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greenpurplemylove · 2 months ago

Text

What Lovers Do (PJS)♥️

→ masterlist.

→ pairings: non idol! situationship! jay x female! reader.

synopsis: There was only one thing left to do when two friends finally confess that they like each other after all the endless chasing about and beating around the bush. Though it wasn't like how it traditionally went, like on a bed or in a fancy hotel room. You and Jay knew it would be wasteful to go back to yours or his apartment, not when the view of the beach at 02:00 AM in the morning hits different.

→ genre: friends to lovers! smut, and fluff. -> now playing: Diet Pepsi, Addison Rae/Forrest Gump, Frank Ocean.

-> wc: 5,8k

warnings: SMUT, swearing, car sex, car sex by the beach, dom! jay x sub! slightly switch! reader, slight cockwarming, riding, unprotected sex (wrapeth t bef're thee tapeth t), creampie, fingering, mutual masturbation, mentions of skinny dipping and pet names (baby, pretty girl, darling).

-> A/N: after a season of midterms, a breakup and a series of procrastinations later, I've finally completed the last chapter. good news is y'all don't rly have to read part 1 dan part 2 (but if you want to, I'd say be my guest honestly) to understand what's going on in this story cause this is like smut with very little plot. this is my first smut ever so anyways I'm rly sorry if it isn't perfect, nonetheless I do hope y'all enjoy it though. much love, Cher🫶

♥️

Seeing two people being in denial that they’re actually obsessed with each other is frustrating.

Especially if those two people are practically close friends.

Take you and your friend, Park Jongseong, for example.

You’ve been friends with Park Jongseong since freshman year of college.

Maybe it was due to the fact that your friend groups were practically mushed together and that you’d more often than not end up in the same class he was taking.

With what originally started with strictly exchanging the notes you took during class, slowly melted away into long and deep texts, conversations, even playful arguments about each others pasts and interests.

But what he didn’t know was that you’ve always secretly admired him.

At first you didn’t want to think the admiration you had for him was romantic, but overtime it grew difficult for you to maintain a merely platonic admiration.

He was a nice guy you have to admit, and the fact that he was practically gorgeous made things all the more difficult for you in maintaining that so called ‘platonic’ gaze.

And it didn’t help with the fact that he was such a gentleman to you as well.

Always opened doors for you.

Paying extra attention towards you whenever you needed his help.

And always letting you order first whenever you needed to go somewhere for lunch in between classes.

Even offering to pay for your meals.

It was difficult. Very difficult, for you to not fall for him.

You find yourself looking at him from afar with rose tinted glasses, your day got a little brighter every time the two of you exchanged glances and smiles,

your heart would skip a beat every time his name was mentioned in any given situation,

and most importantly, you wanted to be near him all the time.

Naturally, you grew closer to him.

Overtime it felt strange, how you noticed his smile seemed to linger longer whenever he was looking in to you so deeply,

or how close your bodies were whenever you’d talk to him for an extended period of time.

The questions started to beckon in your head, was this his way of flirting with you?

And to answer that question. Yes, yes it was.

The reason being none other than because he has a crush on you. But being the outwardly cold person that he is, he didn’t wanted to admit that.

Cause there’s a small part of him that was a little scared you wouldn’t feel the same way he did.

He’d look at you from afar and a small smile would creep onto his face.

He would think about how pretty you looked on that day before he fell asleep at night.

And you’d be the first person that comes to his mind the moment he opens his eyes the next morning.

He would pay extra attention to the things you liked and didn’t like. Memorizing your favorite lunch order. Always saving a seat for you next to him.

Always saving an extra gum in his bag because he knows you’d sometimes forget to bring yours to class,

and that he knows you have this bad habit of chewing the cap of your pen in the middle of class whenever you forgot to bring in your gum.

Mind you he also initially wanted to keep things platonic in fear of ruining the bond you’ve pretty much grown into overtime, but it was hard to keep those feelings at bay when you’re always so close to him.

After a while of teasing, lingering smiles, and small flirtatious gestures. You both were still in denial if wether or not the feeling was mutual.

It wasn’t until one drunk night at Sunghoon’s house, where you basically made out and almost had sex with him on Sunghoon’s upstairs couch that made you realize that you both felt the same way about each other.

Well, knowing he didn’t push you away when you were practically sitting on his lap and guiding his hand up your shirt and all.

After that night you both knew you couldn’t just pretend that it never happened,

so, stupidly enough, the two of you kept on teasing each other for a little while.

Hinting bits and pieces of your private lives, purposefully making the other jealous in hopes that the other would confess first because the both of you were stubborn as hell about your feelings.

When the both of you know fully well, you would be down to fuck from dusk to dawn.

It felt like playing a chess game with Jay during those times.

A romantic, for the most parts sexual tension filled game of chess with Jay.

And yet all the games, all the strategies, plans and moves you had all up in your head with Jay has led you here.

Half naked on his lap in his car by the beach at 2 AM, with his lips messily clinging to yours.

Both of your cheeks flushed. Breaths heavy as the windows started to fog. With his hands fondling with your bare breasts.

Your arms clinging onto his shoulders for dear life as your both tongue deep into the kiss.

You both knew at one point it’ll all lead up to this.

But that never stopped either one of you from pushing the boundaries of your ‘friendship’ more and more.

From the longing stares and touches across the hallways to the private moments that had you on the edge of your seat.

All of those moments has led you here, with your body sensually placed on top of his.

“Jay.” you moaned his name softly when you felt his thumb swiping against your hardened nipples as he trailed kisses from your jaw before nipping the back of your ear.

He felt his pants getting tighter by the minute, his dick growing hard at the sound of you moaning his name.

His hands traveled lower and lower down your pants as his palms settled on your ass making you gasp silently, while his mouth travelled down to your neck.

Kissing and sucking on it feverishly as if he was pouring all of his pent up desire to you after all this time.

“So pretty for me y/n.” he whispered against your neck, leaving a light trail of hickeys down your neck as your fingers caressed the back of his hair before trailing to the hem of his shirt.

Sneakily putting your fingers below the hem just to feel his bare skin against the palm of your hand.

You could feel his lips curl into a smirk against your neck as he pulled away, a playful smirk plastered onto his face as he sat up straight.

His hands trailed down to the bottom hem of his shirt but not before your hands replaced what was supposed to be his.

He looked at you surprised by your boldness as you took of his shirt, the muscles on his chest and arms contorting as you did,

feeling the tent that was forming in your panties grow wetter as you discarded his shirt to the side.

The sound of the ocean behind you long blurred into the background as he smiled up at you, caressing your thighs as he watched your every move.

Leaning back onto the chair behind him, your fingers caressed the abdomen of his chest,

feeling his chest rising and falling as his honey like skin emitted an inviting glow under the moonlight.

Your finger trailed lower and lower, from his toned stomach to the buckle of his belt,

lacing your fingers on to it.

You wanted to remove his belt from his pants, that was until his hand held yours, stopping you from going any further.

“I think I can handle that y/n.” he spoke in a sultry tone as he eyed your fingers, caressing them gently before undoing his belt.

Your hands then trailed slowly from the fabric under his belt, to the fabric that covered his prominent bulge.

Purposefully teasing him as you traced your fingers around his bulge.

His breath hitched in his throat as he leaned his head back and sighed, feeling your fingertips undressing his pants.

“I thought couples help take their partners clothes off when they’re gonna have sex?” you murmured as you flashed him a smirk.

“Oh, so we’re a couple now?” he teased, grinning at you flirtatiously.

You sighed in disbelief as you rolled your eyes.

You knew he was the type of person who’d tease from time to time, but you never thought he’d tease you at a time where you were completely vulnerable to him.

“Are you really gonna tease me at a time like this?” you whispered as your lips curl into a small sly smile while your fingers caressed his hair.

He smiled at you before he sat up straight, cupping your cheeks as he captured your lips in his.

Passion surging over you as your hands wrapped around his neck, taking his lips in deeper.

His hands soon trailed down from your body to your hips, giving it a firm squeeze before trailing his fingers to the button of your pants,

unbuttoning it and gently, stripping it off of your body as your purple lacy underwear came into view.

Pulling away from your lips, his eyes soon caught the attention of your undergarments,

pupils dilating as his fingers traced the hem of it, groaning as his eyes rolled back as your hips came down to grind on his clothed cock.

Purple. His favorite color.

Whether you intentionally wore it for him or out of pure coincidence, it made him incredibly harder than he already was before.

So hard that his pants felt uncomfortable against his now fully hardened cock.

But he knew better than to rush this moment like a casual hook up.

This was his crush. The women he’d fawn over since freshman year.

His close friend. Y/N.

He knew what you like and what you didn’t like from the back of his head,

from all the times you’ve told him stories about your casual hook ups every now and then.

He’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t go home most nights feeling jealous of how other guys could touch you so undeservingly,

at other nights he spent dreaming of how much he could fuck you better than any other guy,

and at some nights the jealousy and all the pent up feelings he had for you brewed to such intensity that he had no other option than to fist his cock in the shower,

thinking about fucking you all to himself.

And here you finally were, on top of him; your hands gripping onto his shoulders, your cheeks flushed as you turned away rather shyly,

your bare breasts all in display for him and your soaked pussy just inches away from his clothed cock.

All for himself.

It was like a wet dream come true to him.

Lust dipped into his pupils as he caressed the band of your panties,

staring in awe at the lacy fabric at hand before setting the band aside, revealing your already drenched cunt.

He groaned at the sight of it. Wanting nothing more than to stuff your pussy full of his cock.

Feeling his dick twitch uncomfortably in his slacks, he lifted his hips as he stripped down his trousers,

feeling himself grow impatient at the sight of your slick glisten, barely an inch from his thighs.

Leaving his pants bare on the floor of his backseat before dipping his fingers in between your drenched folds.

You sighed and bit your lip as a response. Turning away rather shyly.

His fingers soon laced on to your chin, forcing you to look at him.

It felt like time had slowed as he looked at you, his mouth opened, his lips puffy, and his gaze intense as he eyed you lustfully.

He had wanted, yearned for you even for so long, and now you were finally his.

There was nothing more he could’ve asked for in this moment.

He eyed your expression as he continued rubbing your folds, eyes closed and lips swollen from all the kissing and bitting,

he gradually slid his middle finger in back and forth, but not enough to satisfy how much you wanted him to touch you.

“Jay, please,” you exhaled as you eyed the motion of his fingers, holding onto the back of the front seat for support.

He caressed you so sensually, feeling the pleasure surging at the pit of your stomach,

it drove you almost insane on top of him. “don’t tease me.”

“I won’t baby.” he cooed as his other fingers moved from your chin to your hips,

his thumb rubbing circles on your clit as your mouth opened in pleasure.

The new nickname felt foreign to your ears, but nonetheless it made your pussy throb just for him.

“Jay,” you moaned lowly, gripping onto his arm.

Dipping his finger into you, you rolled your eyes back and bit your bottom lip, gently tugging on his hair,

feeling yourself melting into his touch as your hips thrusted slowly, almost in sync with the movement of his fingers.

He sighed, leaning his head back against the seat as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, feeling his cock twitch at the sight.

His fingers went in and out deep inside you, curling at you in all the right spots as the band of your panties grew wet from your slick cascading down his fingers.

Your face flushed, hips circling his fingers like a pretty doll as he looked at how drenched his finger were from slipping in and out of your walls.

He smirked up at you, enjoy seeing his effect on you.

It made him feel in control and powerful, subtly feeding his ego,

taking pride in how easy it was to have you squirming around his fingers.

Lifting his back towards you, pressing your lips onto his into a clingy hot mess of a kiss.

Slipping another finger inside of you, you moaned into the kiss as he used it as an opportunity to slip his tongue inside of your mouth, never giving you a moments rest.

Feeling your hardened nipples softly grazing against his collarbones, he groaned into the kiss adding to the sensation as your hips moved clockwise against his thumb on your clit.

Kissing you oh so passionately, you tugged on his hair before pulling away from your lips, a string of saliva connecting your tongues.

You were rilled up, your soft messy thrust turned precise and angled, almost as if you were waiting for the right moment to return the favor.

And you did so, as you laced your fingers onto the band of his boxers before beckoning him to lift his hips.

He raised an eyebrow at you as the tips of his lips curled, eyeing you curiously as he removed his fingers from your throbbing cunt making you whine silently,

missing the feeling of his fingers around you already as he gripped your waist.

Lifting his hips, he lets you slip your fingers onto the band of his boxers before pulling them down,

just enough to let his hardened cock sprung free from constraint.

Your eyes trailed from tip to the base of his cock, eyes dazed and mouth dry.

The mushroom tip of his dick flushed. A single thick vein trickled down from the bridge to the base of his cock.

He was definitely big.

Not the biggest you’ve ever seen, but he was definitely big enough to have your stomach doing backflips.

All the excitement and nervous tension trickled down onto your cunt, feeling the throbbing sensation swell as you held your breath in for a moment.

Licking your lips at the sight of it, you continued to strip down his pants until they were well past his ankles as he threw them off to the side.

“Like what you see?” he smirked up at you as he firmly held your waist.

“Don’t get cocky Jongseong.” you teased back, a smile creeped onto your face as you leaned closer to him before capturing your lips onto his.

He gripped your hair gently as he leaned your head to the side, deepening the kiss.

Your hands were all over his body, caressing his toned chest and washboard abs as your fingers trailed lower and lower while he sneaks his tongue back into your mouth,

letting out a groan as your thumb caressed dangerously close to the base of his cock.

The kiss soon grew rough and passionate as your tongues intertwined, his shaft grazing against your clit,

pulsating into a frenzy as his hands groped your ass, kneading them roughly all the while his nails were digging into your skin, making your breath hitch at your throat.

“Y/n.” he moaned out as he pulled away from you, feeling the pleasure coursing through out his body.

Rolling his eyes and throwing his head back onto the seat as he watched you, grinding your soaked folds onto his length.

His tip grew red as precum started to leak from his shaft.

“Shit.” he cursed lowly to himself as he eyed the sight in front of him hungrily.

The view in front of him was better than any wet dream he’s ever had of you.

Your fingers pressed against his cock as you grinded your folds against his dick.

Your slick wetting the bridge of his cock as you grind on him up and down, your other hand gripping onto his thigh for dear life as you balanced yourself on top of him.

You were insatiable.

He knew sex wasn’t a new thing for you, but never in his wildest dreams he’d see you like this with his own eyes.

A flushed mess, eyes closed, your bottom lip tucked as you held back your moans while you grind your folds against his cock,

holding yourself back from sinking fully onto his dick when he knows you so desperately want to.

So sweet yet so sinful, your moans and movements were a lingering sugar like addiction to him as he watches you slowly lose yourself on his cock.

And he hasn’t even put his dick inside you yet.

“Tell me what you want.” he whispered as his nails dug into your waist, hands moving in sync with the movement of your hips, guiding it gently as you swayed your hips in a rhythmic pace against his cock.

Your vision grew hazy as you looked at him, blinking once as your eyes were instantly set on his,

his gaze spilling with lust and desire as he looked at you through his hooded eyelids, face flushed,

his lips pink and plump as they formed an ‘o’ shape, exhaling breathlessly as he eyed you so intensely.

His fingers soon replaced yours, holding back his length against your pussy,

watching you soak the bridge of his cock with your throbbing cunt.

You couldn’t take the teasing you inflicted on him anymore, you wanted him inside of you.

You wanted, needed to feel his dick pulsating inside of you.

You needed him.

“Jongseong, please, I wanna ride your dick.” you whined breathlessly as you continued to grind on him, knowing you still wanted to be good for him despite your desperation.

He cursed at himself, your words stripped him bare into utter desire as his fingers laced on to the band of your panties,

stripping them off your body before shoving them to the side as every patience he had in his body melted away into only anticipation, lust and desire.

“Ride me then y/n,” he spoke in a sultry tone as he looked at you through his half lidded eyes, while his hand grasped onto the base of his shaft,

angling his tip onto your entrance, “I’m all yours.”

Goosebumps erupt in your skin as he spoke those words, electrifying the feeling in your stomach as you positioned his tip at your entrance,

lifting your hips, you planted your forehead against his as you slowly started sinking down onto his cock.

Your eyes screwed shut and your mouth hung loose at the sensation as he did the same.

It was right then and there you realized that you’ve underestimated how big he was from the outside as his cock filled you to the brim of your walls.

Stretching you out oh so heavenly as he caressed the sides of your body as an attempt to sooth you while you adjusted yourself to his length.

“Shit.” you cursed as your eyes rolled back and nails dug onto his back.

“Holy fuck, you’re taking me so good y/n.” he spoke as his hands trailed down onto your waist, eyes rolling back and mouth opened the moment you started circling your hips around his dick.

Heavy breaths and strings of moans fogged the windows as you started to slowly bounce on his cock.

His dick filling you up to the brim every time you sank down fully onto him.

The way he was stretching you out felt so heavenly, you wanted more of it. You wanted more of him.

“Shit you’re big.” you whispered in between your moans as you buried your face on the crook of his neck.

The complement fueled his ego as he smirked with pride before being cut short as he groaned, feeling you starting to clamp down on his dick.

The hands that was once your waist, trailed down onto your ass as he gripped them gently making you let out a loud moan,

as his hands started to match with the rhythm of your hips.

His cock twitched at the feeling of your drenched velvety walls soaking his dick. Feeling your slick dripping down his balls.

“Holy shit Jay fuck.” you leaned your head back as your eyes rolled back,

His head dipped down at the sight of your pussy sinking down onto his dick as you lifted your hips,

revealing the sight of his drenched cock before taking him in you again rather eagerly.

“Shit, you feel so fucking good.” he groaned as he fondled with your ass making you moan his name as you continued taking in his dick like it was your last.

Where have you been all his life?

How could he have been stupid enough to not confess his feelings sooner?

A little part of him can only swirl in regret as he watches you bounce on his cock. Flushed. Dazed. And fueled with lust.

Wishing he could’ve pursued you sooner, knowing how good your slick walls felt wrapped around his dick.

“Look at me.” he whispered as you wince onto his shoulders from the overwhelming feeling of his dick stretching your walls,

picking up your pace as you moaned his name making him sigh as he relished himself on the overwhelming pleasure.

He cursed to himself before gently cupping his hand onto your cheek, forcing you to look at him.

“Look at me y/n.” he whispered a little louder as you looked at his hooded eyes.

Holy fuck he’s never looked so hot.

The strands of his hair laced with sweat as his eyes pierced through them like a knife through a curtain, looking into you like you were his favorite pornstar.

His mouth forming an ‘o’ shape as groans, murmurs and profanities slipped pass his lips as you were bouncing on his dick like there was no tomorrow.

He leaned his head back against the seat, bitting his lips as he feels your slick dripping down his balls.

The occasional ‘fuck’s and ‘holy shit’s slipped pass your lips as you rolled your eyes back, head leaned back while your palms were pressed against his toned chest.

The feeling of his length filling you in and out hits you like a tidal wave as you feel the knot in your stomach tighten.

His hands moved to caress the sides of your body, eyeing you lustfully. “So pretty for me,”

“so fucking pretty for me.” he groaned as he fondled your breasts making you moan his name rather loudly at the already overwhelming pleasure.

Your walls clenched around him as your thrusts started to fall out of rhythm, turning sloppier by the second as your sigh and moans grew heavier.

