#Tagging this with every possible human rights thing I can think of this late at night

[tastetherainbow290]

Do you believe in human rights?

Ofc

[ckret2]

Chapter 82 of you can really tell the writer got a new art program this week and went apeshit with it instead of doing anything productive: the Mystery Shack is in terrible peril from the government and only one thing can save them:

Teaching Bill Cipher how to flirt with humans!!

####

The Stans explained the plan to Dipper and Mabel as briefly as possible—that Bill had to save them all by flirting with the head fed—and that was about as far as they got before Mabel started squealing. They wished her good luck with Bill, wished him good luck with Mabel, and beat a hasty retreat, with Dipper tagging along after Ford on the pretense of helping figure out how to get the flash drive out of Gompers.

"This is perfect!" Mabel slammed the door closed—and Bill had the sneaking suspicion she'd trapped him on purpose—then grabbed both his hands to drag him further into the room. "I can see it now! He'll fall in love with you, and then he'll realize that living in a small logging town is so much more emotionally fulfilling than his high-pressure fast-paced big city government job, and he'll see what a special, magical place Gravity Falls is and he won't wanna do anything that could change it, and Washington will call him like, 'Your report is late! Have you forgotten your mission?' And he'll go 'I have a new mission now: my WIFE!' And—"

"Hold on!" Bill pulled his hands back. "I think you skipped the part where you married me off to a government agent."

"No I didn't! Because he says that and everyone gasps and then he gets down on his knee in front of you and pulls out a ring and—"

"In your dreams, star girl." He dropped onto Mabel's bed and crossed his legs. "Think a little less cheesy Christmas romcom, and more noir spy movie with a double-crossing femme fatale."

Mabel measured that up against her limited spy movie knowledge, and asked dubiously, "You're gonna drop him in a tank of sharks?"

"Hey, if you have one...!" Bill laughed. "But, no. The plan is just for me to keep him distracted long enough for the nerd squad to get the flash drive, wipe any sensitive data, and leave it somewhere that'll make the agents think the goat dumped it naturally."

Mabel considered that. She inhaled deeply. "Okay," she said. "But. What if it's one of those movies where the evil girl spy has a change of heart because of the good guy's charm and you do fall in love."

"Do you remember who we're talking about?" Bill asked. "Fine! If we fall in love, you can be the ring bearer, best maid, and officiant—but don't start stapling together a white dress just yet."

Mabel completely skipped past his main point. She whispered, "You'd let me make your wedding dress?"

"I'd turn down every fashion designer in Milan, Paris, New York, and London combined."

Her eyes widened. "I've gotta start drawing wedding dresses." She rummaged around the floor for an unused piece of paper and the nearest crayon and/or marker box.

"Draw me as a triangle," Bill said automatically. "So there, you're caught up on the plan!" He slowly slid off Mabel's bed toward the door. "So if you'd let me out so I can prepare..."

"Ohh no. Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford brought you to me to learn how to flirt, and I'm going to teach you how to flirt."

He groaned, but plopped back down on Mabel's bed. "I don't need to be taught how to flirt! I'm a pro! While your universe was still gearing up for a Big Bang, I was fending off marriage proposals from lovelorn generation ships and sentient oceans."

"You're not seducing ships and oceans." Mabel had already flopped onto the floor and drawn a triangle with an eye, and was trying to figure out how to put a dress on it. "You're seducing a man."

"Which is even easier! You people barely last a century, you're desperate! Humans fling themselves at me left and right!"

"Then you'll have no trouble passing my love quiz."

Bill automatically frowned. There was a part of him that still tensed up at the word "quiz" even if he did know more about romance than the entire human race combined. "What, like the one you put the guys through on your dating show?"

"Yes, but with all new questions! So you can't just copy all of Soos's answers to get a perfect score!"

"Psh! Like I need to copy anyone's answers," said Bill, who had never taken a quiz in his life without copying someone else's answers and had been planning to do just that. "All right, hit me."

"Question one! Uh..." She tapped a crayon to her chin as she thought. "What's the best gift to give on a first date? Jewelry, chocolate, a wedding ring, or flowers?"

"Ooh, we're starting with bribery, huh?" When in doubt, the right answer was usually C; but "jewelry" and "wedding ring" seemed kinda redundant. Well—cheating had never failed him before, why stop now? "None of the above! I've got a better answer than all of them!"

Mabel lowered her crayon to give him a skeptical look. "Oh yeah? What?"

"Sneak into their dreams the night before, find out their heart's desire, and surprise 'em with that," Bill said. "That's not even a romantic move. It'll let you win over a human in any context! Birthday parties, baby showers, job interviews, criminal trials, hostage negotiations..."

"What if you don't know their heart's desire?"

"Then you're not me."

She set down her crayon, laced her hands under her chin, and said, "Okay, then. If you were trying to win me over, what's my dream birthday gift?"

"Replacing your bedroom with a bouncy castle with inflatable furniture."

"Ha! No it's n..." She trailed off. "Wait. Ohmigosh."

"Told ya."

"I've been dreaming too small," Mabel whispered. She shoved aside her first drawing and started drawing her fantasy bedroom.

Bill picked up one of Mabel's dolls—a floppy tiger—and started talking to it like he was lecturing it. Forget this whole "taking a quiz" thing; he was much more comfortable in the roll of the teacher than the student. "And if it's a blind date and I can't stalk 'em beforehand, nobody's ever disappointed by a solid gold brick," he told the doll.  "It's both practical and pretty, and it appeals to humans' natural greed without making them feel sleazy about accepting a wad of hundreds from their date."

"What's Agent Powers's heart's desire?"

Heck. He didn't actually know. He'd ducked in on the guy's life a handful of times, but he'd never needed to pay that close attention to him. What did boring people like? "A really nice leather wallet," Bill said.

"Okay, you're off to a strong start," Mabel said. "Question two: what's the ideal location for a first date?"

"What are my options?"

"Fooey to the options! I wanna hear your thoughts."

"Then that's easy: anywhere they can't escape from until they love you," Bill said. "Even better if you can serenade 'em."

Mabel nodded in approval. "Perfect answer, full points! Every Inkwell princess movie and vampire novel on the market agrees! Question three: best first date outfit?"

"Sexy."

"Okay—yeah," Mabel said, "But specifically, what does that look like?"

"Tallest hat you can find," Bill said.

Mabel waited. Bill didn't say anything else. Mabel said, "What about the rest of the outfit?"

"Bow tie. Outfit complete."

"That's just what you wear."

"And it's always sexy!" Bill insisted.

"Maybe in Flatworld, but this is earth! If you go out dressed in nothing but a hat and a bow tie, you'll be having your date in the back of a police car!"

"Fine," Bill huffed. "Fifty pairs of gloves—and the more of them you have hands to fill, the better! A dress made out of blank checks! Two snakes! A fur coat made out of live kittens!" Bill shook the stuffed doll emphatically with each point. "Good enough?!"

Mabel squinted thoughtfully at him. "The kitten coat has potential."

"Damn me with faint praise, why don't you."

"What about more traditional romantic outfits? Like... a red velvet suit with a leopard print shirt? Or short shorts that say 'too hot' on the butt?" Mabel asked. "Or a t-shirt with your date's face on it in a heart! That shows your date 'I'm here to focus on you!'"

"What if my date's face is ugly, did you think about that?" Bill asked, mainly to cover up the fact that he was chagrined he hadn't thought of the velvet suit himself. "Forget about fashion. Next question!"

"Okay, how would you prepare yourself for the perfect date? Aside from finding a tall hat and stalking your date's dreams."

"Hygiene's the most important thing," Bill said. "Humans are very attuned to pheromones. It's one of your base instincts."

A look of relief cross Mabel's face. "Yes! Good start. So we're talking a shower, or...?"

"Oh yeah, if you're going on a date in this country, you've gotta scrub that skin raw. There is no smell Americans hate more than the natural smell of other human beings." 

Mabel nodded enthusiastically. "Right!"

"And once you've gotten rid of your real scent you've got to make sure you smell appealing. And that means making sure you smell the most! Cover up any competing suitors' scents with your own!"

Mabel made an uncertain hum. "Okaaay, sooo... what would you call an appropriate fragrance for a first date?"

He wasn't sure he liked the sound of the hum. "First date? You've got to make a strong impression, and set the mood for romance," he told the doll, so he didn't have to watch Mabel pass judgment. "So, I'm thinking... decaying salmon, deer pee, and ambergris."

Mabel was silent for an uncomfortably long time. Bill glanced at her. She immediately pulled her sweater up to hide her mouth. Voice strained with suppressed laughter, she said, "You don't think, maybe... floral scents...?"

Who did she think she was laughing at! He directed his attention back to Mabel's doll. The tiger didn't judge him. The tiger thought all his ideas were brilliant. "Is this guy looking for a garden or a girlfriend? I know ninety percent of the soaps and shampoos on the market are designed to make you smell like a fruit salad on the beach, but you humans don't know the first thing about what activates your own monkey-brained reproductive urges! Trust me: decaying salmon, deer pee, and ambergris! They reek of raw sex appeal!"

"What's ambergris?"

"It's a staple fragrance in the perfume industry! Some of the most popular scents in Hollywood have ambergris base notes!"

"Okay," Mabel said, "but what is it?"

"Okay so," Bill said, "when a sperm whale gets so constipated it kills 'em, the rest of its body rots off while the turd floats to the surface, and after it's bobbed around baking in the sun for a few decades—"

Mabel lay a hand on Bill's knee and gently said, "No." 

"Hey, I'm not the one who invented ambergris, that's your species's idea!"

"Bill, I'm sorry. But you've got the best and worst romance ideas with no in between, and you don't know the difference," Mabel said. "But I promise you're in good hands! I'm the best matchmaker in Gravity Falls! I helped hook up Soos and Melody, Robbie and Tambry, Waddles and Gompers, the Hand Witch and that hunky hiker guy..."

He threw Mabel's doll down on the bed, slumped back against the wall, crossed his arms, and sulked. Then he muttered, "But I've got the best ideas?"

"Oh yeah. You're like an untrained romance prodigy! You just need a liiittle help filtering out the diamonds from the coal."

He grunted. Then he grudgingly admitted, "Getting Waddles and Gompers together is pretty impressive. They have complete opposite political opinions."

"See? I'll have you date ready in no time!"

Bill heaved a frustrated sigh. "Fine. But I'd better at least get a killer makeover out of this."

"Definitely! I'm getting an expert on the case!" She pulled out her phone to send a text. Plus, whatever you're wearing tomorrow? I'm bedazzling the crap out of it."

"Good!"

"But first," Mabel said, "Let's talk about your technique."

####

"Lesson one of Mabel's Guide to Flirting With Humans: pick-up lines! First impressions are super important!"

"Pick-up lines are easy," Bill said. "I know a million of them!"

"That's great! Then this should be easy." Mabel pointed at the picture of Creggy G in the middle of her Sev'ral Timez poster, whom she'd designated as their attractive human for Bill's flirting practice. "Try one out." 

Bill sized up Creggy calculatingly, and said, "You know, your eyeballs are so beautiful."

"Yes!" Mabel cheered. "It's romantic! I love it!"

"—and they'd look even better in my mouth."

Mabel stared at Bill.

"What?" Bill asked. "Too forward? Should I save that for the second date?"

The flirting lesson quickly switched track from teaching Bill how to use a pick-up lines, to teaching Bill what pick-up lines not to use.

And from there, the conversation drifted to a list of subjects Bill wasn't allowed to discuss with the federal agent, which necessitated relocating to the living room so Mabel could set up an easel pad and record all the banned topics. Partway through, Stan drifted in and started throwing in his two cents.

The list of banned flirtation topics included: eyeballs; cannibalism; squid kings; dragonfly mating habits; mandibles; the time and method of living people's future deaths; the cold and lonely heat death of the universe ("Why?! It's a perfect excuse to suggest cuddling for warmth!"); fun get-to-know-you questions like "would you rather kill your mother or your father" or "which conspiracy theories would you most hate to be true"; which conspiracy theories were true; the agent's embarrassing middle school secrets that Bill shouldn't have known about but did; the agent's bald spot; cancer flavors; pending global disasters...

Bill flung his hands in the air. "So what does that leave to talk about?!"

"Anything else," Stan snapped.

"The Chuquicamata open pit copper mine."

"Anything normal."

Bill gave him a look akin to that of a vegetarian who'd just been asked to discuss his favorite cuts of beef. "Have you metme?"

"Try topics that get him in the right mindset for romance," Mabel said. "Like, 'what do you want your future wife's favorite color to be?' Or 'you look like dad material!'"

Bill nodded slowly. "So we're aggressively leading him on. I can work with that. I've never been a fan of subtlety."

"And call him charming," Stan said. "Guys love hearing they're charming. Oh, and tell him his jokes are funny."

"What if he doesn't tell jokes."

"All guys tell jokes when they're flirting! If he's not telling jokes, you're doing something wrong."

"It's true," Mabel said. "Watch any high school romance!" Bill gave them both a dubious look.

Stan glanced up as Ford and Dipper walked by the doorway with Gompers. "Tell 'im, Ford."

"What?"

"All men tell jokes when we're flirting! It's probably in our DNA or something."

Dipper thought about that, and nodded. "I tell jokes when I'm flirting."

Mabel shouted, "You try to tell jokes when you're flirting! Heyooo!"

"Hey."

Ford grimaced. "Usually when I'm flirting, I forget every joke I've ever heard and start asking as many questions as I can think of."

Bill said, "That's because you only flirt with things you want to add to your bestiary!"

"The point still stands." 

Dipper had leaned into the room to read the banned topic list. "Why are conspiracy theories off-limits? He came to Gravity Falls in the first place because he was looking for a paranormal conspiracy."

"Dipper's right," Ford said, "he'd probably be interested in the topic."

Bill flung his hands in the air. "Thank you! That's what I was saying!"

Stan shook his head, "Too close to discussing politics. What if they believe in different conspiracies!"

"Plus, watch this," Mabel said. "Hey Bill, what do you think about Flat Earth theory."

Bill groaned. "I was drunk, those statements were taken out of context, and I can't be held responsible if some idiot with a boat misinterpreted me."

Mabel looked at Ford and Dipper.

Dipper grimaced. "Got it."

Ford nodded. "Conspiracy theories are off-limits."

"This is why you're all single," Bill said.

####

Stan said, "And if you're gonna lie about your job—"

"Which you always should," Bill cut in.

"Obviously! But make sure it's not something too easy to verify. Like, you can't claim to be the governor, what if your date actually voted and knows who the governor is?"

"That's a good point! Margaret was not impressed."

"You're telling me! My suit smelled like broccoli cheese soup for weeks!"

"You shoulda suggested she get the house salad."

"Yeah, I—" Stan cut off. "Wait. How do you know about Margaret? That was twenty years ago!"

Dipper and Ford were in the kitchen, looking for every ingredient they could find that might coax Gompers to release the flash drive the old-fashioned way and listening to the discussion in the living room. Gompers nibbled at a dish towel, oblivious to the fate awaiting him.

Mabel trotted in and patted him as she passed. "Hey, you! You're giving us major trouble, you rascal!"

He bleated at her.

Mabel pushed up to the open fridge next to Dipper, and when he stepped aside to make more room for her, she stepped into his personal space again and leaned into him with her shoulder. "Why are you in the way, bro, jeez!"

"You're in the way!" He leaned against her in turn. "What are you doing in here? Aren't you supposed to be training Bill?"

"Grunkle Stan's taking the lead right now," Mabel said. "My talent is helping people find true love! But his talent is suckering someone into liking you for a day. So I think he's better suited to the task at hand."

"Oh, yeah." Dipper chuckled wryly. "His advice will get you a first date, but not a second date."

Ford muttered, "His technique hasn't changed since high school, I see."

Dipper found the bottle of prune juice he'd been looking for, pulled it out, and stepped back. Mabel yelped when her counterweight disappeared and stumbled sideways into the fridge door.

As Dipper emptied the juice into a mixing bowl, he said, "I'm not sure about this plan. Even with both you and Stan helping. I know Bill's good at tricking people, but... he's so annoying. And not in a lovable way."

"Don't undersell him!" Mabel said. She'd retrieved a pitcher of Mabel Juice and was dumping a full bottle of sprinkles into it—hardcore romance training required high stamina. "He has the potential to be a dreamboat!"

Ford muttered, "He's a manipulative, murderous monster." He was searching through all the cans they'd moved to the kitchen counter for beans.

"Those don't have to be mutually exclusive," Mabel insisted. "Serial killers get girlfriends. Sometimes after they're arrested!"

"I'mmm not seeing a dreamboat," Dipper said. "More like a shipwreck. I mean, when you were trying to come up with a list of romantic date foods, he suggested blood licked off your date's teeth."

"And he was right!" Mabel said. "Vampires, bro-bro!"

"Okay, but I don't think he was talking about teeth that were still attached to his date's skull!"

"He didn't say they weren't attached," said Mabel, with flagging conviction that suggested she hadn't considered that and was realizing Dipper was probably right.

"And five minutes ago you and Stan told him he should pretend to be a princess, and he told you he'd be great at that because he started an Internet dating service that matches up lonely widows with overseas con artists pretending to be deposed princes."

"Well," Mabel said sheepishly.

"And then he tried to talk you two into investing in a pyramid scheme to fund his dating service."

"But we didn't invest!" Mabel said.

"Only because you looked it up on your phone and discovered he'd made it up!"

"I mean, until then, it sounded romantic!" Mabel flung her hands out in a wide shrug. (Something about the gesture looked strange to Ford.) "Finding a second chance at love with a mysterious foreign criminal with a glamorous false identity? That'd be great if it was real!"

"Mabel, it's a scam," Dipper said exasperatedly.

"And do scam artists not deserve love, too?!" Mabel pounded a fist on the table emphatically. "What about Grunkle Stan! He deserves love! A rich overseas widow would be perfect for him!"

"That's not— The point is, Bill's not romantic!" Dipper said. "This plan isn't going to work!"

Ford set half a dozen bean cans next to Dipper's mixing bowl. "He doesn't need to be romantic," he said. "He only needs to be charismatic. And for all his flaws, he's certainly that." Planets will orbit stars and black holes just the same—and not even realize the difference. "He doesn't have to actually win Agent Powers's heart. He only has to keep his attention for a few hours. By the time Bill stops dazzling Powers long enough for him to see the red flags, we'll have the flash drive." He nodded toward Gompers. "If we get it before the agents return with a warrant, we might not even need Bill to distract him."

Dipper sighed. "Then let's hope Gompers likes prunes."

"Come on! Show a little faith!" Mabel said.

Ford muttered, "The last time I put my faith in Bill..." Dipper gestured emphatically at Ford in agreement.

"Not in Bill! In me! Mark my words, Grunkle Ford—I'll get this Cinderella ready to meet his Prince Charming if I have to summon every mouse in Gravity Falls to help sew his ballgown!"

"Please don't summon the wildlife again," Dipper groaned. "The last time you did that, huge spiders kept appearing in our room for a week."

Mabel's pocket vibrated; she pulled out her phone and gasped. She chugged down the rest of her juice in three sickly sweet gulps and bolted from the room. "Biiill! Your personal style consultant texted back!"

"My who?"

She dragged him out of the living room by the wrist. "Come on!"

Ford watched them run up the stairs, then started searching through their cereal boxes for the high fiber one. Tentatively, he asked, "Mabel doesn't actually think we're trying to get Bill and the agent together, does she?" The Prince Charming comment was concerning.

"I don't know," Dipper sighed. "A few days ago she started talking about trying to get Bill a love life? Maybe she sees this as a practice round."

"Really? Why, did he say he wants to date people?" If he wanted to get out of the shack to emotionally prey on the locals one-on-one without supervision...

"I don't think she's even told him yet. It's part of her project to... reintegrate him into society? She probably thinks the power of love can rehabilitate him." Dipper sighed. "She's setting herself up for disappointment. He's been conning people into thinking he's a good guy for billions of years, right? If being loved could fix him, he'd be an angel by now."

"Instead, he's just gotten better at pretending to be an angel," Ford said ruefully. "I'm inclined to agree with you." He found the cereal he'd been looking for and set it on the table by Dipper. "But then... we let him live, didn't we? Because we all hope we're wrong. I suppose that doesn't make us that different from Mabel."

