after him. Once you got in the car Will turned the engine on and reversed onto the road. You stayed silent for most of the ride, eyes moving over the trees outside your window. 

“It’s not you.”

Your head snapped to look at Will. His eyes were glued to the road ahead, his demeanor calm.

“Sorry what?”

“You’re not the killer.”

“How did you-”

“Hannibal told me you were scared it was you.”

“Well if it wasn’t me who was it?”

“That's what I'm gonna find out.”

For the next few weeks you helped with the investigation. You’d drive over to the FBI and try your best to give them as much information as you could. And you’d go over to Hannibal's office so he could try to help you remember what had happened to you. Being around Hannibal and Will almost daily made it easy for the three of you to grow closer. You’d go shopping for food with Hannibal and you’d take Wills dogs out for walks whenever you could. You found out that your “character” owned a small coffee shop and that was where you got your income from. Whenever you were free you’d spend your time in your coffee shop. You’d chat to the locals and from time to time Will would show up to talk to you. 

One day you were walking back to your coffee shop from the FBI when you started to feel like you were being followed. You grabbed your keys from your pocket speeding up your pace to reach the coffee shop quicker. You’d placed the key on the door when you felt something knock against your head. Before you knew it you’d fallen to the ground. You struggled to keep your eyes open. You let out a breath, your lips moving to call out Wills and Hannibal's name. 

Then everything went black.

Will had gone over to your coffee shop. He was planning on checking up on you. The moment he got to the front door and saw the key stuck in the keyhole he knew something was wrong. And then he looked down and saw the blood on the floor. He pulled his phone out, dialing Hannibal's number. Before the phone had even begun to ring, Will was racing back to the FBI. 

You opened your eyes slowly. You could feel a chair behind you. You moved to rub your eyes, only when you tried to move your arms you realized they were tied. Panic started to settle in. You moved to open your mouth but there was a piece of tape over it. Your eyes searched around the room, trying to figure out where you were and if anyone was with you. The room was empty except for the chair you were sitting in. You tried to move around but your legs were bound to the legs of the chair. In your attempt to move you've managed to tilt the chair and before you knew it you were crashing onto the floor. Your head hit the floor and you went unconscious again.

Will kicked in the door, his gun pointing into the room. His eyes fell on you immediately. He rushed inside being followed by Hannibal. Your eyes were closed but he could tell you were still breathing. Hannibal moved to tug the tape of your mouth as Will began to work on freeing you from the ropes. Jack walked into the room, his eyes falling on Hannibal and Will. 

“Shit. Is she alive?”

“Yes but there is a wound on her head.”

“Take her to the hospital.”

Hannibal turned to look at Will.

“What are you gonna do?”

“Find the person who did this.”

Your finger twitched  against the bed sheets. You groaned, opening your eyes slightly. A blinding light filled your eyes, causing you to shut them a bit. From the smell you could tell you were in a hospital room. You blinked a bit allowing yourself to become used to the light. You could feel a bit of weight on your hand causing you to look at it. Your eyes found Will's hand. He was sitting on a chair next to your bed, his hand grasped around yours as he slept. You continued to look around the room. On the opposite side of your bed you found Hannibal's frame. He too was slumped against his chair, his head resting on the edge of your bed as his hand gripped onto your wrist. They were clinging onto you to make sure you weren’t going anywhere. You smiled and let out a breath realizing that you were safe.

You shifted in your bed trying to get into a more comfortable position. Will's eyes opened as he felt you shift against him. His gaze found you, his free hand coming up to rub his eye. 

“You’re up.”

You turned to look at Will taking in his sleepy state. He looked awfully cute like this. 

“Sorry I didn't mean to wake you up.”

“You should have.”

Your head snapped at the sound of Hannibal's voice turning to look at him. He looked a bit more put together than Will but you could tell he was tired too. 

“What are you guys doing here?”

“Making sure you were okay.”

“I’m sure the doctors here are more than capable of doing that. No offense.”

The room was silent for a moment.

“We caught him.”

You looked at Will. 

“The killer?”

“Yeah. They arrested him a couple hours ago.”

“That’s good.”

“We should have been quicker.”

“Well you caught him didn’t you?”

“Not before he hurt you.”

You could tell Will was beating himself up. You shifted moving to place your hand on his cheek. He raised his head to look at you. You gave him a small smile.

“I’m okay Will. You saved me.”

You turned to look at Hannibal, wrapping your hand around his.

“You both did.”

You had no idea how you'd gotten here. But sitting in that hospital bed, holding onto Will and Hannibal you couldn’t think of anywhere else you’d rather be.

[pregnant-piggy]

hey I want wondering if you could do a harry j potter x reader oneshot when the are dating for a few months (takes place in ootp or hbp I don’t really mind which) and reader is still not completely comfortable with cuddling and that kind of stuff with harry cause she just isn’t used to physical contact and one day when harry wants to cuddle with her in the evening she stiffens or flinches and harry is extremely worried (yk him and his adorable overreacting) cause he doesn’t know if she has any trauma or something and you can make the rest up just make it extremely fluffy (only if you want to do it tho I just think it’d be very cute <3)

hi love, so while my requests are technically not open, you were lucky there weren't many requests from my celebration so i did write this :) and it wouldn't be a blurb from me if it wasn't 1.3k words (i swear i'm not doing it on purpose)

Flinch

The fire spit out sparks near your feet as you poured over your Divination homework. You were halfway but it was becoming harder and harder to come up with solutions and explanations of your dreams and with every minute that passed your concentration grew smaller. Not that there had been much to begin with when you'd started, but whether you liked it or not, the deadline was approaching fast.

Just as you'd finished describing your dream of last Thursday—something to do with unruly black hair and glasses—you got interrupted. Someone dropped to the couch behind where you were sitting on the floor and let out a loud sigh. Then in the corner of your eye you saw a flash of red hair darting to the last empty chair on your side, followed by a "How gentleman-like of you, Ron".

Hermione sat down next to you on the floor and glanced at your parchment. "I feel sad for you."

"You should," you said, dropping your quill and massaging your forehead with your fingers. "It's a wreck."

"Wait a minute." Ron perked up from his slouch in the armchair. "Why did you not feel sorry for me when I complained about it today?"

Hermione shook her head. "Because you don't even try, Ron! You predicted you'd be caught by a mob of horses and be forced to turn into a centaur."

"So?" Ron shrugged. "That's just what my dream meant."

"Be careful," you said to Ron. "Or soon you'll dream it's a mob of Hermiones chasing you."

Ron shivered as if that was the worst nightmare anyone could have and behind you Harry barked a laugh. You looked back at your boyfriend and smiled. The dating thing was still new and you were trying to find your way with it, but you were glad to have made him laugh.

"Hush now," you said, waving a hand towards Ron. "I want to finish this."

You did get silence but only for five minutes or so before Ron started to talk about the upcoming quidditch game against Ravenclaw. You, who had been busy coming up with a dream for Friday—maybe Ron's technique wasn't all that bad after all—got pulled from your focus. You tried for ten more minutes, but eventually had to admit that you were doing more bad than good and would have to correct everything you wrote tomorrow so you gave up  You threw your quill down and rested back against the bottom of the sofa, right next to Harry's legs.

Without turning away from his conversation, he laid his hand atop your head and started massaging it.

You froze, heart skipping a beat and pumping twice as fast after. Every muscle in your body grew rigid, frozen, and you carefully moved away, pretending to grab something of the table, but in fact trying to get away as unnoticeable as possible.

No one noticed. Harry's hand fell back but he said nothing nor did he move closer again. With a pounding heart you stared at your Divination paper, pretending you were fixing a mistake.

It wasn't Harry's fault. Really not. You'd never been good with physical contact but you also never thought it a real problem till you got together with Harry. Now each time he wrapped an arm around you or reached for your hand, you froze, panicked, feared. You weren't even sure why.

You also didn't know if Harry had noticed. He had never said anything about it and whenever it happened and you pulled away he seemed not to notice it. But you knew it wasn't fair to him and you did try to do better. Just yesterday he had taken your hand and without too much panic you'd held onto it for the entire walk.

It was a slow process and many times you were on the verge of telling him about it, but you were scared.

After a few minutes of calming down, you got up and sat next to Harry on the sofa, leaving enough space so you weren't touching but no one would think anything of it.

Ron was animatedly telling a story about Flitwick who had fallen off his chair and Harry turned to you.

"You alright?" he asked softly.

"Hm? Yeah, I'm fine." You bit your lip and Harry's gaze flicked down but back up quickly.

"Are you sure?" he went on. "You seem a bit off."

"No, all's good. Don't worry." You shrugged. "Just tired."

"Okay." Harry's mouth split into a smile. "'Cause you'd tell me if something was wrong right?"

"Of course." You tried a smile and apparently it was convincing enough for him to drop the subject.

"It's not that funny, Ron," Hermione said, tearing your focus from Harry. She shook her head while Ron wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

Next to you, Harry smiled lazily. "It kinda was. He made the funniest noise ever." He proceeded to make some high-pitched noise that had Ron roaring with laughter in his chair until he fell off.

"Serves you right," Hermione mumbled, but there was a smile on her face.

You laughed and sunk a little more into the sofa. So much that you almost didn't see what happened next to you. Almost.

Harry stretched out his arm to lay it over your shoulders and before you could stop it, you flinched.

And this time there was no mistaking it. He noticed.

"What-?" he stuttered.

Your eyes were wide, your body frozen in shock. You hadn't meant for it to happen, didn't even know it would happen. You'd been on edge all day, tired, overworked, but you never figured it would end up like this.

And unfortunately not only Harry noticed.

"Ron," Hermione said. "Ron, come on. I want to talk to you."

Ron looked up from where he hadn't even bothered get up from the floor. "Why?"

"Just something." Hermione's eyes flicked to your frozen body and Harry's face that you were too afraid to look at. "Quickly. Come on, Ron."

"Alright, fine. But I don't see what could possibly be so important."

"Just come!"

Hermione quickly left, Ron following after her reluctantly. You were glad she'd given you some privacy, but you didn't want to see the undoubtedly hurt look on Harry's face.

"y/n?" Harry didn't reach out for you and somehow that hurt. "Can you look at me?"

You took a deep breath and looked up. You had expected pain, anger, disappointment, but instead there was only worry and confusion. Harry's eyes were full of concern and that gave you the slightest of hope. He didn't hate you.

"What happened?" he asked softly.

"I'm trying really hard, Harry. It's just... physical contact and touch and everything---it doesn't come easy to me. I don't know why; it's just always been so for me." You looked down at your hands in your lap. "And I want to change that. I do. But it takes time."

Harry was silent for a long time and you didn't look at him. You'd understand if he didn't want to see you any longer, if he wanted to break things off. You'd hate that, of course, but you'd understand.

"We have time."

"What?"

You lifted your gaze to his face. He was watching you with a smile.

"You said it takes time. We have time. All the time in the world if we need."

"You mean that," you realised.

"I do. I don't want to lose you over something like this. We'll find our way with it. I promise."

A watery laugh fell from your lips. You nodded, more relieved than words could describe. He didn't hate you, not at all. Your fears had been ungrounded.

"Thank you," you said. And very carefully, you placed your hand atop Harry's one. Nerves spiked in your chest, but you pushed them down. "It's not that I hate you touching me. It's just a bit more difficult."

Harry turned his hand over and held yours. He was careful, soft.

"That's alright," he said. "I'm still yours."