“Tired y/n?” he asked as he cupped your cheek, receiving a weak nod from you as you bit your lip.

“That’s alright baby, I’ll take it from here.” he spoke softly as his fingers trailed to your hips, guiding you to spread your legs a little wider across the seat as you leaned forward,

feeling your chest pressed against his and his lips lingering over your ear, he started kissing and sucking on your neck,

making you close your eyes in pleasure as you succumb to the feeling of his tongue lapping against your neck.

A string of moans and profanities lingered from your lips as you felt him thrusting upwards into your pussy in a slow rhythmic pace.

You feel the air around you grew impossibly thicker as you breathed heavily.

His name slipped from your lips like a mantra, feeling his cock graze near your spot as he place open-mouth kisses against your collarbone and your fingers gripped onto his shoulders for dear life as the sound of the ocean waves creeped onto the back of your ear.

You let out a loud moan as you felt his thrusts grazed onto your spot, your hand that was on his shoulder slitted upwards onto his scalp, tugging on his hair gently as he moaned your name.

“Fuck, Jay, right there.” you moaned quietly into his ear as a small smirk creeped onto his face.

“Right there huh?” he spoke lowly in a playful, almost teasing tone. Gripping onto your hips so tightly as he thrusted onto your spot repeatedly making you cling onto his shoulder,

whimpers and loud moans of his name being the only thing leaving your lips as you no longer cared about the world outside of his car.

Though it was unlikely at this hour, if someone were to catch a glimpse of his car, they would’ve caught on to what was going on inside pretty quickly.

The car was shaking, it was almost in the middle of nowhere and the windows were fogged from the inside shut, covering the both of you from sight.

Though the both of you didn’t seem to care anyways. Too lost in each others presence to care about the world moving along outside of your own.

You nodded as you bit your lip, earning a groan from him as he leaned his head back onto the seat, fondling your ass as profanities slipped pass your lips.

“Shit, Jay!” you cursed as his thrusts grew rougher, hitting your spot over and over again, feeling the knot in your stomach grew impossibly tighter as he fucked you harder.

“Fuck y/n, you feel so good.” he moaned, feeling his grip on your hips tighten as you were certain that there would be bruises afterwards.

“Fuck, Jay.” you repeated his name as your nails tugged onto the blades of his shoulders. Feeling yourself growing closer to your high.

His sharp gaze pierced through the strands of his hair as his mouth hung opened and his eyebrows furrowed, completely lost in the feeling of chasing his own high.

“Tell me what you want.” he groaned lowly as his lips ghosted over your ear. The tone of his voice grew desperate and needy, almost whiny as he felt himself inching closer to his orgasm.

His words were only met with your moans and whines as he felt himself left unsatisfied.

You gasped as you felt his hand suddenly coming down onto your ass rather harshly, feeling your slick drip further down the base of his cock as a result.

“I said, tell me.” he reprimanded as his hand came down onto your ass again, but this time in between his sentences.

You feel yourself becoming flustered at his words, almost too shy to answer his lewd request.

It wasn’t until you felt his dick completely leaving your cunt that made you widen your eyes.

Whining at the loss of your orgasm.

All of a sudden, his lips latched onto your neck as he started sucking and bitting rather harshly making you let out a whine.

“Jay, don’t-” you whined as you tried to position his cock at your entrance, until his hands gripped your hips, completely halting you from reaching your high.

“I’m not letting you,” he whispered in your ear as he licked a stripe up your neck making you let out a moan. “if you don’t tell me what you want.”

At this point you were desperate. Almost too desperate to reach your high. You were willing to do whatever he wanted, just so that you can cum on his dick.

“Shit, I want you Jay.” you whispered as you caressed his toned abs, resulting in him letting out a groan.

You let out a whine as you felt his thumb caressing your slit, fueling the knot in your stomach that was bound to snap at any given moment.

“Please, wanna cum on your dick.” you practically begged, succumbing yourself to his touch.

A smirk plastered on his face as he looked up at you from your neck before positioning his cock at your entrance.

A moan left your lips as you felt his hands guiding your hips to bounce on his cock.

“Tell me again y/n, what do you want?” he asked as you moaned out his name, feeling his cock thrusting into you deeper as he synced his thrusts with your bounces.

Circling your clit faster, hitting your spot rougher and deeper, that you can only moan out in pleasure and desperation.

“Wanna cum, fuck, wanna cum on your dick Jay, please.” you whined as your high came closer and closer with each given thrust and bounce of your hips.

You yelped as his thrust grew faster, animalistic almost. His eyebrows knitted in concentration as his mouth hung opened and his eyes closed shut,

too focused on getting you to cum, too focused on the feeling of how good your pussy was clenching around his dick.

“Shit Jay, gonna cum, wanna cum on your dick.” so close, you felt so close to reaching your high as the knot in your stomach was bound to snap at any moment.

“Cum for me, cum for me y/n.” his words were your undoing. Your mouth hung opened as you feel your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave of pleasure.

Your head leaned back as you moaned out his name, back arching at the intensity of the feeling as your bounces grew sloppier and sloppier.

He sighed as he pulled himself out of you before pumping his dick in front of you, trying to reach his own orgasm.

You didn’t know what came over you as you’re hand swiped across the foggy glass before pinning both of his arms behind his head,

leaving him to look at you speechless as one of your hands trailed down onto his cock and you positioned him on top of your entrance.

”Fuck y/n, what are you doing?” he asked as he looked at you bewildered, you bend down onto his ear as you whispered to him sensually.

“Want you to cum inside me.” he can only moan at your words as his chest breathed heavily. He smiled tiredly as he looked at you.

This was definitely better than any wet dream he’s ever had of you.

"Shit y/n are you sure?" he asked as he raised his eyebrows at you, his eyes widening, second guessing your actions.

"I don't want you to feel like I'm forcing you to do any-" his words were then cut off by your lips as you closed the distance between your lips and his in abandon.

"I want you to." you spoke as you pulled away, smiling softly at him making him sigh, a grin plastered on to his face.

“Go on then, don't let me stop you any longer.” he spoke softly as he moaned, eyes rolling back as he feels you sinking down onto him once more.

Your hand was still pinning his hands down as you started bouncing on his dick faster as he relished on the feeling of your pussy clenching on his dick.

“Oh fuck y/n I’m gonna cum.” he moaned out as his eyebrows furrowed. “Fuck wanna paint your fucking insides so fucking bad.”

You felt so fucking incredible around him. Clenching around him in all the right places with his dick buried into your hilt.

His eyebrows knitted at the sensation. Already so close to his edge.

The feeling of you alone could make him cum.

“Cum in me then, give it to me.” The way you were already pinning him down and the way you were riding him so good was enough to make him oh so close to reaching his high,

but your words sent him over the edge as his back arched and his thrusts met your bounces.

You moaned his name rather loudly as you felt his cum filing up your pussy.

A string of curses and moans followed as you both rode out his high.

The thrusts that were once harsh and rough, soon turned sloppy as you felt his cum painting your walls.

“Shit.” you cursed as you breathed heavily, finally spent.

You settled on his lap for a moment before slipping yourself out of him, his arms guiding you to lay on top of him comfortably.

Your heavy breathes mingled with each other as he snook a glance at your cunt. You sighed as he guided you to lean back, exposing your pussy to him.

“Fuck.” he cursed as he saw a bit of his cum oozing out of you.

Using his thumb he pushed back the cum back into you, a small sigh left your lips as he did so.

“Wouldn’t want that to go to waste.” he spoke as he smiled at you. You smiled back at him as the both of you started to chuckle at your disheveled states.

“You look handsome.” you spoke as you pushed some of the strands of hair on his forehead, before cupping his cheeks as he chuckled,

the blush on his face prominent as ever post-sex.

“You look beautiful y/n.” he smiled as he hugged your waist earning a giggle from you, before taking your lips in his as the kiss soon melted into passion.

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strang3lov3 · 3 months ago

Text

Downpour

Jack offers you a ride home, pulls over to wait out the storm, and fucks you. (4k)

Tags - smut, fingering, oral (f! receiving) hand jobs, unprotected piv, infidelity (Jack is married still), dirty talk, pet names (darling, sweetie, sweetheart, dear), unspecified age gap, kissing, finger sucking, bit of comeplay/come eating, reader has a bush but is otherwise undescribed #bushnation, Jack is all sweet and tender but kinda pervy too, i've headcannoned that mr. delroy is a man who comes a lot. like just so much come. references to late night with the devil but this fic can be understood without watching the movie, I write car sex uniquely in that I am not bound by physics or logic or any bullshit like that. So it’s like a Mary Poppins bag in there. Lots of room for fucking. No, don’t ask questions. Shhh. Don’t worry about it. Fic Help - @noxturnalpascal thanks for your help sweetheart ♡ i love you forever A/N - the David Dastmalchian brain worms infected me months ago and have not let me rest, so here’s this. Car sex with an older and married Jack Delroy.

I feel a little nervous about writing Jack, as I feel with all characters that are new to me. It takes me some time to find my groove. Kind comments would be appreciated 💕 maybe a prompt or two in the inbox for me to play around with if you wanna see more of him 🙏

As Night Owls comes to a close for the evening, and laughter and chatter begin to fade out, you busy yourself tidying up your station. Cleaning your makeup brushes, packing away your supplies for the weekend. You watch the television in your room and see Jack waving goodbye, shaking audience members’ hands. He’s so handsome tonight. He’s handsome every night.

You’ve been working as a makeup artist on Night Owls for about a year now. It’s a job you kind of stumbled your way into. You had won a raffle ticket to watch Night Owls live show. You were so excited to go and yet you don’t even remember who the guest was that night. You went alone, and found yourself charmed by the show’s host, Jack Delroy. While on commercial break, while the television crew changed the set, you noticed Jack glancing at you as you touched up your makeup, fidgeting and tapping his foot. You offered him a kind smile, and he approached you.

“Jack Delroy,” he said, holding out his hand. You took it, and he kissed the backs of your fingertips. Starstruck, you giggled and gave him your name, tripping over the syllables. “Beautiful name, darling.”

“Thank you, Mr. Delroy.”

Jack held your hand longer than what was appropriate. Realizing this, he quickly dropped it. “So, I apologize, but I'm about to be very forward. Gosh, this is very embarrassing,” he laughed awkwardly, then scratched the back of his neck. “I get a little oily in the face. The lights, you know. You wouldn’t happen to have like, a…” he trailed off, stuttering as he tried to find the right words.

You smiled and held up a finger, then dug through your makeup bag for some Mary Kay Beauty Blotter sheets your friend had given you. “Here.” You held the pack sheets out for the handsome talk show host. “Would these help?”

Jack took the sheets from you and inspected them.

“And this,” you added, handing him your mirror compact. “You just press one of the sheets against your skin.”

Jack grinned kindly, then took one of the small sheets and pressed it on his forehead and his long, gorgeous nose. “You are a lifesaver,” he said. “There. This is much better. I’m almost as pretty as you now, huh?”

Your cheeks warmed and you looked down at your lap to hide your smile.

“Apologies, I’ve been told I'm a chronic flirt.”

“I don’t really mind,” you told him softly.

Jack pressed his lips together in a smile and nodded, then sat in the empty seat next to you. “Alright,” he said, “This is an odd question, but I’d like to toss it out there anyway because you seem to know what you’re doing with this kind of stuff. We’re short a makeup artist here at Night Owls. It’s unorthodox, I know, but you wouldn’t happen to be interested in–”

You gasp. “I’d love to. Yes.”

“--Being our makeup artist,” Jack finished, chuckling at your excitement.

“Sorry, I just - oh god, I’d really love to,” you gushed. Jack opened his mouth to speak further, but was called back to set.

“Stick around after the show, will you?” Jack winked.

“I will, Mr. Delroy.”

And that’s how it happened. The job was simple: A little powder here, moisturizer there, hairspray to seal it all off. Nothing complicated, and it paid well. Lots of perks and advantages, like meeting TV stars and music artists. You consider yourself lucky.

Perhaps your favorite part of the job is getting Jack ready for his shows. You’re no stranger to his handsomeness, but it’s special to experience it the way you do. To wash his face, moisturize it, paint a little makeup on his skin - as if he even needs it. “Make sure you cover up my crows feet, please, darling,” Jack said, pointing to his perceived flaws in the mirror. “Gosh, I’m getting so old. Don’t get old.”

“Noted,” you told him.

“And my hair, could you use a bit of that makeup to cover up my grays? They look so much worse on the screen.”

Your heart broke a little. He’s always asked you to cover his wrinkles, but covering his grays was new. You hate doing it. That’s your least favorite part of the job.

“Oh, but they don’t look so bad, Mr. Delroy.” You combed your fingers through his hair, inspecting the silvery strands he complained about. They look so beautiful against the inky black rest of his hair.

“Jack,” he corrected. “Just Jack. Who says they don’t look so bad?”

“I um…” you hummed, nervously messing with his hair. “Just fans, some of your fans kind of like it.”

“Do they, now?” Jack teased, his eyebrow cocked. He laughed at your bashfulness as you stuttered something in defense. So shy, so sweet.

Jack loves you all the same. He loves the special affection he gets from you as you get him ready each night, he loves getting to peek down your shirt. But he plays the gentlemanly act well, never going further than a little harmless flirting. It’s fun to make you squirm, tease you for your little crush on him. He’s not oblivious to it.

When the Night Owls theme finally ends and the studio lights go out, you get a phone call at your station. You hold the receiver up to your ear. “Hello?”

“It’s Shar,” the voice says. Sharon is your roommate, and also your ride to and from work most nights. She drops you off at the studio before her shift, then picks you up after the show ends each night. Tonight, however, she’s at a party. “I met this guy, and I wanna go home with him. So that means…” Sharon doesn’t finish the sentence. She sounds guilty.

“But you’re my ride, Shar,” you complain. “And they’re saying it’ll rain. What am I gonna do?”

“I promise I’m gonna make it up to you, okay? Don’t be mad. You’re not mad.”

“Sharon,” you groan.

Sharon says your name. “Just listen - he’s so fucking hot, seriously. He’s like a movie star.”

“A movie star, huh?”

“Don’t judge. Like you wouldn’t fuck Jack Delroy if you could. You know what, why don’t you ask him for a ride?” Sharon teases.

“No way, not happening. He’s married, and his wife is sick. Absolutely not.”

“Pussy.” Sharon pauses. “If you really don’t have another way home, I’ll come get you.”

“No, no. It’s fine. I can take the bus, I guess. But you owe me.”

“I do owe you,” Sharon says, “I owe you so much. I love you. Bye. Be safe.”

“You be safe,” you quip. “Condoms.”

Honestly, you’re not mad. Is it an inconvenience, sure. But Sharon works hard and deserves a nice night, and she’s right - you’d fuck your movie - television - star crush if you could too. You’ve taken the bus before, and it’s usually empty this time of night. It’ll be fine.

You grab your purse, pull your knit cardigan over your torso and walk out of the studio, down the hall, then take the elevator down to the lobby. Through light rain, you walk down the street until you’re at a bus station, then sit down on the bench. A gust of wind nearly knocks you over, causing you to shiver and pull your cardigan tighter around your body as you wait for the bus.

At least you don’t have to wait for long, though. Headlights approach, and the vehicle slows down. Except, it’s not the bus you were expecting. It’s a cerulean ‘74 Buick Electra, Jack’s car. He pulls over and leans across the seat to crank the window down. “What the hell are you doing out here?”

“Waiting for the bus,” you yell. Rain’s starting to come down harder, now, soaking your clothes. Jack makes a face and motions for you to get into his car. You wave him off, “It’s okay. It shouldn’t be much longer.”

“Nonsense! Get in the car.”

“It’s really okay, Mr. Delroy.”

Jack rolls his eyes. He gets out of his car and rounds the front of it, then takes your hand and pulls you up from the bench. “I’m not asking. I am telling you, as your boss, to get in my car.”

Jack opens the passenger door and ushers you inside, then shuts your door and gets into the driver’s seat. “It’s supposed to be the storm of the century out there, and you’re gonna let it blow you right away. Crazy girl.”

“Thank you, Mr. Delroy,” you murmur sheepishly.

Jack puts the car into first gear and takes off. “What’ve I told you about calling me Mr. Delroy? Jack, sweetie. Just Jack.”

“I’m sorry, M- Jack.”

“Too sweet for your own good, you know that? Always so polite. Where am I taking you, sweetheart?”

“It’s a little bit far. You’re just gonna take this road for a while,” you instruct. “And then I’ll tell you where to turn. I’m not in the city proper.”

“Must be nice,” Jack replies. “Quiet.”

You shrug. “Sometimes. Not usually. My roommate is kind of noisy.”

Jack chuckles. “The roommate days, gosh. I don’t miss those a bit.” He pauses, thinks of something to say to fill the silence. “You don’t usually take the bus, do you?”

“Not usually, no,” you answer. “My roommate gives me a ride most of the time. But she ditched me tonight, so…”

“That’s a real shame.”

The rain starts to pick up a little more. Jack squints and at the road and increases the speed of his windshield wipers. He tries talking to you, but you can’t hear him over the drumming of rain against his car. Thunder booms, the drumming becomes louder and the windshield is nearly impossible to see out of. Jack has slowed the car down to a crawl, but when hail begins to fall from the sky, he pulls over. He shifts his car into neutral, then pulls the emergency brake to keep the car from rolling. Jack leans in close so you can hear him, “We’re just gonna wait out the storm, okay? It’s not safe to keep driving.”

“Yeah, that seems smart,” you agree. You’re thankful Jack showed up when he did, and that he’s keeping you safe in his car. If you listen closely, you can hear the faint sound of music playing on his stereo. You still feel a little nervous, though. Maybe it’s the storm, or the jitters of being alone with Jack - older, married, handsome Jack. You shiver in your wet cardigan.

“You’re cold,” Jack says. He tugs on your sweater, “Let’s get this off of you, huh? Not gonna let you catch a cold on my watch.” He peels the sweater off of you entirely, then lays it in his backseat. “And look, watch this–” Jack presses a button on his dashboard, a little orange light glows beneath the tiny image of a seat. Within a few seconds, the leather underneath you begins to warm. “Neat, huh? That should warm you up nicely.”

You still look cold, it’s evident in the way you hold yourself. Shoulders curled inward, hands clasped together. Jack thinks about holding you close, using his body to warm yours, but decides against it. You want it too, but you’ll never initiate touch.

You look out of the raindrop-covered window at the creepy woods off to the side, the trees illuminated by the lightning. Jack sees the worry on your face reflected on the glass. “Everything alright, sweetie?”

“It’s just the woods,” you answer. “I don’t know. I don’t like it. I’ve heard about…I don’t know. Scary stuff happens there.”

“Like what?”

“Satanic rituals or something. The occult, that kind of stuff. I’ve heard about it on TV.”

Jack lies to assure you, “It’s all make-belive,” he says, pushing down his own memories of The Grove. The sickly sweet smell of decaying leaves, sticks and branches crunching beneath his feet. The cold, metallic cup against his lips, that awful taste of whatever it is he drank. “But don’t look at the woods. Just look over here, right at me.” Jack turns your face toward his, then taps your nose. “There’s that beautiful smile.”