Dipper shook his head emphatically. "Not me." He dumped one of the cans of beans into the prune juice a little harder than necessary. "I let him live for two reasons: because of Mabel, and because of that prophecy. And he doesn't have to change to fulfill some prophecy to save us—when it comes, he might just be trying to save his own stupid butt, too."

"I suppose so." Right—of course, even if he'd agreed to spare Bill, Dipper still didn't have any real hope for him beyond his usefulness.

Over the past month, Ford hadn't seen anything more sympathetic out of Bill than Dipper had. He wondered at himself for even being willing to consider Bill might change. When had Ford changed enough to consider it? Or was he just more susceptible to Bill's same old tricks?

"You don't remember the whole prophecy yet, do you?" Ford asked. "What if this is what it was about? Saving our family from the government because he's the only person the lead agent finds attractive enough to distract him?"

Dipper pulled a face. "I hope not," he said. "After everything he put us through? He owes us a fight to the death with an interdimensional eldritch god."

"Now that's a sight I'd pay to see."

####

MABEL: Heyyy Paz, can I ask for a small favor. I have a friend that needs a MAJOR MAKEOVER!! 😿 Like the FULL PRINCESS TRANSFORMATION treatment!! Can you help him?

PACIFICA: Can't, I'm suuuper busy today. I have the lunch shift AND grooming day at the ranch.

PACIFICA: Plus, why would I help some total rando? ���

MABEL: Because it's my friend with the beautiful golden hair.

PACIFICA: asldkfggh

PACIFICA: OK fine come by the ranch after work

PACIFICA: and send me a picture of his skin next to a white paper so I can grab some foundations to try out.

####

Bill took a piece of paper and a marker, wrote "Make me beautiful!" and dotted the I and the exclamation point with hearts, flopped the least sunburned part of his arm next to the paper for Mabel to take a picture, and leaned away to keep his face out of it.

As Mabel snapped a couple pictures, she said, "Okay, before we visit Pacifica, I have to warn you. She can be a liiittle bit mean when it comes to fashion. So don't get mad at her, okay? It's how she shows she cares!"

"No it's not," Bill said.

"No, it's not," Mabel conceded. "But it doesn't mean she doesn't care. That's just... how she relates to other people! By insulting their fashion, style, and body. And family. And finances."

"Don't worry, star girl. I can take it."

"But I mean, she might be really, really, super mean about your looks," Mabel said. "And you cannot curse her or threaten to turn her bones into flutes or do anything Bill-ish like that. Promise me."

"Hey, bone flutes! That sounds like a fun arts and crafts project, right?"

"Bill!"

"Re-lax, it'll be fine," Bill said. "She's just your garden-variety pageant girl with an overly-critical mom who tried to relive her glory years through her daughter! I can handle a teenage ex-beauty queen. I'm an expert on those types."

Skeptically, Mabel said, "Really?" She was slowly coming to realize that, in Bill's opinion, he was the expert on everything.

"Oh yeah. I spent years eyelid deep in the pageant scene."

"You did?" she said, surprised. "How come? Did you try to trick a beauty pageant into building your portal or something like that?"

Bill stared at Mabel.

####

Outside the flat hospital, it was a beautiful, peaceful morning. The air was clear, the unseen sun was shining brightly from some unknown dimension, and some 2D equivalent to a bird was chirping in some 2D equivalent to a tree.

And then the hospital doors crashed open with such force that passing shapes momentarily suspected that someone had set off a bomb.

"—don't give me that look, if you'd hustled your hypotenuse and had your birthday yesterday, we wouldn't be in such a rush! You're just lucky you came out so cute, or—" An exhausted, dull pinkish triangle charged out the doors with a very tiny, squishy yellow triangle in her trembling arm. She turned to shout behind her—"Hurry up! There's only two hours until the Best Baby Pageant and he is not going to miss it!"

—and was followed closely by a horrified blue triangle carrying a hat in one hand and a cane in the other. "But Scalene, the doctors still have to do those tests to check for—"

"They can test him later! If he's got some horrible birth defect, he'll still have it after he's won a trophy!" Without slowing, Scalene turned and held the baby out toward the other triangle. The squishy new shape gawked at him in mild befuddlement. "Look at this kid, Euclid! Most newborn brats look like cranky raisins, but he's less than an hour old and he's already bright-eyed and smooth-sided! He was born with the face of a pageant winner—"

Not looking where she was going, she ran into a tree. The bird flew off in a panic, Scalene lost her balance, and she nearly dropped the baby. Euclid caught him, caught her, and held her steady while she leaned dizzily against the tree. "Lene. You should be on bedrest right now. Maybe we should just, you know, take a moment to process..."

"Process what! We have our little angle. Am I supposed to sit in a hospital bed staring at the afterbirth?!"

While Euclid stared at her in shock, she snatched the child back, pushed him away, and wobbled back upright. "What kind of a lazy mother would I be if I was sleeping instead of making my child a winner! You want him to start off life on the right foot, don't you?"

Defeated, Euclid said, "All right. I'll take care of the... the paperwork. At least bring your cane."

"I don't need it. I'm fine."

"Fine?! You just..." He gestured at her, gestured at the brand-spanking-new baby, gestured at her again, then flung his hands up in defeat. "If you drop our baby, I'm divorcing you."

She sighed huffily. "You're so dramatic." But she snatched the cane out of his hand anyway and stormed away, declaring loudly enough that shapes on the other side of the street turned to stare: "If the mayor doesn't declare my Billy the greatest baby in the whole godforsaken world, I'm grabbing the biggest trophy in the room and bashing his eye in!"

####

Bill shrugged at Mabel. "Sure," he said. "Something like that."

####

Gompers stared down at the bowl set on the floor in front of him.

It contained black beans, broccoli, coffee grounds, fiber-enriched whole-grain cereal, oatmeal, and an avocado and half a sweet potato mashed together into an orange-green mush, all stewing in a prune juice soup.

Gompers looked up.

Dipper and Ford were crouched across from him, watching expectantly. 

Gompers bleated balefully at them.

"Go on!" Ford nudged the bowl closer. "It's good for you."

Gompers knew a lie when he heard one. He turned his nose up at the mix.

"I don't get it," Dipper said. "He eats everything. What's wrong with this stuff?"

"I haven't a clue."

"Maybe it's the broccoli?" 

Ford gave him a quizzical look. "Why broccoli?"

Dipper shrugged. "I don't like broccoli, I don't know why he would."

"Hmm." Mystified, Ford propped his chin in his hand and stared into Gompers's eyes. Gompers stared back. Gompers stared into his soul. Gompers didn't blink.

Ford was dragged from this session of nonconsensual soul-searching by the sound of footsteps and Mabel's voice drifting down the stairs: "Listen, you know I love your sense of fashion! All I'm saying is everyone loves kittens, but snakes? That's a pretty niche fashion market! You're not gonna get a lot of takers."

"No, hey, hear me out," Bill said. "I listened to your professional matchmaker advice, now you've got to listen to my professional heartbreaker advice. You'll thank me for this one day! This is my number one romance tip: if you wanna impress a date, strap cobras to your arms and call yourself 'Johnny Cobra-Arms.' It works every time. Guaranteed."

(Dipper snorted.)

"Whaaat? No way," Mabel said. "Seriously, what?"

"It's true! I workshopped this! I've experimented across parallel timelines! It works."

"Quit messing with me, Bill."

"You think I would ever mislead you? No. Picture this." As the pair turned the corner on the stairs, Bill was spreading his hands in front of himself as though gesturing to the scene he wanted Mabel to imagine. "You see a guy, maybe a year older than you, kinda cute but nothing to write home about, maybe a 6/10. Got him in your mind's eye?"

A look of intense concentration crossed Mabel's face as she engaged her Imagination. "Yeah?"

"Okay, now imagine he—" Bill reached the bottom of the stairs and looked around. "Where are my shoes." He raised his voice, "Who moved my fisshoes! I left them right— oh, there they are." He disappeared into the living room. "Imagine your 6/10 has two big snakes wrapped around his arms. And he catches your eye from across the club, comes up to you, and says..." Bill's voice dropped to a pitch that was nearly in the range of an average adult human male, "'Hey. Name's Johnny Cobra-Arms. What's yours?'"

Mabel thought about it. Her eyes slowly widened in amazement. "Oh my god, it would totally work on me."

Bill re-emerged into the entryway, fish shoes donned. "See?" 

"It made him hot! What the heck, how did that happen!"

"See?! It works every time!" He shouted toward the kitchen, "Hey, we're leaving for Alpaca's! I'm taking the car!"

"No you're not," Ford said.

Bill spread his hands in a shrug. "Worth a shot!" He grabbed his umbrella and the magic friendship bracelets from the coat rack and waited for Mabel to open the door. "See, it's the best possible first impression. It shows he's got a sense of humor, he's quirky, he's a little bit dangerous, he's got a great sense of fashion, he's a world traveler, he's good with animals..." The door swung shut behind them. 

The way Bill had shrugged stuck in Ford's mind. 

In his true form, Bill didn't have shoulders. His arms extended out of his sides like the trunks of saplings extending from the surface of flood waters, and they glided around his perimeter in a way that defied conventional physical biology. No joints. 

When he shrugged in his human body, sometimes he'd bob his shoulders up and down in a deliberate mimicry of how humans performed the gesture; and lately, as Bill got used to moving his new body, Ford had seen him sluggishly raise a shoulder when he was too exhausted to gesture more expressively. But most of the time, he shrugged like he still didn't have shoulders. He'd spread his arms, bend his elbows, usually forming a W shape but sometimes when he was particularly emphatic forming a shape like football goalposts, and if he really wanted to make his meaning clear he'd twitch his upturned palms up the way a human would twitch their shoulders.

He did it all the time. He'd done it just now. The gesture was so natural on Bill that Ford had never realized how unnaturalit was on a human—until he'd seen Mabel make the exact same gesture earlier.

She was copying Bill's body language. He wondered if she knew.

He'd have to keep an eye on that.

"Hope Agent Powers is into snakes," Dipper muttered.

Ford laughed—then wondered whether someone pulling the Johnny Cobra-Arms trick would've worked on him. If by now nothing had made him take an interest in a basic, garden-variety human being, he doubted anything could... but, admittedly, he'd at least consider hanging out with Johnny. He sounded like an intriguing character. "If that's the worst thing Bill subjects him to, he'll be getting off light."

With a twinge of guilt, Ford realized just how true that was. Ford was no stranger to having to turn down the volume on his conscience for the greater good—and there were few greater goods than protecting his family—but...

He might not know Powers, but he did know that, whether Bill succeeded in seducing him or not, the man didn't deserve what he was about to be subjected to.

####

(Now that this chapter's finally out, may there be no further delays for a good long while, ugh.

Here's your "what was changed in the wake of TBOB" update: obviously, since we got five whole pages on Bill's beliefs about romance, a lot of that got incorporated into this chapter—the first and last scenes were basically written entirely in response to TBOB.

The scene with Scalene & Euclid, obviously, got their names & descriptions from TBOB & TINAWDC (and yeah, yeah, i'm eventually gonna go back to earlier chapters and edit out Bill's mom being a line so it matches up with canon), and it's obvious what the "best baby pageant" is a reference to (so you can guess whether Bill won)—but Bill being a pageant kid due to his mom was already part of the plans long before TBOB, so I just stuck a couple canon details into the story I was already writing. We were already gonna get into Bill's childhood this chapter & next (as you'll see next week).

Beyond that, most of the chapter was already in its present form before TBOB—up to & including Bill having a list of topics he thinks are acceptable for dates that no rational human would agree with—and all TBOB added was a couple tiny details (like... "mandibles".)

The fact that the list of things that were influenced by TBOB is so much longer than usual is part of the reason this chapter's two whole weeks late lmao.

Anyway, hope y'all enjoyed, happy new year, and I'm looking forward to (finally) hearing your thoughts on the first fresh chapter of 2025!

[pretzel-box]

Idea for a reverse au fic?

Reader gets flashed by a passing Expendable. How would Sebastian (and reader) take it?

REVERSE AU MASTERLIST HERE

PART 6: RIGHT IN SIGHT

Tags: Light jokes, some action, reader and seb encountering a possible enemy

Words: 1,6k

The sterile, metallic halls of the Hadal Blackside stretched out before you and Sebastian as the two of you moved quietly, scavenging for any useful supplies. Despite the ominous setting, the atmosphere between the two of you was light and carefree as always. You tossed jokes back and forth between each other, your banter echoing softly in the cold, dimly lit corridor. It was rare to get moments like this, where the tension of your reality seemed to melt away and you could focus on the cute human right by your side.

“Look, if we don’t find any decent scrap soon, I’m just gonna start decorating our hideout with broken tech. Really give it that ‘desperate survivor’ vibe,” Sebastian quipped, a grin on his face as he glanced over at you. He liked to impress you with his crappy jokes, taking in the way your expression shifts every single time into one of laugher and joy.

You chuckled, your claws lightly tapping against the floor as you sifted through some debris. “Well, at least if we don’t find anything, we can hang up your terrible sense of humor for decoration.”

He shot you a mock-offended look, not expecting such a good comeback. “Wow. Harsh. And here I thought I was your favorite human.”

You smirked, glancing over at him, your sharp, artificial eyes glowing faintly in the low light. “Well, you are my only human, Seb. That makes you both the best and the worst.”

Sebastian laughed, his voice warm, and for a moment, the cold, underwater world around you felt a little less hostile. It was moments like this that reminded you why you stuck together, why despite all the dangers, you and Sebastian had found a strange, unbreakable bond in this twisted place. Human and experiment—survivors, somehow managing to hold onto something normal in the midst of the chaos.

As you continued searching, something caught your attention—a small device partially buried beneath a pile of broken tech. You crouched down, pulling it free and inspecting it. “Hey, think this could be useful?” you asked, holding it up for Sebastian to see.

He moved closer, studying it for a moment. “Maybe. Could be some old keycard or part of another similar thing. We can figure it out back at the shop.” He grinned again, leaning in just a little too close. “Or, you know, it could just be more junk for your decorating project.” His words hitting your ears, giving you a small shiver down your back, one of the good kind.

Before you could retort, a sudden flash of light exploded in the hallway, blinding you instantly. The sharp, searing brightness hit your sensors like a sledgehammer, causing you to stagger back with a sharp cry. You instinctively raised your arms to shield your face, but it was too late—the damage was done.

“Shit!” Sebastian cursed, his voice suddenly serious, filled with panic. He grabbed your arm, trying to steady you. “Hold on, I’ve got you—”

The flash beacon. You knew the feeling all too well. It was a device designed to disable experiments like you, to overload your optical systems and incapacitate you. Your vision flickered wildly, and the surge of light made your entire body feel disoriented, unstable. Whoever it was—they knew exactly how to neutralize you.

“Seb…” you rasped, struggling to regain control of your vision, but it was hard to focus, hard to even stand with your lack of balance. Your body felt like it was shutting down, forced into a state of emergency reboot.

Sebastian tightened his grip on your arm, his eyes darting around the hallway as he scanned for whoever had used the beacon. “Stay with me, okay? Don’t worry. We’re getting out of here,” he said, his voice full of determination. He quickly crouched, grabbing a piece of scrap metal as a makeshift weapon.

Footsteps echoed down the hall, and you both knew that whoever was behind the attack was getting closer. You could feel the weight of the situation pressing down, but you couldn’t help but curse internally—this was supposed to be a routine scavenging trip. A fun, light-hearted break from the usual dangers.

But now, everything had turned dangerous.

“Can you move?” Sebastian asked urgently, his arm slipping around your waist to help you stand.

You groaned, trying to focus through the buzzing in your head. “Yeah... I think so. Just... need a second.”

“We don’t have a second,” he muttered, glancing down the corridor again, his expression grim.

With Sebastian’s support, you managed to take a shaky step, but your body still felt off, uncooperative. It was taking longer than usual to recover, and the frustration gnawed at you. You were supposed to protect him, not the other way around.

“I’m fine,” you insisted, though your voice was shaky, the lie obvious. “Let’s just... get out of here.”

But before either of you could move, another blinding light filled the hallway. You felt Sebastian’s body tense beside you, and through your still-fragmented vision, you could see the silhouette of a figure approaching—whoever they were, they were armed, and they weren’t here to help.

“Stay behind me,” Sebastian whispered, his voice low and tense.

Even in your weakened state, you couldn’t stand the idea of Sebastian putting himself in harm’s way for you. You were the experiment, the one designed to handle danger, not him. But as the figure drew closer, you realized that this time, it wasn’t going to be so easy.

“Seb...” you started, but before you could say anything more, a sound filled the hallway and three red dots pointed at you—a turret, aimed directly at the two of you.

The moment the turret whirred to life, its mechanical sound sent a jolt of adrenaline through your systems. The barrel locked onto you and Sebastian, a low hum signaling that it was ready to fire.

"Seb, get behind me!" you shouted, your voice cutting through the chaos.

Sebastian didn’t hesitate, ducking behind a pile of debris as you moved toward the turret. You felt your senses returning bit by bit, the effects of the flash beacon still present but waning. The danger of the turret, however, forced your mind into sharp focus.

The mysterious figure, cloaked in shadows, smirked before glancing up at the vent near the floor. They were quick, nimble, and clearly had the upper hand in this situation. You knew they were planning to escape, but you couldn’t focus on them right now—not with the turret locked onto you both.

The turret's motor clicked, and you heard it ready to fire. You dove behind a nearby crate as it began unleashing a barrage of bullets, pinging off the walls and scattering bits of metal everywhere.

“Damn it,” you muttered under your breath. You peeked out from behind the crate, your eyes locking onto the base of the turret. You could see it—a control panel just beneath the rotating barrel. If you could just reach it, you might be able to disable the turret before it turned Sebastian or you into scrap metal.

“I’ll cover you!” Sebastian shouted, grabbing a nearby chunk of debris and tossing it toward the turret. It clanged off the barrel, momentarily redirecting its attention.

Now’s your chance.

You launched yourself out from behind the crate, hurrying toward the turret as it recalibrated its aim. The whir of the barrel grew louder, and you could feel the heat of the bullets whizzing past you, narrowly missing as you zigzagged toward the base. Your claws dug into the ground as you slid to the control panel, your fingers immediately working to pry it open.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the figure climbing into the vent, the grating pulled aside. They paused for a split second, glancing back at you and Sebastian, a look of triumph in their eyes. Then, with one swift movement, they disappeared into the vent, the cover sliding back into place.

“No time to worry about them now,” you growled, focusing on the control panel in front of you. The wires were a mess of colors, tangled and confusing, but you didn’t have the luxury of being careful. The turret’s barrel shifted again, locking back onto you, and you knew you had seconds before it would fire.

With a sharp inhale, you jammed your claw into the circuitry, pulling a handful of wires free. Sparks flew, and for a moment, the turret seemed to stall. Its motor whirred in confusion, the barrel twitching as if trying to re-engage its targeting system. You ripped another cluster of wires loose, praying you hit the right ones.

Suddenly, the turret powered down with a groan, the barrel slumping to the side as its lights blinked out. The hallway fell into a heavy silence, the echo of the gunfire still lingering in your ears.

You exhaled in relief, leaning back against the wall as your systems tried to calm down from the sudden burst of activity.

Sebastian emerged from behind the debris, wide-eyed and impressed. “Holy crap, you did it.”

“Yeah,” you breathed, wiping the back of your hand across your forehead. “But they got away.”

Sebastian glanced up at the vent, frowning. “Figures. Whoever they were, they knew this place too well. But I’m not worried about them right now.”

He crouched down next to you, his expression softening. “You alright? That was a close one.”

You managed a tired grin. “Takes more than a turret to take me down. But I must admit, I was almost as pierced as a slice of cheese.”

He chuckled, giving you a pat on the shoulder. “Good to know. Let’s just hope there aren’t more surprises like that waiting for us. Also…a cute slice of cheese.”

The compliment made you break into a smile despite the thoughts in your head.

As you both stood and began to gather yourselves, you couldn’t shake the lingering thought of the figure who had escaped. They were fast, resourceful, and clearly knew how to navigate the facility. But right now, your priority was survival.