- - - - - - -

hp taglist: @kingalrdy @missswriter @awritingtree @ananad1 @secretsthathauntus @izzyyy-1 @nyotamalfoy @xxinvisiblexx @idli-dosa @lacunaanonymoused @kitkatkl @d22malfoys

[fishfooddude]

Family Ties

I love that the fandom sees Carmy as a girl dad who practices gentle parenting. Gentle parenting is a great parenting style, don't get me wrong. Personally, I can see him butting heads with his teenage daughter like he wants her to express herself- but he also knows that teenage boys are weird and would want to protect her at all costs. This was just a thought I had a couple of days ago, and once I started, I couldn't stop. More Dad!Carmy content to come...

A/N: I didn't realize until I copy pasted this from my Google Drive. This was 6 freakin pages. I like longer fics, I'm sorry.

The Bear MasterList

Directory

Carmy was furious. It took a lot of effort for him to ‘gentle parent’ with you when the kids, Grace and Oliver, were little. Now that both kids are in high school, he wishes he had been harder on them. You reassure him that the two of you have great kids, both work hard in school, participate in extracurricular activities, and aren’t afraid to talk to them about anything - he insisted he should have been harder on them, especially when he gets calls from the school about Oliver getting suspended… again. 

Oliver was 15, and Carmy was convinced he was Mikey's reincarnation. Like you had, he did well in school, but he was Mikey in every other aspect of life. He just needed to get his head out of his ass before out-of-school suspension became stints in jail. 

As Carmy walked down the hall to the principal’s office, he saw Oliver sitting on a bench talking to Grace- Grace, his little girl, granted she wasn’t as little anymore. She’s 17 and looked exactly like you when you were her age- except she had gotten his eyes. “Oliver.” Carmy barked, getting his attention. 

Grace looked at her brother nervously. Carmy wasn’t the kind of Dad to ‘approve’ of her clothing, but he’d fight her on it occasionally, especially regarding crop tops and dresses. It came from a place of caring and not wanting his little girl to get hurt, but Carmy could take it too far.

 Carmy noticed Grace turning the opposite way to get away from the Berzatto boys,

“Grace? Shouldn’t you be in class or somethin’?” Carmy questioned; she stopped in her tracks, knowing Carmy wasn’t in the best mood. She turned around and hoped he was too mad, Oliver, to notice the cropped corset she’d worn to school that day. It’s not like she’d worn it to get a guy to notice her; she’d just liked the contrast of its light green color with her baggy jeans, and she was supposed to match outfits with the rest of the dance team that day so he couldn’t be mad at it- especially since he’d encouraged her to join the dance team freshman year. “Someone texted me that Oli was out here- just wanted to make sure no one beat my baby brother’s ass.” she laughed. Carmy shot her his classic ‘I’m your father, I know when you’re lying look’ but shook his head; he was not ready to deal with that. “Put on a sweater.” Grace nodded at Carmy’s casual dislike of her top, “Yes, sir.”

Initially, Carmy was going to let it slide. He knew Grace was 17, she was going to college next year, and he wouldn’t be able to encourage her to make the right decision anymore, but while she was under his roof, she’d live by his rules. You laughed when he brought it up to you that night in bed. “Carmy, she’s a good kid. Gracie has good grades. She has good friends. She works; if she wants to wear a crop top, she can wear a crop top.” Carmy sighed. He saw the point you’d been trying to make with that explanation but wasn’t happy.

Grace hoped Carmy wouldn’t bring up her wardrobe, but unfortunately, she was wrong. Carmy had hired an older brother of one of Grace’s friends at The Bear- that’s how he’d found out about Grace’s non-family Instagram account. She hadn’t posted anything too scandalous; there were some pictures from parties where she was holding a red Solo cup, a few from a dance competition after-party where she’d been wearing something Carmy wouldn’t have allowed her to leave the house in, and of course the soft launch of her relationship. He was seething; you hadn’t known about the account either- you’d heard Grace talk to her cousins about a boy she liked, but the drinking and parties also surprised you. 

“Carmy, you neeeeed to be careful with how you speak to Grace about this,” you emphasized through the phone. Of course, this would come up when you were out of town. “Baby, I’ll handle it.” “Carmen Anthony Berzatto. Do not, I repeat, do not shame our daughter. You can tell her you’re unhappy-” “I’ll handle it.” he hung up, and you knew you’d be walking into a shit storm when you returned home.

“Fuck off, Dad!” Grace screamed as she slammed her bedroom door. To say Carmy mishandled the situation would be an understatement; he stood outside Grace’s door, immediately regretting what he’d said about Grace. He questioned her character; he knew she was a good kid; he wanted to knock on her door and apologize, but Grace didn’t want to hear it.

Oliver sat in his bedroom and heard Carmy and Grace yell at each other throughout the weekend. He laughed when he realized Carmy double-downed on what he’d initially said about Grace ‘not being that kind of girl.’ and how people would ‘never take her seriously’ when he dropped the word ‘whore’ he knew there would be hell when you came home. The front door slammed, and he heard Carmy yell ‘fuck’ and slam a door. He looked out his bedroom window to see Grace running up the street. Oliver sighed and fished his phone out of his pocket; “Oli fuck off.” Grace huffed before immediately hanging up on him. He rolled his eyes and dialed your number. “Hi baby, everything okay?” “Nope.”

The house was antagonistic. Carmy was pissed at himself, you and Grace were also pissed at him, and Oliver managed to sink into the background. The family dinners you’d shared were typically full of conversation and life, but tonight was awkwardly silent. Oliver decided he’d take a crack at making it better, “Uncle Richie got to 100 Instagram followers. He’s pretty excited about it.” no one took the bait. He poked at the chicken on his plate, “Good dinner, am I right?” he grinned, looking around the table. Grace rolled her eyes and stood up from the table, “Grace?” you called after her. She ignored your question and went upstairs. “Well, I think it’s a good dinner- conversation wasn’t the best, but… we’ll get through it.” Oliver tried to lighten the tension in the room, but he inevitably failed, and Carmy told him to go to his room. Oliver obliged, taking his and Grace’s plates to the sink before shuffling upstairs. He walked past Grace’s room on the way. He paused and stood before the door; it was too quiet. He knocked softly before opening the door; she was gone.

“I just don’t know what to say to him. I’m pissed.” Grace vented as she lay beside Eva in the park by her apartment, “My dad was the same way, except he threw my clothes away. My mom ripped him a new one over it.” “Should I accept his apology and move out as soon as possible?” Eva shook her head and laughed at the suggestion. “Gracie, you know what you need to do.” Grace sighed, knowing her cousin was right. She sat up and pushed her hair back. “I’m gonna hide out at Danny’s house. Cover for me?” “Of course. Don’t get pregnant.” 

“Gracie girl? Can I come in, honey?” you asked outside her door, but there was no response. “Baby, please?” you asked again. “She’s not home,” Oliver said, walking past you to the bathroom. “What do you mean she’s not home?” he shrugged. “I guess she snuck out after dinner.”. You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration before walking into your and Carmy’s bedroom, “You have to fix this, Carmen.” you scolded in your best mom voice he’d heard a thousand times, granted it was typically directed at one of the kids. “Baby, how can-” “Carmen. If you ever want to be inside me again, you’ll fix this.” Carmy leaned back against the headboard; he didn’t think something like this could be fixed. 

“Oh, hi, Grace.” Danny’s mom greeted her when she realized she was sitting on the couch with Danny. “Hi, Mrs. De Luca.” she smiled back, “How are you, sweetheart?” Grace shrugged at the question, “Been better.” “Oh, I’m sorry, Grace,” she frowned before turning her attention to her son “Danny. I need you to take Annie to school tomorrow morning, okay? I’m doin’ an overnight.” Danny nodded in acknowledgment. She smiled again and quickly ran out of the house, leaving Danny and Grace in the living room and Danny’s sister Annie upstairs, tucked into bed. 

“So. What’s goin on with you?” Danny finally asked. He wasn’t mad that she’d come over unannounced, but it was obvious that Grace had been crying. Grace shrugged at the question, “Guess I just wanted to see you.” Danny scoffed. “Grace. Com’ on. You only come over on weeknights when you’re upset.” “Do not.” Grace challenged, leaning into his side. “I will tickle it out of you, baby. You should just tell me what’s up.” he insisted, sitting up slightly. Grace groaned and sat up, bringing her knees to her chest. She told him that she and Carmy were fighting about her ‘secret online life that everyone can see’ and how ‘she’s not that kind of girl,’ so why was she pretending to be? She was hesitant to include the part where Carmy had called her a whore, but as she looked at Danny’s sympathetic face, she couldn’t hold back. “The house is awkward- Oli tried to make a joke out of it, but it was just so fuckin’ annoying. I’m just disappointed in myself… he’s never mad at me, Danny.” Danny nodded. “I get that. What me to beat him up for callin’ you a whore? You know I will.” Grace rolled her eyes. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Carmy sat outside on the porch smoking when he saw headlights coming in his direction; it was almost 2 in the morning. He sighed and took a final puff before ashing his cigarette. He assumed it was Grace, and he was correct. He heard her say her goodbyes to whoever dropped her off and waited for her to come up the driveway. “Hi, Grace.” he greeted, his lips pulling into a tight line due to their growing awkwardness. “Dad,” she responded, crossing her arms over her stomach. “Where were you?” “With Eva.” Carmy nodded. “Can I talk to you?” Grace shrugged and moved closer to Carmy. “I want to apologize, Gracie. I shouldn’t have said that about you. You have a good head on those shoulders- but I don’t want you to get hurt. Girls who posted stuff like that online when I was 17… you know what happened. Rumors and shit- I just don’t want people doin' that to you.” he explained, scratching at the back of his neck. Grace nodded, taking in what he’d said. “I understand, but I’m not a little girl anymore, Dad. I can handle myself; if I can’t, Danny has my back.” Carmy nodded, “We good?” he asked, looking down at Grace. He smiled when he saw her pulling her sleeves over her hands like when she was a little girl and felt uneasy. “We’re good.” Grace agreed. Carmy brought her into a lazy hug and kissed the top of her head. “I love you, always.” Grace smiled and hugged Carmy back, “I love you too, Dad.”

As the two went inside, Carmy remembered something she’d said, “Who’s Danny?” Grace stopped and looked up at Carmy cautiously. “Uh… he’s my- my boyfriend…”

[silverstar-8]

Lucifer's Headcanons!

I decided to write some headcanons for Luci. There will be sfw as well as nsfw ones! I'll might create more, but for now there will be only one part.

Also, I think you could say Lucifer x Reader, because I'm talking about "you" while describing some of his interactions. But most of the time, I think about my self-insert. Just letting you know!

SFW (Some random, but also romantic ones. They are NOT in the order):

Of course, he loves making his little ducks in his workshop, but he can create other things too! I have a feeling that he would make toys for Charlie and also jewellery. He is really creative with them.

He moved in to the hotel and the apple tower is his. I know it's more like prediction for a future season, but it isn't 100% confirmed, so still counts as a headcanon.

He is autistic. Yes, I know he has depression, but for me he is depressed autistic.

If he is around someone he loves (romantically) his tail shows up. It might even wag! Really fast!

And also, his tail would totally hug his lover's leg. And he wouldn't even notice.

He is a little bit more social than he was before. He's still struggling, but visiting more Charlie and helping her with a lot of stuff is still a big step!

When he's sad and alone, he is hugging himself with his wings. He's in wings' town. It's his way to comfort himself.

About wings, he can also do this if his loved one feel sad. He will literally hug with arms and wings. Really comfy.