You grin even wider. You know it’s just his nature, that it’s his job to be charming and likable, charismatic and sweet. It makes you feel so special and seen nonetheless.

Jack smiles too. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” He admires the details in your face for a minute, your perfect nose, sparkling eyes, your pretty lips. His eyes travel lower, tracing the endlessly beautiful curves of your body - breasts, waist, hips, thighs. There’s a rip up high on your nylons, just below your ridden-up skirt. He furrows his brows and touches your bare skin with his finger, “What happened here?”

“Oh.” You touch the tear with your finger, just a hair away from Jack’s. “My cat, Felix. He ripped my tights.”

“Sounds like Felix is a real troublemaker, huh?”

“Oh, he can be,” you giggle quietly. “But I love him anyway.”

Jack keeps his finger on the hole in your nylons, now drawing lines back and forth over your thighs with the rest of his fingers. Little goosebumps erupt on your skin in their wake. “You’re still so cold, darling. What am I gonna do with you?” Another shrug, another shy smile. “Come here,” Jack whispers. He wraps his strong hands around your legs and pulls you across the seat so that your legs are lying across his, and your torso curled into his own. Fuck, he smells good. His cologne is musky and spicy and masculine. You’re so close, Jack can feel your heart pounding nervously. But he says nothing about it, doesn’t want to embarrass you. Instead, Jack just gazes at you warmly, still tracing patterns on your leg. “You’re such a gorgeous girl, have I ever told you that?” He pushes a bit of your hair behind your ear, sending tingles down your neck and spine.

“Jack,” you whisper, elongating his name. “Stop it.”

“I’m serious, darling. If only I were a younger man…If I hadn’t married…” He moves his hand from your ear to your mouth, pulling down on your bottom lip with his thumb. God, you’re so soft. Desire is building within Jack, taking control over his sensibilities. And you, too young and enchanted by Jack fucking Delroy to listen to any inhibitions in your head telling you that you should stop this.

Jack pushes his thumb past your lips and you suck on it gently, so gently, the blunt little edges of your teeth tickling his fleshy skin. Arousal quickly builds in Jack, the sensation overwhelming him and bubbling over. He pulls his thumb from your mouth and holds your cheeks in both of his hands, inching closer to you bit by bit. Jack licks his lips, he’s about to do it. Finally, he does. Jack closes the gap between you by pressing his lips against yours, kissing you softly. He’s relaxed and controlled, but the way you kiss him is desperate and a little tentative. In time and with encouragement from Jack, how he squeezes you and growls against your lips, you find your confidence. You kiss him fervently, tasting him, savoring the softness of his tongue.

Jack takes your hand and presses it against his warm bulge. You gasp, “But your wife–”

“Shh, quiet. She’s not here, now is she?”

“N-no,” you stutter.

“No. It’s just us. You-” Jack unzips his pants and pulls his rock-hard cock out of his boxers. He spits into your palm and has you hold his length, then closes his hand around yours. “-And me.”

With your hand under Jack’s, he pumps his cock. “Oh, that’s good. You’re my good girl,” he breathes.

Jack grips his cock tighter and kisses you again. “Oh, Jack,” you moan. Jack helps you to stroke him from base to tip, your pinky finger brushing against that patch of coarse hair at his pelvis, thumb rubbing over his weeping head.

“Just like this, darling. All the way up, all the way down. Just like this. You’re doing so well.”

Jack twitches in your hand as you feel every thick vein and ridge on his cock. He urges you to pump him faster and at the same time, touches you. He gropes your breasts first, breasts he’s dreamed of touching since he first laid eyes on you. He unbuttons your blouse and slides his hand beneath your bra to squeeze your flesh, tease your nipples. Jack relishes in your body, how supple, soft, warm and wanting you are. You touch him like you love him and Christ, Jack can’t wait to bury himself inside you. Feel that warm, wet embrace of a young woman’s cunt.

“Do you let other men touch you like this, sweetheart?” Jack asks, unzipping your skirt and shoving his hand down the front of your nylons. He toys with the arousal-dampened hair that’s spattered on your mound, then slips his fingers past your lips. “Older men, huh? Married men?”

“N-no, Jack. Just you. Only you.”

“Do you like being touched like this?” You stutter out a frantic, breathy ‘yes’. “Dirty girl. It’s always girls like you.”

Jack circles your clit with his fingertips, then presses two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out. “Distracted, are we?” he murmurs as your hand that strokes his cock slows to a still, so focused on how Jack pleasures you that you forget about his needs.

“H - what?” Jack chuckles and gives your hand a squeeze to remind you. “Oh, I’m s - sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” God, you are such a precious girl, and Jack is a lucky man. He breaks away from you just for a moment to undress himself, shoving his pants down his thighs and unbuttoning his dress shirt. Once bare, Jack turns to you and finds that little tear in your nylons again, then rips the hole wider up the garment. He yanks the nylons and your panties off of your legs and puts them with the rest of his discarded clothes, tucking them away for later. He removes your skirt next, followed by your bra and your blouse. You breathe heavily as Jack takes in your naked form, even more beautiful than he pictured. He needs you now, needs to taste you.

Jack pushes you gently onto your back, laying you out across the bench seat before sinking to his knees on the floor of his Buick. He wraps his strong forearms around your still rain-cold thighs and pulls you close, close enough so that you can feel his hot breaths on your slick pussy. Jack could eat you alive right now.

He spits on your pussy, then rubs your folds with his fingers, paying special attention to your clit. He spreads your lips wide and admires your shiny, glistening center. “My, look at this mess,” Jack marvels, admiring your creamy arousal. He tastes you then, pressing a soft kiss against your core. Jack inhales deeply, taking in your scent, feeling your hair against his shaven face. His tongue darts from between his lips and he licks you up and down, dipping his tongue inside you.

“Jack, oh my - yes,” you gasp, your hands tugging on his graying strands of black hair. Jack slowly licks a long stripe up your seam with his tongue flat against you, all the way from your asshole to clit. “Jack.”

The mess he’s reduced you to. All broken moans, desperate, needy cries of his name. Jack smiles against your cunt and continues licking and lapping at the sensitive part of you. He traces your folds, sucking them between his lips. He draws circles around your clit with the tip of his tongue next, driving you wild. “You like this, darling, don’t you? You like having this pretty pussy eaten?”

All you can do is nod. Jack closes his lips around your clit and sucks, causing you to clamp your thighs around his head and pull his hair tightly between your fingers. Jack forces you apart so that all you can do is take it, all that relentless, smoldering pleasure.

Jack intensifies it all by pushing a finger inside you and curling it, stroking that sensitive part of you. Within seconds you’re coming, rocking your hips against his face as you ride out your high.

There’s barely a comedown. Jack crawls over your body, one foot planted on the floor of the car and the other kneeling on the seat. He reaches behind the front seat for his suit jacket and bunches it up, then fits it between your head and the passenger door. “Don’t want your pretty little head to get hurt is all,” Jack says.

He holds his cock between his thumb and his forefinger before he lines up with your entrance. His cock is big, perfectly lengthy and girthy. You tense up a bit as he fits his cockhead inside of you, “Easy, darling. Take it all for me,” he coos.

You inhale deeply, and on your exhale Jack pushes himself inside of you in full. “Ohhh,” you moan. It’s such a tight fit, he fills you so fully. The aching burn of the stretch takes time to dissipate as Jack rubs your hip. After a moment, Jack pulls out of you, then inches his way back in. Your face previously scrunched in pain is now relaxed, soft little noises of pleasure escaping your lips. “That’s it, good girl,” Jack says. “Wasn’t so difficult, was it?”

Jack laces his fingers between yours and uses his other hand to brace himself on the back of the car seat. Jack begins thrusting, not quite fucking you gently. It builds quickly, the pace both harder and faster. Jack rocks his hips into you at that perfect angle to have you writhing on his cock, the head of it kissing the most sensitive place inside of you over and over. You bury your face into him, the hair on his chest tickling your face.

“Fuck,” Jack grunts, fucking you deeper. He knows he should be more gentle than this, but he can’t be helped. He loses himself inside of you, growling like an animal as he fucks his cock into you. You’re squirming beneath him, muscles tensing against his as you begin to cry, overwhelmed by it all. “Such a filthy fucking girl, crying on my cock. You’re okay, sweetie.”

Jack rolls his hips quickly and fluidly so that his pubic bone is grinding against your mound, the friction inching you closer and closer to a second release, but it isn’t quite enough. You rock your hips to match Jack’s thrusts, needing more against your clit. “M-More please, Jack,” you beg. “I wanna come, Jack, make me come again.”

While still fucking you, Jack spits onto two of his fingertips, then fits his hand between your bodies. He finds your sensitive bud and rubs it, using the momentum of his thrusts to bring you to climax once more. “Come for me, sweetheart. Give - fucking give it to me.”

Jack rounds your clit with his fingers, putting harder pressure against it. In moments, you’re coming for him again, this orgasm more intense than the last. Your moans are louder, more frantic. Your face scrunches in pleasure as you pulse around Jack’s cock, urging his own release along. “Good girl, good fucking girl.”

Jack growls into your ear as he spills into you, milking himself entirely. He fills you with his come, so warm inside you, the throbbing of his cock so pleasurable and satisfying. Dampened with sweat, Jack presses his forehead against yours as he fucks you through his orgasm, then slows to a still. He hisses a little when he pulls out of your cunt, his spend dripping from your hole onto the leather. Jack collects this mess with his finger, then pushes the digit into your mouth as he catches his breath.

It’s all quiet, save for a few scattered raindrops and the sound of you and Jack both catching your breath. Jack breaks the silence. “Well hey, how about that. The storm passed, huh? Was really something, too. I’m glad we pulled over,” Jack laughs nervously. He helps you dress yourself as best as he can, then haphazardly dresses himself too. You smile a little, and Jack touches your face. “You alright, darling?”

“I’m okay,” you answer, still a little tearful. Jack smiles sympathetically and pulls you into his side, then shifts his car into gear.

“Well, let’s get you home, then.”

TY for reading! Comments, reblogs, all of that good stuff would be so appreciated ♡

#jack delroy #jack delroy x reader #Jack delroy x reader smut #jack delroy smut #late night with the devil #david dastmalchian #david Dastmalchian characters #strang3lov3 #jack delroy/reader #jack delroy/you

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verdantlights · 2 months ago

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Thoughts/Analysis Part 2 (but its coherent)

OKay so i slept (finally) after staying up since wednesday morning and only getting roughly 5 hours of sleep in total?? until I finally managed to get decent hours of sleep last night. anyways. i am still not normal in the slightest over round 7 but i have many more thoughts, am a lot more coherent, and have had it swimming in my head for a while.

TW for mentions of drug use. I'm gonna start with Luka. I've stated in the edit I made of the original post as well as in a few reblogs, but Luka is a victim. A lot of people are Luka haters, and that's valid! I am also, to an extent, a Luka hater.... even if I have a thing for blonde twinks with issues. But his character is also incredibly interesting. If you are familiar with Honkai: Star Rail, then you might understand what I'm saying when I think Luka is a combination of both Sunday AND Robin. He has the trapped bird in a cage mentality from Robin with the need for order and control mentality from Sunday. Order and control referring to winning being the only thing keeping his sanity in check.

Luka, as a human pet, is aware that he is playing a losing game. He needs to win, but he knows that winning Season 50 is not the end. He may have won against Till, but now the segyein are going to put him against Hyuna, considering Hyuna and Mizi were referred to as special guests. The way he looked at Hyuna in that last scene was part of him realizing this. It's the face you pull when you realize something horrible, but you need to keep face/keep your composure.

Their ear pieces are similar to their collars in that they show the emotions of the wearer. We can clearly see Till's earpiece glowing red the entire time (up until Mizi appears), and Luka's is constantly glowing green. Luka was seen in hysterics pretty much the entire time like the one frame where he's holding in his laughter.

Luka was drugged on something that makes him euphoric and lose his sense of control, like weed or cocaine. He found fucking with Till to be the funniest thing ever, but it's not normal for Luka to be so outwardly expressive of his elation. We know he enjoyed fucking with Mizi, even if it let to getting his ass beat, but even then, he wasn't as expressive then as he was with Till. That leads me to believe that he has something in his system to heighten his emotional output as well as some sort of adrenaline drug like what Till was most likely given.

What bugs me is that they don't show us what color his earpiece is as he looks at Hyuna. We see Till's earpiece turn green at Mizi, but does Luka's stay green as he looks at Hyuna? I feel it was orange, but that's just me.

Luka now knows what's about to happen, which is also why Hyuna tries to stop Mizi. Hyuna knew the whole time that if they were to save Till, they'd be walking straight into the trap. Mizi's heart is too kind and she's desperate to save Till.

Thankfully, what Hyuna had gone there for originally seems to be completed. Whatever files she was downloading was complete before she went after Mizi, and I think that's where were gonna see Issac and Dewey again. I think she might've been uploading those files to them so that they can take the lead from there. This leads me to my prediction for the next episode. (ill get to till last, hes my little meow meow and im not normal about him)

I don't think Blink Gone is done. I believe there is a part two to the Finals, and that round 7 wasn't even the final round. I've already stated that the most likely thing to happen next is Luka v Hyuna, but then I also talked about Issac and Dewey.

Hyuna could have gotten her hands on high profile data regarding Alien Stage. She sends the data to Dewssac, and they shut down the stage from the inside, allowing the resistance to come in and do a massive sweep, hopefully before either Hyuna, Luka, or Mizi dies.

Now, as for Mizi. We know Mizi is the main character, and there are people who are saying Till's death boosts her hero arc. Now there are two ways I see this happening, either:

Vivinos keeps up their streak of tragedy and kills off everyone, leaving Mizi isolated entirely.

Or someone (dewssac, hyuna, mizi, maybe even luka) pull through and live to save more people.

If it's the first one, Till is dead dead. If the second, Till has a chance at being alive.

There are many reasons why Till is most likely alive, and as a hopeful feeler... I also am clinging onto the more hopeful ending (the second option). Not just because "Haha guys I need Till to be alive, he's my bias" but also because seeing Mizi completely isolated and forced to fake a smile and perform would absolutely fucking destroy me and I don't think I'd ever be the same after that, honestly. Like that genuinely scares me.

There's the narrative of ALNST and vivimeng's beautiful storytelling. That is my number one hopeful reasoning for Till being alive. If Till dies here, it would be utterly nonsensical and it would ruin the narrative. It would completely void all of Ivan's character, for starters. I was just talking about this with @rockwgooglyeyes and Vant (idt they wanna be tagged here), but Ivan's character is static. He is not dynamic or fluid, but he is extraordinarily complex which makes up for it. He never really had an arc of his own unless you count what happened in his past during/before being bought by Unsha. His death is meant to haunt the narrative, meant to haunt Till. So why would he die, only for Till to die a few hours later? It would completely ruin what he was meant for and it would be so unsatisfying and bitter.

However, there's also the thematics of ALNST. Rock called out @pwippy for this already, but I'm gonna call them out too because fuck you plip (/j i love you plipster). Rock put it really well in these two excerpts I took from his post:

"Alien Stage is a universe full of suffering and pain for humans, forced to perform until they literally die on stage, all for the entertainment of the audience. It's not even meant as a way of exerting control or oppressing them, though it serves that purpose, because why would the seygein bother to oppress something that can't even fight back? Why go to the trouble of controlling something that is just a pet, whose cries are the fuel for a new age?"

Once again mentioning the Hunger Games because I genuinely can't help myself I love THG way too much, but that's the key difference between ALNST and THG: the human pets aren't being forced to do this because of a past rebellion and are being punished by the oppressing government... They're being thrown into this for fun. Full credit to @alien-til-i-stage who said this as a joke, but it is really fucking real, but the segyein bringing their human pets to watch ALNST in the audience are like people bringing dogs to a dog fight in real life. And that, I fear, puts into perspective as to just how much of a pet the humans are to the segyein. They are only there for entertainment. The resistance is mostly a thorn in their side as of right now (dewey and issac better change that next episode or istg) and killing these humans is simply just fun for them. They know humans can be hostile, just like dogs, but they tame them and make them docile and obedient, only to make them kill each other in the end, even if it's through a singing competition rather than an all out teeth and claws brawl. (except for round 5, that doesnt count)

"In this world of pain and suffering, perhaps death is a mercy. If Till is truly dead, then he no longer a tool for his oppressors, he is free of their control. For Ivan and Sua both of their deaths were mercies to them- Ivan was able to die for the one he loved, as was Sua, and neither of them were forced to live in a world without their beloved."

(thank you rock i love you pookie snookie)

He also mentions that it's not in character for Till to die, which I completely agree with. Till's persona is that of someone who wants to win, but not in the same way Luka needs to win. Till wants to win to live and survive with those he loves, he wants to win to beat the system, but considering how dystopian of a world this is, as much as he wants to win and save Mizi, he craves death as a freedom.

That out of the way, another thing that @junebluues actually got me to think about was this:

The bomb has Till's eyes and is crying as it knows it's going to die (assuming it's a sentient alien like Freddie). And the comparison here honestly opened my eyes a little bit and got me thinking.

Was Till a catalyst? Because that was a smoke bomb. I ended up thinking about it for a minute and came up with three possibilities where Till is a bomb/smoke bomb:

Mizi is using Till to hide her feelings

Till is the bomb that sets off a chain of events

Till is used to hide/cover up the real plan for either the segyein or for the resistance

I don't think it's the first one, I feel like it'd be closer to the other two, but any three of those could work. Because Mizi's feelings of despair over her situation can be hidden behind the hope as she reached out for Till. But as the smoke clears (Till dies) she remembers that it was, in fact, a bomb.

EDIT: Also, the lyric that plays during the smoke bomb scene is "No, don't look back now" which also kinda leads me to believe that Till is the start of a chain/domino effect. Once you knock the first domino, you can't go back.

I think someone somewhere had also talked about Till being forced to be used as a catalyst/bait again considering how well it worked here. There's a good chance Urak might have supplied the drugs to Till and also paid out or WAS paid out by another person to use Till as bait. Urak wouldn't want his pet that he is grossly possessive over to die that easily without every ounce of use being wrung out of him,,, something something Till being a Trojan Horse of sorts (thanks rock for that one, too).

EDIT: I also remembered that during the sequence in the song where the audience is singing the chorus and we see Ivan on the screens, is when Till looks like he's about to pass out. What gets me here is the fact that it is quite literally a chorus of vultures. The audience singing the chorus with images of Ivan surrounding him and seeing Luka mimic Ivan made Till realize that he was surrounded and that's when he started losing hope. It's why his reaction to Mizi is so prominent, because it's like she was there to save him from the vultures. The audience singing is my favorite and also least favorite part of the video/song because the feeling of being surrounded and cornered with everyone against you and their voices echoing in your head... really does it for me. I really want to animate this sequence from up close in Till's POV.