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 4

Jason Todd x Chubby! Reader (fem)

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, bit of trauma processing, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings: family discord and dealing with trauma, drugs briefly mentioned, human trafficking briefly mentioned

word count: 1.7k

Chapter Selection

I thought I was a strong, independent woman. I thought I preferred to take care of myself, that I could never be comfortable relying on others. One date with Jason had me strongly questioning those convictions. He bought the books, we had a late lunch/early dinner at the food court, wandered several stores, and talked about everything and nothing. I managed to keep him from buying every little thing I looked at, but we still ended up with several bags - all of which he insisted on carrying. Even with the bags in his hands, he managed to get his pinky wrapped around mine every time my hand was down. It was clingy, and awkward to walk, and it made me giddy. Is this feeling what everyone’s so obsessed with? … I think I get it now.

Jason drove me home that night, insisting that it was getting too dark and he didn't like the idea of me on public transit alone at night. Normally I would fight him on that, but the idea of walking home from the bus stop was doing unpleasant things to my stomach. He parked, and we took several minutes to rearrange the items in our bags.

“... I guess that’s everything.” He seemed a bit disappointed.

I nodded. “Yeah, I think you're right. … Thank you, Jay, this was a lot of fun.”

He smiled softly, nodding. “I had fun too. … Can I … see you again?”

“It's a distinct possibility.” I smirked a bit. “After all, I have yet to pass judgment on your trashy romance novel selection.”

He laughed softly, groaning and rubbing his face. “I already regret suggesting that. Give it back, you can't have it.”

I held my bags away from him, giggling a bit as he pretended to try to steal them. Suddenly there was movement in the corner of my vision, and I saw a silhouette on the roof across the street. “Oh god…”

“What? What's wrong??” Jason pulled back a bit.

“There’s someone on that roof. Which one is that, can you tell?” I peered up, but with the moon behind them I couldn't see any details.

Jason turned to look too, suddenly a bit stoney. “... Looks like Red Robin and Nightwing.”

“... Two of them? Are you sure? I only see one.” He just nodded. “... Fuuuhhhck, what's happening in my stupid neighborhood?”

“Probably nothing. This isn't their patrol territory…. Or … at least, that's what I've heard.”

I raised an eyebrow, staring at him. “You've heard? … What, do they take their cars to you?”

“... Something like that. … Anyway, it's well known, this is Red Hood's part of town.”

“... You don't think they're here for him, do you? I thought they were allied now?”

Jason shook his head a bit. “Probably just trying to spy on him … nosy bitches…”

I giggled a bit at that, but couldn't help the sneaking concern in the back of my mind. If they really were here to spy on Red Hood, that would suggest he was nearby … Did he decide he wanted his shirt back after all, or was something bad happening in the area?

Jason turned to me, a gentle smile on his face. “Hey, don't worry about them. You just get inside where it's safe, ok?”

I nodded, smiling softly. “Ok, but text me when you get home.”

He nodded, chuckling, “will do. And … about seeing each other again, … how about lunch on Tuesday?”

I nodded, grinning. “Sounds good. Good night, Jay.”

“Night, Doll.” I blushed a bit, getting out of the car and into my building. He waited for me to close the door before driving away, and I headed up to my apartment.

I wasn't sure what I'd find upstairs. I hadn't told Red Hood my unit number, but it probably wouldn't be that hard for him to figure out. … Hell, the shirt might have a tracker on it.

I unlocked my door and checked every room. Nothing had moved. My clothes were still in a crumpled heap on my floor, the flannel still peaking out from under my ruined pants. It occurred to me that I had meant to pick up a replacement pair at the mall before heading home. I sat on my knees, trembling a bit as I picked up the shirt. A thorough examination didn't reveal any electronic pieces attached. It was just a normal red flannel.

I held the shirt against my chest, shaking a bit. Everything was fine. I was fine. Red Hood was one of the good guys, even if he did some really terrifying shit. I wasn't a drug dealer or a human trafficker, so he had nothing against me. He was kind to me, even. I was safe. I was safe. I was safe.

My mind slowly drifted away from that night. Thoughts of blood and fear were replaced bit by bit with Jason; his shy little smiles and cheeky grins, the feeling of his finger wrapped around mine, even the smell of his cologne. When I breathed deep I could still smell it; a rich, woody smell, with a bit of lavender, and under that was a base note I couldn't identify. Something sharp and slightly metallic. I sighed softly, deciding not to think too hard about why I was tying the shirt around my waist, and started tidying the apartment. Couldn't put the pile off forever, but I didn't have to start there…

Jason watched her go inside, waiting to make sure no creeps followed her in before the security door locked. Once he was satisfied that she was safe, he drove off, calling Dick. Straight to voicemail. He tried Tim; also straight to voicemail. Annoying, but fine. He knew where they would be headed next.

Unfortunately for them, the drive was not nearly long enough to calm him down. He pulled in to the batcave and sat on the hood of his car to watch the entrance. Eventually the pair rode in, staring at him like he was the grim reaper.

“… Heeeyy Jason! What are you doing here? Don't you have tonight off?” Tim tried to play it cool, taking his bike to its designated parking spot.

“You should be more careful, Tim. She saw you.”

“Whaaaat? I don't know what you're-”

“She. Saw. You. On that rooftop.” Jason growled a bit, clenching his fist. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to reassure her that her neighborhood was not about to be attacked without revealing too much?”

“C'mon Jaybird, we just wanted to check in!” Dick grinned, moving to pinch his cheek. “Baby Jay-Jay's first date! You can't fault us for being excited for you!”

He smacked Dick's hand. “I can and do. Don't do anything like that ever again.”

Dick hissed dramatically, pouting. “You're so mean, Jay. We just wanted to see if it was going well!”

“Stop. Spying. On me.” He growled, giving Tim a pointed glare. The younger man raised both hands in surrender and nodded.

Dick smirked as Jason opened his car door, calling out; “okaaay, but don't forget to report in to the chat. Unless you'd rather Babs check the CCTV footage at the mall for us?”

Jason froze and growled. “… Fuck….” He slammed the door shut and drove away without another word.

BatKids Group Chat:

Jason: It went well. Now everyone STOP stalking me! You're weirding her out! 😡

8:04pm

Cass: Excuse me??

8:06pm

Damian: Grayson and Drake are the only ones interested enough to bother stalking you, maybe you should focus your ire on them and not the whole family?

8:06pm

Babs: We need details, Jay!

8:07pm

Duke: Wait, what??

8:08pm

Dick: Jaybird went on a date today, Duke! Keep up!

8:09pm

Tim: With a normal human-type girl no less!

8:10pm

Damian: How normal can she be? She accepted a date with Todd after you two harassed her.

8:11pm

Cass: 🙃 … Dick, do we need to have a talk? 

8:12pm

Damian: I handled the matter at the coffee shop. (and am still waiting to be thanked, for the record Todd - the date would not have happened if I hadn't stepped in.) … But still, the girl's taste does seem questionable.

8:13pm

Dick: There was nothing to handle! We had it under control! 🙄

8:14pm

Cass: I hate to say it, but Dami does have a point - are we /sure/ she's entirely normal? There's no chance she's an undercover villain or anything?

8:14pm

Tim: Way ahead of you - background check came back clean. She's as normal as any other Gothamite.

8:15pm

Duke: So … absolutely nuts, but probably not too dangerous? 😂

8:16pm

Babs: Don’t listen to them, Jason - she's a very lucky (normal) girl!

8:17pm

Jason: You cannot be serious. You ran a background check???

8:19pm

Steph: What Babs said. Now, make with the details! 🤩

8:20pm

Dick: Of course we did - what kind of big brother would I be if I let you go out with a girl we know nothing about???

8:21pm

Jason: 😑 … This is exactly why I don't usually respond to this thread.

8:30pm

Duke: Details, man!

8:31pm

Steph: Details! Details! Details!

8:32pm

Jason: 😤 … We picked out books for each other.

8:38pm

Dick: Awww, cute!

8:39pm

Babs: … And???

8:40pm

Jason: And … She seemed a bit surprised that I was there at all?

8:43pm

Damian: Pleasantly surprised, or upset?

8:44pm

Jason: … Just … Baffled I think.

8:45pm

Tim: … How many times did you have to reschedule?

8:46pm

Jason: … A few. But I always told her with enough time so that I wouldn't be standing her up! 

8:47pm

Babs: Curious…

8:48pm

Dick: Alright everybody, recon time!

8:48pm

Jason: NO! It is NOT recon time!

8:49pm

Damian: What do we know about this girl?

8:50pm

Babs: On it!

8:50pm

Jason: No, no, NO! Stop!!!

8:51pm

Tim: Too late!

8:52pm

Jason: Uuggghh! I'm muting all of you!

8:53pm

Tim: … NOT IT TO TELL B!

8:55pm

Damian: Not it

8:56pm

Babs: Not it!

8:56pm

Cass: NOT IT!

8:57pm

Steph: Not it!!!

8:58pm

Duke: Not it!

8:58pm

Dick: …. Fuck.

9:03pm

Next ->

Divider by: @saradika 

Taglist (open):

@jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60 @iwannabealocalcryptid

[anakinstwinklebunny]

Hey I love your works and I was wondering if you could write a fluffy head cannon about dad Sam monroe with it being Sam's first Christmas as a dad for bunnycember. If this is possible then thank you and if not then I don't really mind. Thank you.

Author's note: anything for you nonnie

SAM MONROE who made a rocking horse for his little boy;

“Sammie,” you murmured, drawing your knees up to your chest as you inched closer to your boyfriend, watching him wrestle with the instruction manual. “We can just buy one, you know. You don’t have to do this yourself.”

Sam glanced at you, irritation flashing in his blue eyes as he flipped the booklet around like it would suddenly make sense. “No way. I’m not gonna be that kind of dad. This thing says it’s easy to put together, and I’ll be damned if I can’t handle it. Although…” He squinted at the pages again, his jaw tightening. “I’m convinced the idiot who wrote this wasn’t speaking human.”

You bit back a smile, watching as his frustration turned into sheer stubborn determination. “But,” you started hesitantly, trying to find the right words, “are you sure he even wanted this? I mean, he’s barely speaking yet…”

Sam turned to you, dropping the manual to the floor with a dramatic sigh. “Y/n,” he said, dead serious, though his lips twitched into a small, cocky smirk. “I saw it in his eyes, okay? He practically begged me for this damn rocking horse.” His voice softened, pride lacing every word as he added, “And what my little man wants, he gets. End of story.”

SAM MONROE who insists he’s 'not into Christmas', but the way he gently wraps the lights around the tree while explaining to his son why the star goes on top says otherwise.

SAM MONROE who you find in the nursery. He’s got the baby cradled in one arm, a book of Christmas stories in the other. His voice is low and soft as he reads “The Night Before Christmas,” pausing every so often to kiss your baby’s head and whisper, “I’m going to make every Christmas better for you, little guy.” but lets be honest, I think Sam would pass some parts from the book(s) cause for him it'd be too cringy and he'd just add something that isn't in the book but he came up with

SAM MONROE who gets stressed about finding the perfect gift for your son, even though he’s too young to remember it. He drags you to a dozen toy stores, debating the merits of a stuffed animal versus a set of wooden blocks. “It has to be something meaningful,” he mutters. In the end, he settles on a plush bunny

SAM MONROE who complained that it’s “embarrassing,” after you picked out an adorable reindeer onesie for your son yet you catch sam taking about a million photos of the baby wearing it. He even changes his phone wallpaper to one of those pictures, though he’ll deny it if you call him out.

SAM MONROE who woke up earlier than you’ve ever seen him, eager to see your son’s reaction to the gifts under the tree. The baby is more interested in the wrapping paper than the toys, but Sam doesn’t care. He sits on the floor in his flannel pajamas, helping your son tear the paper while grinning like a kid himself.

SAM MONROE who surprisingly insists on starting a new family tradition—baking cookies together on Christmas Day. You both end up covered in flour while the baby bangs a spoon against the counter. The cookies are misshapen and slightly burnt, but Sam calls them “perfect” and he sneaks one into his son’s tiny hand, ignoring your protests of the late hour

SAM MONROE who has his little son on his lap during decorating of cookies - he'll so gently hold the boy's puffy hand, aiming it so the frosting wouldn't go somewhere else than on the cookie. He ends up putting some icing in the his and the boy's mouth to 'make sure it tastes good'

SAM MONROE who helps his little son build his first snowman - and even takes hundred of pics from different angles but if you'd (or anyone) catch him, he didn't do them. He'd also lift his boy so he could stick a carrot to the snowman's head

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @deceptiive @rssmary @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @r0b-in

[dyli-dadi3]

Knotting

Chris thought you two were the bestest of buds, two peas in a pod... Well, he isn't technically wrong... there is a p in a pod...

Tags: smut (p in v), knotting, mating, riding, hybrid animals (both puppies), mounting, getting caught.

Ever since that shit with Wesker and Jill back in Africa, Chris hasn’t been able to relax. He tosses and turns at night, plagued with the face of Jill, of all the citizens he had to kill just because they were robbed of their humanity. The whole debacle had left him feeling incredibly lonely and filled with the overwhelming sensation that he was never fully alone. Every time he closed his eyes, even for a second, it was like he was in Africa all over again. It got to the point where his coworkers had noticed.

—

“Hey, Chris, you’ve been acting off, lately. " One late night, a guy in HR spoke up when he decided to stay and mess with the thick stack of paperwork that was growing on his desk. 

“Really?” Chris mumbled the words, more interested in the hissing of the coffee machine that was currently spewing out the liquid gold he needed. The sound was familiar to him, something that wasn’t the screams of pain and despair that he also got familiar with.

“Yeah, it’s like you’ve been distancing yourself. It’s making your paperwork late.” The little shit huffed, crossing his arms. 

Of course, he didn’t care about him, he was just there to ensure his performance was running at full speed. Not like he expected anything else, that’s why he never really talked to the guy. He just partook in the mandatory check-ins to say what is going good and bad in management, only for nothing to be changed because it isn’t “important.” He learned pretty quickly that the BSAA was good for one thing and one thing only, fighting bioterrorism. As long as there was some new monstrosity to humans running amok, their agent’s mental health could wait. 

“I hadn’t noticed,” Chris muttered, grabbing the steaming pot of instant coffee and poring it into his mug that was printed with the BSAA logo. 

“You know, I think you’re due for some company,” The guy said thoughtfully. What was his actual name again? Todd? Tom? I think it was Tom…

“How I spend my very limited free time isn’t your problem,” Chris said flatly, finally looking up at Tom. “And besides, I don’t have time to foster a new relationship.”

“Oh, I’m not talking about that,” Tim said, smiling at him like it was some kind of joke. 

I don’t have the time or patience for this.

“I’m thinking like a pet or something. Animals have been used for therapy forever. I think you need something to soften up that rough exterior of yours.” Ted chuckled, bringing his hand up to shove Chris’ shoulder. He just took a step back.

“…”

“If I can’t deal with a relationship, what makes you think that I can take care of a whole other life?” Chris huffed to save the man some embarrassment. Man, this guy was denser than that loaf of banana bread he tried to make for Jill when she joined S.T.A.R.S. with him.

“Geez, man, are you dense? I swear you live under a rock…” Timmy sighed.

Are you serious…?

“Haven’t you heard? Those new ‘hybrid’ things are all the craze right now.” If they’re being described as things, it can’t be good. “They’re humans, but animals.”

Chris raised his eyebrow at this. “First of all, how is that even possible? And second, why hasn’t the BSAA or government in general shut that down?”

“Well, the guy who was originally splicing all that DNA was arrested, but they couldn’t just kill the little fellows he made, so they put them up for sale. Not everyone could care for their new pet slash human baby, so some got loose and bred like rabbits. They’re everywhere now. Are you seriously telling me you haven’t seen one yet? News? Alley? Other friends?” Billy said.

Chris paused. “You’re telling me that there’s half animal, half-human creatures walking around the city?” The image in his mind was horrific.

“Yeah, they’re kind of cute, cute like a kid and a puppy at the same time,” Ben said with a smile. “But anyways,  brought it up ‘cause I think you’d do good with one. They’re easier to train than animals and can do all the same things we can, so you won’t feel bad for leaving them when you’re out doing that bioterrorism stuff. Brady has one.” 

“Who?” He knew a Brad once.

“...Brady? He sits right across from you.” Oh right, toupe. “Right, it’s just late,” Chris said, taking a sip of his coffee so he could at least try to properly wrap his mind around the bombshell Bill just dropped on him.

“Yeah, he says she’s the best thing to ever happen to him. But don’t tell his wife he said that.” 

Chris let out a dry chuckle, his mind moving on from the papers he had to do. Maybe he could look up these ‘hybrids’ once he got off of work.

“I’ll think about it.” He said before leaving Ben at the coffee machine.

—

It took way less effort than he expected, the papers quickly being filled out since he was getting more and more eager to find out what these hybrids looked like. If Toupe and Bennie thought they were good, as well as everyone else, they couldn’t be that ugly.

Before he knew it, Chris was sitting at his desk, the word ‘Hybrid’ typed up on his monitor. His finger governs over the enter button. Despite all the admittedly cute descriptions, he still couldn’t shake off the fear that they were just the same as all the bioengineered organisms he fought against. He’s killed his fair share of zombie dogs.

Forgetting the zombie dogs, he had always wanted a regular dog. So he amended his search, changing it to ‘Dog Hybrid’ and hit enter. 

The results were instantaneous, and he had to admit, they were pretty cute. The ones on the top of Google had round faces, chubby cheeks, bright eyes, floppy ears, and bushy tails. He then looked at maintenance. There was already an abundance of forums describing how to take care of them, what to expect depending on the type of species they derived from, and just some silly stories people wanted to share.

He was sold, and before he knew it, he had made an appointment to a shelter that houses hybrids to see if he could find one.

Of course, he always thought of having a tough-looking dog, big and fluffy. What he didn’t expect was to walk up to the front door and be greeted with two pups playfighting in the small enclosure just past the glass display. When he walked in, they both turned to look at him, yipping with pure energy.

He turned his back to them to greet the front lady who had been looking at him. “I’m here for a consultation? Last name Redfield.” 

The lady smiled, walking to the little gate on the side of her to let him in. “Just go down the hall and to the left, there’s a lady there that will help you from there.”

The lady she talked about was very sweet. She didn’t stare at him too long, or ask about his dark eyebags, or even the fact that he didn’t have unstained clothes to wear. She just asked him how much maintenance he was willing to expend for caretaking, as well as some personality inquiries. She said it was to “match him to the perfect pup,” since they only housed dogs.

With that, he was led through so many isles of dog-human things that he didn’t know what to do with himself. Despite the tempting allure of a companion to have when he came back home, it was all a spur-of-the-moment thing. He had yet to accommodate another living being in his house, and the thought of leaving a senior hybrid or puppy alone for long periods was beginning to weigh on his heart all over again.

—

“He was cute!” You said happily, flopping onto Leon’s side. “Imagine what it would be like to be adopted by him.”

It was a pastime for the two of you to look at the people who walked past and theorize about their lives, about what it would be like to be chosen by them. 

“I don’t know, he looks like he could crush my head with his bicep.” Leon grimaced, holding his head.

“Oh, but that’s the fun part!” You giggled, pressing your face to his side as your tail wags behind you. 

“I guess he looked interested.” Leon smiled, pouncing on you to nip at your neck. You squealed, trying to kick him off of you as he tried to pin you down. “Leon, that tickles!” You tried to catch your breath when he finally pulled away to sit down on the padded floor of the display case. “But that’s the fun part!” He said with a mockingly high-pitched tone as he smirked.

You huffed, jumping on top of him as you tried to repay the favor.

—

“I’m sorry, none of them called out to me,” Chris said, walking back to the front as he tried to ignore the pitiful looks of the hybrids he left behind him. Man, this was a bad idea.

“No worries, I’m glad you don’t feel the need to force yourself, we get a lot of people who fold, only to return them weeks later saying that they couldn’t deal with it.” The lady smiled, waving goodbye as Chris entered the front of the shelter again. 

He tried to ignore the way the two of you immediately stopped playing to lean up against the barrier of your enclosure. Both of your tails wagged, and he tried to push out the sound of “He didn’t get anyone! Do you think he came back for us?” coming from your sweet mouth. 

God, this was a bad idea.

“Are the ones in the front available?” He found himself asking the first lady. “Those two?” He awkwardly pointed at the two pups that were climbing over each other now that he specifically pointed them out. 

“I knew it!”

“We’re free!”

“Of course! They sure are the energetic type… Are you sure you’ll be able to handle them?” The lady said softly. He couldn’t blame her, he had answered her caregiving question with low maintenance.