Also, his feathers are really, REALLY soft. Great for petting. (He loves when someone is petting them)

If you feel sad, he would probably hum a melody or even literally sing for you. As well as playing an instrument, because why not. He can do all of this.

When he was alone, he talked with his clones. They are connected to his thought, so the conversations were interesting. He still sometimes talks with them, but most of the time he's using them for helping him with stuff, like makeup.

He likes to jump in the pile of rubber ducks. It is comforting for him.

He's pansexual. I don't have an explanation for this, I just feel he's so fruity XD

He has dark gray arms AND legs.

He has also hooves.

He is that short, because he actually like this height. He was like that since he was created and it would be really weird for him to change height.

But also! He loves to be carried!

And carry others!

NSFW below! (Time to be more wild, hehe)

First, I want to share my personal favourite nsfw headcanon I created. I've seen that most people assume that he has a dick. And of course, it's valid! Everyone can have their own headcanons, but I decided to think more about his design and what he is. So, he is an angel. Fallen, but still an angel. And he looks like a doll. What I mean to say is that he isn't human. He might look like one, but he doesn't even have ears or nose. So after this analysis, I've thought to give him... nothing! Yes! He is like a doll! He has nothing down here. No dick, no anus, none. BUT, remember everyone that he is a shapeshifter! He can adjust! So even if he doesn't have anything down here, he can create anything he or his partner wants. Dick? Sure! Pussy? Of course! Both? Why not?! Maybe something more crazy, like tentacles? We can go wild as fuck! I love inhuman characters like Lucifer, because you can actually create something really crazy like that! And it makes sense! I mean, think about it! Why angels would need anything down here? It just makes sense that they don't have anything here!

So, as I said, he can create anything he wants, but what is happening with him when he doesn't have anything? I've thought about this too! So, when he doesn't have reproductive organs, few spots on his body are becoming more sensitive when he's horny. They are: Hands, hooves, tail, around his horns, few spots on his wings. If you massage those places, he can have orgasm. It is a little different experience than what we, human can achieve, but it's as intense, if not even more sometimes, as our orgasm.

About horns... if you pull them during sex, he can come just from this. But you have to do this strong! Don't worry, you won't hurt him.

He fucked with his clones for sure. He is the fucking sin of Pride, of course he had to have fun time with himself. But it is kinda like advanced masturbation, because he controls them.

But it also means, that with a partner, he could use his clones, so you could have a literal gangbang with just Lucifer.

He prefers folks with pussies. It is just his personal favourite, but he wouldn't mind if his loved one had different thing! He would eat you anyway.

He is a total switch. He is the literal definition of this. He feels comfortable in being sub, dom, top and bottom.

As a power bottom, he is a little shit, because he is challenging your dominance. He loves it.

I can imagine that in dominant role, he would be really caring or more aggressive, depending what you wanted.

He talks a lot during sex. He would say a lot of dirty things with his deep voice.

He can growl when he is close to the climax.

He has totally a kink that is connected to him being a king.

And also daddy kink. I can totally imagine that he would have this.

His demonic side might appear during sex. He thinks that it's too scary, but if he sees that you like it, he will show it more.

For now it's all! Those are my headcanons, so I hope you had fun reading them!

See ya! ~ Silver

[grayhyacinth]

Random Act of Kindness Day

Hello! It's been O-O Like six years since I last posted a work? A lot has happened during my long hiatus (writers block). But, I hope that this is a fun, new beginning.

Disclaimer: This work is with an assumption that Dipper and Mabel are older, but is still set in the current timeline of Gravity Falls (if that makes sense).

Links: ao3, tumblr, masterlist

The warm sunlight filters in through the cracks of the blinds, shining down onto your face. Your legs move against the soft sheets, scrambling away from the warm light and back into the cool, dark shade. You feel the accidental touch of another's limb entangling with yours, and suddenly, the awareness of a nearby person kicks in.

Your eyes open begrudgingly. Blinking away the sleepy fog, the hazy outline of a breathing figure becomes obvious. Bushy brown hair, tousled in every direction, and a red shirt peeking out from beneath the cozy blanket—it’s Dipper.

His back is turned towards you, but you could tell it's him even in the dark.

A slow smile spreads across your face, your eyes softening as you watch your boyfriend sleep peacefully. A part of you is tempted to pinch him awake.

Reflecting on the previous day, you realize that your stay at the Mystery Shack is likely to extend longer than expected. The dragon that terrorized Gravity Falls and subsequently reduced your home to ashes with its fiery breath has made sure of that. It'll take at least a miraculous week for the construction workers to rebuild your house. Adding to the uncertainty, your aunt and uncle, with whom you were spending the summer, are still out of town and won’t return for a few more days. The only explanation you could recall for their departure was something about Las Vegas—perhaps they were seeing a show?

Lost in thought about your temporary situation, you barely notice Dipper shifting beside you. He turns to face you, rubbing his swollen eyes. His gaze drifts from your distant stare to the slight purse of your lips.

"You're awake before me…"

His somewhat raspy voice pulls you back to the moment. You refocus on him, a light chuckle escaping as you tease, "Morning, sleeping beauty. How was the sleep?"

Dipper groans, rubbing the bridge of his nose with one hand, while the other remains tucked under the pillow, acting as an extra cushion. "Ugh… seriously?"

You laugh, satisfied with his reaction. "What? I'm just surprised you slept in. Usually, you're up at the crack of dawn, either heading off to the basement with Grunkle Ford or helping Grunkle Stan with the Mystery Shack." Your eyes flick to the clock on his bedside table. It’s midday—meaning we both slept through the entire morning.

Luckily you skipped eating Stan's pancakes. The idea of eating one of his arm hairs gave you shivers.

"Hmm," Dipper hums thoughtfully, preparing his throat to respond. "Well, someone had to take down that dragon. And it definitely wasn't you." With a mischievous glint in his eye, he reaches out and lightly pokes the tip of your nose.

"Haha, hey!" You laugh, swatting his hand away playfully. "It wasn’t you either! If I remember right, a certain Grunkle with a pot belly climbed onto the dragon’s back and punched it in the face until it plummeted into the canyons beyond Gravity Falls."

Dipper shrugs nonchalantly. "Someone had to tell him what to do. I used the journal to figure out the dragon’s weakness. That’s what led to Stan recklessly defeating it."

"Okay, okay," you concede, sitting up and raising your hands in mock surrender. "Fair enough. You're the hero, Dipper."

A smug grin spreads across his face, a self-satisfied smile that stretches from ear to ear. "That's right, (Y/n)."

You swing one leg out of the comfortable bed, the sticky, humid air in the attic making it increasingly uncomfortable to stay under the covers. Yet, despite the heat, a part of you longs to retreat back into the cozy embrace of a lazy afternoon. But the thought of wasting away a perfectly good summer day doesn’t sit well with you.

Before you can fully escape, Dipper scrambles forward, catching your waist with his arm and pulling you back toward him. "Where do you think you’re going?" he teases, rubbing his nose playfully against the back of your shirt, bunching up the fabric.

A blush creeps onto your cheeks as you grab his forearm, trying to pry him off. But to your surprise, his grip is stronger than you expected. "What are you doing? Let go, Dipper!"

Dipper lets out a soft noise of defiance, clearly agitated by your unusual willingness to leave his embrace. Normally, you would do anything to stay near him for longer than ten minutes, as he would usually be too flustered to stand beside you without almost exploding. Now, he buries his face deeper into your back, inhaling the scent of your shirt while mumbling incomprehensible words.

You twist slightly to get a glimpse of him. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice the tips of his ears are bright red, and a flush of color highlights his cheeks. Why was he clinging to you so desperately? You sigh gently, your tone softening as you ask, "What's wrong, Dipper?" You run your fingers through his messy brown locks, ruffling his hair. Despite the occasional knot, it’s incredibly soft to the touch.

"Let's just…" he mumbles again, his voice barely audible as his nose nuzzles against your hip. His arm tightens around you, pulling you even closer.

You swallow thickly and look up at the slanted ceiling. If this is some kind of blessing, waking up to a clingy Dipper, then you ought to thank whatever higher power is responsible. You also hope your dead relatives are averting their gazes from this private moment.

Taking a deep breath, you lay back down and adjust both of your bodies on the twin bed until you're facing each other. His legs instinctively intertwine with yours, and just as naturally, his hands find your waist, while yours cup his cheeks. Now that your eyes have fully adjusted to the dim light, you notice the drooping eye bags beneath Dipper’s swollen eyes. It looks like his thoughts kept him up last night.

"Dipper…" you murmur, rubbing his face soothingly. You're careful, pressing lightly against his pale skin. "You can tell me what's wrong, you know? Whatever it is, it’s okay to let me know what's upsetting you."

Despite the reassurance in your voice, Dipper hesitates, weighing whether to open up. It’s not fear holding him back; it’s the worry that you might see him differently. All summer, he’d been crafting an image of himself that he hoped would impress you—from hunting monsters to showing off his latest inventions. The last thing he wanted was for you to think less of him for being a bit vulnerable.

"I thought…" Dipper swallows hard, blinking a few times as he gathers his thoughts. "I thought I was going to lose you yesterday." His words come out gruffly, almost like an old man grumbling to himself, but there’s a tremor in his voice. Saying it aloud makes his fear feel both foolish and painfully real. Maybe you mean even more to him than he realized. "I thought that dragon was going to eat you, (Y/n). Or worse, you could’ve fallen from a million feet in the sky! I should’ve been there for you. I should’ve done something sooner."

You feel him clench your shirt, his fist trembling slightly as his breath hitches at the thought of losing you. Your expression softens, and you gently brush your fingers against the corners of his eyes, smoothing out the wrinkles. "Dipper… Aww… you know, we’ve been in much scarier situations, right?"

"Yeah, but the dragon literally picked you up with its sharp fangs and started flapping its wings!"

"Like a giant bat?"

"…Yeah… like an impossibly ginormous bat," Dipper sniffles, ducking his head lower. His eyes and the upper parts of his cheeks are hidden in the shadow of his hair, making it difficult for you to see his expression.

You can sense the weight of his fear, the way he’s been holding it all in, trying to be strong for you.

"Well," you begin, careful not to coddle him in a way that might make him feel ridiculed, though he was undeniably adorable in this moment. "Just like those bats you scramble to catch in Stan's kitchen, I knew you'd come to save the day." A gentle smile spreads across your face as you squished his cheeks and then pulled him into a deep embrace.

As you press against him, the familiar scent of clean laundry and pine trees fills your senses, a surprisingly comforting combination that always reminds you of Dipper. For someone who often fumbles through awkward moments and sweats through tense situations, he actually smells pretty pleasant. Perhaps it’s that ever-present vest that usually traps the worst of it, but right now, in this quiet moment, he’s almost intoxicatingly comforting. Ugh… that sounds weird.

You pat his back soothingly, your hands moving in slow, rhythmic circles as the creaks of the wooden shack and the distant, boisterous shouts of Dipper’s relatives filter in from outside.

But then, the tranquility is interrupted by a loud, unmistakable grumble from Dipper’s stomach. You pull away just enough to meet his eyes, your own widening in surprise.

"…That did not sound human," you quip, laughter bubbling up from your chest.

"Haha… sorry, (Y/n)," Dipper mumbles, his face turning an alarming shade of crimson as he sits up, sheepishly clutching his stomach. "That’s… embarrassing."

"Pfft…" You stifle your laughter, finding his awkwardness endearing. It’s a relief to see him returning to his usual self, though a part of you still worries that the earlier sadness might creep back in if you’re not careful. "Come on, let’s get something to eat, Dipping Sauce."