Anyways the 4th reason i had for the bomb theory was that Till is smoking hot (sorry). okay im done now i think,,,,,, i might actually come back with more because i think i forgot something... but i cant remember..... i forgor.....

other tags: @shakingparadigm @aakaneeee @ivanttakethis @k9punkout @crustyfloor @apriciticreveries @bluemoonscape @tsukacchako @nottoonedin @paperstarry

side note that i genuinely put more effort into my analyses than i have ever put into any school essay ever

edit: FUCK I WAS SUPPOSED TO ANALYZE THE LYRICS AGAIN GOD DAMNIT i dont feel like doing that anymore ill just do it later maybe

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silkjade · 11 months ago

Text

SPARKS AMIDST THE SNOW

scaramouche x reader ⤀ warnings: gn!reader, second chance romance ⤀ synopsis: he meets you again for the first time since erasing himself from irminsul, and new hope flickers in the barren cold. ⤀ notes: for the best reading experience, pls think of the outro to all too well (10 min version) while u read this !

When Scaramouche inevitably accompanies the golden haired traveller on their journey to Snezhnaya, the last thing he expected was a pit stop in your little village on the outskirts of the capital. and although his puppet body does not shrink in the face of this nation's biting cold, his skin burns under the curious, yet cautious, gaze of those once familiar to him.

He keeps his head down, dipping his hat so that its large brim might hide his visage, eager to avoid any unwarranted attention. Still, his eyes cannot help but wander and his heart, imaginary as it may be, cannot help but wonder.

Were you well? The last he'd seen of you, he had promised to return a god — one who would whisk you away from the barren cold of Snezhnaya to live out your days in glory as his mortal consort. But for all that had transpired, and then that fateful traipse beneath the Irminsul, he's now no more than just another stranger passing through — fleeting as the falling snow, just another memory to be buried in the desolate stillness of winter.

He cares not for the stars in the sky, yet somehow they still dictate that his traveling companions would task him with purchasing commodities, of course from your family's stall. He's long grown out of his naivety; knows that in this infinite realm of possibilities, there’d always be the chance of meeting you again, slim as it may be. If it really came to, he had been prepared to let you live your life, free of him this time around, but it seems this world has its own twisted sense of humor, for he cannot tear his eyes from the ring that sits upon your finger.

"That ring. Where did you get it?" He's never been one for small talk, but the biting curiosity rivals that of the wind, as it chips away at his exterior. He keeps his tone even, ignoring the multitude of emotions whirring in his head, though irritation clearly seems to buzz the loudest.

It should have been impossible that a ring he'd forged with his own hands should still exist, but as the fate of this world has yet to reflect that… if he hadn't given you the ring, then how? Or perhaps even who... the cold, gunmetal glint laughs in his face as your swift fingers wrap up his purchase.

The stranger's question takes you by surprise, and you look up, taken aback by the intensity of his indigo gaze — beautiful, and bitter, and so blatantly familiar, yet you cannot quite figure out why.

Your village is nowhere near the main road, so it isn't often that you'd host any foreign guests; even if you did, you're sure you'd remember if someone like that were to ever have passed through. Nevertheless, you flex your fingers, pulled out of your thoughts by his impatient sigh.

"I'm not sure. I've had it ever since I could remember."

You're the same as he remembers, he thinks. A rose amidst the snow, with frost resting in your hair and on the curls of your lashes. Out of habit, he takes your hand, inspecting the ring at a closer proximity.

'How rude,' you think. and yet your hand in his, feels comfortable, and warm, and right. Like an electric charge drawing two magnets home to the other. It’d be blasphemy to pull away, but you manage to do so anyway, furrowing your brows at his boldness, the frown on your lips more so a reflection of your confusion, rather than displeasure.

“If you wanted to look, you could’ve just asked,” you mumble, as you slip the ring off your finger, offering it to him in the palm of your hand.

The detailed metalwork, the particular branding imprinted in the iron… there’s no denying the influence of the raiden gokaden, though it was perhaps, a subconscious decision made from muscle memory. In hindsight, he thinks that, in the moment, he must have felt—still feels—that same overwhelming affection that came as second nature to kabukimono. after all, it was forged as a promise of his love, and there’s no question about it when, hidden beneath his clothes, its pair hangs on a chain around his neck.

"It’s made with excellent craftsmanship," he boasts, "any merchant worth their weight, would give you a good price for it." He figures you might as well get something out of it, and a piece like this, though meaningless now, is still sure to last you until at least the next winter.

But a stubborn pout is painted across your snow-kissed features. "Absolutely not! it’s actually quite dear to me, you know..."

Scaramouche scoffs at the irony. ‘Why?’ he wants to ask. He is not foolish enough to believe himself an exception from the rules of this world; not when he's already convinced himself to give up on chasing the impossible. Still, here you are, turning destiny on its head — his heart, right within reach.

“It can’t be that dear, if you’d so willingly hand it off to a stranger.” his face reveals nothing, though he cannot say the same for the bile that rises in his throat. He crosses his arms, a brow raised in skepticism. "How do you know I won't run off with it right now?"

“I don’t,” you start, “so I suppose you could call it a leap of faith.”

“Or a doomed attempt at flight,” he counters. “You’d leave something so precious up to fate?”

You ponder for a moment as to why you feel so drawn to this stranger, why this back and forth comes so easily, why you seem to somehow just trust him.

"We don’t get many visitors here,” you start, “and as fate should have it, the day we do, it happens to be someone as interesting as you. that must count for something, no?”

The realist he’s learned to embody rolls his eyes at such ridiculous notions: your blind optimism… putting such faith in these false stars…. but the tenderness he had buried begs to differ, planting roots between the cavities of his chest, sprouting until it breaks through the surface.

He takes a further study of the intricate details, the careful inazuman script engraved on its body. ‘My heart,’ he had wrote.

Scaramouche dips his head as his fingers close a fist around the piece, the large brim of his hat hiding the fondness glimmering in his eyes, and the ghostly smile settling on his lips. He does not cringe as he recalls the lingering remnants of Kabukimono's innocence: stubbornly deluding himself to believe that his hollowed chest was naught for his natural lack of a heart, but because fate had dictated you to be its keeper.

Perhaps the warmth of sumeru had indeed rubbed off on him — melted the frost that crawled upon and tore his skin, whilst teaching him to hope again, not for anyone else’s sake, but for his own. What was that Vahumana saying? It’s difficult for people to truly understand themselves — and as much as he’d like to disagree, judging by his current predicament, he knows he cannot.

“Have you ever considered that this ring might be one half of a pair?” he tosses it in the air, nonchalantly, as if he were merely flipping a coin, catching it mid-way before you have the chance to swipe it back.

“What do you suppose fate would have to say about that?”

It’s almost impossible to tell whether he’s truly genuine in his queries, but the mischievous gleam in his bright eyes, and the smug look on his face, seem to nullify any regards you may have had. Your brows twitch in vexation. was he not just here to buy provisions? And yet he toys with you so…

“Well if that were the case, then it would be between me and whoever owns the other half,” you huff, reaching over once again in an attempt to snatch back your belonging, only to miss by mere seconds thanks to a quick slight of his hand.

Breathing out something between a chuckle and a scoff, Scaramouche tugs at the thin chain around his neck, hard enough for it to snap right off, and toss in your direction.

"A leap of faith," he says plainly. it lands in the palms of your hands: a ring, near identical. 'My soul' it reads. If he lacked a heart, then it could only have been forged from his soul.

A flurry of questions swarm in your head, as you stare at his ring. you want to ask him why and how, but he's already pivoted away, the tassels of his hat barely missing you by inches, as he quickly grabs his purchase.

“Who are you,” you manage to blurt out, calling out to him, and asking him to wait, so he might answer these questions he’s planted in your heart, but he only bids you farewell with a lazy wave of his hand.

Though there's nothing he'd like more than to hear the sweet song of his name falling from your lips, he's learned it best to leave the past where it belongs. once he's settled his scores... Then he'll get his second chance with you—he'll make sure of it, vowing to come back for you, not as Kunikuzushi who you had once known him, but he hopes you might one day be able to love him as he is, as well.

‘My soul’ your new ring reads. You shake your head, pursing your lips at the mysterious wanderer, wondering if you’d ever see him again, but a gust of wind blows your way — not a prickling cold as you’re used to, but a warm summer breeze that seems to caress your cheeks so sweetly.

Perhaps it's only in your head, but you swear the wind seems to carry the whisper of a name in its flurry. 'And don't you forget it,' it seems to say.

notes2: pleaseeee associate this with the outro of all too well (10 min version) like imagine the camera slow panning out amidst the falling snow, to the hopes of another chance together (��⸝o̴̶̷᷄‸o̴̶̷̥᷅⸝⸝) anyways, tysm for reading, reblogs/feedback vry much appreciated ♡

#— 𝓼𝓲𝓰𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓙. ༯ #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #astronetwrk #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche x you #genshin impact x you #wanderer x you #genshin x reader #genshin drabble #scaramouche drabble #scaramouche x reader fluff #genshin impact

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a-dauntless-daffodil · 5 months ago

Note

I remember reading someone say that they hope Seviathan ISN’T a jerk and if/when he comes to the hotel, he actually wants to help Charlie in her mission of redemption…then ends up with a crush on Vaggie, lol.

Mate, how funny would that be? 😂😂😂 You’re here to genuinely help your ex, then end up falling for her girlfriend. While it isn’t socially acceptable or appropriate, I think it’s cute. I guess Vags has that sort of affect on people.

oh man, if we go the absolute CHAD route for Sevi WHILE imagining him getting a crush on Vaggie... like, dude meets scary lady, doesn't notice how scary his EX gets over him staring at HER girlfriend, and maybe it's time for Sev to have some personal epiphanies?

Seviathan: "Knock knock? Yo Charles-a-lot! This really your hotel?"

Angel Dust: "Oh heyyy, look what the undead boy band dragged in..."

Husk: (snorts)

Charlie: "Sev? SEV! Holy shit what are you doing here!?"

Angel Dust: "Wait a sec, Sev? As in-"

Husk: "Oh shit."

Angel Dust: "Ex boyfriend on the hotel premises oh this is gonna get INTERESTIN'. Bet on how quick he gets maimed?"

Husk: "Fuck no. She'd kill us too."

Angel Dust: "Sigh... S'pose so. Spoil sport spear bitch..."

Seviathan: "I heard about your thing! Figured you could use a hand with the whole... uh... Sinner pet project obsession."

Charlie: "But Isn't there a game on right now-"

Seviathan: "Nah, everything's blocked out by replays of your little slap fight with heaven. Which I totally could've helped with too, if you'd given me a heads up first."

Charlie: "I did call? I said goodbye in case I died and-"

Seviathan: "Didn't hear it. You know I don't check voice mail. Everyone's always blowing up my inbox trying to to hit me up."

Angel Dust: "Oh my fucking gay."

Husk: "Would you hit that?"

Angel Dust: "If I did ya'd have to shoot me afterwards."

Seviathan: "Anyway, that's how I found out you'd actually went ahead and tried this thing out for real! And made a real mess of it. You totally cut off the final quarter of the best game of the year with all that live coverage."

Charlie: "Sorry, sorry- we REALLY didn't have say in the timing on that-"

Husk: "No shit."

Seviathan: "Eh. The team's played like shit anyway ever since I left."

Charlie: "Didn't you get kicked off for hogging the ball-"

Angel Dust: "Shocker."

Husk: "Never would have fucking guessed."

Seviathan: "Not dropping the ball isn't the same as hogging it and I never drop the ball on anything. You sure have though!"

Charlie: "I have? Where? Or er with what??"

Seviathan: "This hotel lobby for a start. Where's the billiards table!"

Charlie: "Ohhh. We don't have one."

Seviathan: "Why the hell not???"

Charlie: "No one's asked?"

Seviathan: "Well what the fuck does everyone here DO all day long? You've got actual people staying here, right? You're not still playing pretend hostess to stuffed animals and stuff?"

Angel Dust: "I kinda hope Vaggisaurus kills him."

Husk: "Don't get your hopes up. You know she's whipped and Charlie's a fucking sweetheart."

Angel Dust: "A bestie can dream..."

Charlie: "No I am NOT playing pretend hostess, thanks for mentioning it by the way, in public, in front of my friends- and yes we DO have guests at the hotel! Some of them here of their own free will even!"

Husk: "Not it."

Angel Dust: "Bullshit."

Charlie: "They have lots of fun activity time too! Even when we're not doing talk circles!"

Seviathan: "Uh huh."

Charlie: "Yes! Mostly we all like watching TV- well almost all of us- or listening to the radio to pass the time, or hanging out chatting, or reading-"

Seviathan: "So they're pussies."

Husk: "Hey."

Angel Dust: "Down, pussycat~"

Husk: (HISS)

Charlie: "They are NOT-"

Angel Dust: "Speakin' of pussy...."

Seviathan: "Yeah we're talking about you, what about it? Anyway."

Seviathan: (puts hand on charlie's arm)

Angel Dust: "Here it comes-"

Seviathan: "I've been thinking about us lately, and-" (spear thuds next to his head) "-SHIT!!! HOLY SHIT?!?!"

Husk: "Damn. She missed."

Angel Dust: "Just an openin' shot, Mr. Whiskers." (rubs all four hands together) "Oh this is gonna be goooood~"

Charlie: "Vaggie!" (BEAMING) "I thought we talked about this?"

Vaggie: (swoops down) "He's not a gust yet, babe, so I can greet him spear first if I want to."

Charlie: "Sev's my ex boyfriend though!"

Vaggie: "I know."

Vaggie: (yanks spear out of wall and holds it under his throat) "What the fuck are you doing here."

Seviathan: "I, uhh- is, is that angelic steel..?"

Charlie: (laughing) "Vaggieeee. You're scaring him~"

Angel Dust: "An' turnin' her on."

Husk: (elbows him)

Vaggie: "We said hotel security would be my thing until the threat of random asshole angel attacks went down, remember hun? This is my day job."

Charlie: "I never said I was complaining! Juuuust commentating!"

Vaggie: "Alright then."

Vaggie: (backs Seviathan against wall with her spear)

Vaggie: "Talk. Now."

Seviathan: (swallows hard) "I'm swinging by to help Charlie with the hotel thing-"

Vaggie: "Why."

Seviathan: "She used to be my girl, a guy's got a responsibility-"

Vaggie: "Did she ask you to."

Seviathan: "No? She, she doesn't have to-"

Vaggie: "Did you ask her if you could help."

Seviathan: "It's no trouble, I don't mind a little extra work-"

Vaggie: "Are you here to ask for a room in our hotel."

Seviathan: "In this place? Fuck no, you should see the digs I have, I've got a-"

Vaggie: "So you're trespassing."

Angel Dust: "Ohhh!"

Seviathan: "I'm wha-"

Husk: "Fucking screwed."

Vaggie: "You came here just to swan all over her hard work and stroke your own ego, is what I'm hearing."

Seviathan: "Hey girl, I'm here to he-ULP-!"

Vaggie: "Shut up." (over shoulder) "Charlie?"

Charlie: "Mm....wellllll... Since he's already here, as long he really does help, I'm fine with it. He's harmless. He'd just... um..."

Husk: "A fuckhead."

Angel Dust: "Don't take my fav word in vain, baby."

Charlie: "He's my ex for a reason."

Husk: "Fuck you."

Angel Dust: "Much better."

Vaggie: "He's your ex for an annoying reason, or for being an actual jerk who's earned getting kicked out on his ass for once in his life kinda reason, sweetie?"

Nifty: (popping up from floorboards) "Is he a BAAAAD BOYYYY~?"

Seviathan: "WHAT THE FUCK IS THAt-"

Vaggie: "What part of shut up there's a spear at your throat don't you get."

Seviathan: (jaw clicks shut)

Charlie: "Nope! He's not a boy boy! Just annoying! Mostly."

Nifty: "DAMN IT."

Angel Dust: "How's the huntin' goin' today, Nif?"

Nifty: (pouts) "The last baby bug got away... I hadn't even finished ripping it's little legs off while the mother bug watched it squirm..." (slinks back under floor)

Everyone else: "....."

Charlie: "... so! (claps hands)

Charlie: "Sev, if you really wanna help out that's fine, we're still finishing up the last touches on the new hotel if you feel like doing a little paint work and furniture moving!"

Seviathan: "....."

Charlie: "Sev?"

Seviathan: "..."

Angel Dust: "Think we broke him."

Husk: "I think it's the fucking spear pressed up against his fucking windpipe."

Charlie: "Oh! Whoops. Vaggie, please?"

Vaggie: ".... fiiiine."

Vaggie: (steps back) (wipes spear on nearby curtains) "Answer her."

Seviathan: (staring) "What's your name?"

Vaggie: "Hotel manager. Answer her."

Seviathan: "Charlie-" (still staring at vaggie) "-I would LOVE to help set up your pet sinner terrarium thing!"

Vaggie: "Our WHAT."

Husk & Angel Dust: "Hey!"

Charlie: "It's a hotel, Sev."

Seviathan: "Uh huh yeah sure, that thing!"

Vaggie: (lifts spear)

Charlie: (gently pushes gf spear back down) "Oh I'm going to regret this... ok. Let's, get you some gloves and stuff."

Seviathan: "Alright!" (holds hand up to vaggie) "Give me some skin!"

Vaggie: "...." (lifts spear again)

Charlie: "Excuse us Sev just ONE moment!"

Charlie: (pulls gf safe distance away)

Charlie: "Vaggie..? You okay?"

Vaggie: "Fine."

Charlie: "You're eye's, um. Twitching." (tenderly brushes fringe away from gf's eye) "Are you okay with this? He doesn't have to stay."

Vaggie: "No. It's fine." (sighs) "I want to be okay with it."

Charlie: "It's okay if you're not!"

Vaggie: "I will be, sweetie. Just give me a minute." (leans up for kiss) "But. I need to go do a Niffty and stab something. Really hard. Right now. And if I stay here one minute more, it's gonna be him."

Charlie: "Okay." (giggles) "Have fun stabbing things that aren't my ex?"

Vaggie: "I'll try to."

Seviathan: "Oh hey I'm awesome at stabbing! And the thrusting!"

Angel Dust: "PLEASE stick around, toots."

Husk: (mumbling) "Please fucking stick him."

Seviathan: "Long hard things are totally my thing, I could give you a few pointers on handling them no problem!"

Vaggie: "No."

Seviathan: "Oh come on, how about a hands on demonstration-"

Vaggie: (at charlie) "Keep him away from the kitchen knifes. He looks like he'd stab himself showing off and make a mess."

Charlie: "Heheh~ I'll try to."

Vaggie: "Good luck with that babe." (smooches her) (flies off to go stab)

Seviathan: "...."

Seviathan: "She single?"

Charlie: "She- NO? She is not??"

Angel Dust: (whisper hissing) "Is he blind? Didn't they just kiss???"

Seviathan: "We'll she's gonna be single soon, but not for long."

Husk: "He's dead."

Demon Charlie: "Her girlfriend is ME, Seviathan."

Seviathan: "Girlfriend? So she's-"

Demon Charlie: "VERY VERY GAY and TAKEN, YES."

Seviathan: "Wait, with you? Seriously??"

Demon Charlie: "Yes. Me. For s e v e r a l. Happy. Years."

Husk: (lifts bottle) "Cheers motherfuckers."

Seviathan: "Ohhh, so all that making out with you she did, it wasn't just her flirting with m-"

Angel Dust: "Holy. Fuck."

Demon Charlie: "SHE WASN't FLIRTING WITH YOU! SHE LOVES ME- SHE WANTS TO KILL YOU!!!"

Seviathan: "I'd let her, to be honest. She's hot."

Husk: "Let her?"

Angel Dust: "Dude."