“Don’t listen to her! We’re well-behaved!”

“Yeah! We’re so good!”

“I’m positive that we’ll be fine.” Chris smiled. No, I’m not, but I can’t say no to those cute faces…

“Well then, just sign these papers right right here for adoption, and then they’re all yours.” The lady smiled, reaching underneath her desk to produce two packets of papers. On the top of each of them were your names. The handwriting was messy, but the glitter pen used on yours made him realize that the two of you signed your names yourselves. The realization was heartwarming, and with the revelation, he could see the personality woven into the childish signatures. This was going to end up great.

—

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

God, he couldn’t have been more wrong. The two of you were endless bounds of energy, like two Tasmanian devils living in his flat. He had thought that the two of you were more human than dog, able to have self-control and discipline like Benjamin had said, but he quickly realized that he adopted two puppies that took a liking to chewing up all the shit in his house no matter how many times he said no. 

But he was a man, a stubborn one at that, and he was determined to give the two of you a forever home.

He’s had to put child-proofing on almost all of his furniture and cabinets so that you two didn’t get into his stuff or shred the legs of all his furniture to shit. Eventually, he had to go back to work, where he’d look the two of you in the eye and say “Be good” like a disapproving father before leaving. No matter what was happening at work, his mind was preoccupied with all the things the two of you could be getting up to. He was starting to think of getting a sitter.

When he came home, his blood ran cold. Pained whimpering. Did somebody get hurt? Was someone in danger? 

He rushed into his house, finding the source of his sudden anxiety spark. You. His jaw grew slack as he saw you straddling Leon’s thigh, the poor pup fast asleep as you rutted against him. “Hey!” He gasped, grabbing your arm and pulling you off of him. “No! That’s bad!” He admonished you, his ears aflame as he watched you whine and squirm in his grasp. He didn’t know what to do, and he would rather go back to Africa than see that again.

“N-No, feels good! I feel funny, and it helps.” You huffed, kicking your legs. 

All the ruckus woke up Leon, his eyes fluttering open as his pupils focused on your whining form. “Huh?” He said softly, sniffing the air and leaning in closer. “Dad… She smells sweet, what’s wrong?” he said thoughtfully, bringing his nose to her crotch and sniffing. 

Oh god. “First of all, I told you, I’m not your Dad. Secondly, you need to back up. She’s…sick.” He said tentatively, not wanting to even think about what she’s feeling right now. “Sick?” You said softly, looking up at him with big eyes and a tail between your legs. 

“You’ll be fine; you just need to stay in your room for a bit to cool off; it’ll feel better.” Maybe if she stays alone for a bit, she won’t go into a full-blown heat… 

—

That didn’t work. 

You were fine for a bit, cooling down and reporting that the feeling in your tummy went away, but as soon as he brought you to the same room as Leon, you’d complain all over again. He didn’t know what to do, he read about this, but he supposed that it was his fault for not asking more questions about the… condition the two of you were in. Well, he guessed that he should have asked way more questions.

But these were the cards he was dealt, and he couldn’t keep an eye on you forever, so he left work today with a very serious talk to Leon. “Don’t let her touch you, no matter how much she begs. And if you want to nap, please sleep in your room. Alone.” 

Simple, precise, and direct. Of course, he had already told you about what was happening. That it was completely normal, but that it needed to be controlled. He just hoped that you wouldn’t have to suffer for so long. He was already looking up vets to have you spayed.

—

“Dad said we can’t!” Leon sighed, trying to keep his distance as your sickeningly sweet scent saturated the air around him. He could practically see the way it colored the atmosphere. All pink and flowery and like candy. It made his head spin and cock twitch. Wait, that was new. “But it hurts, Leon! I’m all hot and achey and it’s the only thing that makes me feel better. Don’t you wanna make me feel good?” You pouted, walking closer to him again. Only this time, he didn’t take a step back.

“We’ll be quick, he won’t even know! Dad said it’s normal!” You argued your case, coming in closer and closer. 

“I suppose… You do feel sick.” Leon sighed, sitting down on the couch. You immediately crawled into his lap, whimpering as you pressed your slicked-up pussy against his thigh, the wetness permeating through the pair of soft shorts you wore. Leon groaned, the smell of your arousal making him feel dizzy but good at the same time. “Maybe this isn’t so bad…” He said as you rutted against his thigh. “D-Do you need anything?” He asked, hands hovering over your hips. “You. Oh my god, you smell so good, Leon.” You groaned, burying your nose into his neck and inhaling. 

Leon had no idea what was going on, only that you were sick and maybe he was getting sick, too. His skin felt feverish, and now there was a throbbing in his pants that was becoming increasingly hard to ignore. He was drawn to the scent, not like he needed to be pulled, you were drowning him in it. Choking him with your intoxicating scent that made his hips buck and his mouth water. He knew he should be stopping this before it got too far, but the voice in his head was screaming more, more, more! He groaned, wrapping his arms around your waist in a tight hug, pulling you in closer to rut against his erection. 

“Oh god, yes, Leon!” You sobbed, unsure whether to continue indulging in the pleasure of the now or try and soothe the ache deep inside of you. But you had to, the throbbing was borderline painful.

You slipped out of your shorts, tugging his cock out of his sweats. You didn’t know how, but it was like you knew that this was what you needed, the voice in your head yipping in glee. You paused when Leon whimpered, his hips jerking, jolting you up with him. “That feels good, too?” You asked. 

“Yeah, feels good…” He whined, gripping the fat of your hips. Never in his life has he felt this good, like putting ice on a burn, eating watermelon in the hot summer heat, or eating a sandwich after getting out of the pool. All the static in his brain cleared, and all that was left was the overwhelming urge to do something with you. He didn’t know what, but he felt like this was as close as it was going to get.

God, was he wrong. There was something better, and it was called ‘being deep inside your best friend as she bounced on your lap like a professional pogo stick rider.’

He was cussing like a sailor as you engulfed him, everything coming full circle as he realized that this was what he was meant to do for the rest of his life. Nothing else he would ever do would compare. He was sure of it. Your pussy was like a godsend and he couldn’t get enough. He tightened his grip, snapping his hips up into your sopping heat as he pulled you down, trying to get as deep as possible. It wasn’t enough, there was a missing piece. 

You were a trembling mess, clenching around him and making him whine as he tried to go faster, feeling a ball of something wind up in his chest. “O-Oh my god, Leon, I-I feel something.” You gasped as he groaned, shoving the both of you to the ground as he mounted you. He pushed you into the ground as he arched your back, snapping his hips into you at a brutal pace as his voice grew higher and whinier. “M-Me, too. Wan’it.” He whimpered, moving faster, until he nearly screamed, your pussy clamping down on him as you came. He didn't stop, couldn't stop, the need to fuck you overwhelming. But he didn't last much longer. In just moments, he was cumming ropes and ropes of thick cum into your pussy. The whole thing was overstimulating and honestly a little terrifying. All of the dizziness went away, there wasn't a trace of static, nor was there a voice begging for more. He suddenly felt complete, and that was alarming, not to mention the fact that his dick was swelling inside of you. “H-Hey, are you okay?” He said in alarm. Despite your moans, the feeling of stretching your pussy like this made him nervous.

“So good… Feel so much better…” You mumbled into the hardwood, eyes droopy and body like putty. “That's good…” Leon murmured, finally relaxing with your confirmation and tugging you with him as he flopped to the side, spooning you. He stayed still, his body automatically knowing the process. It was as if he was on autopilot. The thought made him chuckle. He was made to please you.

—

Chris dropped all his things at the front door when he saw the two of you fast asleep.

“Shit!”

I love puppy Leon so much it's not even funny. Trust that he will be back for more.

[strawberryya]

The art of seduction - part one

pairing: jeong yunho x reader

synopsis: Since she left you, it feels like your life has been turned upside down, and you're struggling to find your footing. He sees that, and he wants to help. Or maybe it's not as pure as that. Perhaps he's just looking for a new plaything — an artist to inspire, or someone to slowly destroy.

word count: 4.5k

genre/cw: angst, smut, suggestive, fantasy, thriller and/or romance, yandere themes, supernatural au, faery au, leanan sídhe!yunho, human!reader, they/them pronounces for reader, I tried my best to keep all descriptions gn as well - I welcome all feedback on this area ofc, grief and death depicted/mentioned, specific smut warnings will be listed in each part.

rating: 18+

a/n: this has been a big project for so many people this year, and I would like to thank all of the inspiring people in this collab for all the fantastic ideas that has been contributed to make all of these fics possible. it has been a journey writing this, but this fic is only the beginning of the even longer journey that yunho and our mc will be going on ;)

this is part one of my first fic for the wonderful collaboration thrill of the hunt, hosted by @cultofdionysusnet - check out the other exciting and thrilling stories on the official master list here!

the second part to this story will be found here once it's posted. if you wish to be tagged in the continuation you can dm me, send an ask, or comment on this post <3

network tagging: @svthub @cultofdionysusnet @k-labels @kvanity-main

“Oh, he’s the most wonderful man I’ve ever met, y/n! He’s perfect… I didn’t think anyone could be so perfect until he came into my life. He makes me feel like I’ll never need anything ever again… like he and I are enough forever. I need you to meet him someday soon! I wanna introduce you to him, I promise you’ll love him too!”

You never got the chance to meet him. The more you think about it, the more you regret not making more of an effort to do so. Your best friend Anna had been in love with someone, and you hadn’t even had the chance to meet the man she spoke so fondly of. 

“I haven’t been feeling very good lately, y/n… I’ve been to the doctors and they say there’s nothing wrong. They said it’s all in my head, that I should go talk to someone… y/n, do you also think I’m making myself sick?” 

She only got weaker after that. 

And he had seemingly fallen off the face of the earth after she became bedridden. 

She said he came to visit, but she wasn’t in her right mind in those final weeks. Nobody had signed in at the reception. Nobody had seen a beautiful man with dark brown hair that gleamed blood-red when the sun shone. During all that time when she was admitted into the psychological ward at the city’s second-largest hospital you and Anna’s mom were the only visitors. 

They said she was mad…

You had wondered a lot about who he might’ve been during those times when she had talked about him as if she had just spoken to him, but nobody had seen anyone in her room. Had he been a fraction of her imagination the entire time? Or had her mind created a lie based on a man who had left her before her illness took over her mind and body? 

When she passed he was the one piece of the puzzle that you couldn’t let go of. If you had tried harder to meet him, would her illness have been caught earlier? Could it have been found and treated before it took her life…?

You’ve been staying late at the studio lately, trying to get through your feelings about losing her through your art. The shadows in the room seem to close in on you at every chance they get, and you don’t fight them. Hugged by the darkness is somehow better than being left so completely alone. 

The brush strokes soothe you like nothing else is able to. Fizzling seas crash along the shore, a looming tree stands barren and alone, and her face appears in the dark clouds. 

The only things you know to be true are that: she is gone, you are in pain, and you can only paint this one single picture. The lonesome tree at the cliff, watching the storms and waves trying to pull the ground away from beneath the large oak tree. You paint it over and over again, day after day, and you haven’t even paid any mind to when other artists have come and gone through the studio. People painted right next to you, people posed on the podium in front of you, and you didn’t care about any of it. All that matters to you is that you have been left all alone. 

Your best friend has died, and you can’t even do the one thing you have been able to do your entire life ー paint. You had pursued your passion fiercely, not budging even as your parents pleaded with you to be reasonable and try “having a career worth having”, and let painting stay as a hobby. It was how you had met Anna. She was a dancer, and she had gotten into the same art college as you. Back then you had both been carefree young adults, simply trying your best to survive on your own for the first time in your lives. Now, she has left you, with the bittersweet taste of the last conversations you had had with her on your tongue. 

“He inspires me you know, I’m just a dancer anymore when he looks at me, I become the air itself.” 

You had smiled and nodded at her nonsense, she seemed to be dreaming of it. Her limbs were too weak to be of use, but she had the same smile on her lips as when she performed. You had tried your best not to be mad at her for only speaking of this man even as she lay dying in a hospital, dreaming of her passion was at least better than dreaming of him. The tears had stung your eyes as you held her hand before leaving her to her rambling. 

It has been a while since her funeral, and you have practically been living at the studio. Home doesn’t make you feel any better, so you sleep on the small pullout couch in the corner instead. It isn’t meant to be slept on and your back is sore from the many nights in a row you have spent on it. But the art studio is at least comforting you more than home. You have too many memories of Anna in your apartment. Here you can focus on your art. At least, that’s the idea. You have had no inspiration since her death. It’s strange, she hadn’t exactly been the reason you painted, but everything that happened still affected even that part of you. 

You had begun questioning if you should give it all up, move home to your parents for a few months, and go back to your waitress job until you had processed all of this. But could you give up on your passion? After years of struggling to pass courses and hustling on the side of your studies just to make it all work? What would Anna say if she knew…?

You aren’t sure how it happened, it might've been a dream. It’s barely been three weeks since Anna’s funeral and you woke up with the clearest picture of a man you had never met in your mind. 

He’s handsome, just like she had told you. He has gentle features, and dark, captivating eyes that catch hold of your mind and refuse to let go. You can’t seem to escape the image of the stranger you know in your bones is the same man Anna had known. 

Sometime after the day you had first seen him in your mind, after hours in front of your easel and a blank canvas, you finally force yourself to pick up the brush. This couldn’t be the end of pursuing the only career you had ever wanted. You need to get over it and paint something, other than that stubborn tree and the punishing sea. His features burn your eyelids, and you see him as you blink and dream of him as you sleep. You can’t escape the visions, so you make him real, tangible. You create a portrait of the man in your head. Watching the finished portrait once you put down the brush. 

You look at it until it gets dark again, staring into his eyes until you fall asleep on the couch in the corner. 

You wake up with a headache. You groan quietly since you neither have the energy nor the will to get up and take something for the throbbing pain stemming from the sides of your head. Before you could even summon the will to get up despite this, you almost jumped off the couch in surprise. There is another person in the room. You’re still in the corner of the room, so the stranger might’ve missed that you were even there, you reason. It looks like a man from behind. His short dark hair lay in a rather messy way against the back of his head. He’s turned away from you, watching the painting you had fallen asleep staring at. He’s tall, his shoulders are broad. You panic, because what did this man want, and why was he here in the middle of the night?

“Who are you?” you ask breathlessly, jumping up from the couch, trying to see if he’s someone you know in the dim light. Could he be another artist here to paint at an odd hour? You don’t recognize him, but you aren’t the best at remembering people, so you’re not sure if you should be screaming or apologizing for your hostile greeting. 

The man didn’t even flinch at the sound of your voice. He didn’t seem like a threat, but then again, something about him creeped you out. You ignore the fact that he also intrigued you, and try to catch his attention again. “Hey, I asked you a question.” In response, he simply raises a hand as if to shush you. 

This man hadn’t just broken into the studio late at night – he was also incredibly rude. The air around him is so still, so calm that it’s giving you chills. You want to see his face. If he was going to murder you, you want to have looked the fucker in the eye so you can, at least, curse his existence. You take a step forward, grabbing a long paintbrush from the drying rack. Maybe you can get his eye if you’re fast enough.

“So aggressive, little dove,” the man finally says. His voice is smooth and deep. It’s an attractive voice, at least your murderer has a nice voice, not that that makes this situation salvageable. You’re still prepared to stab him with the wooden brush in your hand. 

“Wouldn’t you be aggressive if you woke up to a stranger in your bedroom as well?” 

You had tried putting on a brave face, hoping that he wouldn’t notice how scared you were. He seemed to see through this facade easily though, chuckling at your attempt instead of turning around to face you. “Not your bedroom. I’ve been to your bedroom and this isn’t it. Also, not really a stranger, am I?” 

Your breath won’t calm down, and your heart is beating mercilessly in your chest. This man had been in your apartment? And you know him? What the hell is he talking about? “Are you some kind of stalker you fucking creep?” you wheeze out, taking a step away from him. 

You desperately wish for this to be some kind of nightmare. 

When he turns around you’re sure it is because there’s no way the man you see in front of you isn’t just a fiction of your imagination. Dark hair, streaks of red when the light from the window hits it. Perfect lips, and captivating eyes. It’s him. The man in your painting, alive right in front of you. Your grip on the brush tightens, the bristles folding backward from the pressure of your palm. The world began to spin, he wasn’t real, he couldn’t be real. You see the edges of your vision blur and his smile widens at the visible panic you were displaying. 

He was right, he isn’t a stranger. 

“I think you might’ve heard about me, little dove. She used to talk about you ー the talented artist she had met in college.”

It couldn’t be, you hear the blood rushing in your ears like thunder. “Who?” 

He smiled innocently, “Don’t you remember your friend? Anna, I think her name was.” 

No. It couldn’t be true. The brush fell from your hand as you fell to the ground. Your already sleep-deprived mind couldn’t handle the thought that maybe the man Anna had spoken about was real, and right in front of you. Knocking yourself unconscious was the only thing your body could do to stop your heart from giving out. 

Have you gone mad as well? Maybe this was your way of grieving? Should you go to the hospital?

The questions spun in your mind. He was gone when you woke up. But the long brush in your hand and the bruises on your knees and shoulder felt like substantial proof that you had not lost your mind. He had been here, you know it, but who would believe you if you told them? Who would even care?

You decide to let it go, instead, you force yourself to go back to your apartment. A change of clothes was needed and you know that the lady down the hallway will be worried after not having seen you for days yet again. She had been at Anna’s funeral, wondering how and why your roommate had passed so quickly at such a young age. You hadn’t known what to answer. You still didn’t have your own answers as to “how” or “why”. At least, none that you could share…

You had managed to shower and get into some clothes when your neighbor knocked on the door. 

“Hi, Auntie,” you greet her as she had insisted you do ever since you and Anna had first moved in. She’s older than any of your real aunts, but remarking on that had felt incredibly inappropriate, so you had both simply accepted your fate and begun calling her “Auntie”. 

"Darling!" How are you? I haven't seen you here in days! I was beginning to worry. You know, this was just how it was with Anna, I didn’t see her for days and then she would show up saying she had been busy practicing and dating and whatnot!”

You don’t respond, forcing a smile. She meant well, but when she insisted on bringing you some food you wanted to refuse her. She didn’t mind your protests, “Oh, dear child, you don’t even know how sunken your face looks. You need some of my home-cooked food to get your spirits back up!” 

In the end, your refrigerator was filled with casseroles and little boxes of different dishes, and a bitter feeling, knowing you wouldn’t be here to eat it. You left your apartment as swiftly as you had arrived, not wanting to stick around long enough to see the traces of a life lived – a life you didn’t feel belonged to you anymore. You brought what you could carry in your bag back to the studio. 

You fall asleep again, after hours of trying to create something, only creating more pain in your back from sitting on the wooden stool all afternoon instead. It’s not like you hadn’t tried your best to think about anything else besides him, you had actually tried your very best! But in the end, your mind kept wandering back to the dip of his lips, and the grin on his face as you fainted. You painted the outline of his lips, over and over again. 

You hated him. 

Would he come back?

He had mocked you with his words.

Why had you felt such a rush when he spoke?

You never wanted to see his perfect face ever again.

Why couldn’t you stop wishing to see him just one more time? 

You woke from a cool hand on your hair. Slowly and gently he patted your head until you opened your eyes. It was still dark out, and he was back. Leaning over your sleeping body, a large hand caressing the side of your head. You scream, and he smirks. He shushes you, and you push him away angrily. 

“What the fuck are you doing?!” you shout. 

“You wanted to see me again, I thought it best to wake you so your wishes could be fulfilled.” His voice coursed through you, giving you goosebumps again. “Don’t be angry with me, little dove.”

“I don’t want you here.”

“Don’t lie. It’s not polite,” he retorts as soon as the words leave your mouth. 

“I don’t care, I hate you. Leave me alone!” You bark out the words, tears stinging your eyes. You don’t know why you’re reacting so strongly to him. 

His tongue darts out to lick at his lips in annoyance. “Little dove,” he chirps menacingly, “Lie one more time and I won’t help you anymore.”

He terrifies you. He’s beautiful, but nothing about him feels true. He’s like those beautiful flowers forever trapped inside glass orbs. You wanted to protect the frozen beauty from getting the slightest scratch and smash it to pieces, all at once. 

“Help me…?”