The nickname rolls off your tongue effortlessly, and before Dipper can muster up a protest against the new name, you’re already on your feet, heading for the door. His half-hearted objections follow you, but you’re too quick, slipping out of the musty attic with a change of clothes in hand.

Just across from the bedroom door is a small, worn bathroom. You step inside and lock the door, twisting the handle a couple of times to ensure it’s properly secured. In this old, creaky house, you’ve learned to be cautious—the faulty locks have nearly resulted in more than one embarrassing incident. You didn’t need a repeat of someone barging in on you in a moment of privacy.

As you glance at yourself in the mirror, you can’t help but smile, a mix of affection and amusement lingering from your interaction with Dipper. There’s something about this place, despite its decay and oddities, that feels like home—or maybe it’s just the people in it that make it feel that way.

On the porcelain sink sits a pink cup adorned with colorful stickers, filled with three toothbrushes: a blue one for Dipper, a purple one for Mabel, and your own. Hanging on the hooks on the wall is your towel, and then a vibrant, multicolored one, and another, more subdued in color. As you glance around, you realize how seamlessly you’ve settled in with the twins over the summer. The cozy familiarity of the bathroom feels like a small, comforting victory.

You finally take a good, long look at yourself in the mirror. Your face is a bit puffy from oversleeping, and your hair is a tangled mess from constantly shifting around the bed in search of a cooler spot during the night. Sighing, you reach up to open the mirror's door, revealing a hidden medicine cabinet. Three bright yellow sticky notes catch your eye.

The first reads: YOU'RE DA BEST! The second says: SMILE Someone LOVES IT! The third states: U R MY FAV PERSON!

The large, eccentric letters and the myriad of smiley faces, hearts, and stars bring a smile to your face. Mabel’s penchant for spreading positivity is evident, even when she’s not around. It’s a small reminder of her vibrant spirit and how much she values the little things that make life bright.

Singing a song, you freshen up for the day ahead. After changing into some flexible clothing, you double-tie the laces of your sneakers—just in case running from a monster becomes part of today’s agenda.

Tucking your pajamas under your arm, you open the door and are greeted by an unexpected sight. Dipper is sitting on the floor beside the bathroom door, his nose buried deep in Journal 3. The soft glow of the morning light filters through a narrow window, casting a warm hue on his focused expression.

"Dipper!" You exclaim, startled by the sight. "What are you doing out here?"

"Oh um…" Dipper snaps the book shut and looks up at you, his face a mix of guilt and awkwardness. "Just… you know… waiting for you?" He hesitates, his eyes darting to the left as if searching for a more convincing excuse.

"…You know, that's kind of weird, right?"

"Umm… haha… yeah… I wasn’t actually waiting for you," he stammers, standing up abruptly and shuffling away. The tips of his ears flush a vivid shade of red. "Just needed a place to sit. Definitely wasn’t listening to you sing earlier or anything, haha."

You blink, taken aback by his strange reaction. He blinks back at you, looking equally bewildered.

You open your mouth to respond, "Dipp--"

Suddenly, he cuts you off, turning on his heel and dashing down the hallway. "You know what! I think I just heard Stan call for me! What’s that, Stan? You need help with the Mystery Shack?" His voice grows increasingly frantic as he hurries away, and soon, you’re left standing there, confused by his sudden flight.

You tilt your head, a mix of confusion and amusement on your face. "Huh… that was…" You slowly said, wondering what might have set him off. Perhaps he’s just hungry or disoriented? After a moment’s thought, you shrug it off and head back into the twins’ room.

The sight of the room never fails to catch your attention, no matter how many times you see it. Mabel’s side is a riot of color and creativity. The walls are covered with a vibrant array of stickers, photos, and posters, each one adding to her charm. Her pink bedding is decorated with a cheerful yellow flower on the headboard, giving her bed a whimsical touch.

However, Mabel’s natural disarray is evident. Her bed is a jumble of sheets and pillows, and the floor is strewn with toys, sweaters, and other belongings. It’s a vivid testament to her vibrant personality but also a stark contrast to the neatness you’ve come to expect elsewhere.

You can’t help but smile as you take in the scene. Despite the clutter, the room radiates warmth and character. It’s clear that Mabel’s creative spirit knows no bounds, and her space reflects her energetic and carefree nature.

As you settle your dirty clothes into the laundry bag, you catch sight of a small, hand-drawn poster pinned to the wall. It’s a whimsical doodle of a unicorn with a rainbow mane, surrounded by hearts and stars. Beneath it, in Mabel’s characteristic scrawl, is a note that reads: Be awesome today!

That’s too cute.

Turning your gaze to Dipper’s side of the room, you find an equally personal space. His walls are decorated with a more restrained collection of posters and maps—mostly sketches of mythical creatures, cryptic symbols, and adventure-themed designs. There’s a large, hand-drawn map of Gravity Falls pinned above his desk, with various notes and markings indicating mysterious locations and possible leads.

Dipper’s bed is neatly made, with a plain blue comforter and a couple of well-loved pillows. The bed frame is tucked against one wall, and next to it stands a wooden table cluttered with research materials: a stack of notebooks, a magnifying glass, and a few stray paper clips. On the wall above his bed, there’s hooks with binoculars hanging down. One corner of the room is dedicated to his growing collection of journals and reference books.

Despite the empty room, it felt like the twins were still there bickering.

Smiling, you spun on your heels and bounced down the staircase, humming a tune that matched your upbeat mood. As you entered the living room, you were greeted by the sight of Mabel, who was knitting away on the yellow-striped armchair while Waddles snoozed contentedly on the armrest.

“Mabel! How are you?” you called out, your voice warm and cheerful.

“(Y/n)!” Mabel’s voice rang out, filling the room with her boundless energy. “Wanna see what I’m doing?” Her eyebrows shot up in excitement as she thrust her arms out, revealing the project in her lap. The green knit was a large sweater, adorned with a huge yellow heart on the front. It was only halfway finished, but already it radiated Mabel’s signature charm.

“Aww! That’s so cute, Mabel! Who’s it going to be for?” you asked, genuinely impressed.

“It’s for Stan!” Mabel’s excitement caused her to nearly leap from her seat. “It’s so soft! Do you think he’s going to like it? I even made a matching one for Grunkle Ford.” She dramatically produced an identical sweater from behind her, its vibrant colors contrasting with the green of the first.

You felt a pang of hesitation. Mabel’s innocent enthusiasm was endearing, but you had to be honest. You gently took her hand and, with a serious expression, said, “I hate to say it, but I don’t think Stan or Ford are the type to wear sweaters. I mean, Stan can barely wear pants, and Ford… well…” You glanced around to ensure no one was within earshot. Leaning in, you whispered, “He’s kind of weird…”

Mabel blinked, her eyes wide with surprise. You held your breath, hoping she wouldn’t be too disappointed.

“My Grunkle isn’t weird!” Mabel exclaimed, her face turning from shock to fierce determination. She pushed you away, and then suddenly stood on the couch cushion, her two hands firmly planted on her hips. She was gripping her needles tightly. “He’s just… quirky! And Stan is awesome! They’re gonna love these sweaters, I just know it!”

“L-Look, Mabel!” You quickly stood up, backing away slowly as if trying to distance yourself from an impending storm. With both hands in the air, you tried to gesture away her frustration. “You see—”

“He is not weird!” Mabel’s voice was filled with indignation, her face flushed with a mix of anger and hurt.

“Woah, woah…” Dipper appeared in the doorway, sandwich in one hand and the other extended in a placating gesture. “What’s going on? Mabel… put the needles down.”

Mabel glared at you for a moment before reluctantly setting the knitting needles aside, her defiant posture faltering. You sighed in relief, glancing at Dipper with a mix of gratitude and embarrassment.

Dipper stepped closer, taking a bite of his sandwich before speaking. “So, what’s all this about?”

Mabel took a deep breath, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I was knitting sweaters for Grunkle Stan and Ford for Random Act of Kindness Day!”

“Random Act of Kindness Day?” Dipper asked, his brow furrowing in confusion as he took another bite of his sandwich.

“Yes, Random Act of Kindness Day!” Mabel’s voice trembled slightly, but her determination remained. “It’s tomorrow, and I wanted to do something nice for Stan and Ford.” She sat down on the edge of the couch, looking utterly defeated. Waddles, sensing her distress, waddled over to nuzzle her side, offering his comforting presence. “B-But (Y/n) says that they wouldn’t like it.”

The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of Mabel’s disappointment hanging heavy in the air. Dipper set his sandwich down and approached Mabel, crouching beside her.

“Mabel,” he said gently, “I think (Y/n) was just trying to be realistic. But honestly, I think it’s really thoughtful of you to make these sweaters. They might not wear them all the time, but they’ll definitely appreciate the gesture. It’s the thought that counts.”

Mabel looked up at him, her eyes still shiny with unshed tears. “You think so?”

Dipper nodded, offering her a reassuring smile. “Definitely. And I’m sure Stan and Ford will be touched by your kindness. Besides, it’s not about what they wear—it’s about knowing you care.”

Dipper glanced over to you with a look of concern, his worry evident in the furrow of his brow.

You quickly stepped in, your voice firm but reassuring. “I never said they wouldn’t like it! I just mentioned that they might not wear it.”

After a brief pause, Dipper’s expression softened as he considered your perspective. He gave a reluctant nod of agreement. “Yeah… I’m sorry, Mabel, but I have to agree with (Y/n).”

Mabel’s face remained etched with frustration, tears streaming down her cheeks as her emotions ran high.

“Wh-What I mean is,” Dipper’s voice wavered slightly, a trace of panic coloring his words, “let’s think about it. Have we ever actually seen Stan or Ford wear sweaters? Especially bright green ones?”

Mabel blinked, her anger giving way to confusion. “No…”

“Then…” Dipper extended the word, taking a cautious step closer to his visibly upset sister. “Maybe we can help you come up with another gift idea?”

The room seemed to hold its breath as Mabel’s features softened, the earlier anger dissipating into a mixture of sadness and contemplation. Dipper managed a small, half-hearted smile, a gesture of both apology and reassurance.

You decided to chime in, trying to break the tension with a hopeful tone. “What would they like then?”

The three of you fell into thoughtful silence, pondering what Stan and Ford would truly appreciate for Random Act of Kindness Day. Stan had a well-known affection for money, while Ford’s interests leaned heavily towards his eccentric, nerdy pursuits. The possibilities seemed both endless and implausible.

A golden statue with laser eyes? A goose that pooped wads of cash every time you fed it a screw? The more you brainstormed, the more convoluted and impractical each idea appeared.

Mabel, regaining her composure, gave a small, thoughtful nod. “Well, Stan does love money, and Ford… he’s always talking about weird science stuff. Maybe we could come up with something that combines their interests?”

Dipper’s eyes lit up with a spark of inspiration. “We could go find something in the woods? Ford could research it and Stan could turn it into an attraction.”

“Oh! Great idea, Dipper!” Mabel bounced with enthusiasm, her earlier frustration melting away. “I’ll make them flower crowns and turn them into pretty princesses.”

You raised an eyebrow at Mabel’s statement but decided to focus on the more pressing matter. “Monster hunting…? While I love to agree with you, Dipper, we’d need to be careful. Last time we ventured into the woods, it didn’t exactly go as planned.” You were making a point to the time Dipper, Mabel, and you set out into the woods for what was supposed to be a straightforward search for a unique artifact that Ford had mentioned in his research. According to the old legends, the mirrorstone reveals a glimpse of alternate realities or possible futures. Though, it looks like a plain, unassuming rock. Ford thought it could be a fascinating addition to his collection, and Stan would surely enjoy the story behind it.