Husk: "The fuck does he mean, let her? He wouldn't have a fucking choice-"

Demon Charlie: "On second thought maybe you SHOULD'NT help out with the hotel, actually!"

Demon Charlie: (grabbing him by scruff of the neck and marching towards door) "It was VERY nice of you to drop by, PLEASE go have a good rest of your life, you'll probably have a LONGER one if you live it away from here!"

Seviathan: "Aww Charlie, getting nervous over having competition?"

Husk: (spits out drink)

Demon Charlie: "You are SOOOOOO not competition! You might end up being another hotel fatality though!"

Angel Dust: "Bet on which of 'em kills him first?"

Husk: "Shut up I'm trying to listen."

Seviathan: "I just think a woman like that should have her pick from the best hell can offer!"

Demon Charlie: "I'm the princess of hell???"

Seviathan: "Sure, but you hardly ever act like it."

Demon Charlie: "I...! She, she doesn't mind me being like me. She-"

Seviathan: "What, a commanding woman like that is fine with a spineless partner? No offence. But come on."

Angel Dust: "Alright, now I'm gonna kill him."

Husk: "Let her do it herself."

Angel Dust: "Hmph!"

Seviathan: "She's never asked you to try being more of an actual princess sometimes?"

Demon Charlie: "No, she... Not like, not like that..."

Seviathan: "Not like that, huh?"

Demon Charlie: "No." (yanks open door) "And our relationship has NOTHING to do with you."

Seviathan: (grabbing doorframe) "But you know it could."

Demon Charlie: "NO IT WON'T. COULDN'T! WILL NOT, EVER!!!!"

Seviathan: "So why're you throwing me out of your silly hotel thing, then?"

Demon Charlie: "....."

Seviathan: "Scaaaared...?"

Demon Charlie: (drops him) (shuts door) "I trust her."

Seviathan: "Said like no one who ever got dumped so their girl could be with me."

Demon Charlie: "I trust her not to ACTUALLY kill you, I mean."

Seviathan: "Fuck I hope she tries... Maybe I'll let her pin me again."

Husk: (SNORTS) "'Let her'..."

Angel Dust: "He's gonna earn a fucking Darwin award at this rate."

Seviathan: (dusting ash off himself) "Kinda impressed you got all demon-ed so fast for this though. That's new!"

Charlie: "I've told you, it only happens when I'm PISSED. OFF."

Angel Dust: "YEAH DOLLFACE GET HIS ASS!"

Seviathan: "I know but like, it used to take a lot to get you all riled up. I hardly ever got to see you like this in bed even. Maybe if it'd been easier we'd still be a thing?"

Charlie: "You know I realllly really doubt it since I dumped YOU."

Husk: "HA!"

Angel Dust: "WOOOOO! BURRRRRN!"

Charlie: "And I dumped you partly BECAUSE you kept trying to 'rile me up' so you could try having sexy scary demon sex with me!"

Angel Dust: "OHHHHH!!!!"

Charlie: "Not that you ever even DID!"

Husk: "Fuck yes."

Charlie: "Because I always had waaaaay more fun sleeping on the COUCH!"

Husk & Angel Dust: (high five)

Seviathan: "...."

Seviathan: "So that's a no to having a threesome with us once I'm dating your soon to be ex girlfriend, huh?"

Demon Charlie: "SEV-"

Charlie: (deep breath)

Charlie: "... why do you even think you like her, Seviathan? You don't know her. She doesn't like you. You don't even know her name."

Seviathan: "She's hot."

Charlie: "Can We Try To Be More Specific, Please."

Seviathan: "I don't know? It was cute how she tried bullying me against a wall like that. All snapping orders like she was some kinda drill sergeant, or like a hot coach lady, treating me like some kinda bug crawling by her shoe- Who doesn't think that's hot?"

Charlie: "...."

Charlie: "Ohhhh."

Angel Dust: "Oh FUCK!"

Husk: (laughing) "The motherfucking alpha man-"

Angel Dust: "He's a fucking sub!!!!"

Seviathan: "What, like the sandwich? Shit. Are my pants fitting too tight again-"

Charlie: "Angel Dust."

Angel Dust: "Yesssss oh fearless leader...?

Charlie: (covers eyes) (turns) (escapes)

Charlie: "He's all yours."

Seviathan: "Whoa wait, where're you going-"

Charlie: "I'm gonna go surprise MY longtime girlfriend with kisses!"

Seviathan: "Hold on don't leave me with these two! Charlie!?"

Charlie: (already gone)

Seviathan: "For fuck's sake then I'm outta here too! I didn't come here to hang out with lame guys-"

Angel Dust: "Oh my little baby boy."

Angel Dust: (grins) (leans in) ".....how's the idea of a woman standin' over you with a whip make ya feel?"

Seviathan: "Good?"

Angel Dust: "Mm-hmm. An' if ya was wearing a collar?"

Seviathan: "..." (takes off hat) (holds it over crotch)

Husk: "Great. Another horrible memory to drown away with booze." (swigs)

Angel Dust: (draping arm around seviathan) "C'mon, let's find ya a dom who WON'T for real rail you with her spear~"

Seviathan: "Oh whoa."

Husk: "Oh fucking save me booze..." (down in one)

Niffty: (sobbing under floorboards)

Husk: "What the fuck? What's wrong with you?"

Niffty: "Th-the bad boys..." (sniffling) "... why are so many of them turning out LAME? Even the king of HELL asked me if I was OKAY when he stepped out his door in his ducky slippers and found me lying in front of it like a rug! WHAT IS WRONG WITH BAD MEN THESE DAYS!?"

Husk: "...."

Husk: "Here."

Husk: (hands down drink)

Niffty: (hands popping out to grabby grabby) "IT'S SO SAAAAAD HUSK!" (snatches) (gulps) (gulps) (faint thump and snoring)

Husk: "I can't fucking believe I risked my fucking life for this place."

Husk: (smiles anyway)

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #chaggie #angel dust hazbin hotel #husk hazbin hotel #niffty hazbin hotel #incorrect quotes #silly nonsese #somehow charlie's ex survives to live another day

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nataliesfirefly · 11 months ago

Text

You and I Walk a Fragile Line - Farleigh Start x F!Reader

a/n: hello!! this is my first fic i've ever uploaded so i'm pretty nervous, and i don't even know if anyone will read this but i thought i would contribute to the farleigh fics (also i'm obsessed with him)! this will be on an ongoing serious (hopefully) and i have a pretty interesting plot planned so stay tuned! i hope you enjoy and please leave feedback!!

word count: 3.3k

warnings: slight language

part 2, part 3, part 4

You couldn’t deny that you enjoyed the eccentric summers at Saltburn. It was rich and sultry, it felt free, like all your problems disappeared, like the world didn’t exist outside of the dreamy castle and neatly trimmed hedges. It was just you.

Well, you wish it was just you. You loved Felix’s family, they were always so kind to you. At this point, you were almost part of the Catton family in a way. Every summer, you traveled to Saltburn after a long and exhausting year of school. It was like a reward, you got through the year, so now you get to kick back with the rich people. But the Cattons just had this way about them. They were so out of touch, sheltered in their little rich lives, never having to work for anything just because of a title.

You certainly weren’t rich. Felix convinced you to apply to Oxford University with him, although everyone knew he was going to get in automatically due to the immense amount of wealth his last name carried. You spent countless hours in secondary school making sure to get amazing grades, throwing away your social life and free time. You ended up top of your class, earning a scholarship to Oxford.

It didn’t pay the whole tuition, but it helped, allowing you to have an average job to make some extra money before your first year. Now, it was your second year at Oxford, and you were comfortable.

For Felix, his time at Oxford was never exhausting or difficult. He preferred to spend his time partying, or at the pubs, drinking with all his friends. He never had to worry about his grades or schoolwork, because he didn’t have a scholarship to keep.

He always berated you for staying in every Friday and Saturday night, claiming that you always have your nose in some textbook. You didn’t like partying anyways, and you told him that.

“Please, just come out of your dorm for once. It’ll be fun, promise.” He used to beg, standing in your doorway. But you never ended up going, so finally he just stopped asking.

Besides, everytime you went out somewhere with Felix everyone assumed you two were dating, which earned you many cruel glances from almost every girl in the vicinity. You only saw Felix as a friend, a brother, in a way. He was always very empathetic despite his out of touch perspective on reality.

There was just one person you absolutely hated seeing every summer. Farleigh Start. Ever since you and Felix became friends, he hated your guts. You had no idea why. Maybe it was because you were the only other American around, since you grew up in the states before moving to England in your early teens. However, you couldn’t figure out why that would cause a rivalry between you two.

At Oxford, he always made fun of you for trying so hard. He just didn’t get it. He had everything given to him on a silver platter, a privilege of being close to the Catton family.

You tried to ignore him, but every single sarcastic or petty remark from his mouth made your blood boil with a rage you had never felt before. You couldn’t avoid him, because wherever Felix was, there was Farleigh. But at Saltburn, it was worse. You were forced to always be near him for two whole months and see that annoying little smirk on his face whenever he insulted you.

As you begin to organize your things in the guest room, you hear the shuffling of footsteps by your open door. You glance up from your suitcase, crouched on the floor, narrowing your eyes to see who is in the hallway.

It’s Farleigh. Of course it is, you think. He stands at your doorway, leaning against the frame, his curly hair adding to his height. He has this stupid grin on his face, like he’s about to say something to insult you.

“I had a feeling you were here. Everything just felt… annoying.” He has a cigarette in hand, taking a drag from it after his sentence. “Can you not smoke in my room, idiot?” You stand up, pressing a hand to your forehead in annoyance.

“Calm down. It’s not gonna kill you,” He crosses his arms and chuckles at you. “Afraid of a little smoke?” He teases in a mocking voice. “No, I just hate the smell. Get out, you’re taking up space.” You wave your hand, gesturing for him to leave as you approach him, ready to slam the door in his face if needed.

“Oh, I think you’re the one taking up space.” He lets out another breath of smoke, causing you to cough as it practically falls right in your face.

“Alright. Funny. Now leave,” You glare up at him, your brows furrowed in frustration. He scoffs and finally turns on his heel, walking down the hallway to Felix’s room, you assume. “So boring,” He mutters under his breath, but you heard loud and clear.

You decide to ignore his last little comment, groaning and closing the door, returning to your organizing.

A little while later, a knock sounds on your door. You climb off of your large bed and swing the door open, greeted by Venetia.

You both squeal and she immediately wraps her arms around you, nearly knocking you off of your feet. You and Venetia have become very close, and she’s almost like an older sister to you.

“Welcome back,” She grins, pulling away from the tight embrace. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever,” I reply, playing with a strand of her blonde hair. “Well, it’s been since last summer.” You two tried to stay in touch by texting or emailing every once in a while, but it was difficult with how busy you were.

“Yeah, I guess so.” She jumps on your bed and sits there like she’s waiting for you to tell her something.

“What?” You ask, giggling at the way she’s looking expectantly at you. “Have you found a boyfriend yet?” She questions, smirking mischeviously. “No! No, I don’t have time for that.” You shake your head, hanging up a dress in your closet.

“Oh my God, you’re killing me! You say that every single time. Have you ever heard of, like, a hook-up? One night stand?” She exclaims. “That doesn’t take any time at all. No commitment. Just trying something out,” Venetia throws her hands up.

“Well, I don’t want to right now. I have no interest in it.” You return to your suitcase, grabbing a pair of shorts and folding them, desperately hoping to change the subject.

You had experience in the things Venetia spoke about. Your first year at Oxford, you certainly lost control of a few things. You were just being young and dumb, confused and curious about what these college boys had to offer. It never brought you any real pleasure, just a distraction and a story to tell your girlfriends the next day at dinner.

You’d never had a real, long-lasting relationship either. It just didn’t interest you, especially since you were so focused on doing well in school and keeping your scholarship. Venetia stills insists on finding you a boyfriend or matching you up with a stranger.

“Look, I made that mistake my first year. Random dudes. I could’ve gotten an STD or some shit,” You throw the folded shorts into a drawer. “But it was fun, right?” She chews on one of her nails, watching you pace around the room.

“No. Not really. They didn’t do anything for me. Most of the time I was half asleep.” You shrug nonchalanty as Venetia laughs loudly. “Damn. Well, then you just found the wrong guys.”

“Then where do you find the right ones?” You ask, whipping around to face her. She shrugs. “I don’t know, they just kind of… flock to me. Like birds.” There’s a pause of silence before you both burst out in laughter. “Yeah, whatever.” You roll her eyes although you know there’s some truth to that statement. It was always effortless for her.

“I’m gonna find you someone. Trust me. You deserve the best of the best,” She grins and stands up, stepping out of your room. “I’ll see you at dinner!” She calls over her shoulder as she starts down the hall.

Dinner feels like nothing has changed. You all sit around the dining table having casual conversations about school and gossip while enjoying some traditional English food.

Unfortunately, you’ve been sat right across from Farleigh. You can barely glance up from your plate without catching one of his cold glares. You spaced out for a moment and as you zone back in, you realize the topic has shifted to relationships and dating.

Felix nudges your arm, pointing his fork at you. “What about you?” You glance over to him. “What?” You ask, unsure of what he’s questioning.

“Have you got a boyfriend yet?” He replies, tilting his head. You feel the rest of the table staring you down as you try to think of an answer.

“Uhh, no. Not yet.” You lower your head down, hoping your hair will hide your reddening face.

“She’s incapable of that,” Farleigh interjects quickly. “I mean, it’s never been easy for her.” He chuckles slightly, amused at himself. You raise your gaze to him, trying not to show how his comments just affected you.

“Farleigh, don’t be rude.” Elspeth shoots him a glare and shakes her head. Felix pats your shoulder. “It’s alright, really. All the guys at Oxford are dicks anyway. Don’t deserve someone as kind as you,” You can tell he pities you and is trying to make you feel better.

You look back to Farleigh. “Farleigh, I don’t remember the last time you dated someone. When was it, like, two years ago?” You tilt your head tauntingly and wait for his reaction, a smile tugging at your lips.

“I didn’t know you paid so much attention to my love life,” He shoots back. He’s skilled at hiding his reactions and it kills you.

“It’s just so bleak and desperate it’s hard not to notice it,” You pucker your lips to demonstrate fake sadness.

“Alright, you two. Calm down,” Felix holds up his hands, shaking his head.

“I think that she’s just focused on school right now. As she should be, I mean, that’s why you guys are there. To get an education.” Venetia quickly comes to your rescue, seated on the other side of you.

“Right. Right, I agree.” Elspeth adds, nodding aggressively.

Your eyes meet Farleigh’s again, and this time its an even sharper glare with that familiar taunting and mocking vibe. You feel yourself burn up with rage. You try to hold eye contact with him but you end up glancing away due to the heat creeping across your face.

Later that night, you are walking through one of the many dark hallways of the mansion. You still get lost sometimes, despite the many summers you have spent here. You stop to glance out a window, marvelling at the vast courtyard and landscape beyond, pale moonlight shining down and casting large shadows.

You continue walking quietly, attempting to get back to your room, but for some reason you realize you are on the other side of the house. These hallways have never been easy to navigate, especially at night. You curse under your breath and shake your head, continuing in the same direction.

You pass a door that is slightly ajar, and out of curiosity, you pause and take a few steps back. You peer through the crack, and you swear your heart drops to your ass when you realize this is Farleigh’s room.

He’s sitting on his bed, reading a book. You’ve never seen him so peaceful. His face is relaxed, instead of the usual scowl or sneer. After a moment of you staring at him, Farleigh suddenly closes his book and reaches over to place it on his bedside table, causing him to glance in the direction of the door. He looks away, then looks back, doing a double take as he seems to notice your presence.

Fuck. You wince as you step back from the door, trying to make up your mind on whether you should try to escape or just deal with the repurcussions of your creepy behavior you didn’t even mean.

But your legs won’t seem to obey what your brain is telling them to do. You are just frozen, stuck in place as Farleigh opens the door all the way.

There’s a moment of silence as he stares down at you, quirking an eyebrow.

“Well, well, well. Look who showed up at my door,” He crosses his arms in amusement, a smug smile across his face.

“I got lost. That’s all.” You run a hand through your hair while shaking your head. “And does getting lost also consist of watching me from outside my door?” He tilts his head. You shake your head quickly.

“No. That’s not what I was doing. Don’t flatter yourself,” You look back up at him and roll your eyes.

“Right.” Farleigh nods, not looking very convinced. “Never took you for a stalker.” He adds with a taunting smirk.

You let out a sigh of exasperation, turning away and facing the long stretch of the hallway. “Okay, I’ll be going now.” You raise a hand to wave before starting down the hall. “Goodnight!” Farleigh calls after you in a singsong voice, making you clench your fists in anger.

You didn’t really remember when the hatred between you two started. You did remember, however, the evening you two met.

It was your first summer at the Saltburn estate, and you were still in secondary school. You were extremely nervous since you had to be on your best behavior around these rich people. What were you even supposed to say? Or do?

You and Felix arrived together that afternoon, and after a tour of the mansion from Felix and an hour or so to yourself, you were going downstairs for dinner.

You walked in to the dining room, standing close behind Felix, before taking a seat at the long table next to him.

A tall boy with dark, curly hair sat on the other side of you. You looked over and smiled at him. You assumed that this was Felix’s cousin, Farleigh, since Felix had shown you a few pictures of them together.

He looked expensive. His jewlery, his clothes, the overall aura surrounding him seemed rich. It made sense, since he was considered a member of the Catton family. Felix informed you that his father paid for Farleigh’s education and everything else as a way to say sorry for whatever family drama had happened. You couldn’t remember the long story.

“Farleigh! This is my new friend from school,” Felix said as he introduced you. You offered a small wave.

“So you must be the cousin I’ve heard so much about,” You said. Farleigh glanced at Felix with a confused expression.

“She’s American?” He asked. Felix nodded and nudged you to continue talking. “Yeah, I grew up in the states. I moved here when I was thirteen,” You explained. Farleigh just stared at you, expressionless.

“Cool,” He said nonchalantly, as if he didn’t care about anything you just said. “So, are you two dating?” He asked, gesturing to you and Felix.

“Oh- No, no. Just friends,” You chuckled and Felix did the same after sharing a quick glance with you. You really were just good friends, you got along well, but no one believed it.

“Right.” Farleigh scoffed and rolled his eyes. Felix leaned in slightly and muttered, “Ignore him.” You couldn’t help but turn back to Farleigh.

“So, how did school go for you this year?” You asked with a smile. “Alright, I guess.” You could tell he was annoyed by your questions as he sighed and looked around.

“Okay, be a dick, then.” You muttered, giving up on trying to make conversation with him. At this, he sat straighter and turned to you. “And what are you, some scholarship kid? How did you get into a school like Westminster?” He furrowed his brows and his tone became harsh.

“Oh, by being smart and passing the entrance exam. Not everything is achieved with just money,” You replied back, maintaining your composure effortlessly.

“And you would know that,” He responded in a lowered voice, but you heard loud and clear.

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, the rest of the family sat down at the table, meaning dinner was about to commence. All you could do was shoot knives at him with your eyes and hope he would notice. This was going to be a long summer.