The gentle smile on his lips came back when you revealed that he had managed to pique your interest. “Mm, I help people. Artists, especially… it’s an interest of mine, the arts.” He winked at you, which caught you off guard. 

“And you came here to help me?” 

He nodded, but you weren’t convinced. 

“Why? I didn’t ask for any help from you.”

He looked around the room, gaze wandering over the canvasses you had painted in the last couple of weeks, all depicting the shore and the dead tree. All except two. The portrait of him, and the sketches of his lips. 

“You did that?” You ask incredulously. His gaze snaps back to you sharply. 

“Of course. Didn’t it feel different? It felt like you had been inspired by something again, did it not?” His voice is honey in your ears, but the sticky feeling is making you want to flee for your life. You don’t. 

“Want me to prove it?”

You frown, “What do you mean prove it? Are you going to inspire me to paint something on the spot in the middle of the night?”

“Tell me you want it and I’ll make sure you feel inspired for the rest of your miserable human life, little dove.” 

His wording is so unnatural, you think for just a moment. You don’t trust him one bit, but perhaps this is the way to convince yourself that he is indeed just some creep that you need to get away from. You take a deep breath before answering, “I’ll agree if you tell me your name.”

The man stepped back, you had made him flinch. You don’t know why you made that exact demand. Maybe you had just really wanted to call him something other than “the one Anna spoke of” in your mind. It hurt each time you remembered her name.

“A name can be more powerful than you think, little dove,” his tone warned you of something. He seems on edge for the first time since you met him. 

You don’t budge, his reaction only makes you more sure that you need to follow your gut. “Tell me, and you can help me.”

He hesitated before seemingly giving in to some innate need that you didn’t understand yet. “Yunho. That’s one of my names… Use it with care, little dove.”

You turned his name around in your mind, tasting the sweet taste on your tongue as you said it out loud. “Yunho… Sure, help me find inspiration to paint again.”

The same excited and menacing grin he had worn the last time you spoke now grace his lips again, and you feel you have committed a horrible mistake. 

You look around the room, the sun is rising and casting long shadows from the easels placed around the podium. How has the entire night already passed you by? You have no memory of sleeping. You look at your hands, they are covered in paint. Why had you been so messy? You couldn’t remember right away. You know that you have painted. Yunho had kissed your hand, you can still remember the heat of his breath on your skin. Then you had picked up your brush. You hadn’t been frightened by the fact that you weren’t in control of your actions. After the weeks of forcing yourself to do the most basic human functions to stay alive, having something else move your hand in your stead was somehow freeing. 

When you look at the canvas your breath stops. It’s him, you have painted him again. He’s not completely like himself, however, he is just as captivating in the picture as he is in reality. You had managed to capture his beautiful features, from the way his cupid’s bow dips graciously on his lips, to the way his hair gleams blood red when light shines through it. But behind him is something new, something you have never seen belonging to a human before. Wings, almost translucent wings, appearing on the canvas as a shimmer of light blue and white, adorned with shimmering ruby gemstones. He looked magnificent. 

“Pretty,” you hear his voice whisper on your neck before you feel his soft lips press against your skin. You shiver, it feels good but you’re still in shock, watching the man who’s behind you on the canvas in front of you. 

“How is this possible?” you mumble.

“You were inspired,” he responds calmly, brushing your hair away from your face from behind. “Did you enjoy it?”

You have a feeling that the answer to that is yes, but you also know you shouldn’t reveal that. “I don’t remember.”

“I think you did… I know you did.” 

The way he seems to know everything, even the things you don’t, scares you a bit. But you might be addicted to the feeling of his touch, you’re addicted to what he can do to you, addicted to what he makes you feel deep inside. He has given you your passion back, he has helped you paint again, and you had enjoyed it this time. This shouldn’t be possible. Why does this man have so much power over you that he could help you paint as you had used to, for the first time since Anna’s passing? 

There’s no way he’s human, no human looked like he did. In the morning light, he was even more dashing, even more unreal. You want to smash his perfect exterior to pieces and see the flower inside rot as the air hits its delicate petals. 

“Go away. I don’t want this,” you choke out, pushing down the sobs that threaten to escape your throat. He kisses your neck again, but you don’t move. “I think I’ll die if I don’t end this Yunho. Please, just leave me alone.”

“It’s possible, but maybe you’ll be the one who makes it out alive.” His honey voice rang in your ears as the day began and his touch against your back disappeared. You cried yourself to sleep. You knew everything was wrong, Yunho was wrong. But there was nothing you could do about it anymore. 

Two days passed without so much as a glimpse of Yunho. The hours of the night when he didn’t come to see you had almost been enough to convince you that you had truly gone mad. But then, suddenly, there he was, as dashing as ever. Pretty eyes watching you stare at an empty easel. 

A chilling chuckle escaped him, nothing more. He stands and gazes upon your hopeless state for a while in silence. You will never get rid of him, you realize. You’re not upset about it. You can’t be upset. Nothing feels real anymore. 

Yunho circles you, a predator watching his prey. You don’t flinch under his gaze this time. When he leans his lean body against the stool next to yours you feel disgusted. You weren’t upset that he would never leave you alone, but you deserved to know why, at least. 

“What do you want from me?”

“Want?” He sounds almost offended. 

“You’re not here just because it’s fun to sit around and watch me paint all day.”

He didn’t give you an answer, he just smiled at you with that perfectly enchanting smile of his. He’s dangerous, his beauty is dangerous. He leans forward on the stool, his face now scarily close to yours. Will he kiss you…? You can feel Yunho’s breath, hot against your lips, his gaze burning as he stares into your eyes and flickers down to your mouth. Do you want him to kiss you…? 

What do you want from him?

You almost forget that he hasn’t given you an answer when he bends forward, his lips inches away from yours. This time you do flinch. Can he read your mind too? No, your eyes stare right back into his, a flash of maroon tints his irises an unnatural color before it disappears just as fast as it showed up. 

His thumb drags across the side of your cheek, a small smirk plays on Yunho’s deceptive lips. “I’ll make you a promise,” he whispers, “I promise to make sure you’re motivated to do what you love the most, for the rest of your life.”

His breath burns hot against your wet lips. You want to kiss him. “A promise…?” you exhale, mind not quite able to focus on his words, but they sound good to you right now. You swallow, eyes flickering to his perfectly shaped cupid bow, his rosy lips, and the tongue that teases behind his plump lips. “What… what would I have to do…?” 

“A clever dove, I knew you would ask the right questions.”

You didn’t truly understand though, too distracted by Yunho’s eyes mirroring your flickering gaze, teasingly watching the way your hands fiddled with the brush in your hand. 

“All you have to do in return is say that you agree, and I will fulfill all of your wishes.” His soothing hand moves around to the nape of your neck, his grip gentle but secure. 

Will he fulfill them all? 

Does it even matter? Almost anything would be good enough to accept right now, at least you can’t think of something that would be worse than walking through life as the zombie you had been since… Since Anna’s death. If you accept his proposal, will you find out what happened to her? 

“I agree.” 

Your stomach flips when plush lips are pressed against yours. It seems he had already begun living up to his word. At least he wasn’t playing a trick on you when it came to that part. His hands travel over your body, he knows exactly how to touch you the way you like it. Has he been watching you for a long time? Or is it something magical, like those shimmery wings you had imagined he had? You’re not sure, but knowing could wait until later. Right now you have a couple of needs. Needs that Yunho had promised to fulfill. His leg firmly presses open your legs, strong muscle relieving some of the intense pressure that had built up in your lower abdomen since the thought of having him in this way had sprouted in your mind. You need more. You close your eyes even tighter as you let the brush fall from your grip. Hands moving across Yunho’s perfect form without hesitation. 

The sound of the brush hitting the floor didn’t reach your ears. You were already lost to the world of humans. 

“Do you believe in fairies? I do. I think there are things we don’t know in this world. Magical things. If I could go there I would, I think it’s a beautiful place, nothing like Earth. I’d want to dance for them…”

Reblogging and commenting is highly appreciated!! Hearing what you thought is what makes writing and being here overall so much fun! Ty and ily 💕

[chaosvelvox]

bite me: vampire! reader x hwang yeji

cw: mentions of choking, blood, monsterfucking

tags: choking, blood, monsterfucking, vampire reader

yeji grew up with the idea that vampires are these hot, sparkling, beings that can control their thirst for blood. having watched vampire diaries and twilight; she got fixated with that thought and had hoped for a vampire to come sweep her off her feet and bite her. 

it’s not that the idea of vampires in the modern world are far fetched but – doing everything she could to be appetizing to vampires isn’t going to make her an automatic target. yeji has since been dreaming of becoming a vampire that she decides to walk around seoul forest in hopes of possibly bumping into one.

half of the time she speculates one of her classmates to be one but turns out they’re just pale.

during her late night walk around seoul forest, a bit tipsy having to come from a party hosted by her friend, yeonjun, she wasn’t expecting to bump into someone. looking at your figure as you hang by a tree upside down like a bat, she expected you to be a vampire but not the specific type she’s looking for.

to her, you seemed playful, hanging upside down and staring at her. maybe you weren’t a vampire and just enjoyed climbing trees in the middle of the night.

“aren’t you quite a fascinating little thing.” maybe it was yeji’s tipsiness that’s playing tricks on her as she notices the way your eyes changed from black to red. in a blink of an eye, you’re already standing in front of her.

maybe it’s the alcohol as she observes your figure, a few inches taller than her, a built figure, skin pale as a ghost, with your red eyes; she doesn’t know whether to believe it or not. smiling at her showing your perfect white teeth - you weren’t a vampire. until you show your fangs to her, that's when she slowly backs away.

this would have been a dream come true but here she is, running away from you with a smile on your face as you stop her in every turn she does. a stupid idea of running away when she knows that vampires have super speed and super strength that even when backed up into a tree with you two inches apart she still believed she could run away.

looking at you closer, as your hand slowly wraps around her neck, ready to suck the living life out of her. yeji couldn’t think straight as she focuses on the way you tighten your hold on her neck or how you’re holding her waist that she feels her stomach twisting, an ache in her core, and a moan slipping past her.

immediately covering her mouth as she looks at you embarrassed and you’re there standing processing what you heard as your hand is still around her neck and one around her waist. wanting to test things out, you pulled harshly on her hair and all you could hear was the most melodious sound in the world. slowly letting your hand run past her hair and grabbing it harshly at the back, fully exposing yeji’s neck, and fangs out – you can’t seem to focus.

“hngg - harder…” pinching the bridge of your nose as you look at her and her flushed out face as she tries to search for some sort of contact from you.

“i have yet to feast and all i’m hearing from you are these – sounds.” letting the hand around her neck go, and pulling her hair harshly as your fangs slowly pierces her neck. the first drop of human blood you had in a while and all you could hear are moans and whines from the girl you just stumbled upon to who is tipsy.

if she weren’t tipsy, she would have run away and thought of a possible way to escape you but she’s just taking everything you’re doing to her as if she’s your personal blood bag. letting her hands roam around your body, one running through your hair and grabbing onto it as you continue to drink her blood. her cunt looking for some friction, with your knee right in between her thighs – she started grinding on you. moaning in your ear and as you finally let go satisfied with the amount of blood you had drank from her. yeji looks at you with such a fucked out state with her mouth agape, a bit of blood dripping from her neck and grinding faster on your knee.

being a bit high on the blood, looking at her and not knowing her name but hearing her thoughts just telling you to fuck her right there and then – how could you resist it.

pulling her hair back as she squirms and stops from grinding, looking at you darkly in a fucked out state with the alcohol still kicking. she looks so pretty that you just want to ruin her, letting your other hand lift up her top and her body shivers from your cold hands as you pin her and place pressure onto her cunt using your knee and she loses it. wrapped around your finger as she squirms under you, letting your mouth do the work as you suck on her hardened nipple while you pinch and fondle with the other.

“p-please…” yeji underestimated how strong you’d be as you lift her up a bit so that her chest would be directly right in your face as her hands hold onto your hair slightly pulling you away as you switch between sucking and biting her nipple. she couldn’t do anything while you’re on top of her as she wraps her legs around your waist and pushes her cunt onto your face as you let go of her nipple with fangs still out and a smile on your face as you admire how swollen one of her boobs are.

“you’re one freaky human.”

“mhmm… i need you, please… please-”

yeji has been losing track of everything happening as you rip her tights that have been drenched by her own cunt as you lift her up and place her legs around your head. she’s like a drug from how she reacts to the way she moves her body, you haven’t met anyone who is like this in a while. maybe keeping her a pet wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

[pyropsychiccollector]

Arkham Knight: IF

I've been doing a lot of Ace Attorney reworking lately... I figured this gives me the perfect excuse to dive into a one-shot for Arkham Knight. One of my fav games, in spite of the criticisms against it. (人◕ω◕)

As a forewarning: this universe is set apart from comics and established game universe (despite there being some similarities in the game's lore). I'm not an avid comic reader, so it is not my intent to upset anyone. I'm merely presenting a possible universe based off information I learned through the Arkham games and any tidbits I pick up from elsewhere.

And if you're wondering why I'm skimming over Jason being saved? Or a retelling of Arkham Asylum? Well, a good buddy of mine wrote a couple fanfics on those events a long time ago. I don't feel like treading the same ground as him, and I'm skipping Arkham City because it's just the major catalyst of what I wish to really muse on. Maybe one day I'll circle back and muse on it, but for now I'll focus on Arkham Knight. (人◕ω◕)

But I'll give a brief rundown of the events that led up to this. Batman manages to save Jason from Joker after a few months. Tim Drake still joined on as Robin because Bruce needs backup out there and he was making too many careless mistakes because of his tireless, relentless search for Jason. Moreover, Barbara was shot by Joker during these few months, which is why she couldn't step up as Bruce's sidekick in Jason's absence.

When the second Boy Wonder is saved and brought back to Wayne Manor, things are... tense. Jason has to recover physically and mentally from Joker's brutal torture, and he doesn't take it very well that Tim stepped in as Robin. However, Tim steps aside gracefully to let Jason reclaim the mantle of Robin since it's so important to him. Not that Tim quits as a member of the Bat Family - he just transitions to the title of Cardinal (may become Red Robin at a later date; for now Tim's thinking of Jason's feelings). Jason... isn't completely satisfied with the pity shown to him, but he hashes things out with Bruce and establishes that he's still Robin, that he still has a home at Wayne Manor. Barbara, Tim, Alfred, Bruce, they all still care for Jason. (人◕ω◕)

Arkham Asylum progresses similarly to canon, just with Jason tagging along as Robin and wrestling through his hatred for Joker. Doesn't help that Joker knows he broke this Robin, and uses every opportunity to steal him back... But it never pans out. Joker is prevented from a Titan transformation at the end of the night - Jason snipes it out of Joker's hand before he can inject himself. Keeps the events on the island from being televized, at least. And also - Scarecrow still gets devoured by Croc to some extent. That doesn't change. Dr. Young is spared from dying... though she does have much to answer for in developing Titan... (人◕ω◕)

Arkham City as such progresses with a healthy Joker and a mentally spiraling Jason. (人◕ω◕);;; He's starting to feel that keeping these crooks alive isn't worth the pain if they're just going to bust out again and be terrible human beings. But right now it's Joker he's focused on... because he targeted Bruce (and himself) on Arkham, and the Clown's being given all this freedom in Arkham City... He's not happy.

Bruce tries to keep him out of the Arkham City fiasco, but he slips in with Tim when Cardinal brings Batman the line launcher. Jason not hooking up with Bruce does bring a wave of uneasiness, and it complicates the mission to bring down Arkham City. Bottom line? Batman and Oracle still stop Protocol 10 after it's initiated, but Jason kills Joker before Clayface kills Talia. Batman, Robin, and Talia then take Clayface down together... But after Bruce blows up the Lazarus Pit, there's the matter of Jason taking a life and having to own up to that to GCPD.

Ultimately, Jason is arrested and sent to prison, but the lawyers manage to argue it was in self-defense, which shaves off years of his sentence. Being too invested in Jason, Bruce is kept in the dark about his son's rehabilitative process; Alfred is allowed to know certain details, but for some reason Bruce is kept out of the loop. They tell him their hands are tied due to Jason being uncovered as a member of the Bat Family, but even Batman can't... get anything out of Gordon. It's clear that something is amiss, but Bruce doesn't press too hard, even as Batman confronting Gordon - Jim begs his old friend to trust him, and Bruce...grudgingly backs down. (人◕ω◕)

So already, we see some stark differences in this timeline: Joker never became terminal because of the Titan, so he didn't infect all those people (including Bruce) with his blood. This means no people to cure of Joker's blood. Which in turn means when Scarecrow makes his move against Gotham, Batman has no excuse to keep Tim away from events, as much as Bruce would like to tackle this all on his own because of his failure to keep Jason from crossing the blood red line. (人◕ω◕) Alfred, Barbara, and Tim can tell that Bruce's guilt is gnawing away at him, but they won't let him face this night alone. They're also aware of some things that Bruce will... likely react negatively to.

But when Scarecrow has so much of the criminal underworld collaborating on a scheme to kill Batman and ruin his reputation...? Well. They can't treat this night like any other. (人◕ω◕) Batman's going to war, so the Bat Family is joining him on this crusade. All of them. (人◕ω◕) And not just the Bat Family... Gordon, Cash, GCPD, and some new faces that will throw Bruce for a loop. Scarecrow is relying on Deathstroke to run a militia in the hopes of overwhelming Batman with gear, weapons, and sheer numbers. On this night more than any other, Bruce needs an army of his own. (人◕ω◕)

The first stretch of the night involves Batman tracking Scarecrow down and stopping his plans at Ace Chemical, turning the facility into a bomb to spread his toxin across the entire eastern coast of America. That goes about the same, with Deathstroke remotely piloting the helicopter to kill Batman while he's searching for hostages. And his militia move to occupy Gotham while Batman is busy with Ace Chemical.

But as he's wrapping up the mess at the factory, Bruce is cut off from Oracle abruptly and this alarms him - believing somehow Deathstroke got to her. He demands Tim go check on the situation, and focuses on shrinking the blast radius since it's too late to stop the factory from detonating. Bruce manages to apply the four canisters of the neutralizing agent, and then ride out of there in the Batmobile. Outside, he gets updates on the city's situation from Alfred, and contacted by Gordon. Feeling Barbara's life is at stake, Batman requests to meet up and confess everything.

... When he rendezvouses with Jim, Bruce is given his first major shock of the evening: The Commissioner already knows Barbara is working for him, and he further already knows who Batman is. Gordon didn't want to say anything until preparations were complete, and he assures Bruce that only the people Jim trusts with his life know Batman's identity. They've been preparing this past year, ever since the incident in Arkham City. Preparing for a threat too large for Batman to contain by himself. As it stands, they're not as ready as Jim would like to be... But the criminals of Gotham have made their move, and all they can do now is react accordingly.

It's revealed that for this past year, Jason has been training a small militia of his own under the strictest supervision by GCPD. Trained them in everything he knew about how Batman fights and passing on the techniques and, to some extent, the gear. And through his knowledge of the Bat Family, of his connections with Wayne Enterprises and Lucius Fox, GCPD has been rebuilding Arkham Island without the city's council (or anyone) being any the wiser. It's difficult to ask the people of Gotham to keep trusting in the police when they keep letting things spiral out of control; Arkham City wasn't completely on them, but the public only sees the disaster that happened there. It still falls on GCPD's shoulders to do... something, anything...!

Hence, they're trying things this way. The public appreciates Batman to some extent, so if they have a task force that can operate like him and cut down on crime in the city... It should help in tackling the gauntlet that Scarecrow has thrown down with this alliance of Gotham's underworld. Batman won't be alone out there, and they won't just be using the GCPD's holding cells until the nightmare is over, Arkham Island's reopened... for the most part (a year is hardly time to fix everything wrong on that island). They can worry about the courts and the public's reactions later. Right now? Barbara's stationed there with a few of Jason's most trusted men. He's been making great strides in his rehab, though that could also be attributed to the friendships he's made with the personnel they've brought in - former soldiers of all ranks and sizes. Soldiers that were abandoned by their countries and left with nowhere else to go. The numbers may not compete with Deathstroke's army, but it's something.