However, as you ventured deeper into the cave, you began to notice strange occurrences—whispers in the wind, eerie shadows flitting between rocks, and the sudden chill in the air. Unbeknownst to you, the "mirrorstone" was guarded by a mythical creature known as the Shadow Serpent, a guardian of the forest with the ability to manipulate shadows and create illusions.

As you approached the cave, the shadows around you seemed to come alive, twisting and writhing into serpentine shapes. The Shadow Serpent emerged. The ordeal left you all exhausted but triumphant. But, while you managed to retrieve the rock, which turned out to be even more beautiful than you imagined, the experience left the three of you exhausted.

Dipper nodded, understanding the concern. “You’re right, we need to be careful. But what if we keep it safe and still make it fun? We find something interesting in the woods, and Mabel can still make the crowns. It could make the whole thing more special—and we’d have a good excuse to explore a bit”

Mabel’s eyes sparkled at the idea. “That sounds awesome! We could find something magical and then give it a special place with the crowns.”

You smiled at the compromise, feeling reassured. “That sounds perfect. Just as long as we stay careful—I’d rather not have another run-in with mythical creatures.”

You pulled Dipper aside, lowering your voice. “Hey, thanks for earlier. Mabel was really upset, and you handled it like a pro.”

Dipper blushed slightly, scratching the back of his head. “No big deal. I just didn’t want her to stay upset. And, honestly, exploring Gravity Falls never gets old.”

You smirked, nudging him playfully. “Well, with you around, I guess we’re always in for an adventure. Or at least, a grand tour of ‘Things That Can Go Horribly Wrong.’”

Dipper chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Hey, if you’re going to stick around for all the chaos, I guess I should warn you—my tours come with a no-return policy.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Sounds like a deal. I’ll just make sure to bring extra snacks and a sense of humor.”

Dipper grinned, giving you a friendly bump. “Perfect. We’ll need both. And maybe a few emergency supplies, just in case.”

As you all geared up, packing essentials and making sure to bring plenty of supplies, the anticipation of the adventure grew. The idea of finding something both incredible and fitting for Random Act of Kindness Day became an exciting prospect.

With the sun filtering through the trees and the crisp air hinting at adventure, the three of you set out into the forest. The peacefulness of the woods was a stark contrast to the thrilling escapades that lay ahead. Birds chirped cheerfully overhead, and the rustling leaves provided a calming backdrop to your journey.

As you trekked over fallen branches and through the underbrush, you chatted excitedly about the possibilities. Dipper and Mabel shared their theories about what the enchanted grove might hold—a squirrel with a tiny top hat and monocle, who speaks in a posh British accent and gives out riddles; or bioluminescent flora that light up the forest with a mesmerizing, otherworldly glow You joined in with suggestions of your own, a staff with a clock-like face that can briefly slow down or speed up time. Maybe finding it could lead to you sleeping in for an extra hour.

The forest seemed to envelop you in its embrace, with the dappled sunlight creating shifting patterns on the forest floor. Mable picked various flowers along the way. Anything that seemed interesting or pretty, such as flowers that glowed in the shade, or a normal daisy. But as the hours passed, the peaceful ambiance gave way to a more ominous feeling. The trees grew denser, the shadows deeper. The path, once clear and inviting, became increasingly tangled and overgrown. Even the sky changed shades. It was once clear and blue, but now storming clouds blanketed the sun.

Dipper paused, consulting his map and muttering to himself about landmarks. “Where even are we? This doesn’t look right…” He avoids stepping on a peculiar mushroom with thorns sticking out of it.

Mabel, her enthusiasm undeterred, continued to weave her flower crowns, her eyes occasionally glancing around for inspiration. “I can’t wait to see what we find! Imagine if we discover something truly magical!” Her large doe eyes sparkle with interest, innocently admiring the sights before her.

“Mabel, stay close,” you advised, trying to keep your voice steady despite the growing unease. “We don’t know what’s out here.” You raised your bat, ready to face whatever might emerge from the underbrush.

After a tense moment, a playful squirrel burst from the leaves, its tiny eyes wide with fear at the sight of the humans and their defensive stances. You all breathed a collective sigh of relief, the tension breaking into nervous laughter.

“That’s one way to lighten the mood,” you said, shaking your head with a chuckle. “I was almost ready to face a dragon or something.”

Dipper laughed, adjusting his grip on the journal. “Yeah, I’d say we’ve had enough dragon encounters for a lifetime.” He tucks his hat lower upon his head, securing the band for fear of losing it.

Mabel giggled, still clutching the flower crows. “If only we could find a dragon that’s friendly and loves flower crowns!” Despite her statement, you sense that she wasn’t willing to sacrifice the gifts to escape a giant lizard.

“Now that would be something,” you agreed with a grin. “But let’s focus on finding something less fiery for the day.”

The forest seemed to hold its breath as you continued, every rustle and snap magnified in the stillness. What had started as an exciting quest was turning into something more intense, with a palpable sense of anticipation hanging in the air.

Suddenly, the trees parted to reveal a clearing bathed in an ethereal light. In the center stood a grove of ancient, gnarled trees that arched together to form a natural gateway. The sight was mesmerizing but also a bit unsettling. The air crackled with an otherworldly energy, hinting at the enchantment and danger that lay ahead. Various circles of mushrooms and pops of colorful flowers decorates the green grass.

It was like a true depiction of spring.

“Flowers!” Mabel dashed forward, her excitement momentarily overriding her sense of danger. Her hair flew behind her as she sprinted towards the vibrant scene.

“Mabel, wait!” Dipper’s voice trembled with concern as he scrambled to catch up to his reckless sister. He glanced at you with wide eyes, the urgency in his expression clear.

You followed closely behind, casting wary glances at the arching trees and the shifting shadows, ready for anything that might leap out to capture the three of you.

Mabel collapsed into the fluffy grass, her hands eagerly plucking various flowers to add to her nearly completed flower crown. Her eye for aesthetic was impeccable as she created a crown that was not only beautiful but also unique. “Look at all these amazing flowers!” she exclaimed, beaming with pride. “This is perfect for the crowns!”

Dipper, catching up, bent over to catch his breath. “Mabel, this place is incredible, but we need to be careful. We don’t know what kind of magic or creatures might be here.”

“Relax, Dipper!” Mabel said, waving him off with a carefree laugh. “It’s just flowers and mushrooms. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Let’s stick together and stay sharp,” you advised. “We’re here to find something cool, not to get into more trouble.”

“Oh quite spoiling my mood, (Y/n)!” Mabel shoos you away, frowning. “You didn’t like my sweaters and now you’re trying to ruin my flower crowns? Don’t you even want to give Stan and Ford anything?”

“Mabel that’s not what I—”

She turns away sniffling. “Whatever. Dipper! Tell (Y/n) that I don’t want to talk to her anymore.”

“Umm…” Dipper looks at you, cautiously hesitating as he decides between you or his sister.

“You know what?” You huffed and walked away, waving a careless arm in the air. “I told you. I was just offering some advice and you’re the one who took offense to it. It’s not my fault you didn’t consider Stan and Ford’s preferences in your gift.”

“What’s that suppose to mean—”

You refuse to hear the rest of her protest as you went further and further away from the twins. Who cares what Mabel thought? You were only trying to be helpful. Stan and Ford deserve a gift that they both like. Not something that Mabel thinks they’ll like.

As you neared a creak of gushing water. The refreshing sounds eases your concerns and you stopped, pausing to consider why you were so angry. “Ugh… What am I even doing?” You mumble exasperatedly, sitting down with a plop. You dip your hands into the fresh water, admiring the way it effortlessly washed away the dirt on your palms. “Mabel’s gift isn’t my gift. I shouldn’t have taken her considerations for others so personally…”

A butterfly fluttered before you, its wings a mesmerizing blend of blue and purple, shimmering in the sunlight as if defying gravity itself. You were captivated by the way its colors shifted with each flap, and instinctively, you reached out a hand to touch it. But just as your fingers were about to brush against its delicate wings, a high-pitched scream shattered the peaceful moment.

“Mabel!” Your heart leaped in your chest as you tore your gaze from the butterfly, dashing back through the underbrush toward the sound. Branches snagged at your clothes, and the forest seemed to close in around you as the scream echoed again, spurring you forward. It was unmistakable—Mabel was in trouble.

You burst into the clearing where you'd left Dipper and Mabel, expecting the worst. But what you found was far from what you imagined. Mabel was there, unharmed, standing amidst a cloud of glittering dust, her eyes wide with wonder. A pair of pixies were hovering above her, playfully tugging at her flower crowns, while Dipper had his backed to to you, shouting and jumping in delight.

The scream, you realized, had been one of delight, not fear. Mabel was giggling, twirling in the grass as the beautiful beings danced around her, their tiny wings leaving trails of shimmering light in the air. They were beautiful, with their iridescent wings and cherubic faces, but there was something unsettling about the way they moved, the way their eyes sparkled with a mischievous, almost malevolent, light.

"Mabel!" you called, trying to keep your voice steady. But she was lost in her own world, completely enchanted by the creatures.

You approached Dipper cautiously, tapping his shoulder to get his attention. He jumped, startled out of his intense focus. When he turned around, a grin spread across his face, wide and almost delirious. "(Y/n)! There you are! Aren’t they amazing?" His voice was pitched higher than usual, his excitement palpable.

"Umm... what's going on?" you asked, taking a step back. Fear laces your senses your boyfriend’s unusual state.

"These are Glimmerlings!" Dipper exclaimed, holding up Journal 3 and flipping to the entry on the creatures. He began to read aloud, his eyes wide with fascination. “They’re tiny, about the size of a hummingbird, with wings that shimmer in every color of the rainbow. They look harmless, almost angelic, but they’re actually really dangerous.”

As he read, you couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of dread. The Glimmerlings were indeed beautiful, but Dipper’s words painted a darker picture. "They’re fond of stealing small, precious items—things with sentimental value—and hoarding them in their nests. But what’s worse is their ability to create powerful illusions, leading people into traps or making them lose their way in the woods."

You looked over at Mabel, who was now stumbling toward the edge of the clearing, the Glimmerlings hovering just out of reach, giggling as they lured her deeper into the forest. Her hands were empty. Panic flared in your chest. "Dipper, how do we avoid getting enchanted? How do we know if we're already under their spell?"

Dipper glanced at you, the seriousness of the situation finally sinking in. "Probably when we start seeing things that aren’t there... or if we start following them without thinking." His eyes widened as he realized Mabel was already under their influence. "Mabel! Wait!"

Without another word, you both sprinted after her, but the forest seemed to close in around you, the trees growing thicker, the path more treacherous. Mabel’s laughter echoed eerily through the trees, but no matter how fast you ran, she seemed to slip further away.

"(Y/n)... give me... a second..." Dipper gasped, finally stopping to catch his breath, his hands on his knees as he tried to regain his composure. You stopped too, collapsing to the ground beside him, your chest heaving as you struggled to breathe.

"How could she get so far away?" you groaned, wiping sweat from your brow.

Dipper shook his head, still trying to catch his breath. "I don’t know... Maybe the Glimmerlings are speeding her up somehow?"

"Or maybe it’s just Mabel being Mabel," you muttered, though you couldn’t shake the feeling that something more sinister was at play.