The next day you sit with Venetia on the grass by the lake. She convinced you to come out with her to tan, and you figured it might be good for you considering how pale your skin is from staying indoors all the time. You hardly ever got any sun besides walking around on campus, but right now you were enjoying the warmth.

You lean back, using your forearms for support against the grass. You still feel a bit self conscious since you can’t remember the last time you wore a bikini this risqué.

“Why don’t you wear stuff like this more often?” Venetia asks, turning her head to face you. “You look like a model, seriously.” She grins and takes a sip of her drink.

You shrug. You glance out at the lake and admire the way the sun reflects off the surface, all the little ripples and overgrowth of leaves near the side.

“There they are. Hey, you two!” You perk up at Felix’s voice. You sit up a bit to look over your shoulder, but your excitement is soon diminished when you notice Farleigh walking next to him. You quickly turn your attention back to the lake.

You feel someone’s presence behind you. You throw your head back, looking up to see Farleigh peering down at you.

“You actually got her to go outside for once? Shocking,” He chuckles. You follow him with your eyes as he walks closer to the edge of the lake with Felix. “Leave her alone, Farleigh.” Venetia replies in an agitated tone.

A few moments later, Felix is taking off his shirt and tossing it to the ground. He runs a hand through his hair, then promptly jumps into the lake. Farleigh follows suit, and you know you shouldn’t be watching. But just like last night, you can’t take your eyes off of him.

Your eyes trail down his back, and you notice his muscles flexing as he takes his shirt off. You subconsciously bite your lip, then remember it’s fucking Farleigh. You mentally curse at yourself before peeling your gaze away, trying to focus on anything but him.

For some reason, you can’t shake the image of a shirtless Farleigh from your mind. You wished he had turned around so you could see the front of him, or even– No. Stop!

You decide to go inside before your thoughts get the best of you. You stand up abruptly, causing Venetia to look up at you.

“Where are you off to?” She asks, lowering her sunglasses. “Uhh… I’m just really hot. I’ll see you later,” As you start back, you can’t help but glance over your shoulder to see if Farleigh is watching you go.

You catch his gaze, and despite the heat, you shiver as his eyes trail up and down your exposed body. You can’t explain why your heart starts racing or why you want him to keep watching you. You hate him. You hate him, but you’re so curious about what it would feel like to have his hands on your waist or in your hair. You hate him so much, but you wonder how it would feel to be underneath him, completely under his control.

But you hate him, right?

#farleigh start #farleigh start x reader #farleigh saltburn #saltburn #x reader #farleigh x reader #farleigh x you

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ckret2 · 1 year ago

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Chapter 21 of honestly everyone's just sorta used to Bill being the shack's prisoner now (title tbd): Stan & Ford have a birthday party! Bill is not invited. He still manages to find a way to be fiendishly evil.

Also featuring: Wendy deciding what she thinks about "Goldie," the shack's mysterious secret "guest."

####

Mabel slid a piece of paper across the gas station front counter, listing a dozen scratch card serial numbers spread across three different games. "I'd like these numbers in these cards, please!"

The cashier gave the paper a dubious look, then looked at Wendy. "We're not supposed to sell the scratch cards outta order."

"Please?" Wendy asked. "Just a little exception? For us?"

"We really wanna play our lucky numbers," Mabel said. "Plus, I had a vision. In my sleep."

She and Wendy gave him their best big-eyed hopeful pouty looks.

The cashier shrank back. "Well..." He averted his gaze from the adorableness that was Mabel, and sighed. "Just this once. But I don't want to see you two in here with your nonsense again." He started unrolling one of the spools of scratch cards, inspecting the numbers. "These'll be over a hundred dollars."

Wendy winced. "Ooh. Mabel?"

Mabel offered three dollars and a quarter. "That's fine! Can we start with 177 from the beach cards?"

She received the card, depicting a pastel beachy scene next to five miniature bingo boards. She confidently scratched off the card to reveal its winning numbers, pointed at the fourth bingo board where she'd just gotten bingo, and said, "That's $200! Our payout, please."

The cashier took the card, inspected the numbers, and stared at Mabel in amazement. She grinned at him. Wordlessly, he opened his cash register, pulled out several twenties, and offered them over.

"Thank you!" Mabel accepted the money and pointed at the paper. "The rest of our cards, please?"

As they left with eleven scratch cards, Mabel handed Wendy three twenties—"Here! For helping!"—and stuck the rest of the change in her pocket.

"Dude. That was awesome. You were so cool in there, like—" Wendy put on her coolest, most unruffled expression. "'Our payout, please.'"

"That's just the kind of rock star I am." Mabel put the scratch cards in her bike's basket. "Thanks for the help, Wendy!"

"Sure, any time." Especially if she got a surprise $60 out of it. "Heading back to the shack?"

"Yeah! I've gotta finish decorating for the party!" Mabel waved as she took off down the road. "See you then!"

"See you." She guessed that meant she wasn't invited to hang until the party started. Given the touchy situation inside the shack, no surprises there.

She wondered what Goldie had to do with Mabel's interesting trick with the scratch cards. She was sure there was something.

####

Bill leaned into the kitchen. "Hey! How's that cake coming along?"

Mabel stopped arranging dozens of candles in the frosting to point at the door. "Out, Bill! Nobody's getting cake until the party!"

Dipper said, "You don't even deserve a slice."

"Agree to disagree!" Bill said. "But if you don't give me one anyway, I'll annoy you about it for weeks."

"He can have a slice at the party," Mabel said. "The cake's big enough." A couple of overcrowded candles spilled off the edge of the cake. Mabel picked them up and carefully stuck them back in.

Bill fought back a laugh. "Are you sure about all those candles? If you light 'em all up at once, you'll burn off everyone's eyebrows," he said. "But unfortunately, you'd also melt the frosting."

"The frosting's already a mess," Mabel said, peering at the barely-visible HAPPY BIRTHDAY STAN & FORD hidden beneath the forest of candles. "But Soos doesn't have any of those number-shaped candles, so..."

"Roman numerals," Bill said.

"Oooh." Mabel looked at the cake thoughtfully, and started pulling out candles. "How do you make 62?"

"LXII. Fifty-ten-one-one," Bill said, then shot a grin at Dipper—who was glaring at Bill for answering before he could. "Isn't that right, smart guy?"

"Yeah," Dipper grumbled.

"You kids take the credit if they ask about the candles," Bill said. "They'll just get grumpy if they know I had any influence on the decorations."

Mabel carefully tilted the bottom leg of the L just enough to keep the tip out of the frosting, and started smoothing out the rest of the candle-pockmarked surface. "Now I've got enough empty frosting to add some decorations!" Mabel said. "I don't have enough time to draw something complicated. Maybe rainbows?"

Dipper shook his head. "I don't think either of them would be into that."

"Draw gold bars," Bill said.

Mabel blew a raspberry. "That's what you'd want on a cake!"

"No, I'd want me on a cake. Stanley likes gold! Stanford should like gold more, you could help him develop a taste for it."

"No."

Dipper suggested, "Maybe you could draw gambling stuff on Stan's side of the cake? Since they couldn't have their birthday party in Vegas like he wanted." Dipper shot a sideways glance at the reason they had to stay in Gravity Falls. (Bill shrugged. It wasn't like he'd asked the Stan twins to stay in town.) "You could do poker chips or playing cards or—"

"Dice!" Mabel said. "Dipper that's perfect, they both like dice! We can put normal dice on Grunkle Stan's side and nerdy dice on Grunkle Ford's—"

"Oh, that's great! I've got my DD&MD dice bag in the attic!"

"I'll look in the board game closet!"

Dipper and Mabel took off.

Bill waited until he was sure they were gone.

He checked out the kitchen window for witnesses, then picked up a dozen abandoned birthday candles, licked off the frosting, and hid the candles in his hoodie's hood. Too bad they hadn't left a matchbook out, but Bill knew a fun little trick with an empty aluminum can and a tube of toothpaste that would work just fine.

When the kids returned and Mabel stuffed the remaining forty-odd candles back in their box, they never noticed any were missing.

####

Mabel had put herself in charge of the guest list. Which explained why, along with Stan and Ford's actual friends, all Mabel's friends had been invited; as well as—among other people—the mayor ("he's like the Mystery Shack's best customer, Grunkle Stan!"), Shmebulock ("Jeff said Shmebulock stole the Journal 4 you started last fall, I was hoping he might gift it back"), and the Hand Witch and her boyfriend. ("Whaaat, Grunkle Ford you met her TOO?! What a coincidence! Dipper, did you know he met—oh, you did. I didn't read those pages!") It would have been a lot more awkward if not for the fact that the birthday boys were awed and humbled that so many people had attended knowing they were coming to a birthday party for Stan and Ford Pines, and none of the guests had even been bribed.

When Soos and Melody helped Mabel carry out the birthday cake, Ford laughed at the sight of it. "Did you make Roman numerals out of candles? How clever! Stanley, do you know what Roman—"

"Yeah, yeah. I watch the Football Bowl, you know," Stan said. "Honestly, I was expecting this thing to be covered in candles."

"I almost went that route," Mabel said. "But I thought I'd save that kind of firepower for the Fourth of July."

"Hah! That's my girl."

"Happy Birthday" was sung, candles were blown out, and the party lined up to get their cake. Mabel cut a slice, loaded it on a paper plate, then glanced toward the attic window. "I'll be right back! I've gotta use the bathroom. Don't open my presents until I'm back!"

She trotted into the house, taking the cake, a napkin, and a plastic spoon with her.

####

Bill met Mabel at the top of the stairs and scooped the cake out of her hands. "You're my hero, star girl." He carried it halfway back to his window seat, stopped mid-step, and asked, "You got a piece with my name on it?"

"I got the slice with the 'Birt' and took off the extra frosting!"

"Oh," Bill said. "Heh. That's—cute." And he looked so much like he was trying to pretend he wasn't genuinely touched by the gesture, that Mabel didn't have the heart to tell him she'd only thought of it halfway up the stairs.

He flopped back in his usual window seat post—where, Mabel couldn't help but notice, he had a perfect view of the party happening outside without him. She grimaced. "I'm sorry you can't come to the party," she said. "But you did torture and try to murder the birthday boys... and most of the party guests... and left half of them with lingering trauma..."

"Speaking of, how's your therapist doing?"

"Oh, good, she's good. I think she's gonna write a paper about Mabeland."

Bill fell silent, staring out the window. Mabel almost went downstairs—when he said, "You know, I was the only person who gave Stanford a gift on his thirtieth birthday."

Mabel turned back around so fast she almost tripped on the top step. It wasn't often she got a double dose of Bill lore and Grunkle lore. "You were?"

"He didn't make new friends in Oregon and he didn't keep up with his old friends from college. His parents mailed him a gift, but it got here a week late. So I taught him a couple spells to see the stars during the day and keep rain from landing on him, and told him where to be in Portland that afternoon if he wanted to pick up a free cake from a fancy bakery."

"Aww. That was... nice of you." But Mabel had to hesitate before saying it, automatically wondering what Bill's motives had been for giving the gifts and what his motive now was for sharing this.

Bill waved a hand dismissively. "Ahh, they were parlor tricks. They're easy, flashy cantrips that impress humans but don't do any harm," he said. "Not much harm, anyway. That night he told me all about how he was the only human to see his zodiac constellation on his birthday. The genius spent all day staring at the sun so he could see the stars!" He laughed.

But it quickly petered out. "And now I'm personally banned from his birthday party. Funny, huh?"

Maybe Bill was trying to get Mabel to pity him; but she kinda thought he was just pitying himself. She patted his shoulder sympathetically. "Losing friends is tough," she said. She paused. "And that's why we should be nice to them."

Bill cracked up so loudly Mabel half expected the party outside to hear him. "Okay, Glory Unicorn! I've learned today's moral about friendship. Get outta here. See if I ever tell you anything again." But he was grinning as he shooed her off.

####

When Mabel came back cakeless, Dipper gave her a dark look, but said nothing.

"Are we opening gifts yet?" Mabel picked up a box and flung an arm around Dipper's shoulder. "You've gotta open this one first! It's from both of us to both of you!" She waved it at Stan and Ford until they took it together.

Ford pointed at the card that said, "To our Grunkles, from your gniece and gnephew!" "That isn't how you spell niece and nephew?" Stan elbowed him.

"Nope!" Mabel said. "But it's how you abbreviate great-niece and great-nephew."

"Ah, I see! Very creative."

"Nice recovery," Stan muttered. Ford elbowed him back. Together they tore off the wrapping paper and opened their box.

Inside were two more boxes, each small enough to hold in one hand—a square one labeled "Stan" and a long narrow one labeled "Ford."

Stan opened his box and pulled out a thick gold chain with a coin dangling from it. Engraved on the coin in sloppy text were the words "#1 Grunkle."

Soos held up a hand. "I did the engraving! First try."

Mabel pointed at the coin. "We made it out of pirate treasure that we have for reasons that we can't talk about! There's a skull on the back!"

They'd hung it from his favorite gold chain. He'd been missing it for a week—and he'd never even suspected the kids. How about that. Choked up, Stan said, "It's—it's great." He took off the chain he was currently wearing, chucked it into the bushes, and put on his gift. "C'mere, you two." He wrapped his arms around Dipper and Mabel.

Soos held his arms out hopefully. Stan rolled his eyes, but waved him over for a hug too.

Ford opened his box. "A pen?"

Dipper said, "It has an ergonomic grip, can take standard ink refills, writes super smoothly—I tested it out myself—makes a very satisfying click, and it's red with gold trim to match your journals."

Mabel said, "I helped pick out the design!"

"... And that's why it's also sparkly."

"I didn't do the engraving on that one," Soos said. "We had a lotta spare pirate coins but only one pen, so. They got it done at the mall."

Ford rotated the pen in his hand until he spotted the (more professional-looking) engraving on the barrel, filled in with gold. "Mine says #1 Grunkle too?"

Dipper said, "C'mon, we're not gonna choose between you two."

Stan said, "Oh, I see how it is! Trying to butter us both up, are you?" He reached under Dipper's hat to ruffle his hair. Smiling, Ford carefully slid his gift into his coat's breast pocket next to his usual pen.

####

When Bill saw that Mabel was back outside, he got up, left the rest of his cake on the window seat, scooted aside a storage box sitting forgotten in a corner of the attic, and pried a loose board from the wall.

He took his stolen candles out of his hood, wrapped them in the party napkin Mabel had given him, and stashed them in a plastic sandwich bag where he'd already stowed a crushed cider can, its edges torn and sharp.

Then he re-hid the bag, fixed the wall, replaced the storage box, gently brushed some cobwebs over the floor to hide the trail in the dust where he'd scooted the box, and turned away from his hiding spot.

To see a gnome wearing a journal like a backpack.

They stared at each other.

"You didn't see anything," said Bill.

"Shmebulock," said Shmebulock.

Bill eyed Shmebulock, the staircase, the window—and then dropped into a crouch, knees and feet spread apart like a sumo wrestler, teeth bared.

Shmebulock cracked his knuckles.

Five minutes later, Bill added Journal 4 to his hiding spot, with a mental note to find a new hiding spot the gnomes didn't know about later.

Unfortunately, Shmebulock escaped with Bill's cake.

####

Wendy squinted up at the blonde shape in the attic window. "You know—all this last week, I kept thinking I saw someone up there. I just assumed it was my imagination," she said. "Guess Goldie didn't get invited to the birthday party, huh?"

"Nope," Dipper said. "And for good reason."

Wendy laughed. "Yeah, sounds it."

Dipper glanced toward his grunkles. At the moment, Ford was opening a cheap set of watercolor paints and giving Mabel an exasperated look. ("I thought we could try them out together! And hate them together!" "All right, that might be fun.") He lowered his voice and picked at his cake. "So. You found out the big secret, huh?"

"Yup," Wendy said. She lightly punched Dipper's shoulder. "Hey—don't look so glum, man. I'm not mad you didn't tell me. There's some kind of family drama and a missing person case involved. I get it—you don't talk about that kind of stuff outside the family."

"Yeah, hah. Right," Dipper said. "So, what do you think of... Goldie?"

Wendy glanced up at the figure in the window. "We didn't talk a whole bunch before Goldie and Stan started arguing about plagiarism," she said, "but I got that she's some kind of wildcard paranormal investigator who gives off insane grifter energy. And seems really mentally messed up from being trapped in another dimension, but like, the kind of messed up that probably makes you fun at parties?" She was already mentally playing Goldie off of her friend group, trying to figure out how well she'd mesh with them. She seemed like the kind of person who'd be into some harmless trespassing and recreational vandalism. "How old is Goldie? She was working on a Ph.D., so that's what, mid-20s? Mid-20s but actually mid-50s after not aging for thirty years? Honestly, if I just met her on the street I would've thought she was like, 15. She does not look her age." Maybe it was the lack of makeup?

Under his breath, Dipper muttered, "You have no idea." He glanced away from Wendy, stuffed a large forkful of cake in his mouth, and mumbled to himself, "How much should I say? Sharing too much could be dangerous, but if I don't say anything..." Mumble, mumble.

Wendy would never tell Dipper how funny it was that he monologued to himself and hoped nobody would notice. Usually she'd politely ignore him, but if there was something dangerous... She lightly elbowed him. "Dipper. Come on," she said. "I can tell something's eating you. You can trust me."

"Ugh, I know, but..." Dipper glanced again at the rest of the birthday party—just far enough to be out of earshot, currently entranced by some thingamajig Fiddleford had gifted the Stans—and let out a heavy sigh. Voice low, he said, "Okay, Wendy, listen. For your own safety, you need to know that Goldie is way worse than whatever you heard about him last night. And I can't tell you why, because of reasons I also can't tell you—believe me, I wish I could tell you, but—don't trust him, okay?" Dipper gave her an earnest, pleading look. "Just don't. He's dangerous. That's all I can say."

It figured that even after Wendy learned the big secret, she'd just find another, smaller secret hidden underneath. Like a matryoshka doll. (She quietly made note of the "he" and wondered if Goldie had been part of the queer scene in the 80s, or if he'd only figured himself out while he was in ghost land.) "I'm assuming he's dangerous for Weird Spooky Paranormal reasons?"

"Yeah," Dipper said, teeth grit. "Yeah, basically."

He wanted to tell her more, she wanted to know more, and she was ready to play 20 questions on Goldie's backstory. Picking through what she'd learned last night for clues, Wendy asked, "Is it connected to Ford's research? All the weird magic stuff he got into?"

"Um." Dipper shrugged uncertainly. "Y...yeah? But... bigger than that?"

"Is it portal stuff." What was the most dangerous thing she knew of that was connected to the portal. "Is it Bill stuff."

Dipper let out an anguished groan, pulled off his hat, and buried his face in it. "I can't tell you more than I already have!"

"Oh my god it's Bill stuff."

Dipper eloquently said, "MRRGHF."

"Okay got it, so Goldie was some kind of Bill groupie or discovered how to summon him or something. Something like that. I don't need to know the details! But he's totally Bill-adjacent."

"Yeah. Yeah. Yep." Dipper nodded emphatically. "Bill-adjacent is... the best way to describe Goldie."

"But Bill's gone, right? So Goldie's like a cultist without a cult leader. Doesn't that mean he's harmless now?" Wendy asked. "Or do you think he's gonna try to cause the apocalypse in honor of his boss or whatever."