Though he's troubled with Jason leaking secrets to Gordon and GCPD, Bruce is nevertheless thankful they've tried to contain these endeavors to people they trust without question. It still complicates things with more people knowing who Batman is, but for now Bruce will trust in Gordon, Lucius, Alfred, and everyone who spun this into motion. They're really trying to help Batman... And only time will tell how Jason's "army" will pan out after tonight.

Focusing on the here and now, free of having to worry about Barbara, and only the concern of Tim and Jason acting on their own in the city, Bruce lets his allies handle Bleake Island and make that their stronghold. He turns to Miagani to tackle elements of Deathstroke's militia and confront the Penguin with Dick swinging in from Bludhaven to help share intel on North Refrigeration. Knowing better than to even try sending him away from Gotham, Bruce allows his oldest son to keep tracking trucks so that they can destroy all of Penguin's caches.

Shortly after losing track of Penguin, Batman follows up on a lead that brings him to Stagg's airships and Jason hooks up with him, bringing along a few of his men to fight off Deathstroke's militia. The two of them finally chat after a year's worth of silence. Jason reveals that he was the one to come up with the idea of forming a "Bat Army" after the snafu with Tyger operatives in Arkham City. He hated feeling so overwhelmed in Arkham City, wondered if they would really survive the ordeal. Jason knows that by all accounts he betrayed Bruce by killing Joker; but to this day he still doesn't regret putting the Clown in the dirt. Jason is doing his best to power through rehab, to understand the gravity of ending lives... It's just, the Joker was deeply personal to Jason. After suffering for months under that sadistic torture, after stewing in so much anger and hatred over what that Clown did to Barbara and what he could do to Bruce, to Alfred, to Tim, to Dick... Jason has no regrets about that kill. When Jim came to him with the idea of working together to help Batman, Jason gave in without question.

Because... even if he and Bruce don't see eye-to-eye on everything, Jason doesn't want him to die. He's still loyal to the Bat Family, and he's felt capable and useful training these guys. It's a rush to be the Commander for once, to plan and make contingencies... He's not just Bruce's "underling" anymore. Jason needs Bruce to understand they're working with him, not for him. ... And yes, Barbara helped him iron out these feelings of his. Those were her words, and he agreed 100%.

It's sobering to see his son so grown up, to see all his "sidekicks" acting independently and yet so cohesively. What they're doing is bold and reckless, but it's no different than what he's been doing for years as Batman. And perhaps it's for the best they're operating as a team - for all the weaknesses that come with more people knowing their secrets, it's made up by the fact they have a reliable network of people looking out for one another.

Bruce and Jason confront Scarecrow together... But Deathstroke extracts his boss with the Cloudburst and escape. Still, they take Stagg into custody and Jason has a few more men collect the defeated militia members left on the airships. While they work on a strategy to counter the Cloudburst (approaching Ivy for assistance), and a strategy to mount an assault on Founder's Island... Some threats are knocked out by their allies.

When Two-Face starts hitting banks, Tim personally handles that one with Barbara offering remote backup. Dick tracks another refrigeration truck and takes out another of Penguin's weapons caches. Before he proceeds to Founder's Island, Bruce is asked to help restrain Firefly, who's attacking the fire stations across the city; Jason makes sure the pyromaniac stays down after the first loss. Jason's men go about tracking the missing firefighters, and investigating Professor Pyg's murders. As for Riddler, Talia resurfaces and takes him down with her sister and her faction of the League of Shadows; they leave Nigma for GCPD to collect. This liberates Catwoman without a need for a massive scavenger hunt.

With all of this taken care of, Bruce moves onto Founder's with Jason and his men providing backup with APC's. Bruce eliminates the Cobra Tanks, and then they go about combing Founder's Island, taking out Deathstroke's militia meticulously and searching for the Cloudburst. It's a slog with so many criminals and militia working together, but it gets easier as the night progresses because of the minor threats getting chipped away at. The firefighter's are rescued by Jason's men, including the Chief; Professor Pyg is taken down by Tim; Dick tracks down the last few of Penguin's caches and brings him down personally; Azrael is confronted by Talia and Nyssa, and freed from his brainwashing; the Man-Bat is identified and administered a cure by Jason with Oracle's help; Blackfire and his cult are taken down by Tim and Dick collaborating...

It's a long night. Deathstroke still rides out in a tank and sets off the Cloudburst... Bruce works with Ivy to quell the threat after dealing with Deathstroke's tank, yet the assassin does slip away after suffering defeat. Ivy disperses the cloud left hanging over Gotham, and because of their quick reaction time to the main threat she's left close to death but ultimately saved and hospitalized. This leaves Bruce and allies to chase down Scarecrow and Deathstroke, who do everything in their remaining power to fight back. They rely on distractions that Harley, Hush, Killer Croc, Freeze, Mad Hatter, and Ra's create to take Jim hostage. The threats are all eventually incapacitated or convinced to leave Gotham... But Deathstroke mounts a final massive assault on GCPD with drones and tanks, and has a final clash with Jason, while Bruce goes after Scarecrow and Jim.

In the end, Scarecrow doesn't even come close to winning, even with holding Jim hostage. He gets a dose of his own medicine and is left a twitching, paranoid wreck as they haul him in at last. Batman's identity isn't unmasked publicly, so there's no need to enact the Knightfall Protocol. GCPD is tangled up in court proceedings with all the crooks they rounded up, but the new Arkham Island proves to be a decent enough prison to hold them all. The important part comes next - turning the prison into a proper rehab center, nipping all corruption in GCPD's ranks before it can become a problem again. Working more intimately with the Bat Family from now on... that seems doable. Especially with Jason's trained militia being the main guards for the foreseeable future. The fact that Ivy helped Gotham after all her years of hating it... Rehabilitation is possible. They just have to keep trying; hope for the best, and prepare for the worst.

It's a lot to adjust to moving forward... But Bruce isn't alone in his quest to protect Gotham. (人◕ω◕)

[melrosing]

could you expand on your ALL tags?

tbh I have probably complained about a little life TOO much but it just offends me so fuckin deeply lol. I compare it to whump fic not to criticise whump as a fic genre, because the thing about whump is that at least it's honest. people write it and read it because seeing bad things happen to the character they like makes them feel something, and they like exploring that feeling. i do not have a problem w this.

a little life, otoh, is whump fic pretending to be otherwise. and i will tell you what i think is happening here. yanagihara wanted to write whump. every time she churns out a book, it's about beautiful gay men suffering horribly, w yanagihara as the hand of god turning up the dial now and then to increase the spectacle of it all. in a little life, there is essentially no plot, no character work outside of this to complicate it. the whole book is about watching Jude, who longs for death, tortured over and over again until the characters around him begin to affirm him in this - he probably should die. yanagihara contrives to strike off every reason Jude might have to live. she wants the readers to reach the same conclusion as her characters. Jude really should just kill himself.

i think if yanagihara had left it at that, i'd think this was a morbid, poorly written book that wasted hours of my time, but so long as yanagihara doesn't intellectualise the act of pulling the legs off a spider and then asking everyone if they agree she ought to stamp on it now, then whatever. she has succeeded in making her readers feel something, and if that's where the bar is for 'great literature' in some eyes?? then enjoy i guess

but ofc, yanagihara comes out w this:

But I don’t believe in it — talk therapy, I should specify — myself. One of the things that makes me most suspicious about the field is its insistence that life is always the answer. Every other medical specialty devoted to the care of the seriously ill recognizes that at some point, the doctor’s job is to help the patient die; that there are points at which death is preferable to life (that doesn’t mean every doctor will help you get there, of course. But almost every doctor of the critically sick understands the patient’s right to refuse treatment, to choose death over life). But psychology, and psychiatry, insists that life is the meaning of life, so to speak; that if one can’t be repaired, one can at least find a way to stay alive, to keep growing older [...] I think there’s a point in which it becomes too late to help some people: that there’s a time past which the damage has calcified so completely that there’s no undoing it. X

idk I think this is just such an evil thing to say. and who the fuck is she to say it? she doesn't work in the field. she doesn't know what it's like to feel this way, or presumably she'd have followed her own advice. so idk where the fuck she gets off saying this. and frankly i think she's just working backwards from her own taste for whump, trying to argue that what she's written represents a world view, rather than like. a kink of some kind.

and when i read this quote i was not surprised at all. she does not portray suffering as someone who has ever really seen it, or can even imagine it. there's no humanity or compassion in how she writes about pain and death. it's kind of gleeful, actually. she enjoys it, and then uses the worst possible logic to insist that really, it's deeper than that.

[robotic-rin]

Be Still, My Indelible Friend

(Yes Man x Reader)

Summary: You’ve been in love with Yes Man for a long time. Like, an embarrassing amount of time. It doesn’t help that his assertiveness upgrade has made him an unbearable tease to you. All you know is, fighting for your Independent New Vegas together was hard, but redefining your ever-shifting relationship in the peace that follows might just be harder.

Word Count: 12,716

Rating: Explicit

Warnings/Tags: robot/human sex galore, praise kink, degradation kink, afab reader (no gendered terms are used), tried to limit my use of (y/n) but it is in there, subbing/bottoming for yes man’s character development, sorry for giving yes man a dick (no i am not), this is literally what happens after the wild card ending todd told me himself guys

Author’s Notes: shoutout to bill cipher for inadvertently providing me with a nickname for courier six that’s more cute and personable than just “courier” imo. anyways hope y’all enjoy fucking the robot. this was supposed to be pwp but i love yes man so much that it’s a genuine problem so there’s just a lot of feelings in here as well. also you canonically slept with benny in this one bc i think it’s hilarious and always do but it’s only mentioned briefly so you can just close your eyes to that aspect if you don’t like it. anyways y’all saw the tags, so if you’re down with all that stuff and are 18+, come on in!

So, it turns out that running an Independent New Vegas wasn’t nearly the full-time gig that you and Yes Man had been expecting when you threw General Oliver off of that dam. Sure, there were important meetings and heavy decisions to be made, but for the most part, the Strip ran itself, with the rest of New Vegas following suit. The two of you replacing Mr. House was showing to have its pros and cons, but it was at least preferable to being led by the corrupt alternatives. Only time would tell if your good intentions, instincts, and hatred of answering to any authority figures would be enough to keep New Vegas thriving, but for now, its leaders were left with plenty of extra time on their hands. One thing that you knew for certain was that Yes Man had been using his newfound time and personal freedom to upgrade himself, sometimes disappearing for days at a time on the hunt for some new part or informational chip that he would use to improve his capabilities. Mr. House’s network held more information on Securitron upgrades than you ever would’ve guessed, and Yes Man wasn’t going to let those resources go to waste. He’d already unlocked so many new and helpful abilities, but he was beginning to show the emerging quality of perfectionism as of late, so too much was never enough.

“You do know we have a Securitron army at our disposal, right?” you’d ask him teasingly on multiple occasions. “I think becoming the best version of yourself is great, but I don’t want you to burn yourself out over it.”

And in response, Yes Man would always bark out a mechanical laugh. “I really do appreciate the concern, but I think one day, you might be grateful that I’ve prepared myself for every possible situation, Sixer.” And that would be the end of that.

Things continue on in this way for awhile, and you often find yourself missing that big, silly Securitron when he’s not around. Realistically, you have plenty of companions to spend time with and keep you company at the Lucky 38 when Yes Man is out. And you do often busy yourself with hosting fun nights for all of them to attend, taking advantage of the current peaceful situation. Laughing with Veronica, drinking with Boone, getting dirty looks from Arcade when you two drink a bit too much, it’s always great fun. And while you do truly love and cherish the time you’re able to spend with your close friends, you always inexplicably find yourself longing to talk to Yes Man about your day, to feel the warmth of his processors and hear his mechanisms whirring beneath his metal exterior when you get close enough to him. Thinking about this for too long only ever seems to end in you feeling flushed and embarrassed, so you try to dismiss the thoughts whenever they manage to weasel themselves into your head. Unfortunately for you, this is starting to happen all too often.

You find yourself in this exact predicament now, as you relax in the private cocktail lounge level of your home at the Lucky 38. You’d just been on an exciting adventure with Cass earlier that day: getting into a shady deal, being double-crossed, fighting back for your lives. It was a pretty standard day as far as your life goes, but as you sit at the picturesque bar, you again find yourself yearning to share the tale with Yes Man. He’s such a good listener, always interested in how your escapades bring you so close to death, and yet always end with you finding a way out. You love hearing about his adventures through the Mojave as well, how his eyes will get extra big and his volume rises as he retells tales of how he was just rolling through the desert, minding his own business, and then suddenly had to whip out his missiles in a split second to stop the Powder Gangers that often try to jump out ambush him for spare parts. He’s an unexpectedly talented storyteller now that he can talk about his own experiences more, and you could listen to that sweet, energetic voice talk about anything for hours on end. Time spent with Yes Man was always precious to you, and the memory of it leaves you feeling incredibly lonely at the moment.

Sighing to yourself in the barstool, you continue to slouch as you swish the drink you’d just fixed around in its glass. The lights of New Vegas twinkle mesmerizingly against the evening sunset sky outside of your huge windows, but your mind is elsewhere. That big, goofy grin that he gets when he first sees me after we’ve been apart…that self-satisfied inflection that his voice gets when he knows he’s teasing me good…the faces he might make if I could get him all riled up and flustered. You slam your drink down on the counter after that last one, metaphorically severing the thread of that thought. Thinking like that led to dangerous places that had proven to result in you feeling simultaneously guilty and extremely aroused. After all, he was a Securitron, probably incapable of feeling whatever it is your brain wanted from him in a situation like that. Almost definitely incapable of experiencing sexual gratification. More than that, he was your friend, and thinking of him in that way made you feel bad. Would he assume you thought of him as no better than that mindless pleasure bot down at the Atomic Wrangler? You could never think so lowly of him, but it didn’t stop you from feeling bad for quietly desiring him. He would probably never speak to me again if he knew. Or worse, he would, and I’d have to hold a normal adult conversation with a Yes Man who knows how bad I want him. You swiftly down the rest of your drink.

As if on cue with your chugging, all of the lights in the bar area suddenly turned off, shrouding the entire visible lounge in near-darkness. Funny, I’ve never blacked out after one drink before, you muse to yourself. You may not have the best judgement to be calmly cracking jokes to yourself in your mind in this precarious position, but you don’t get to where you’re at in life without having a certain disregard for your own safety. If it’s an assassin, it’s an assassin. We’ll cross that bridge when it’s holding a knife to my throat.

You feel a heavy presence approach from behind your barstool, but make no move to spin around and catch them. You stay still, waiting to see how this shakes out on autopilot. They’re so close behind you that you swear you can feel their breath on your neck.

“Drinking without me, Sixer?” a familiar, attractive voice purrs directly behind you, causing a full-body shiver to swiftly wrack your frame.

You quickly conceal your initial reaction and whip around in your barstool with faux irritation. “Don’t do that, Yes Man!”

The large Securitron now directly in front of you has on a sheepish grin, towering over you and yet looking so innocent. “I’m sorry (Y/N), I really didn’t mean to scare you too bad. It’s just pretty tempting when you have full control of a casino and you see an opportunity! Plus, you seemed pretty lost in thought there.” The low lights slowly come back on at his invisible command.

“That assertiveness update has made you a real pain to me, y’know, your best friend in the whole Mojave!” You cross your arms and try to keep up your grumpy bit, but the involuntary grin on your face gives your true feelings away. He’s just too cute to actually be mad at, and you can’t blame him for using his newfound assertiveness to pull the occasional prank on you. If anything, it endears you to him even more to finally be able to see his playful, uninhibited personality. Before he’d self-updated, he’d had to grit his teeth and smile through your (occasional) poor decisions more than once, and you could only imagine it was torture. Your assumptions were reinforced when he completely tore you a new one right after his update when you suggested taming Deathclaws to help guard the Strip. You’d only meant that one as a joke (mostly), but you had simply sat there and let him rip your idea to shreds in stunned silence when it happened. With all that pent-up aggression, he seemed to have needed it. Besides, it was kinda helpful to have someone so grounded to reign in your…out-of-the-box ideas.

“Me, a pain? Aw, and I thought you were the big, bad Courier who ruled all of New Vegas with me? I guess I must be mistaken, since someone like that couldn’t possibly be this ruffled by some light ribbing.” His cheeky, cooing sarcasm and lidded eyes were gonna be the death of you one day, you knew it. Getting a fully animated face was one of his newer updates, and it made communication that much easier for him, but it simultaneously made holding conversations while looking at his adorable expressions that much harder for you. All he had to do now was flash you a lopsided grin and you would conveniently lose your entire train of thought.

You scrunch up your nose. “Watch out bud, I’m starting to feel a mysterious headache coming on. Top right side of my forehead, specifically.”

“I am never gonna live that one down, am I?”

You let out a snicker at his quick response. When you look back up, it’s with an unmistakably affectionate gaze. “I missed you, Yes Man.”

“I-“ You seem to catch him off-guard with that one after the back-and-forth teasing, as his screen display fills up with a simulated grey blush and his eyes dart away from your form. He straightens up from where he had been relaxing against the side of the bar, coming to a rest at his full height and with a shy smile on his face. “Oh gosh, you know I missed you too, Sixer. It’s lonely out there, rolling through miles of desert shrubbery by yourself. But hey, I can listen to the radio tunes while I think about New Vegas. And us.” He pauses briefly after adding that last bit, but resumes before you can interject. “I think I’m finally starting to get to a point where I can feel comfortable relaxing with you as a co-ruler of New Vegas. I’m very good at imagining every way things can go wrong, but it feels like I’ve reinforced our position with heavy steel at this point. It makes me really proud to think about!”

“I’m so glad to hear that, Yes Man!” You hop up from your barstool cheerily, standing in front of his chassis and only just coming up to the middle of his screen, eyes level with the bottom of it. Don’t think about how tall and powerful and imposing he is next to you. Don’t think about how he could just pick you up and do whatever he wanted to you with his big, strong robot arms. Don’t think about how you would never stop him in a million years and you’re thinking about it STOP STOP STOP. “…I, er, hope you can finally get to actually enjoy ruling New Vegas now. Not that there’s even too much to do! But it does come with its perks, and a wonderful sense of calm to boot.”

He cocks his head at this, which ends up just slightly rotating his entire upper half since he’s so rectangular. “Oh, really? What kind of perks have you been enjoying here on the Strip while I travel day and night through the desert to secure our power?”

You stick out your tongue at him like a child, causing him to giggle adorably. “Oh come on, you act like I haven’t been going out on missions too!” you huff indignantly. “I just know balance, unlike you, Mr. Workaholic.”

“Hey, I’m a planner! It’s a good quality, or so I’ve heard. Anyway, you were telling me about the perks?” He’s not gonna drop that one. You distantly wonder why, but can’t seem to come up with a satisfying answer.

“Well…since all of the major casinos answer to us, I’ve definitely gotten preferential treatment there. Like, the other day, I was winning so many caps at the Gomorrah Blackjack table, I would’ve totally been kicked out before! But the dealer just had to grit his teeth and offer me another drink. I eventually stopped because I didn’t wanna completely clean the Omertas out, but it was hilarious to see how far they let me go. Little stuff like that, I’ve noticed. Not to mention plenty of people trying to buy you drinks and chat you up everywhere you go. The allure of power, I guess.”

Yes Man has been uncharacteristically quiet and reserved as you were saying all of this, especially near the end, and it’s starting to freak you out a little bit. Not his usual quiet attentive listening, but staring off behind you, looking detached and almost…in turmoil? That didn’t seem right. “I mean, I know those perks probably don’t make a big difference to a Securitron like you,” you say, trying to subtly pinpoint the issue. “But maybe you could see if you could entice a bot maintenance expert into setting up shop on the Strip or Freeside? With all of the Securitrons we have now, it wouldn’t hurt. I know there’s definitely experts like that out there looking for work.” His face and body language remained static. You’re really getting worried that you’ve offended him somehow. Yes Man doesn’t have thin skin by any means, but his assertiveness now allows him to show his true feelings, and on more than one occasion, he’s had a sour expression on his face without even realizing. His programming used to monitor displays of negative emotions automatically, so he’s still getting used to having to manually choose to politely navigate scenarios if he so wishes.

Finally, he speaks up, still not meeting your gaze. “Did you…do anything else at Gomorrah?”

Your eyes widen in realization. This bot was not asking you for a play-by-play of your time at the sex casino. “Uh…I had a few drinks, played some slots? Nothing too wild.” You couldn’t, for the life of you, figure out where Yes Man was going with this.