Dipper pulled out the journal again, flipping through the pages with shaky hands. "Okay, here it is... To break free from their illusions, we need a loud noise or a bright, concentrated light. A whistle or a flashlight should work."

You slipped off your backpack and began rummaging through it. Pulling out a flashlight, you held it out to him. "This should do it."

Dipper smiled, albeit weakly. "Nice, (Y/n)! But we still need to figure out how to get the flower crowns back."

He skimmed through the journal again, nodding as he found the right passage. "We can create a decoy—something shiny or magical. If we throw it near their nest, they might go after it, and we can grab the crowns while they’re distracted."

You pondered your options for a moment, tapping your index finger against your chin. “How about,” you suggested, “We shine the flashlight on the Glimmerlings first to break any illusions, then run back to the meadow, find the nest with the flower crowns, and throw the flashlight to distract them?”

Dipper nodded, but something in the back of your mind nagged at you, a lingering doubt that you couldn’t shake. The forest seemed to grow darker, more ominous, and you realized that the trees around you appeared to be closing in, twisting into shapes that made your skin crawl. The path ahead was barely visible, just a thin trail through dense, gnarled branches that seemed to reach out toward you.

You glanced at Dipper, but he didn’t seem to notice the impending doom. Maybe it’s just exhaustion or the fact that the moon has finally risen while the three of you were trapped in the forest?

Dipper reaches a hand out to help you up. “Let’s go find Mabel, (Y/n).” His grip on your hand tightens, refusing to let it go.

“Yeah…” You smiled weakly. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching you. As the two of you walked, hand and hand, over and under various obstacles, it seemed as though everything was trying to corner you into a singular space. Like you were walking in circles. What made it even more odd, was the fact that not a singular bird chirped or crowed in the wind, or bugs echoing their calls. It was completely silent.

You tug at his hand. “Wait a minute,” you said, your voice trembling slightly as you looked around. “Something’s not right…?” You couldn’t believe yourself. But your instincts told you that the prying eyes that watched you with delight wasn’t normal, and neither was this odd forest.

Dipper’s eyes widened as he took in your words, and he quickly lets go to flipped through the journal, scanning the pages with growing urgency. “You’re right… this doesn’t make sense. The Glimmerlings create illusions, maybe…”

You both fell silent, the air around you heavy with an eerie stillness. The trees loomed closer, their shadows stretching out like dark tendrils. The overcast sky was barely visible. Panic started to bubble up inside you as the realization hit: you were already under the influence of the Glimmerlings’ magic.

“Dipper,” you whispered, your voice tight with fear, “we need to snap out of this, now.”

Dipper fumbled with the flashlight in his hand, his fingers trembling as he turned it on. The beam cut through the darkness, but it barely seemed to pierce the suffocating gloom around you. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest. Mabel’s laughter, faint and distant, drifted through the air. She sounded so far away, but something about the way her voice echoed didn’t feel right.

“That’s it!” Dipper exclaimed suddenly. “The illusions—they’re warping our perception of distance and direction. We’re not as deep into the forest as it seems.” Immediately, Dipper shined the light up, and the darkness seemed to flicker, like a screen glitching before resetting. The twisted trees and suffocating shadows wavered, then began to dissolve like smoke in the wind. For a brief, disorienting moment, the world around you warped and shifted, and then—

The illusion shattered.

The dense, menacing forest melted away, replaced by a much more normal sight of trees and rocks. Even the sunset sky became visible. There were Glimmerings floating above the two of you, they screeched in pain as they struggle to remain stagnant in the air against the light. They began to fly further and further away as Dipper waves the flashlight, disappearing beyond your sight.

Relief flooded through you, and you let out a shaky laugh. “Nice one, Dipper! You saved us from glittery doom.”

Dipper grinned, a bit of his usual confidence returning. “Hey, I’ve got a thing for solving supernatural problems, remember? Besides, someone had to keep us from getting lost in fairyland.” His hands were sweaty and so he hid them behind his vest to wipe them.

You smirked, nudging him playfully. “I’ll give you that. But let’s not celebrate too soon. We still have to find Mabel and get those crowns back.”

Dipper’s smile faded slightly as he nodded, the weight of the situation settling back in. “Yeah, you’re right. She couldn’t have gone far—probably just ahead.”

You both pushed forward, urgency driving you. “Come on, Dipper, we’re almost there.”

Just as the trees gave away to an opening, your heart nearly stopped when you spotted Mabel—she was standing less than ten feet away at the very edge of a steep cliff, teetering dangerously close to the brink. The Glimmerlings fluttered around her. their eyes were upturned in delight, trying to coax her into the deadly drop below.

“Mabel, no!” you shouted, sprinting toward her with all the speed you could muster. Dipper was right behind you, the flashlight’s beam bouncing wildly as he ran.

“Mabel, stop!” Dipper yelled, his voice cracking with panic.

But Mabel seemed entranced, her eyes glazed over as she reached out for the Glimmerlings, oblivious to the danger she was in. The creatures snickered and fluttered just out of her reach, luring her closer to the edge.

You knew you had to act fast. “Dipper, shine the light on them—now!”

Dipper skidded to a stop just a few feet from Mabel, aiming the flashlight directly at the Glimmerlings. The beam of light caught them in mid-flight, and the effect was immediate. The creatures shrieked in high-pitched, unearthly voices as the light struck them. They scattered in all directions, their shimmering wings leaving behind trails of glittering dust as they fled.

The moment the Glimmerlings’ hold on her was broken, Mabel stumbled forward right over the cliff, her eyes widening in shock as she realized how she was going to plummet down straight to her death. You lunged forward, grabbing her arm and pulling her back to safety, your heart racing as the adrenaline surged through your veins.

“Mabel!” you gasped, holding her tight. “Are you okay?”

Mabel blinked, dazed but unharmed. “(Y/n)? Dipper? What just happened?”

Dipper was panting, his face pale with fear, but he managed a shaky smile. “You almost took a very bad fall, Mabel. But we got you.”

Mabel’s eyes filled with tears, and she hugged you tightly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I just wanted to play with them. They were so pretty.”

“It’s okay,” you murmured, smoothing her hair. “We’re all safe now. But let’s get out of here before those things come back.”

A long moment passes as the you held Mabel tightly. You couldn’t believe that you almost lost her. This is probably how Dipper felt when the dragon whisked you away in its jaw.

As you and Dipper helped her up, one of your arms wrapped securely around her waist while Dipper’s other arm supported her shoulder. Mabel wasn’t injured, but the near-death experience had left her shaky and unable to walk steadily. The three of you made your way back through the forest, and it quickly became apparent that there had never been a beautiful clearing with arching trees—it was all an illusion conjured by the Glimmerlings.

Just as you helped guide Mabel over a fallen tree trunk, Mabel gasped in surprise. Startled, your head whipped around, expecting to find a Glimmering, but there wasn’t one in sight.

“W-What is it?!” Dipper’s voice cracked with panic.

“The flower crowns!” Mabel suddenly pulled away from the two of you and pointed frantically in the direction you had just come from. “Those pesky fairies took the flower crowns I was going to give to Grunkle Stan and Ford…” Her lips pursed in a shaky pout, eyes wide and brimming with tears.

“Oh… it’s just the flower crowns.” Dipper sighed in relief and gently grabbed Mabel’s arm. “They’re just flower crowns, Mabel. You can always make more.”

“No! They were flowers from our adventure! I can’t just give them any other flower crown!” Mabel protested, her voice cracking with emotion. She shook off Dipper’s hand and prepared herself to climb back over the trunk.

A part of you wanted to rip out your hair at Mabel’s stubbornness, but you also understood. To Mabel, her Grunkles were irreplaceable, and they didn’t deserve substitutes or replacements.

Dipper groaned, rubbing the space between his brow as he tried to think of something comforting to say.

You reached out to Mabel and pulled her into a hug. “I think…” You breathed in her scent—a sweet mix of sugary but warm vanilla. “Those sweaters you made for them will mean more than some dirty flowers from the forest.”

Mabel sniffled, still not reciprocating the hug. “But you said they wouldn’t wear them…”

You paused, realizing how your earlier words had hurt her. You pulled away slightly, cupping her cheeks in your hands and rubbing your nose fondly against hers. “Who cares what I think? Beautiful sweaters from their favorite niece will last longer than flowers that’ll decay in a few days.” You smiled warmly at her. “Besides, Dipper was right. It’s the thought that counts.”

As Dipper approached, he hesitated for just a moment before stepping into the hug, his arms wrapping around both you and Mabel. "You know, (Y/n)'s right. Those sweaters are awesome, Mabel. Stan and Ford are going to love them."

Mabel sniffled again, a small smile breaking through her pout. "You really think so?"

You nodded, giving her a reassuring squeeze. "Absolutely. And even if they don't wear them all the time, they'll always treasure something made by you."

Dipper added with a grin, "Plus, I bet they'll rock those sweaters when no one's looking."

Mabel let out a small giggle, wiping away her tears. "Maybe I'll make matching ones for Waddles too."

You laughed softly. "Now that would be a sight to see."

Dipper groaned. “Waddles in a sweater? Don’t you think it’s kinda weird to make sweaters for a pig?”

Even as the three of you laughed merrily, the embrace lingering as you held onto each other, the warmth of the moment made the chaotic adventure feel worthwhile. The tension of the day seemed to melt away, leaving only the comfort of being together. The birds finally cawed as they flew from tree to tree, squirrels danced in circles as they fought over nuts, and the bugs crawled along the dirt in search of food. It was a completely normal and unassuming hug.

Then, out of nowhere, you heard a loud, unmistakable sound of a fart.

“Oops! Sorry…” Mabel grinned, looking both sheepish and proud. “It’s my body’s way of saying it’s dinner time!”

“Ew, Mabel!” Dipper groaned, taking a step back with an exaggerated look of disgust. “Seriously?” Despite his protest, his eyes sparkled with laughter, unable to hide his amusement.

You tried to stifle your own laughter, teasing, “Shouldn’t it be your stomach making noise? Not your butt?” You couldn’t help but chuckle, relieved to see the Mabel you knew and loved was back to her usual self.

Mabel just shrugged, completely unbothered. “Hey, when nature calls, I answer! Besides, it’s a gift.”

“A gift?” Dipper raised an eyebrow, pretending to be horrified. “What kind of gift is that?!”

“Yeah, we’ve had enough surprises for one day,” you added, shaking your head with a grin.

Mabel giggled, wrapping her arms around both you and Dipper again. “I love you guys, even if you can’t appreciate my talents!”

After the laughter died down and the three of you finally released each other from the hug, the forest around you seemed to settle into a peaceful quiet. The chaos of the day felt like it had been left behind in the clearing, replaced by a warm, contented silence.

Dipper was the first to break the quiet, looking around with a thoughtful expression. “We should probably start heading back,” he said, glancing up at the sky. The moon was out. “We’ve had enough adventure for one day.”

You nodded in agreement, feeling a twinge of tiredness in your legs. “Yeah, let’s get out of here before something tries to eat us.”

With that, the three of you began making your way back through the forest. Dipper walked ahead, occasionally turning around to make sure his two favorite people were following, while Mabel chattered happily about all the things she wanted to do once you got back to the Mystery Shack. You listened with a smile, glad to see her enthusiasm hadn’t been dampened by the day’s events

Eventually, you could see the familiar outline of the Shack in the distance. The sight of it brought a wave of relief—finally, you were almost home. As you approached, you could hear the faint sounds of Stan and Ford arguing inside, their voices rising and falling in what sounded like a heated discussion. They paused abruptly when they spotted the three of you through the window of the gift shop, safe and sound, and their expressions shifted from concern to a mix of relief and confusion.