Dipper tugged his hat back on his head and straightened it out. "I'm sure he'd try to end the world again if he could, but... we're all still trying to figure out what he can do."

"So, domestic terrorism risk. Cool," Wendy said. "Y'know, I sorta expected to run into a guy like that in the shack eventually, but I always thought they'd be here because of Stan, not Ford." She rolled her eyes. "I'll warn you if he starts talking about ending the world or anything."

"Thanks, Wendy." Dipper glanced uneasily toward the birthday party. (They were still distracted, currently trying to douse the flamethrower on Fiddleford's birthday gift. It was trying to eliminate the competitor gifts.) "Just... don't tell anybody else, okay? If the town finds out that Goldie is—you know—Bill-adjacent..."

"Relax." She pantomimed zipping her mouth. "I'm not gonna organize an angry mob."

She glanced up at the attic window. Goldie was still up there, staring down at the party. He noticed Wendy staring and made a face at her.

She made the same face back, and saw him silently laughing. Okay, he had bad taste in friends, obviously; but Goldie seemed kinda cool in an unhinged way. From what Wendy had gathered, Bill had conned and then betrayed half the people she knew—and if the Pines had only just managed to get Goldie back on this plane of reality, months after Weirdmageddon, that meant Bill hadn't bothered to rescue him when he could, so Goldie was just another victim. Maybe he just needed to be reintegrated into society.

Dipper said, "Hey, Stan just poured punch on the robot and it made the fire worse. Do you think we should help?"

Wendy looked at the fire—and looked up at the fire. She was moving before she spoke. "Yeah, let's do something about that."

They rejoined the rest of the party, and Wendy put Goldie out of her mind.

####

Ford stared at the ring on his left sixth finger.

Welcome back, the Hand Witch had said.

Thirty years ago, he'd met her at a carnival. She'd told him that he'd chosen the wrong allies and would doom himself for it. She'd given him a ring with a blue cabochon and told him that if it ever turned black, there was no hope for him.

He'd dismissed her as a phony palm reader; and, the night he'd decided Bill was right about Fiddleford not being bold enough to follow through with the portal project, the ring had turned black, and he'd thrown it in the lake.

Now here it was on his finger again.

He didn't think her a phony now. Everything she'd told him had been true. And anyway, it was hard to doubt she had real magic when she spent half the party trying to stop two small disembodied hands from escaping her pockets to visit Mabel.

"Why are you giving this back to me?"

"It's your birthday! And I thought it might be useful."

"For what? Am I in danger?"

"I don't know, I'd have to give you another reading to see." She had pulled a cartomancy deck from her pocket. "Do you want me to?" The card on the bottom of the deck had been a triangle with a snake slithering through its eye socket.

Ford hadn't wanted a reading. He knew now that what he'd called superstition back at that carnival might be a legitimate form of prophecy he simply didn't understand; but he was tired of living his life by signs and portends.

All the same, it was comforting to see that his ring was blue.

Ford's view of the ring was blocked by Stan shoving over the "Get Out Of One Misdemeanor Free" coupon Mayor Cutebiker had given as his birthday gift. "Hey, do you think I'd get in trouble if I made a buncha copies of this?"

Ford took the coupon and inspected it thoughtfully. "If you do get in trouble... a coupon counterfeiting charge couldn't possibly be worse than a misdemeanor, could it?"

"That's what I like to hear!"

It had been a surprisingly long day—and, by far, the best birthday either of them had had in well over forty years. (Was it really that long?) Now they were retired to the parlor Soos and Abuelita had converted into a double guest room, sitting on their beds facing each other as they got ready for sleep.

There was a knock at the door. Ford stood. "Coming—" He opened the door to see Bill's grinning face, a foot from his own. "Oh. You." Ford resisted the urge to step back, in case Bill interpreted as an invitation to come in.

"Hiya, birthday boy!" Bill's gaze immediately drifted down to Ford's coat pocket. "Hey—new pen? I like the sparkle, adds a little pizazz."

"What do you want, Cipher."

"Just to hand this over." Bill pressed a couple of envelopes into Ford's chest, and kept them pinned there with a fingertip until Ford reluctantly took them. "I knew you'd hate getting something from me at your party, so just for you I waited until all the festivities were over. You're welcome."

Ford studied the envelopes. They were two pieces of yellow construction paper that had been folded into envelope shape, and written on each one, in lurching crayon text that drifted up and down, was "Stanford" and "Stanley". "You made cards?"

"You're flattered."

"I most certainly am not."

"'The lady doth protest too much, methinks.'" Bill shrugged. "Hey, they're your birthday gifts. Toss them in the fire if that makes you happiest. You just might wanna open them first—you know, to make sure I didn't write a fire-activated explosion spell on the inside."

Stan grabbed his envelope out of Ford's hand and eyed it in deep suspicion. "And why did you make these?"

"Because it's your birthday. Come on! Why am I explaining this, it's your species's ritual."

"I mean why are you doing it? We all hate each other. We're planning your execution, here," Stan said. "So what's your angle?"

"What do you need my measurements for, you pervert."

"ALL right—" Stan stepped toward Bill, cracking his knuckles, and was only stopped by Ford's hand across his chest.

Bill leaned back against the hallway's opposite wall. "Whoa! Consider this a peace offering! You know—'no hard feelings for all the murder, attempted or planned'! I can be a polite house guest, even if I'm not a voluntary one." Bill smiled wryly, "I'm trapped on an alien planet where I know less than a dozen people and all of them hate me. It gets boring." He looked directly in Ford's eyes. "And we've got history. Is it so hard to believe I might want to be friends again?"

This time, Stan had to put a hand across Ford's chest.

Ford said, "You're up to something."

"Is that a statement or a question?"

"Statement."

"Then you don't want an answer. Enjoy your gifts! Or don't, I'm not your boss." Bill waved, and slunk around the corner back toward the living room.

Ford shut the door. He sat on his bed, examined the envelope, and glanced at Stan, who was sitting on his bed doing the same thing.

They grimaced at each other.

"Okay," Stan said. "Is this more dangerous if we do open it or don't open it?" He hefted his envelope in his hand. "This thing's pretty heavy for just a card."

"Is it?" Ford's wasn't very heavy. He turned on a lamp on a bedside table and held the envelope up in front of it, trying to see through the construction paper. "I think he's counting on us to open these. I doubt he set a trap that will activate if we leave it closed—it's not his style."

"So, what do we think. Some kinda hypnotic mind-control magic that's activated by reading it? Or is he just trying to bribe us into liking him better?"

"He probably doesn't have hypnotic mind-control magic. If he did, why would he have spent so long trying to manipulate humans into doing his bidding?"

"I dunno, maybe he's stupid."

Testily, Ford said, "He's not stupid."

"No—listen, I've been thinking about this for months," Stan said. "You spent thirty years hopping between a zillion different dimension, right? If there's already safe portals out there, why'd he spend so long tricking someone into building a crummy one that'd destroy the universe, instead of using one of those? He's gotta be stupid!"

"I've... wondered the same thing about the portal," Ford admitted grudgingly. "But, no—I've seen him use so many roundabout tricks to manipulate minds that if he were capable of overt mind control, I'm sure he'd have used it by now."

"Fine, so mind control's off the table. But we're probably safer if we leave these alone. If we open them, they might be an annoying attempt to kiss up to us, or they might be dangerous." Stan waved his envelope like a fan. "And, we're gonna open them anyway, because not knowing will kill us, right?"

In his youth, Ford had arrogantly looked down on Pandora. "Of course we're going to open them."

They opened their envelopes.

They both contained a sheet of type paper folded in half with nothing on the front and messages written inside. Ford's read, "Stanford– I'd tell you to go to hell, but you'd barely be there long enough for it to be worth the trip. Happy birthday! –Δέος" Charming. Particularly out of the heel who'd just claimed he wanted to be friends.

"Hey, what is this?" Stan held his letter out for Ford to see: "Stanley– You were only the accomplice. I won't hold a grudge. Happy birthday! –Δέος" Stan pointed at the last word, "Is this some kind of curse?"

"A signature. Bill's real name isn't 'Bill Cipher'—it's just one of many nicknames he uses when communicating with humans. And, when writing to people who know him well, he prefers to sign with that nickname. It's pronounced déos." It meant awe—whether manifested in the form of fear or reverence. And it probably was no coincidence that Bill had picked a word that, to the untrained ear, sounded so much like the Latin deus—god.

Once, long ago, waking up to find his own hand had written a letter signed by "Awe" in a foreign alphabet had filled Ford with awe. Now... well, now it looked a little try-hard, didn't it. "Between you and me, I think Bill likes that signature best because it starts with a triangle." In Bill's handwriting, the delta looked unusually equilateral.

"Really fond of his own face, isn't he," Stan said, digging in the envelope for the rest of his "gift"—and he pulled out a handful of scratch cards. "What the...?"

How the heck had Bill gotten his hands on those? Ford checked to see if his envelope had the same—and came out with five pieces of notebook paper instead, still tattered on the edge from being torn out of a spiral notebook, covered front and back with writing—multiple languages, some inhuman, with a smattering of complex sigils and symbols. The first line on the first page read "Spell to Resurrect Fowl (chicken, turkey, duck, etc.��funny at dinner parties!)" Ford slapped the pages face down on his nightstand without reading the next line.

"What is it?" Stan asked.

"Magic," Ford said, voice flat with irritation.

"A trap—?"

"No. Magic for me. Spells I don't know. The kind of knowledge I'd—document in my journals."

Stan processed that. He tossed his scratch cards down on his own nightstand. "Lemme get this straight," he said. "Less than two weeks since he tried to kill us, with no access to the outside world and no resources at his disposal but his stupid wits—without even getting his hands on a freaking envelope—he somehow managed to get us both thoughtful, considerate gifts that are deeply relevant to our personal interests and passions! Is that about right?"

"It seems to be, yes."

"That jerk! I oughta wring his neck!"

Ford nodded in agreement. "I didn't know you're into scratch cards." He tamped down the urge to lecture Stan on the statistical improbability of making a profit.

"See, if even you didn't know, now I'm even madder that he does!" Stan groaned in frustration. "I kicked the habit. Still like playing 'em if I get them as a gift."

"Hmm." That was all right, then. Couldn't lose money on scratch cards if somebody else had spent the money.

They glared together at their thoughtful, relevant, deeply unwanted gifts, trying to decide what to do about them. Stan was the first to let out a resigned sigh and snatch his up. "What the heck. They're already paid for, I'm not gonna throw away potential free money just because it came from him." He fished around in his discarded pants pockets for a quarter. "But I'm not gonna enjoy myself!" He flipped through the cards, noting they were each labeled in a corner from 1/11 to 11/11, and muttered, "Why'd he draw triangles on some of the numbers?"

Well, if Stan had caved into his curiosity... Back into the box, Pandora, and perhaps we'll find hope at the bottom.

"Mabel must've helped him get these," Stan said. "It's the only way. And these cards have glitter and unicorns all over them." He scratched off his first card, and said, "Hey, three bunny faces—how 'bout that? I made thirty bucks already."

"At least it's not a total waste," Ford muttered, skimming the pages before him.

It was a treasure trove.

A spell to uncook food. The cipher to decrypt the Voynich manuscript. A potion to change eye color. A river stone submerged not five miles away that, when dry, hovered. A ritual involving five hours of meditation and a lot of mushrooms that opened up psychic communication with Earth's nearest alien neighbors. An illusion to make the floor look like lava. ("Good for games if you're very bored and oppressed by gravity.") The names of five hitherto-unknown demon nobles, the sigils to summon and bind them, the fields of knowledge and political influence in which they were most helpful, and a few personal tips on how to best to twist their arms into doing a favor. A complicated way to grind glasses that let one see, depending on prescription strength, anywhere from several seconds to several minutes into the future. And on and on.

And Bill didn't just toss down a few mystical-sounding words and move on: in a few terse sentences after each spell, he hinted at the principles that made them work (freely mixing magic, physics, and metaphysics), the people who'd created or discovered the trick (whether human, inhuman, unearthly, or transdimensional), where Ford could go digging to independently verify the information if he didn't want to take Bill's word for it—and what other, greater things someone might use these tricks to do, if only they fully understood how they worked, if only they had the right teacher. Bill had filled the margins, scribbled extra info in red pen in between the rows of black to double the amount of text he could cram on each line. Ford could fill an entire journal just by copying, disentangling, and expanding on everything Bill had packed into this dense five-page grimoire.

Bill had given Ford more in this letter than he had in all the years he'd been posing as Ford's friend—excluding those accursed portal blueprints. He'd shared the kinds of things Ford had always dreamed his Muse might show him. He gave it away like a free sample to entice a new customer. Five pages of deep secrets meant nothing to Bill and his infinite knowledge. He could have done this all along. He only did it now to try to bribe Ford into sparing his life: see what you could miss out on?

As Ford read the pages, his hands trembled in rage.

"—two hundred dollars, two hundred fifty dollars," Stan muttered. "Those are the biggest yet." He waved the scratch cards at Ford. "I don't understand it! That's eight winners in a row! I've made almost a thousand bucks just by scratching these off—that's not luck! How's he do it? What kinda weird alien magic gives you scratch card telepathy?"

"I don't know. I had no idea he could identify winning scratch cards," Ford said. "But I'm not surprised."

Stan shook his head in amazement, and scratched the next card.

Ford crushed the notepaper pages into a ball.

And he smoothed them back out. Bill was a monster, but this knowledge was precious.

He looked at the Hand Witch's ring like it might tell him the correct course; but no matter which way his thoughts swayed, the gem remained a steady blue.

"This card's a thousand bucks all by itself," Stan said. "I've never won a thousand in my life. There's no way..." He scratched furiously at the last card, revealing symbols patterned after an array of gems and jewelry. "Five hundred!" Scratch scratch scratch— "Times five?! That's—!" He seized up all his cards and quickly tallied his winnings. "That's a total of nearly five thousand dollars!" He let out a disbelieving laugh. "Who needs Vegas? This monster's been better to me than she ever has!"

"Stanley, that's exactly what he wants you to think," Ford snapped. "He's giving us everything we want so we'll be more reluctant to kill him. This is less than chump change to him! Don't forget that his goal—"

"I know! I'm not stupid, I know what he's doing. Lotto numbers aren't worth the safety of the universe. But sh—shoot, Stanford, he handed me five grand for free and I'm keeping it."

"Fine," Ford said. "Fine. I suppose there's no point in throwing it away on principle."

"Darn straight!"

Ford glowered down at his underhanded "gift"—this little glimpse behind the veil into the mysteries of the universe. His whole chest bubbled and burned with rage; but beneath it—twinkling like a lonely star, twinkling like hope at the bottom of Pandora's box—was something he hadn't felt since Bill betrayed him.

Awe.

It was like waking up to a letter from his Muse.

This was who Bill could be—gift-giver, wish-granter, teacher, guide, friend—and he chose not to be. Why?! When this was so easy for him—why did he have to be what he was instead?

This charitable act only made the true Bill look even worse by contrast.

Ford re-smoothed the pages, carefully folded them in half, and stored them back in their construction paper envelope. He'd leave them there until he'd independently researched every one of these spells and ensured they did what Bill said they did and that there weren't any hidden side-effects.

And then he'd see about adding this information to his current journal.

No point throwing it away on principle.

####

(Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed, I'd deeply appreciate hearing your thoughts! Thanks!)

#(me drawing Ford: *checks image reference a dozen times for tiny details*)#(me drawing Stan: *scrawls him out without consulting a reference once* Yeah that's grunkle shaped. Post it.)#grunkle stan #grunkle ford #bill cipher #human bill cipher #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #my writing #my art #bill goldilocks cipher

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remember-the-fanfics · 10 months ago

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hello could you Gen z Overlord meeting Charlie and Vaggie for the first time when they go to their territory while they were working and they were friendly and excited at the idea of Charlie's redemption, basically releasing their wings happily💕💕💕🫧

It was a busy day for (Y/n), they had only got a handful of hours of sleep after having to fight off a whole gang of idiots. The group did damage alot of property while they were here so today was all about fixing the damage and help anyone that needed help.

"Mx Overlord, um someone is looking for you." Said a newly acquainted soul, they seemed to still be waiting for (Y/n) to tear their soul apart at any given moment. The sinner would get use to (Y/n) sooner or later, so (Y/n) wasn't worried.

"Can you tell them I'm busy at the moment?" (Y/n) said holding a board up high for someone else to screw into place, using their wings to their advantage.

"I-I did! But they are very insistent on meeting with you, also one of them is the Princess of Hell." The soul explained,(Y/n) almost dropped the board they were holding, catching it quickly enough so it wouldn't fall on anyone.

"Oh! Sorry but I didn't know Hell had a monarch, just tell them I'll finish up what I'm doing and find them." Said (Y/n).

"Okay!"

"Maybe I should have asked what they look like..." said (Y/n) having no clue on who they were looking for, they would be flying if they did so walking was needed incase of running into whoever, luckily (Y/n) soon got stopped by a couple of people.

"Hey, I'm so sorry but do you know where we could find (Y/n)? They're the Overlord of this area." Asked the taller blonde with rosey cheeks and red eyes.

"Are you the ones who wanted to meet with me?"

"You're the Overlord of this territory?"

"Yeah, usually people would say-."

"But you're so young!"

"Like that." Said (Y/n), looking at the Princess of Hell. "But anyway, why did you come here?"

"Well, we noticed that you actually care for the sinners that you have under contract-."

"So we thought you wouldn't mind helping our project to get to sinners to Heaven!" Finished the Blonde. "But introductions first, I'm Charlie Morningstar and this is my girlfriend Vaggie." Said Charlie.

"Well you already know my name but anyways I'm (Y/n) and that's definitely an interesting project, you have." Said (Y/n), thinking about it. "Why don't we talk about at my office? That would probably be more professional, I think."

"Alright! I haven't actually got this far before, everyone usually laughs or tells me to leave." Said Charlie, happy that someone want to listen about it.

"Before we go, how old are you? You seem to young to be an Overlord." Said Vaggie, you looked to young to even be in Hell.

"Well I turned 18 alittle bit before I died so I'm always going look young... if only all those beauty companies knew that." Said (Y/n), snickering to themself at the last part, walking towards where their office/home is.

"18?" Said Charlie, shocked that you were sent to Hell at a young age then quickly turned to rage about it. "Why would Heaven do that to a kid?" (Y/n) looked back to see her anger and Vaggies effort of trying to calm her.

"Look, Charlie. I've made my peace being down here and now I'm making a difference in people's life for the good. It's fine." They told her. "And I'm not a kid, I was technically an adult when I died." They said lighting the mood.

"You're right." Said Charlie taking a deep breath. "Lead the way."

"Oh thank goodness, I thought when you said get a sinner in Heaven it would be more of a fight the angels situation." Said (Y/n) before their wings fluffing up in excitement. "But this is so much awesome and peaceful! Who doesn't love trying to stick it to the man in a nonviolent way?!"

"Right?!" Said Charlie. "I just want to handle the overpopulation in a not killing my people way."

"But we don't have an proof or a guest at the moment so we would understand if you said no." Said Vaggie, looking (Y/n) in their eyes, who looked way to excited with their wings.

"I love rooting for the underdogs!" said (Y/n) before calming down and thinking about it."I would need a room when I visit, I'm willing to help fix up this hotel so it would be in better condition."