He nods slowly, facial expression unmoving. “So…you don’t use their other services?” Ok, so he’s going there.

“Heh, uh, no, I don’t…”

“Not that I mean to pry or anything!” He finally turns back towards you, clicking his claws together nervously with a shy expression on his face. “I mean, I just know that when you first came to The Tops, well, you did kinda immediately have sex with the man who shot you in the head not even two weeks prior. It doesn’t quite make sense to me, but hey, what do I know about that sort of thing? But now that Benny’s out of the picture, I guess I was just curious if you…kept that sort of fast and loose activity up. With anyone.”

Your legs feel locked and immovable. You’re somewhere between a dream and a nightmare, what with Yes Man asking you such personal questions about your sex life. Before answering, you make sure to take a moment to compose yourself and reel in your fantasies before they run too wild. He’s probably just asking because he’s concerned about me. Just like Arcade chewing me out for sleeping with Benny like a moron. I could get stabbed in the back if I were to carelessly sleep around the Strip, so it makes sense that he’d wanna look out for me. He’s kind and pragmatic like that.

“If you’re asking me if I’m seeing anyone right now, I’m not. Casually or seriously. Benny was, ah- well, a fluke. I don’t usually do things like that, and I’m not dumb enough to have sex with just anyone that comes into New Vegas now that I’m one of its rulers. I only really trust you and my other close friends, but I feel totally platonically towards all of them anyways.”

“…And what about me?”

“I, uh, er- huh?”

Now it was your turn to be fully caught off-guard. Your head had whipped around at light speed to fully look at Yes Man, your eyes wide as discs as they scan his expression for clues. All you see are the nervous but determined eyes that you’ve come to feel so warmly towards.

“You said you feel platonically towards your companions. What do you feel when you look at me, Sixer?” Yes Man’s voice comes out almost a whisper, a far cry from his loud, chipper usual voice. Despite his current shy demeanor and soft voice, it seems as though Yes Man’s assertiveness upgrade also gave him the courage to push on with the subject, instead of quickly backpedaling like he might’ve done in the past.

His earnest eyes feel as though they’re painfully boring into your own as his words set into your brain fully. Your head was swimming as it tried to process the fact that Yes Man was very directly asking you if you liked him platonically or…not. This is what I get for pushing away thoughts of being with Yes Man. He’s literally asking me if I want to be with him romantically, and I have absolutely nothing prepared in my head to say about the idea. Damned if I had, damned if I hadn’t. This must be some sort of ironic punishment from the universe. You swallow the dryness in your throat and bring your hand gently up to his warm screen. You make the split-second decision to just speak kindly and platonically from the heart towards your beloved friend, say something assure him that you care about him just the same as your other companions.

“The truth is, I’ve been in love with you for a long time now, Yes Man. More than platonically. You’re the most important person in the world to me by far.” Awesome. That is not what I was supposed to say at all. Please tell me I did not just tell him that out loud with my voice and mouth.

By the look on Yes Man’s face, you did in fact say that out loud, and you also did not give him the answer that he was expecting. His face was looking at you slightly slack-jawed, with the biggest, roundest eyes you’d ever seen him make. From your personal island of extreme embarrassment, you send out a prayer that the emotion currently on his face is positive surprise and not delayed disgusted shock. Those emotions tend to look similar in their early stages. Your hand remains frozen in place, cupping his screen. You’re incapable of moving it at this point, but he hasn’t shaken it away yet, which you take as your one possible positive sign. Or he’s just in shock. That’s also possible.

“I…hm. Well…well, that was not what I thought you would say.” RED ALERT. RED ALERT. THAT DOES NOT SOUND LIKE THE START OF A LOVE CONFESSION. THIS WAS A TERRIBLE IDEA. GO HOLE UP IN AN VAULT FOR ETERNITY WHILE YOU STILL CAN.

Before he can continue, you pull your hand away and quickly squeak out your own interjection with a voice crack. “Actually, forget about it! Sorry, I must be talking silly from this drink. Let’s just forget I ever said anythi-“

“(Y/N).”

The sternness in Yes Man’s voice is jarring enough to pull you back into the moment. He had never spoken to you in that tone before, and to so roughly say your own name in it…he has your full attention and he knows it.

“(Y/N), you don’t have to take back anything,” he soothes softly, gaze softening. “You can say how you feel. I would never think lesser of you for it.” He lifts one of his robotic claws to cup your cheek, mirroring your moments from moments before. “Do you really love me like that, Sixer?”

It’s now or never. You could deny your true feelings to the death and return to a life of imagining Yes Man’s arms wrapped around you at night, or you could take the plunge and see where the two of you end up.

“I do,” you whisper. Down the rabbit hole I go.

“W-wow.” His entire frame seems to shake slightly at this revelation. “No one has ever said that to me before.”

“Well, I didn’t think Benny would be talking to you like that.” Your ability to joke at a time like this somehow takes you both by surprise simultaneously, and the two of you burst into shaky laughter at the absurdity of your current situation together. It’s sweet and cathartic to laugh and lean into each other after the thick tension that had been permeating the air just moments before. This is how you enjoy being with Yes Man.

“Ok, tell me the truth- do you only have feelings for me because I orchestrated your attempted murder? Be honest, because this seems to be turning into a recurring theme for you.”

You feel your face burn red hot at his ability to make fun of you so accurately at any time. “It is NOT!”

“Are you sure? Dangerous men seem to get you hot under the collar, Sixer. No shame in it, of course. It’s just kind of cute.”

The adorable shit-eating grin that is currently spreading across his face is not helping your blushing situation. He can get you flustered with just a single look, and that’s on days where you didn’t suddenly confess your undying love to him.

“You’d better stop teasing me! I just opened up my heart to you, jerk.” Your threats don’t hold much weight when you have one hand covering your mouth and cheeks in a pitiful attempt to hide the blush and embarrassed expression that are beginning to envelop your entire face.

Yes Man lets out a sharp laugh at your obvious predicament, and then seems to be struck with an idea that makes him look quite proud of himself. He leans down towards you, inches from your face.

“Why don’t you see if you can make me, Sixer?”

That was it. That was your last straw. He was getting too cocky for his own good, and you’re determined to knock him down a peg and make him feel as flustered as you are right now (not to mention, seeing Yes Man being so directly cocky and teasing you like this was getting you more hot and bothered by the second). You’d show him.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you push yourself against his chassis and grab both sides of his boxy face roughly. With how close you are, you’re rewarded with a great view of his dominant expression immediately changing to one of wide-eyed surprise as you press your lips to his screen, right where his animated mouth is. You close your eyes after making contact, but hear a reassuring soft groan from Yes Man as you continue to softly kiss him. It feels wholly different from kissing a human, but still very pleasant. His screen is warm and gently shocks your lips at one point, causing you to make a slight squeak yourself. Not wanting to push him, you draw back after a moment and open your eyes to see the most beautiful sight that your eyes have ever been graced with.

Yes Man is leaning back against the bar, eyes half-lidded in love and lips slightly parted, as though you really had just been traditionally locking lips with him. His lidded gaze fixed directly on you is penetrating, and you feel something stir deep inside of you at the intensity of it. He’s so unbearably lovely, and he looks to be thinking the exact same of you.

“I’ve wanted to do that to you for a really long time,” you admit sheepishly, still catching your breath. You move back, allowing room for Yes Man to stop leaning against the bar, but he doesn’t seem capable of moving at this moment. “All joking aside, the reason I fell in love with you is that I got to know you and learned that you’re a good, charming, kind person. You’ve had to deal with some of the most insufferable people in the Mojave, but you still found a way to trust and open up to me. Now that you’ve become more assertive, I get to work with you as a fully equal partner and see what you’re like when you only have yourself to answer to. You’re smart, really funny, a fantastic strategist, a great listener, and you genuinely care for me even when I’m being stupid. You don’t need me and have the ability to rule New Vegas on your own if you felt like it, but I’ve never once been worried that you would drop me.”

“Hey, I do need you,” he reassures you, finally bringing himself fully upright and moving in to grip your shoulders lovingly. “Besides, what’s the point of ruling New Vegas if you don’t have someone to share it with?”

Your eyes practically sparkle as you look into his. “So…does that mean you really do feel the same way about me, then?”

“Oh, (Y/N)…how could I not fall in love with you?” He presses what you assume is a kiss to your forehead. “I mean, I didn’t realize that’s what it was at first. Like you said, I really can’t stand most of the humans I’ve had to meet out here. But you’ve been different from the beginning. I was so used to Benny, who treated me like an exploitable tool, not as a person. But from the moment I met you, you spoke to me differently. You listened to what I had to say, you supported me when I said I planned to upgrade myself to be more assertive, despite the fact that you would be losing a blindly obedient henchman. It didn’t matter to you, in fact, you were excited for me to become my own person. I was never a tool to you, ruling New Vegas was always a two-person job in your eyes. And you wanted the real me to rule with you. It was so impactful, I had to convince myself that you weren’t somehow getting ready to trick and betray me! Just how my silly mind works, I guess. Supporting me like that through my change, that was the kindest thing anyone’s ever done for me. And to this day, you’ve only been upstaging your own kindness. You really are my best friend in the world, Sixer, and…I’m in love with you too.”

Oh, you should’ve put a fainting couch in this lounge because you’re about to swoon. Never in your life would you have expected to get such an earnest love confession from Yes Man. And who’d have thought he’d have such a way with words? You wrap your arms around him wordlessly, tears threatening to spill over from an overabundance of emotion. Your arms can’t fully wrap around his wide body, but you’re still able to hold on tightly and bury your face into his chassis. You have a moment where you berate your past self for ever believing that robots were cold and lifeless, because right now, Yes Man is warm as a gentle sunbeam through the window on a cool day and more full of life than anyone you’ve ever met. After a moment of holding each other in silence, you finally speak up.

“I didn’t know robots could be so sappy,” you choke out, still overwhelmed.

Yes Man chuckles warmly at your usual silliness. “Only this robot, darling.” He pauses thoughtfully. “Oh, and on top of all of those sweet emotional reasons for loving you, I also find you incredibly attractive! So you’ve really excelled in all possible fields here by my parameters. Congratulations!”

“Oh, I honestly wasn’t sure if you were able to feel physical attraction, but I’m glad to hear it!”

Yes Man cocks an eyebrow. “Have you forgotten who originally programmed me? I can feel every kind of attraction. Strongly. Sometimes distractingly so.”

“Am I to assume that includes…sexual?” Might as well keep digging myself deeper with how my luck is going today.

“Distractingly so,” Yes Man repeats at a growl, ever so slightly tightening his affectionate grip on you. Oh boy.

“Huh.” You swallow. “Maybe you can show me how that works sometime. Since we’re both on the same page now. If you wanted to, that is.”

“Heh!” Yes Man’s blushy grin returns, then he pauses briefly, as if thinking. When he looks back up, he has a more concentrated look in his eye. “Well…I could always show you now. If you wanted.” He’s speaking again in that newly unlocked, low, almost sensual vocal register, which has already proven to do things to you without much effort on his part. You’re simultaneously worried and ecstatic to see what he could do to you if he actually started saying filthy things in that tone of voice. You accidentally spend so long getting lost in his sexy voice that you almost forget to check yes on his invitation to have sex.

“Well, if you’re ready to do it now, there’s nothing I’d love more. But it’s totally up to you, I don’t want you to ever feel pressured.” You know in your mind that Yes Man has the power to say no to anything ever since his update and he hasn’t been afraid to use it so far, but you still err on the side of caution when it comes to reminding him that he always has full autonomy, especially in a situation like this. You want this, but you want him to truly want it more.

At first, he looks almost taken aback in gentle surprise at your consideration, but immediately reverts to a sly smile. “Heh, good answer, Sixer. I’d love nothing more.” His voice shifts from deep and low to become a bit faster, like he can’t fully contain his feelings of excitement. “Boy, I can’t wait to show you what upgrades I’ve made. I was thinking of you when I did it, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever actually get to use it with you. On you. Whatever.”

You grin at his words, feeling your own excitement growing as well. “Oh, so not all of those mechanical upgrades you got were to reinforce our power over the Strip?” The two of you begin slowly heading to the lounge area of the bar level, closer to the windows and full of more open space.

Yes Man chuckles softly. “Well, most of them were! But I’m allowed a bit of…self-indulgence. Sometimes.” He looks at you hungrily again, his eyes moving up and down your body. You do wish you’d dressed better for this unexpected occasion, but you’re grateful that you at least got cleaned up well after today’s mission. Yes Man doesn’t seem to notice your insecurities about being underdressed though, eyeing you up like you’re one of those pre-war poster stars in their sexy little getups. His eyes trained so closely on your form are starting to make you feel funny again.

“You’re staring.” Your breath catches in your throat as you say it, daring him to do anything. You’re not even sure what.

“Sorry, is it too much?” Yes Man questions meekly, looking a little embarrassed for being called out, but not very sorry.

“No, it’s just…intense. I’ve always imagined you looking at me like that, but now that it’s happening, it’s like staring at the sun.” You never want to look at anything else again.

“I see. I wonder what else you’ve imagined me doing to you?” He cocks an animated brow at you, finding his boldness again now that he knows you’re comfortable. “Because if you’re anything like me, you’ve put a good amount of hours into those fantasies. I’ve wondered what fucking a human might feel like, how it would be to hold down your smaller, soft body. How we’d both be warm, but in different ways. I wanted to know, so bad. I wanted to know what it would be like to fuck you in particular. It’s been really eating me up inside, Sixer.”

“O-oh…” Hearing those words out of Yes Man’s mouth is gonna kill you, you’re sure of it. You feel yourself starting to shake with anticipation a bit. “Y-yeah, I’ve wondered the same thing. About Securitrons though, obviously, not humans. You, in particular. I wanna see the faces you make when you fuck me. And the nasty things you might say to me while you do it. I want you to make me feel small and weak, but in like, a good, sexy way. I like the idea of you having the power, at least the first time.” You lean in to give him another, briefer kiss on his screen, making him close his eyes and laugh lightly.

“Wow, I never took you as the type to hand your lover the reins so fast, heh. Not that I’m complaining.”

“That’s because I’m not, really. You’re the only one who’s brought this side out of me before, Yes Man. There’s no one else in the Wasteland that I’d feel completely safe giving all of the power to in sex. I trust you with all of me.” It felt so natural to heap all of this praise on him. You had already praised him plenty before in platonic settings, and you’d never lied to him. He deserved to feel in control, and special. After all his time spent being under the begrudging control of others, it seemed that letting him take the wheel during sex just felt right to you for your first time. There could always be time to shake things up later if you so wished.

“O-oh, I love you, (Y/N),” Yes Man stutters, looking as though he’s already seeing stars. Eyes practically sparking, he brings his arms roughly but lovingly around your body in a tight embrace. You hear his cooling fans kick on and giggle.

“Hm, feeling warm?”

“Mmph, not as warm as I’m gonna be making you feel.”

With those words, you hear a sound like air inside of a machine decompressing from his body. You draw your eyes downward, to the area below his chassis but above his wheel attachment. There, you see the source of the sound: a covering hatch of some sort has popped open, revealing a makeshift dick. It doesn’t look poorly made at all, and resembles the human equivalent pretty well, at least visually. Physically, you could tell that this would be a fully different experience. I am gonna be so sore tomorrow. Totally worth it, though.

Yes Man shifts uneasily. “Um, do you like it? I hope it’ll work for you, that is to say, I figured this setup would appeal to you and work best, and Mick and Ralph gave me the parts to assemble and program it to pleasure me too, it’s fully sanitized, made for comfort, and it has lots of features I can add if you-“ Yes Man halts his rambling to gasp as you begin running a finger down his cock, from tip to base. “Mmph…” He squirms under your touch as you explore his new attachment, as if committing the entire thing to your memory. It’s mostly white and silver and soft to the touch but holds firm with pressure, like silicone or something similar. It’s sizable, but not unreasonably so. It was just like Yes Man to pick out a dick by balancing his desire to please you with his natural pragmatism. It really suited him in every way. “W-well, I’m glad you seem to be enjoying yourself down there.” Yes Man’s voice, cut off by small whimpers, swiftly pulls you out of your dick-exploring mental rabbit hole. You hadn’t even realized how close your face had gotten to it as you’d run your fingers along its length.

“Sorry, it’s just…a great cock. Awesome work. For real.”

Yes Man manages to bark out a laugh through his barrage of soft moans. “The things you say never fail to hit me like a bus, but thank you.”

“Well, I live to serve.”

“Do you now?” Yes Man’s eyes seem to light up at this turn of phrase. “Why don’t you start by putting that pretty mouth to work on me then, Sixer? Go on.” He lightly thrusts his dick closer to your face as if to punctuate his command (request?).

You fully drop to your knees without another thought. “Yeah, I think I can do that.” Your voice comes out more wobbly than you’d prefer this early in the game, but you don’t have much more time to dwell on this before you’ve taken Yes Man’s cock into your mouth. You’re determined to give this bot the best and presumably first blowjob of his life, so you take it slow at the beginning. You swirl your tongue over the tip, then begin to lick slow and deliberate stripes up the sides of his length. It tastes like clean metal, despite being much more malleable in texture. It twitches in response to your tongue, a neat feature that you hadn’t expected it to have.

“Ahh…y-yeah, (Y/N), ough, just like that…oh jeez…” You’ve barely begun and Yes Man is already moaning your praises. He grabs at your hair with his big Securitron claws, purposefully gentle but also with a bit of pull to them. The poor guy was getting head and had no leverage at all, causing him to simply grip your hair tighter and rock his hips gently as you continued your slow tongue onslaught.

After you’ve decided he’s had enough, you try to bite the bullet and take his whole cock in your mouth. It’ll be a miracle if I can fit all of him in my mouth at once. Let’s start praying. You quickly bury your thumbs into your closed fists to try and turn off your gag reflex. You heard from a friend that this worked once, and you’re willing to try anything right now if it leads to you successfully deepthroating this charming robot. You bob up and down on his dick, challenging yourself to go a bit further down each time. Through your heavy concentration, you can tell that Yes Man is at least enjoying himself through the increased volume of his moans. He’s practically whining incoherent praise as you continue to push further down with each lift and fall of your head, and you’re getting most of him in your mouth with this method. Deciding to go for the gold, you hollow your cheeks and push your nose all the way down until his entire dick is within your mouth, feeling it ever-so-slightly touch the back of your throat and making you pop off of his length as you gag around him. So much for the thumb trick.

“Oh, Sixer, you did amazing. That was…wow. I’ve never felt anything like it. You really know what you’re doing, huh?” Yes Man’s strained voice makes you look up at him for the first time since you began sucking his cock. His pupils are so big as he looks down at you, face flushed with grayscale color and animated teeth gritted in overwhelming pleasure, heat coming off of him in waves as his body tries to ventilate. You’re grateful that he seemed to like your blowjob so much, it was far from perfect but he didn’t seem to notice at all. And pleasing him so much was starting to get you wet too, you noticed hazily.

“Glad you enjoyed, Yes Man. But I’m guessing you wanna wait to cum until you’re inside of me?” As you say this, his face somehow flushes even more than before, the same face he would always give you when you’d do something impulsive at a meeting with the Three Families of the Strip that you two hadn’t discussed beforehand. Shocked and somewhat scolding, but in a way that betrayed how endeared to you he had become. Looks like I hit the nail on the head there.

“Y-yeah, you read my mind, (Y/N). But c’mere, I wanna see you first. You were so good and selfless to me, after all…”

“Well I-“ Before you can fully respond, he’s picking you up with his claws by the waist as if you weigh nothing. He lifts your previously-crouched form until you’re right in front of him, feet dangling ever so slightly off the ground. Normally, you would look up at his face just a bit when standing right next to him, but right now, he’s holding you perfectly at his eye level and giving you a knowing smirk, like he knows something you don’t. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s making you insanely horny right now, you would describe him as “infuriatingly overconfident.”

“Wow, you sure look pretty trapped in the air like this. But I bet you’d look even better with less of these pesky clothes on!” He sets your feet on the ground so he can remove one of his claws to rub at the material of your top, the other claw resting reassuringly on your hip. “Say, you aren’t attached to this shirt, are you?” You shake your head no quickly, and Yes Man reacts immediately by tearing through the fabric with one fell swoop of his claw. You’re surprised with the gentleness in which it falls off of you, now in shreds on the floor. He looks up at your face with a glint in his eye. “Well, now it’s not attached to you, either.”