As you reached the patio of the tourist gift shop, Grunkle Stan rushed out, his arms wide for an embrace. He pulled the twins into a tight hug. “You three had us worried sick! What were you guys doing out there?”

Ford followed shortly behind, his hands in his pockets and his glasses perched high on his nose. His expression was a mix of sternness and concern as he glanced between you and the twins. “And where have you three been?” he asked, his voice carrying a hint of reprimand.

You glanced sheepishly at the twins, who seemed momentarily frozen with fear. You could practically feel the weight of Ford's gaze. “Um…” you began, trying to choose your words carefully. “You know… exploring…? In the… woods…?”

Stan held the twins out at arm's length, his face etched with a mix of relief and exasperation. His voice was higher than usual, laced with a note of panic. “Kids! Didn’t I tell you how dangerous it is out there?!”

Dipper and Mabel both looked down, their expressions a mix of guilt and fatigue. Stan’s eyes softened just a bit as he saw how exhausted they were, but the worry remained in his voice.

Ford stepped in, his eyes narrowing slightly behind his glasses. “Exploring can be risky. Especially this late in the day. Who knows what could have happened?”

You took a deep breath, stepping forward to ease the mounting tension. “We did run into a few... complications. But we’re all okay now. And, um, we have quite a story to tell.”

“Grunkle Ford, Stan! Don’t be so hard on us.” Mabel steps out, hands behind her back as she gives him the largest eyes in the world. “We were only trying to have fun.”

“There are better—safer, ways to have fun.” Ford’s scowls, clearly not falling for her puppy eyes.

Dipper pitches in hastley. His arm is around Mabel’s shoulders and he then reaches out to grasp your hand. “Next time, we’ll be more mindful of our safety. Promise.”

Ford and Stan raises an eyebrow at you and Mabel, expecting a unanimous agreement. The moment you and the brown haired girl echoed “Promise,” Stan’s shoulders relaxed a fraction, though his concern was still evident. “Just... next time, listen to the warnings. I don’t want to be dealing with any more close calls.”

Ford gave a reluctant nod, his stern expression softening slightly. “We’ll talk about it more later. For now, let’s get you all inside for a shower and dinner.” They stood ushered you guys inside, and then followed suit.

After the three of you got cleaned up, the aroma of Stan’s cooking wafted through the air as the group settled around the dinner table. Stan had outdone himself with a hearty meal of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and green beans. A difference from the usual ice cream for dinner. The comforting smell mixed with the sounds of plates clinking and utensils scraping as everyone took their seats.

Stan poured himself a generous serving of gravy and glanced at Dipper and Mabel. “So, what exactly were you kids up to today? You looked like you were through the wringer.”

Dipper exchanged a glance with Mabel, a subtle signal passing between them. Mabel’s eyes darted around the room, and she quickly shoved a forkful of mashed potatoes into her mouth, her cheeks puffed out and her eyes slanted sideways.

“Yeah, um,” Dipper said, his voice slightly strained as he took a large bite of his meatloaf. It seems like he also thought stuffing his face would avoid the question, because when he realized that his silent Grunkles were awaiting a reply, he choked out a reluctant response, “You know, just some harmless wandering around.”

Ford raised an eyebrow, leaning in with an analytical look. “You didn’t get up to anything too... unusual, did you?”

Mabel, caught between chewing and swallowing, managed to mumble through her full mouth. “Nope, nothing unusual at all! Just saw… dirt… and trees...”

Stan’s eyes narrowed slightly, not entirely convinced.

Dipper gave an awkward chuckle, clearly uncomfortable with the way Mabel answered the question. “No, really. We’re fine. Just had a few... challenges, but nothing we couldn’t handle.” He glances over to you, his eyes pleading for help.

Just as your fork pierced a slice of meatloaf, it slid off your fork and clattered to your plate. You cleared your throat and interject. “So! What were the two of you up to today?”

Ford and Stan seemingly buy into the switch in discussion, and the conversation shifted to less intense topics—like the latest gossip from town and upcoming events.

As the meal wound down, Stan cleared the table, grumbling good-naturedly about the absence of dessert, while Ford retreated to his laboratory with a napkin filled with jot down inspirations he found during dinner. The twins and you gathered into their bedroom, the comfortable space filled with the soft glow of a lamp.

Mabel, pulled out her knitting supplies and set up a cozy corner on her bed. Her fingers moved swiftly and skillfully, the rhythmic click of the knitting needles filling the room as she finished up the identical sweaters.

The tinkering sound of needles clicking together as they tied strings of yarn filled the room. Occasionally, the turn of pages from Dipper notebook and the soft murmurs beneath his breath would join along. You were busy rustling a random shopping bag filled with ribbons, stickers, markers, and plastic gift bags.

As she worked, she chatted animatedly, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. "So, what do you think we should give Stan and Ford? I mean, the sweaters are awesome, but we need something to go with them."

You sat cross-legged on the floor, organizing a small assortment of colorful ribbons, preparing to cut them, while Dipper lounged on Mabel’s bed beside her, flipping through a notebook filled with ideas. The room was warm, lit by a soft glow from a string of fairy lights draped across the walls.

“Okay, what about this?” Dipper began, his eyes brightening as he looked up. “I was thinking of setting up an outdoor spot with blankets, snacks, and a small fire pit. We could roast some marshmallows over a campfire and share stories under the stars.”

Mabel’s fingers never paused as she worked on the final touches of the sweater. She glanced up with a wide grin. “Ooo, sounds like someone’s trying to impress a certain someone,” she teased, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Hey, I can’t help it if I have great ideas,” Dipper shot back, feigning innocence. “Plus, I thought you loved s’mores, Mabel.”

His sister giggled, playfully nudging Dipper with her elbow. “Only if you don’t burn them like last time. Seriously, how do you mess up a marshmallow?”

“Hey, that fire was really unpredictable!” Dipper defended, turning towards you with a mock pout. “Back me up here, (Y/n).”

You laughed with Mabel, glad that their playful bickering was lifting everyone’s spirits. As Dipper looked at you with those wide, expectant eyes, you couldn’t help but tease him a little.

“Well, Dipper,” you began, tapping your chin, “I think you might have been a bit distracted... but not by the fire.” You smirked, enjoying the way his cheeks turned slightly pink. “But hey, it’s the thought that counts, right?”

Dipper rolled his eyes playfully. “You’re supposed to be on my side!”

Mabel snickered, nudging him. “Looks like you’ll have to redeem yourself with those s’mores, bro.”

You grinned, deciding to shift the conversation to your own idea. “Speaking of redeeming ourselves…” You reached into your backpack and pulled out a small glowing leaf you’d been keeping aside. “Hmmm… I wasn’t exactly prepared for Random Act of Kindness Day, but I did find these bioluminescent plants in the forest earlier. I thought it’d be nice to make glow-in-the-dark muffins with them.” You held up the leaf, its ethereal glow illuminating your face. “Plus, I’ll wrap them up in cute little bags tied with ribbons. It’ll be like giving them a piece of the forest night sky.”

Mabel’s eyes widened with excitement. “That’s so cool! Imagine the look on Stan and Ford’s faces when they see them!”

Dipper smiled, his earlier embarrassment forgotten. “Glowing muffins? Now that’s something they’ll never see coming. You always find a way to surprise me, you know that?”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” you replied with a wink.

Dipper’s face flushes red, but his grin widened. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

With that, the sound of crickets chirping in the night and the exhaustion of the day's adventure began to settle in. The soft rustling of leaves and the gentle sway of the curtains created a peaceful atmosphere. You could barely keep your eyes open, signaling that the gates of dreamland were opening wide. Slowly, the moon reached its peak in the sky, casting a silver glow over the room as the three of you tucked yourselves into bed. Mabel snuggled up alongside Waddles, her soft murmurs barely audible as she drifted off to sleep. You nestled into Dipper’s arms, feeling the comforting weight of his embrace. It was soft, warm, and familiar—everything you wanted it to be and more.

The soothing snores combined with the occasional creaks from the old floorboards, lulled you deeper into your dreams. The night passed peacefully, with the warmth of Dipper’s body against yours grounding you in the safety of the Shack.

When the first rays of the sun crept through the curtains, gently warming your face, you stirred awake. Groggily, you opened your eyes, allowing them to adjust to the dim room. As you rolled them around to moistened the socket, you felt the stare of another. Your gaze flickered over, finding yourself face-to-face with Dipper. His eyes were already open, a lazy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. As he noticed you waking up, his mouth parted slightly in a silent “oh.”

It seems like he’s been caught admiring you while your eyes were closed.

“Who’s the sleeping beauty now?” he teased, his smirked with amusement.

Your face softened as you mumbled something incoherent, not quite ready to leave the warmth of his embrace. You tucked yourself in further against his chest, the scent of pine and a hint of his laundry urged you to linger in the moment a little longer.

“What was that?” he asked, his voice a gentle rumble that echoed through his chest. His hand moved up to the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair in a soothing motion.

“Ugh,” you grumbled, feeling the warmth of his laughter vibrating against you. “You’re such a dork, Dippin’ Dots.”

He chuckled, the sound low and comforting. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You couldn’t help but laugh along with him, the soft morning light making everything feel a little bit more magical. Wrapped up in each other, the world outside the Shack felt like it could wait just a little longer.

Unfortunately, before you could fully bask in the peaceful morning, the door burst open with a loud bang. Mabel, brimming with energy, dashed into the room and leaped onto the bed, her laughter ringing out like a bell. "Rise and shine, lovebirds!" she declared, tugging at the blankets and yanking both you and Dipper out of bed.

"Mabel!" Dipper groaned, rubbing his eyes as he tried to resist her enthusiasm.

"No time for sleeping in! We've got a whole day of kindness to spread!" Mabel insisted, her voice filled with excitement. She grabbed your hands and pulled you both up, practically bouncing with eagerness. "Come on, come on! We’ve got a lot to set up before everyone arrives!"

As you stumbled out of bed, still shaking off the remnants of sleep, Mabel’s infectious energy was impossible to resist. After speed running your morning chores, the three of you quickly got to work, setting up the cozy outdoor spot Dipper had planned. Blankets were spread out, snacks arranged in baskets, and the small fire pit was prepared for marshmallow roasting later in the evening. Your cooled muffins were placed inside personalized bags set on a picnic table, each tied with a colored ribbon representing a person.

By the time Soos and Wendy arrived, they were tasked with the leftover decorations. The two of them shared their own acts of kindness. Soos, ever the handyman, had crafted personalized wooden trinkets for everyone, each one etched with a special memory he shared with the person. Wendy, with her cool and laid-back style, had put together a mixtape of everyone’s favorite songs, perfect for playing in the background as they all spent the day together.

You guys shared a casual chat, catching up on the missing times and events. You and Dipper were sitting on a log, blowing up balloons while Soos was balancing himself on a ladder, trying to hang up a banner.

Soos grinned broadly, his eyes shining with excitement. “Dudes, this is like, the most epic Random Act of Kindness Day ever! You guys really know how to throw a party. I’m totally gonna eat those glow-in-the-dark muffins later. They look like they’re straight out of a video game!” He rubs his stomach, almost stumbling a bit as he leans too far forward.

Wendy, leaning casually against a tree, nodded in agreement. “Yeah, you guys nailed it. This whole setup? Super chill vibes.”

She gave Dipper a playful wink, smirking. “You’ve got some serious planning skills, Pines. Maybe you should do this more often.”