"We would need you not to do any of your soul contracts at the hotel." Said Vaggie.

"Of course, it would defeat the purpose of the hotel and it would be rude for me to do." Said (Y/n). "I would need to get everything set up for me to be at the hotel often so I'll be there in a day or so."

"Is that a yes?!" Said Charlie, leaning close to (Y/n).

"It's a yes, I would love to help you with your project."

#hazbin hotel x reader #platonic hazbin hotel #platonic #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel #genz reader #vaggie #hazbin vaggie

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th3-c0rps3-r0gu3 · 8 months ago

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Parties.

Pairing: Natasha X fem reader

Fluff :)

Warnings: none I think. Nat being jealous hehe

The start is written by @azaleavolkova so full credits to them!

Nats pov:

As per the end of a tough mission, a stark party was thrown. Probably one of the biggest yet, all paid for by Stark. I don't even think he monitors or has anyone to monitor who comes in. And that's why I'm here, I was invited as a plus one, to my beloved soon-to-be spouse. Yes, I'm engaged. And yes, I love them as much as my heart can. I mean, I'm constantly thinking about them.

Anyway, here I am, in the elevator at the Avengers Tower, in a black, long flowy dress, the straps of the dress wrapped delicately around my neck. Along with the dress, I have a cute little moonstone teardrop pendant with little tree branches on the sides on my neck, completing my outfit.

A ding rang throughout the elevator, the doors opening soon after. My eyes widen almost immediately after I saw how many people were here. I quickly regained my composure, walking through the doors confidently, looking around the room and seeing widen eyes, even some dropped jaws.

"Pick up your jaws, or else a fly will get it's way into it." As soon as I said that, a little fly flew its way into one of the guests' mouths, being spit out just as quickly as it went in.

I roll my eyes and walk through the crowds. Ignoring the stares and attention. My eyes searching for my fiancee. But unfortunately they aren't here yet. I silently curse and walk down to the bar.

Its been half an hour. I'm on the sidelines of the party mainly surveying the entry. But since my fiancee hasn't shown up yet I've decided to amuse the men that have conveniently surrounded me and offered drinks or a cigarette. Eventually I take one of the men up on their offer and take a glass of champagne from the man.

The guy himself isn't too bad looking. He has dark messy hair and brown eyes of the chocolate variety and if I wasn't engaged and in a happy relationship I would've given him a shot. But I found the love of my life and have no interest in the guy.

I chat amongst the men. My eyes lingering on the entrance. Though another blond man blocks my view leaving me slightly pissed. Now how am I meant to see my glorious fiancee when they walk in!?

It's been another half hour. I'm almost sick of the men. I'm holding my third glass of champagne and yet they still haven't shown up yet. I think atleast. That is until a group of men part slightly and I see her.

There standing in a teal dress that blends into navy blue is my fiancee y/n. And she looks gorgeous. Her hair styled into a braided crown. My eyes glued. I don't even remember the fact I'm surrounded by men until one speaks up about how he'd take my woman. I am now very tempted to rip his head off. But y/n would be disappointed if I ruined this night to I refrain till later.

"hold my drink boys. I'm going in."

I smirk as I hand one of the men my glass. His mouth opening slightly. I fix my red hair and step away from the group, ignoring the shocked stares from the men who thought they had a chance. I walk over to the greatest woman in my life and I kiss the back of her hand.

"glad you could join us darling."

I mumble against her skin as I pull y/n close. I've missed her. But I do get a giggle from the love of my life.

"Tasha it seems you have a shocked fan club behind you."

Y/n smiles. I roll my eyes. I could care less for the mob I just left. Instead focusing on y/n.

"let's not discuss them."

I ask as I step away from y/n pulling in her hand. She has pearl bracelets on. They look almost as pretty as she does. Y/n smiles back.

"you seem jealous."

Y/n grins. I look less amused.

"one was being unprofessional when describing a relation he wished to have with you."

I speak low. Jealousy flashing through my eyes. I know it does because y/n laughs.

"don't worry Tasha I only have eyes for you."

The affirmative voice calms down the green monster inside me. I pull y/n into a kiss she easily reciprocates. I want to hold onto the moment forever.

A/n: This is a work that was started by @azaleavolkova and full credits to her. The rest of the fic is my own original work however. The first four paragraphs were written by @azaleavolkova.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x you #black widow #natasha x y/n #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #black widow x reader

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ghostdiva · 1 month ago

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TADC Ep 4 Trailer Dropped

I've taken many screenshots, and it's time to theorize about how I think the episode will go.

if I'm right, then there will be spoilers ahead, so read at your own volition.

now, I think that for this adventure, Caine utilized the Suggestion Box, after getting the feedback from Zooble that no one really liked his adventures.

However Caine, ever desperate to keep his guests happy and entertained, takes multiple suggestions at once, and turns them into the retail hell the circus crew is about to experience.

before that tho, I think Gangle gets some advice from Ragatha

This advice might backfire considering what happens later.

Gangle is also given a new mask by Zooble, who brings her to their room to give it to her.

Gangle Checks out the new mask, figuring out how it functions in comparison to her comedy mask. my personal guess is that it makes her more confident and assertive, which might boost her moral, but change her attitude in a possibly negative way.

also a small side note that's completely unrelated: there's not a single shot in the trailer that shows Kinger in this adventure. So it's possible he either sits this one out, or just straight up doesn't get much screen time. We got a small clip of Kinger in the circus, but that was it.

Anyway, as Gangle is trying out her new mask, her and Zooble's absence prompt Pomni, Jax, and Ragatha to go see what's up.

Jax and Ragatha will likely question Gangle about the new mask. Pomni might voice her curiosities on how it works too (it's only Pomni's 3rd day in the digital world, so there's a lot she still might not know yet).

Nonetheless, after checking in with Gangle and Zooble, they all head back to the main area, where Caine sends them to work at Spudsy's.

Orbsman is probably the "quest giver". though this time it's not really a quest, it's more like minimum wage food service hell. despite that fact, he still assigns the employee roles to everyone, making Gangle the manager.

Gangle, I think, would be sheepish about this role at first, however the assertiveness and confidence from the new mask helps push her to step up to the plate. So Gangle starts assigning different tasks to everyone. Ragatha, Jax, and Zooble seem to take on tasks like prepping and making food for the orders, like frying the burger patties, assembling the burgers, etc. and Pomni, who can't cook to save herself, ends up running one of the tills at the counter.

and Jax runs the drive-thru for a bit.

eventually, customers start to come in, most of them being wooden artist dolls. However, Caine did reuse some NPC's for this one, which is unfortunate for those who remember them.

idk how to make gif's here, but aside from the gloinks pulling up to the drive-thru, I think Pomni will end up taking Gumigoo's order. Pomni is understandably surprised to see the NPC she bonded with in the second episode, as she literally startles so hard she falls over.

Incidentally, Gumigoo probably doesn't remember Pomni at all, and Pomni might struggle to hold herself together when she realizes it.

Like, look at her. she looks like she's emotionally breaking, but forcing a smile because well, customer service. She also could just be happy to see him alive. I think she might try to sneak off to see if Gumigoo remembers her at all.

idk what else this image could be, outside of like, picking trash up from the ground or something.

Jax also seems to genuinely hate the Fast Food Adventure, in fairness, very few poeple enjoy the fast food industry.

he also takes a moment to cause some mischief

Anyway, onto the main plot. this episode is about Gangle. and with the pressure of being a manager, Gangle might start to boss people around a bit.

there are a lot of shots of characters looking like they need a break, especially Ragatha.

I think it's possible that Ragatha gets tired and worn down from milling about and completing orders. and despite Gangle trying to hype her up, Ragatha just can't summon the energy to keep going. Poor Ragatha is clearly exhausted, and needs a break to like, put her head down for a bit and relax.

Gangle continues to be somewhat bossy, her behavior worsening as time goes on. we see this as Gangle get progressively more unsettling, almost acting crazed whenever someone complains or voices a problem they're having.

Gangle probably starts off trying to hype up the others to get them to do what she needs them to do.

However, none of them really see Gangle as a source of authority, and thus don't take her seriously until she starts to lose her composure.

in this clip, she seems to say the word "now". and look at her. she's clearly struggling with the stress of wrangling everyone, and getting them to do what has to get done for things to flow properly.

However, (except for maybe Pomni) everyone on this adventure hasn't worked in the food industry, or any job for that matter, in years. they've gone on wild adventures every day instead, which is wildly different. on adventures, everyone is kinda left to their devices, to do what they want within the general confines of the adventure. Following orders, and doing monotonous, intensive tasks, both physically, and mentally, is not something they're used to doing. at all.

Thus Gangle struggles to get everyone to do what she needs to, and snaps from the stress.

I think after she snaps, the mask breaks, leaving Gangle with her tragedy mask. so she goes outside to get some fresh air, startling Pomni.

I think Pomni and Gangle chat for a bit, since that seems to be a theme. Maybe Gangle will just be expressing remorse for treating everyone poorly while wearing the mask. she might feel guilty for pushing them all as hard as she did.

and Gangle carries that guilt with her after the adventure ends too.

it seems Zooble has words to share with her tho, so it looks like she gets to have 2 heart to hearts, maybe.

#tadc #the amazing digital circus #tadc episode 4 #tadc ep 4 #ragatha tadc #jax #gangle #tadc gangle #the amazing digital circus gangle #pomni #ragatha #caine #zooble #tadc ep 4 theory

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ghostofbambifanfiction · 4 months ago

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Remember this fic? Here's a snippet from the next chapter.

"I said I'm not cool," Lily repeats, and tosses back most of what remains of her champagne. James fetched a glass for her while she was in the loo and considered himself lucky to have been granted the honour. "Which is something I think you should know, given that it's your birthday and that probably entitles you to some amount of honesty from your guests—not that you invited me, but I am here all the same, and the truth is I've been coasting by on being the mysterious stranger at your party all evening and pretending to be much cooler than I am, but I'm not mysterious and I'm not cool either, and it's better that you know that now."

"Why is it better?"

"Because my friend is on her way here to make sure there's someone else I know in attendance once Kingsley fucks off for an early night with his Olivia von Halle eyemask. For my safety, y'know?" The look she gives him is fairly pointed, though lacking the sting which must await Sirius once his lethally fruity homemade concoction scrambles his wires enough to let him drop his guard. "Given that your brother tried to present me to you like a goat he'd bought at a livestock auction."

"Or a succulent," James puts in, unsure of how helpful he's being.

"Or a desk-sized Japanese zen garden."

"Or an Easter ham."

Her eyebrows knit together. "Are Easter hams traditionally given as gifts?"

"I was promised one before as thanks for setting my friend Saffron up with a girl she fancied—in the way you'd normally set a mate up with somebody, mind. I didn't gift-wrap her first," James hastens to explain. "But she never delivered on the promise."

"Outrageous. Nobody keeps their word these days." In a flash, she drains the rest of the champagne glass and contemplates its sticky bottom. "Anyway, my friend is cool and mysterious, and next to me she'll shine in comparison, which probably makes me sound very jealous, but I'm really not at all. Just managing your expectations."

#snippet

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bigification · 10 months ago

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Just one of the Boys

I feel so free now. Being able to go hitch hiking across the country after university is such an amazing opportunity. Some of the conversation is really weird, some of it is just plain boring, but I shouldn't be complaining though considering these people are driving me around for free. I mainly just get truckers who have been driving with nothing but the radio all day. This time was weird though. A truck full of older men picked me up while I was walking on the side of the road.

"Hop in buddy!" The man in shotgun shouts at me as they pull over.

It seems odd, but it beats walking and it might lead to some interesting conversation. As interesting as middle aged men in Texas have to say at least. I hop in the back of the truck and I'm immediately squished from the man sitting next to me and the seat in front of me. All three of the men in this truck must have been around 300 pounds each, I have no idea why they thought there would be room for another person. I can manage because I'm a relatively small person, but fuck is it not comfortable.

"Name's Tom." The man driving says in a deep southern accent. "This here is Kent." He taps the man riding shotgun. "And the fellow right next to ya is Luke."

"Denis, nice to meet you guys." I say awkwardly as they all stare at me.

"So what is a boy like you doin' in the middle of nowhere." Tom asks.

"Well I just graduated, so I figured I would travel the world before I settle down."

"Once you get a wife, they'll tie ya down like a ton a bricks. Better have your fun while ya can." Luke says and punches my shoulder as the three men erupt into laughter. I just chuckle and smile along, I have the feeling this is gonna be a long trip.

"We come out here every chance we get to fish, and it gives us a break from the family. Just a weekend fishin trip with the boys." Kent says.

"Why don't you grab a beer boy, we got plenty."

"Oh I don't really drink beer, but thanks anyway."

"Why, is it cuz your scared it'll make ya look like us." Luke says as he pats his gut.

"Grab one would ya, what's the harm." Tom insists.

I give in, I don't particularly like beer but I'll drink it if they want me to that bad. I open the cooler behind my seat and see dozens of full beer cans. It kinda shocks me given how many empty can are in the truck, they must have already drank nearly a dozen in the car ride and they have that many more. No wonder they're 300 pounds.

"You gotta girlfriend, boy?" Tom asks as I crack open my beer. The question makes me pause for a moment. I'm hesitant to tell them I have a boyfriend back home, but telling them I don't have a girlfriend technically wouldn't be a lie.

"No" I nervously respond.

"Well the girls are dumb to not want ya."

I wasn't expecting such a sweet response, but that was nice.

"Ya plenty of girls are into chubby guys like you, in sure you won't have no problem getting yourself a wife."

The comment kind of surprised me considering I'm a pretty skinny guy.

"Luke! The hell's wrong with you, that's no way to speak to a guest."

I look down and I'm shocked to see a small belly poking through my shirt. What the hell!? I had basically no fat on my body like 10 minutes ago, what happened.

"Don't listen to Luke, he's just being a dick."

Their words surprisingly comforted me. I started to remember all the partying I did in university, and all the beer I drank, it's no wonder I have a little bit of a beer belly.

"Well what have you done since university?"

The question confused me a bit considering I said I had just graduated before leaving for this trip.

"I just graduated."

"Oh, I just assumed it's been a while since you look a bit too old to be just graduatin school."

The comment confused me even more, I don't look a day older than 22. I glance at the rearview mirror and see my face in the reflection. I look.. at least 30. The more I think about it the more it makes sense though, I've been a software engineer since graduating.

"Oh ya, you had me all confused, I'm a software engineer."

"Rich guy over here, that must make you a lot of money."

"It makes enough." I try not to elaborate.

Tom cuts into the conversation. "Why don't you have another beer boy, we got plenty of time."

I might as well, I guess I can stay with them as long as they let me. I grab another beer and crack it open.

"With a pretty face like yours and a job like that, you must have a beautiful wife don't ya."

I just told them I don't have a girlfriend, but I don't know why I lied about that. Now that I think about it, I have a wife and daughter.

"And a beautiful baby back home." I say proudly.

"Well that explains the belly growin on ya. A man your age doesn't get a tank like that unless he's got a kid."

"Luke, would ya stop it with the comments about his belly, your makin him uncomfortable."

I look down at my gut again and see that it's doubled in size since I last looked at it. But then again, I have been gaining a lot of weight since the baby was born, so it makes sense. I might be needing some new clothes now that I look at it, my shirt is riding up my belly.

"It's alright." I respond. "Ever since the baby, I haven't been able to control this belly."

"We know the feelin. We all met before we got married and we were all 150. I still remember Tom hit 300 by the time his first turned 1 and we never let him hear the end of it."

"Don't listen to them Denis. Kent hit 300 before his first kid was even born, those beers really took a toll."

As they're talking, I grab another beer. I feel like I'm going through these beers like they're nothing, they taste amazing.

"Just considering yourself lucky that you didn't hit 300 pounds by the time you turned 40."

"Well I certainly am gettin there." I'm shocked as I hear a southern twang in my voice when I say that.

"Ya sure are, that shirt don't fit ya like it used to."

I look down and see that my gut is spilling out onto my lap, my shirt has ridden up nearly to my chest. It looks more like a bra at this point.

"Why don't you grab one of my fishin shirts back there, it might fit ya better."

It's slightly embarrassing, but I appreciate the offer. I grab a white shirt from behind my seat and put it on. It's surprisingly tight on me considering these guys are so much bigger than me. Honestly now that I look at them, they're not even that big, at least not that much bigger than me. Id say it's about average for a man our age to be this big. Only those millennials with their damn diets stay skinny, it's not our fault real men like their beer and steak. I kinda pause in shock that the thought ran through my mind, but I slowly felt more confident in that opinion.

"So I'm sure you've got teenagers by this age, they must be a handful."

"Oh I've got two, they really push my buttons sometimes. They're why Ive got so many grey hairs already."

"Well you must be pushing 50, just be glad you ain't got more. Luke went full grey by 40."

"With the way his wife treats him, I'm surprised he even has any hair left."

I joke, making the boys erupt into laughter. It kinda felt weird makin a joke about Luke's wife when I've never met the woman, but I met her just last week at the barbeque. She really is a handful. It felt good makin the boys laugh, I really feel like I'm fittin in good with them.

"I wouldn't talk if I were you Denis, ever since you met that wife a yours, that waistline has never been the same."

"That's right, I still remember when we met you way back, you were just a skinny young man. You must have been 140 pounds soakin wet, and now look at ya, you can't even fit into your own damn clothes."

I blush with embarrassment as I look down and see that my fly is wide open. My button must've flown right off without me noticing.

"It's all those damn beers he's been drinkin"

Luke punches my shoulder and points at the pile of empty beer cans at my feet. I didn't even realize how many I went through, and I barely feel drunk. Though it is pretty normal for big guys like me to have to drink more to get drunk, I sure as hell don't mind drinking more.

"Oh get off his ass Luke, you know damn well you drink just as much as him. And by the way Denis, we don't mind if you need to take your pants off if they get too small."

It seems strange that Tom would say that, but we've known each other for so long now so who cares. It's not gay if I still have my underwear on. I struggle to pull the skin tight jeans to my ankles and relax as my legs spread.

"Alright boys, we made it."

We pull into a long driveway with a small cabin by the water. Everyone hops out and grabs their stuff before walkin to the cabin. I sheepishly get out of the truck with my pants at my knees.

"Damn, you've really packed it on since our last fishin trip." Tom says as he slaps my gut, it looks almost like he's salivating lookin at me. "You must be the biggest in the group now."

I blush at the compliment. I fully take off my jeans and walk to the cabin. I'm shocked to see how small the cabin is. It has one room with a kitchen and living room on one side and two small beds on the other.

"Where's everyone gon' sleep?"

"Those two beds right there. Luke and Kent can share that bed, you'll be with me boy."

He pushes me into the bed.

"I'm gonna have fun fattening you up like the pig you are."

I look over to the other bed and see that Luke and Kent are already makin out.

"Hey, eyes on me fat boy. Consider this your initiation as one of the boys."

Tom pins me under his weight and starts kissin me. I'm certainly not gay, but Tom is a handsome fella so I certainly won't mind. Oh and the ways he touches me, my wife could never. It's like the devil is tempting me, I'll just have to confess when I go to church next sunday. But then I'll do it all again next fishin trip with the boys.

#male tf #fat tf #male wg #reality change #age progression #masculine

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