“Haha…” Dipper shares a shy smile. He rubs the back of his neck, glad that his idea brought smiles and laughter. “Honestly, I couldn’t do this without you guys.”

Suddenly, you hear the distant sounds of voices approaching. With upturn eyes of delight, you gesture for everyone to get into position.

“Come on! Hurry! Hurry!” Mabel urged gleefully, practically bouncing on her toes as she tugged along Ford and Stan. Both men chuckled behind her, trying to keep up with their energetic niece.

Stan’s voice called out, full of warmth and curiosity. “Alright, alright, we’re coming! What’s all the fuss about?”

Ford, adjusting his glasses and grinning, added, “I have to admit, you’ve got my curiosity piqued. What’s this all about?”

The moment they rounded the corner, a burst of excitement awaited them. Dipper and Wendy blew party blowers with wide grins, while you and Soos threw handfuls of confetti into the air. Mabel let go to run over, joining you. “Surprise!” you all shouted in unison, your voices echoing through the clearing.

They stood there. Shocked. Stan’s eyes widened in delight as he took in the scene—an outdoor setup complete with blankets, snacks, and a small fire pit ready for marshmallow roasting. Ford’s stern expression softened, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Pausing for a moment as tears welled up in their eyes.

It seems like their hearts were soaring.

“Do you guys like it?!” Mabel exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with joy. “This is like the best surprise ever isn’t it?!”

Stan, ever the tough guy, tried to hide his emotion, but the gleam in his eyes gave him away. “You kids really went all out, didn’t ya?”

Ford nodded, looking genuinely touched. “Indeed. This is… quite something…”

Wendy laughed, giving Soos a high-five. “Aww guys!” She shoots finger guns at the old men. “Ford and Stan, you two deserve all this and more. It’s like you’ve got your own personal fan club now!” Gesturing at the scene, it really does seem like a party.

Stan chuckled, trying to keep his cool. “You know, I might have to admit this is one of the best surprises I’ve ever had. You kids really do know how to make a guy feel appreciated.” He seems to want to say something more.

Ford, noticing Stan’s struggle to find the right words, placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “It’s clear how much thought and care went into this. It’s not just about the gifts or the festivities—it’s about the thoughtfulness behind them.”

You all stood there, basking in the warmth of gratitude and love. It seems like no one knew what to do next.

Seeing the tender moment, you decided it was time to shift gears. With a spark of mischief in your eyes, you stepped forward and flashed a bright smile. “Alright, now that we’ve got the heartfelt stuff out of the way, how about you two join us in the fun? We’ve got games, music, and of course, lots of snacks. What do you say?”

Mabel’s grin widened as she picked up on your cue. “Yeah, we’ve got a whole evening planned. And trust me, it’s going to be a blast. Plus, we can listen to the tracks Wendy made!”

Soos literally jumped in, adding his own enthusiastic flair. “I call dibs on those marshmallows and muffins!”

With everyone now gathered around, the night sky glittering overhead, the mood was set for a cozy, celebratory evening. As the fire blazed wildly, its warm light dancing across everyone's faces, everyone sat down on the logs, ready to enjoy the festivities.

Time passes and everyone bellies began to bulge from sweets and treats. While the fire crackled, the group exchanged their gifts, and laughter filled the air. It seemed like Mabel hadn’t just made sweaters for her Grunkles; she had crafted identical ones for everyone! As you all shrugged on the bright green attire, it felt like you were part of a colorful, quirky family of green people.

Your glow-in-the-dark muffins were a hit as well. Everyone enjoyed the sweet flavor with a hint of tang. It even looked cool as they shone in the dark night. Though, you swore that Soos ate too many and his eyes began shining like flashlights.

Mabel leaned over, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she observed Soos. “Soos, are you sure you don’t have superpowers now? You’re looking pretty electrifying!”

Soos, trying to look serious but failing miserably as his eyes flickered like strobe lights, replied, “I dunno, Mabel. I didn’t realize these muffins came with a side of superpowers! If I keep eating them, I might start charging my phone just by standing near it.”

The group burst into laughter, the playful banter adding to the joy of the night.

Dipper chuckled, glancing over at you with a smirk. “Looks like you’ve got a new competition for the most glowing personality in Gravity Falls.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Well, at least we know Soos won’t be getting lost in the dark anytime soon. Just hope he doesn’t start glowing in his sleep!”

Lastly, Stan and Ford had their own acts and gifts to share. Stan handed out coupons with a large step forward and a flourish, proudly declaring, “Get ‘em while they’re hot! Free knick-knacks for everyone!”

Dipper had a stupid smile as he blankly looked at the coupon, and then stared at Grunkle’s Stan’s proud expression. “Wow… I am never going to use this.”

It seems like everyone simultaneously agrees silently as they shoved the piece of laminated paper into their pockets. As for Ford’s gift, Ford begins with a warm smile, “I wanted to add my own little touch to the evening.”

As Ford hands out the personalized stargazing charts, each one meticulously wrapped in celestial-themed paper, Stan unwraps his with a bemused expression. He glances at Ford, raising an eyebrow.

“Look at this,” Stan says with a playful smirk. “My brother, the ultimate nerd, giving us star maps. Did you expect us all to become astronomers overnight?” He nudges his twin brother until Ford’s glasses falls crooked to one side.

Ford adjusts his glasses, his smile unwavering. “Well, you don’t have to keep it, Stan. I just thought it was a nice touch to remember the night sky from a special day. There’s even a booklet with some fun facts and a few anecdotes.”

Stan chuckles, shaking his head but clearly touched by the gesture. “Sheesh! Alright, alright. Guess I’ll just have to figure out how to use this thing now.”

Silence falls upon everyone as they continues to admire their stargazing charts, murmuring interesting facts and observations they found. Stan suddenly brightens up with a mischievous glint in his eye. He clears his throat, preparing to deliver his punchline.

“Hey Ford,” Stan calls out, practically to no one as he faced forward, “Since you’re so into the stars now, I’ve got a joke for you. Why did the astronaut break up with his girlfriend?”

Ford seemingly wants to groan, but he smiles knowingly and curiously says. “I don’t know, why?”

“Because he needed space!” Stan says with a grin, clearly proud of his joke. He swings a hand to smack his knee loudly, clearly delirious by his own joke.

The group bursts into laughter, and even Ford can’t help but chuckle, shaking his head in mock exasperation.

Out the corner of your eye, you notice that on your chart there was the Big Dipper. Just as you reached out to trace it with your finger, the actual Dipper clears his throat beside you. He’s not directly looking at you as he asks, “Do you have a moment, (Y/n)?”

You tilt your head, curiosity piqued. “Sure! What’s up?”

He gestures with his thumb towards a secluded spot under a tree, away from the lively group. “Can I talk to you over there?”

You glance around and notice that no one seems to be paying attention to the two of you. They seem too caught up by Stan’s awful jokes. “Uhh… okay?” You follow him, slipping away from the laughter and chatter. As you walk, the warmth of the party fades, and the chilly night air makes you shiver. You pull your sweater closer, glad that it’s well knit to keep the cold out

Once you’re a few feet away from the group, Dipper takes a deep breath, clearly gathering his courage. The cool breeze rustles the leaves overhead, adding a subtle background to his nervous fidgeting. “So, um…” Dipper kicks a small rock with the tip of his shoe, his cheeks flushing slightly. “I got you something. I know it isn’t much, but I thought you might like it.”

He shyly pulls out a small, intricately crocheted keychain from behind his back. It features a charming mix of a crocheted Waddle, a tiny plastic pine tree, and a sparkling shooting star. Each piece combined to create a personalized keepsake that perfectly encapsulates the twins.

Dipper’s cheeks turn a deeper shade of red as he looks away, mumbling, “I thought it might be nice to have something to remind you of… well, of us.” He gestures to his sister and then himself.

You’re touched beyond words. You take a moment to admire the intricate details of the keychain, lifting it up to eye level, and feeling a rush of affection in your chest. It was like a bundle of nerves collecting into the pits of your stomach. “Thank you, Dipper. It’s perfect. I love it.”

His nervous smile softens into a genuine one as he meets your gaze. “I-It’s nothing. I’m glad you like it.” The tips of his cheeks and ears were lightly dusted with the shade of pink.

As you and Dipper make your way back to the party, you notice him glancing at you with a playful twinkle in his eye. “You know, (Y/n),” he begins with a smirk, “if you keep looking at that keychain with that much adoration, I might start getting jealous.”

You raise an eyebrow, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. “Oh, really? And why would you be jealous of a little keychain?”

Dipper chuckles, shrugging dramatically. “Well, it’s not every day that you get overshadowed by a tiny Waddles and a plastic shooting star. I’m starting to feel like I’m in the shadow of a bunch of craft supplies.”

You laugh, leaning closer to him. “Don’t worry, Dipper. You’re always the star of my show. Even if your competition includes a crocheted pig.”

Before Dipper can respond, Mabel’s voice rings out, cutting through the playful banter. ““Hey! You two lovebirds! Come here!” Maybel shouts enthusiastically. She’s jumping up and down with a camera in her hands to capture your attention.

You and Dipper glance at each other, your smiles widening. “Looks like we’re needed,” you say, taking his hand.

“Guess the star has to share the spotlight,” Dipper replies with a wink as you both head back to the group.

Mabel, standing in the middle of the gathered crowd with her camera, waves enthusiastically. “Come on, come on! Everyone gather around!”

You and Dipper make your way back to the campfire. Ford and Stan stand in the back behind a long, thick log, the former adjusting his glasses and the latter with his arms crossed, trying to look nonchalant but clearly enjoying the moment. Soos is to Stan’s right, grinning ear to ear, while Wendy crouches down to sit next to you, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

You take Dipper’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Ready for this?”

“Absolutely,” Dipper says with a grin, squeezing back as Mabel directs everyone.

“I’m going to take a picture! Everyone say, ‘Random Act of Kindness Day!’” Mabel calls out, setting the camera on the make-shift camera holder using yarn, popsicle sticks, and glitter. She tiptoed to start the three-second timer and as the seconds ticked down, she grabs Waddles, who happily snuggles in her arms with a loud oink, and rushes over to sit next to her brother.

One…

Ford flashes a rare hint of a smile while Stan grins from ear to ear. “Ever notice that posing for photos is like holding your breath? The longer you do it, the harder it is to remember why you’re smiling.” He mutters, though his eyes betrays a glimmer of delight despite his smile dropping momentarily.

Two…

You shoot him a look of concern. Man… and you thought Grunkle Ford was weird.

Three!

The camera flashes brightly, the sound of laughter and cheers filling the air as everyone enthusiastically shouts, “Random Act of Kindness Day!”

The photo prints out and gently falls onto the forest floor, the paper swaying slightly as the wind picks up. Mabel shoves Waddles into the secure arms of her brother, her shoes crunch on the fallen leaves as she leaves to eagerly picks up the photo, her smile wider than ever.

She waves the print triumphantly. “Another one for the scrapbook!” she exclaim.

You watch as Mabel’s excitement is mirrored by the rest of the group. With the photo safely in hand, she turns to show everyone, her enthusiasm infectious. They crowd around the jumping little girl, amused by their expressions or asking for a redo. Even Waddles is oinking excitedly as he wiggles out of Dipper’s embrace and runs around the group.

Soft brown hair touches the tip of your head as Dipper leans in closer to you, his voice low and playful. “So, how does it feel to be part of such a perfect day?” His eyes are twinkling.

You smile, leaning your head against his shoulder. “It feels pretty amazing. Especially with you by my side.”