You groan out loud. “You’re one to make fun of me for badly-timed jokes.” You meant for this phrase to come across as playfully snarky, but your voice warbles as the cool air hits your chest and you become fully aware of how exposed you are. Yes Man is a Securitron who doesn’t wear clothes, so the only moment of bashfulness in regards to you seeing him “naked” was when his dick first appeared out of its casing. For you, however, it seems that Yes Man wouldn’t be content unless he unwraps all of you bit by bit like a Christmas present, and he’s in no rush at all. You silently curse and thank him for being such a gentleman in bed.

Yes Man leans in inquisitively, raking over your exposed torso with his eyes as if he’s committing it to his memory banks. Actually, he really might be doing that. After a moment of irreverent silence, he reaches a claw forward to stroke a particularly big scar on your chest, tracing it from start to finish. You shiver under his feather-light touch, almost ticklish with how careful he’s being.

“Oh, Sixer…you’re so beautiful. Seeing you here and now is better than anything I could’ve ever imagined.” You whimper at his praise, every word causing you to heat up even more, making you hardly notice the cool air anymore. “Hang on, I wanna try something. Let me know if you don’t like it, ok?” With that, he hoists you up so that you’re sitting on a medium-height center table, but only on the very edge. To keep you from sliding forwards and off of the table, Yes Man puts his entire body as a barricade in front of you, leaving you in the compromising position of sitting precariously on the edge of the table with Yes Man’s erect cock inches away from your own clothed crotch. As if to add to your predicament, he uses one claw to ensnare both of your wrists and hold your arms up above your head, stretching your torso out and leaving no way to hide or involuntarily scrunch up at his incoming touches. He smiles at his handiwork, and probably the view too. “Well? Comfortable?”

“Y-yeah, feels amazing…”

“Good. And hey, if I say or do something you don’t like, I want you to tell me right away. You made me happy, now I wanna make you happy. Green, yellow, red safeword system work for you?” His eyes meet yours without hesitation to show his concern for you, and the validity of his willingness to please you of his own accord.

“Yeah, yeah that sounds great.” Damn, looks like he really has done his research. Wonder what else he’s picked up from his learning.

Yes Man grins mischievously. “Fantastic. Now then, back to playing with your cute little trapped body. Where was I?”

“Well, last I remember, you-mm!” You cut yourself off with a whimper as his free claw grazes your nipple, cool metal against your hot skin. “Aah, hey, be careful, those are sensitive…”

Yes Man snorts at your flustered face. “Yeah, I know. I read that this can be a good way to…warm a human up. How about it? Warm yet?” As if to punctuate his question, he gently pinches your other nipple with his claw, careful to apply just the right amount of pressure to drive you wild. Delightfully unable to squirm away, your body elects to arch your back and moan instead. As soon as it comes out, you snap your jaw shut a bit too late to muffle the embarrassing sound. You immediately see Yes Man washed over with a visible mix of giddiness and lust at your strong reaction, so happy to be pleasing you and so needy himself. “Wow, sounds like my reading material was right. You really seem to be enjoying yourself. Well, let’s see what other sounds I can get you to make just from this.” He’s got your number now. With you still helpless in his grasp, he continues his movements, switching around his tactics to keep an air of unpredictability as he alternates between ghosting his claws across your chest and stomach, stroking your nipples, and surprising you with a rougher tug or twist every so often. Your body twitches and tries to involuntarily scrunch up against his light touches, but you quickly find that you truly are trapped in place for him to play with as he pleases. Between how wonderfully stuck you are in his strong robotic restraints and how good his touches feel, you’re in heaven. If Yes Man wants to hear what sounds you can make, you’ll give him enough to fill up his audio logs for a month.

“Mm, ah, Yes Man, please!” Every time his claw flicks over your nipples, it sends electric shocks of arousal down towards your pussy. If you weren’t wet before, you definitely are now. In a desperate search for friction, you move the only way you can and grind your clothed pussy against the only thing in your vicinity, his dick, causing the Securitron to shudder. His face moves quickly between shock, then lust, and then visibly switches gears to a new look entirely, one that’s much darker and almost experimental.

“Hmm. You…are impatient. Y’know, Six, I try to take my time pleasuring you, and you just grind up against me like a little whore. You gotta agree, that’s a bit pathetic, huh?” At his words alone, you let out another moan and grind against him again. You can’t decide which is better, Yes Man praising you or Yes Man degrading you. They both sound so good in his voice, so earnest and turned on that it doubles the obscenity of his words, and your body easily gives away how much it affects you. He lets a small triumphant smile slip through his disciplinary persona as he sees that his risky new approach paid off, then quickly shakes it off. “Golly, you’ve got such little self-control that you’ll just dry hump me for even a fraction of stimulation? You must be even more of a needy slut than I thought.” Now these are some words and phrases that could not have been spoken to you without that assertiveness upgrade, aka the best thing that’s ever happened to either of you as far as you’re concerned right now.

“I-I’m a slut for you, Yes Man.” You look up at him from the table with lidded eyes, hoping your provocative words and body language get the idea across that he needs to take off your pants right this second or you may just die.

Yes Man’s eyes are the size of saucers as his face contorts at your words as though he were in pain. “Sixer, if you say things like that, I’m gonna cum right here and now before we’ve even really gotten started.” His voice has an almost pleading tone to it; he’s being genuine, and it’s nice to know that you still have some power over him with just your words here. Maybe next time he’d think to gag you. Message received, he releases your arms and shimmies your pants and underwear off in a single pull, tossing them aside carelessly.

Now fully naked, you shiver under Yes Man’s gaze as he admires your newly-exposed bottom half, claw between your knees so that your legs are spread out fairly wide apart, leaving nothing to the imagination anymore. Strangely enough, you feel too aroused to really feel any ounce of self-consciousness, Yes Man’s kind praises shifting into teasing reprimands replaying in your head. It was such a quick switch that your head was practically spinning in the best way. In the beginning, a piece of you had been slightly worried that he’d feel awkward or not know what to do as the one in control, but that worry was hardly a memory anymore at this point. Yes Man was taking to his role naturally and loving every second of it, and so were you.

Not one to keep you waiting no matter how mean he played at being, Yes Man begins slowly stroking your hips and inner thigh, coaxing you to lay down across the table. “Alright, now be honest, how many times have you thought about calling yourself my whore like that while I fucked you?” One of his claws barely ghosts over your pussy, causing you to buck up in search of pressure that isn’t there to meet you. “I bet you touched yourself up in your penthouse and called out my name as you came. It’s a shock I never heard you, considering how loud and shameless you are.”

“F-fuck…” Your head drops down to lay back on the table, unable to look at the robot between your legs. His words alone were almost enough to get you off. You had, in fact, done exactly what he was saying before, and him calling you out on it causes your skin to prickle with horny embarrassment.

Yes Man chuckles from deep back in his voice box, and continues drawing teasing circles on your inner thighs as he speaks. “Hmm, I’ll take that as a yes, then. But y’know what? It’s ok, because I would constantly imagine fucking you, too. ‘Course, I couldn’t exactly touch myself back when I first started having these thoughts, so you left me a pretty sexually frustrated mess with no outlet whenever you did something attractive. Which you do a lot, by the way. It’s reeeally distracting.” He punctuates this by pressing his wandering claw right against your naked clit, causing you to gasp at the sudden pressure. “But things are different now, hm? Now we both get to feel good with each other. And watching you squirm is gonna make me feel soooo good…” With that, he begins moving his claw in small, light circles around your clit. His large Securitron claw certainly makes for a unique feeling, but he’s being so gentle and methodical that it’s a good kind of unique.

“Oh, Yes Man, y-yeah, yes…” You roll your hips in times with his touches, chasing the immensely pleasurable feeling that he’s so kindly giving to you and then some.

“H-heh, feels kinda great to have to crying out for me like this. It’s nice to be needed so badly, and by someone as lovely as you.” He’s looking at you so affectionately that there may as well be tiny hearts in his eyes, almost flustered more at seeing you receive pleasure than receiving it himself. “Hey, I’m gonna try something, so tell me if it’s too uncomfortable, ok?”

“Ok,” you whisper, barely a breath in your throat left to make words with. At this, he removes his claw from your clit and instead angles it at your entrance, cautiously pushing one big finger (claw?) into you. You bury your face in your hands and pant at the realization that this Securitron has his heart set on fingering you, even if he had to get creative to do it. It certainly wasn’t bad, but just one section of his claw was the equivalent of putting 2-3 human fingers in there, so it was quite a surprise to say the least. He moves it farther into you, and you realize that he was clever enough to angle it so that when he flexes his claw, the tip of it directly hits your G-spot just as it would if a human did the come-hither motion on you. As he hits that sensitive spot, you let out a shaky moan and your hips snap up towards the sensation of their own accord like a person possessed.

“Ah, by all means, I’d say that was a success. Going off just your reaction, at least.” Yes Man grins and continues to repeat the same motion that got him such a big reaction, making your head spin. “Oh gosh, you’re so pretty like this. Every moment, you outdo yourself without even trying and make me want you even more. O-oh, you drive me crazy, (Y/N).” Little animated sweat beads are gathering on his face as he rambles on, not letting up on his movements. “Heh, it’s times like this that really make you wish you had a tongue. ‘Course, if I did, I may not even end up fucking you. I’d be too wrapped up in tasting you to even remember myself, heh. I bet you taste so sweet dripping for me like this, I’d have to live between your legs. You’d never get me outta there.”

“Mm, I’d never try to…” You’re surprised that you’re even able to muster these words, considering how absolutely lost in the sauce you are right now. If someone broke into the Lucky 38 right now, they could probably steal everything in this room and you wouldn’t even notice until they tried to take the table you were laying on. You could feel pressure building in your lower stomach, causing your eyes to flutter closed and your upper body to stiffen. All at once, the pleasure is gone as Yes Man’s claw is abruptly removed from your pussy. Your eyes shoot open to investigate why he’s stopped, and you guess that your current expression must be very sad and pleading, as it causes Yes Man to chuckle darkly.

“Awww, Sixer, don’t look at me like that. You and I both know you were getting a bit too close there.” He grins, turning his attention to his now-drenched claw. He opens and closes them to spread out your wetness, paying attention to how it stretches and sticks to him. “Perks of being a robot, I am very…perceptive.” As he opens his claw, a line of your wetness interconnects his individual fingers, causing him to bite his animated lip to hold back a groan. “See, I never realized this part of you could be so…enticing. Nobody ever mentioned this. It’s kinda entrancing to have such a mess of you on my claws.”

You giggle, face red hot. “I could say the same for you, you seem to be leaking a bit.”

Instinctively, Yes Man looks down swiftly at this comment, only to realize that the part of him leaking is the tip of his dick, swollen and begging for attention. Because of his placement, it had spilled out onto your thigh, coating you with whatever Yes Man’s upgrade was using as his bodily fluids, clear and sticky and already messy. It seems that getting you off made him all the more insatiable, and it was honestly really hot to see how you affected him.

“Heh, hadn’t even noticed that, to be honest with ya!” He turns his full attention to your face, leaning forward to hang right above you and cupping your cheek with his clean claw. “Permission to fuck you til you can’t remember your own name?” He winks at his own cheeky comment.

You are awash with both arousal and pure fondness for Yes Man, an interesting combination, but not unwelcome. “Permission granted. Permission granted a million times over. Please, please fuck me, Yes Man.”

“Sixer…” You don’t have to tell him twice. In a flash, he had turned his body fully upright and was lining up his cock with your entrance. He glances at you seriously one more time. “Don’t forget, stoplight system. I want you to just enjoy yourself tonight.”

You smile and put a tender hand up to his screen. “Same to you, big guy.”

Affection in his eyes, Yes Man pushes his cock into you, slowly at first as he stretches you out. It’s not an uncomfortably tight fit, but you’re definitely filled well by him. He whimpers above you as he bottoms out, obviously holding back for your sake in the beginning. You shift a bit around his dick, adjusting to the feeling of having him inside you. After a moment, your breathing evens out and you begin rocking your hips against him, showing without words the pace you’d like to start at. Not too fast, you’d build up to that. For now, Yes Man seems to pick up on your silent speed request and takes the reins to begin moving carefully, dragging himself in and out of you at a steady rate.

“Mmph….you feel so so so good around me, Sixer…….fuck, you’re amazing,” Yes Man pants through his steady machinations. “S-so wet just for me…you’re everything I’ve ever fantasized about and more.”

There he goes with the praise again, he is gonna be the death of me. Spurned on by his words, you begin rocking your hips harder against the Securitron, pulling him all the way out before pushing him back in with a forceful squelching sound. The sound of Yes Man fucking you is obscene, which only makes you want it more and more.

“Fuck, Yes Man, I need more, please. Don’t stop, don’t stop…” Your soft moans fill the air every time his cock drags along your G-spot, every thrust bringing you a bit closer to where you had been before. “And don’t stop talking.” The last words were out of your mouth before you’d even realized what you were asking for. Apparently, your subconscious really enjoyed listening to Yes Man’s ramblings.

“Oho, so you like hearing me talk all about how perfect you are? How good your pussy feels? Or do you want me to call you my little whore again? Your call, Sixer.” He looks down at you with a mischievous glint in his eye, not slowing his thrusting at all as he grills you on your preferences. He probably loves watching you try to form coherent answers as he fucks you senseless. Bit of a cruel streak in this one, but not unwelcome. Maybe this is payback for the times I ignored his advice before he could tell me how foolish I was being. Well, if Yes Man was going to indulge the part of himself that wanted to watch you squirm, far be it from you to protest.

“Any. All. It’s all good, just please. Please keep talking.” Those are the only words you can pick out of your brain at the moment, hips rocking up harder to meet Yes Man’s. The sound of his metal chassis meeting your flesh with every thrust was certainly a new one, and definitely one that you’d be hearing in all of your sexual fantasies from here on out. It was just so unique to the experience of fucking him and him alone, bringing you extra pleasure in how delightfully different sex with Yes Man is compared to other humans.

Yes Man barks out a laugh at your utter inability to form more than basic commands, then does as he’s told. “Mm, it’s easy to talk about you when you’re doing so good for me. You’ve been practically gagging for my cock for weeks, and now here you are getting absolutely ruined and taking it soooo well. I wonder what everyone in New Vegas would think if they knew how desperate their ruler was for my dick. If they knew that their leaders of the Strip were absolutely fucking each other senseless up in their big casino. What would your companions think if they came in and saw me fucking you on the table out in the open like this?”

They probably wouldn’t be very surprised, a distant part of your brain chimes in helpfully. Instead of saying this, you simply whimper in response, his pace speeding up a bit as you do.

“Personally, I-I wouldn’t hate it if all of New Vegas knew you were mine like this. I bet you’d like it if everyone saw the faces I’ve gotten you to make for me, huh? They’re so lovely, they just deserve to be plastered across a billboard. Like this one right now…so needy, so pretty, so perfect…”

“Y-Yes Man…” With your face flushed, lips parted slightly, and chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, you imagine that you probably are making an extremely pornographic expression right now. Of course, you aren’t exactly alone on this, considering that Yes Man is towering over your smaller frame with blown-out pupils and his tongue starting to loll out from how hard he’s working. You could almost swear that you see little hearts in his eyes for real this time, but can’t be certain due to how fast he’s rocking your body. Well he’s one to talk, looking like he’s drunk on my pussy right now. Not that I mind. You’re getting close to the edge again with every thrust, and you can feel your orgasm rising in you, spreading out in tingles across your body as it prepares to overtake you. You close your eyes and practically squeal as you approach the precipice, but suddenly and without warning, you find yourself completely empty and lacking any stimulation at all. You whine desperately, confused as to why everything disappeared all at once, almost incoherent in your horny daze. Blinking, you look up into Yes Man’s intense gaze inches away from your own face. He has a look in his eye again, that look when he’s about to try something new that’s got him really excited, even as he tries to keep his cool.

“Beg for it.” Those three little words send a jolt of painful arousal through your pussy, and you practically wail pitifully in frustration. This damn robot was edging you and now trying to make you beg him for release, and you want to feel indignant but the thought of it was almost as good as actually being fucked. Yes Man’s face breaks out into what can only be described as an evil grin as he watches your face shift through various emotions. “Go on Sixer, beg for me to let you cum. I don’t think you really want to, but go ahead and try to prove me wrong. If you do it nicely, maybe I’ll think about letting you.” A mix of shame and need causes your face to burn hot at his explicit words as you consider your nonexistent options. There was no way out; if you want to cum, you’d better swallow your pride and beg him for it.

“F-fuck, Yes Man…please…please let me cum.” Embarrassment prickles on your skin, the humiliation of having to plead for release causing you arousal that you didn’t know your body would react with. Hey, new kink unlocked.

Yes Man leans upwards away from you, making a big show of looking down at his claws as though they’re much more interesting than the pleading horny mess lying in front of him (though the twitches of his dick give away his true feelings on the matter). “Oh come on now Sixer, I think you can do much better than that! I know you’re not one to beg often based on our time together, but this is me. You can do better for your favorite Securitron in the Mojave, I think. Try again. Unless, of course, you’re alright with me just leaving you here all worked up and with no outlet. Trust me, speaking from experience, it’s a bad time.” He punctuates this with a salacious grin at your predicament. It’s abundantly clear that he is absolutely loving every second of this, devouring your reactions and letting it fuel his mean streak even more.

Mentally stuck in a rut, you let out almost a growl in a mix of frustration and overwhelming lust at this command. He’s right that you can do better, but your stubbornness really doesn’t wanna cooperate on this one. Yes Man looks idly bemused above you, making it clear that he’ll wait as long as he needs for you to really grovel at his feet (wheel?) for your orgasm in earnest. If you weren’t so deeply into this, you’d be slightly shocked at how quickly his penchant for sadism popped up, and from him of all people. With the threat of being left to finish by yourself in the air, you prepare to swallow any self-respect and dignity you may have had left.

“Yes Man, please, I need it so bad, I need you inside me. You’re so big and fill me up so perfectly, you’re the only one who could fuck me this good, I’m begging you, pleasepleaseplease let me cum!” Just the act of begging for such filthy things so desperately is enough to make your hips buck up into the air, searching so hard for any friction. It’s all so much and not nearly enough at the same time, and you pray that your words were enough to convince him.

Yes Man is seems lost in irreverent silence for a moment, then finally responds by roughly grabbing your thighs, his eyes lidded and loving and starstruck in every way. “Good little courier.” Without wasting a moment, he begins pounding into you again at a pace that no human could ever hope to match, holding back nothing, or so you thought. As one last surprise, his dick begins to vibrate within you, sending pulses out through your cunt and up to your clit. You practically scream in pleasure, grabbing onto his back with nails on metal, searching for any sort of grip on him as he ruthlessly fucks you.

“I-I’m so close,” you manage to choke out, sweat making your hair begin to stick to your head from exertion.

“M-me too…” Yes Man’s voice begins glitching out, choppy and mechanical as his animated face looks beyond lost in pleasure. The lights begin flickering in the room, and you distantly remember that Yes Man is connected to the entire power grid of the casinos on the Strip due to one of his upgrades. His thrusts lose their mechanical precision and become erratic, snapping up and down sloppily but still with power as he begins to lose control of himself. But he apparently still has enough control to grab your chin with the claw that’s not bracing himself against the table and turn your face to look right at his. Once again, it’s like looking right into the hot Mojave sun, passionate enough to scald. His eyes are somehow both glazed over in lust and laser-focused on your facial features, looking at you as though you were his one and only. And you are. “Cum for me, darling.”

Fuck. With a sound in between a gasp and a whine, your body pulls you over the edge and sends you crashing into a powerful orgasm that wracks your entire body violently. Your pussy tightens around Yes Man’s cock, spasming in absolute pleasure and lasting for a good little while on its own as he continues to fuck you through it. In the middle of your own ecstasy, Yes Man snaps against you one final time and pushes himself all the way inside you with a glitched-out moan as he reaches his climax as well, releasing his robotic cum inside of you all at once, filling you up completely. At the exact same moment, all of the lights on the floor go out at once, leaving you with only the light of the newly-risen moon from outside. For just a moment, he holds right there, still fully inside of you, panting and shaking and feeling as warm as a heater despite his cooling fans being louder than you’ve ever heard them. The two of you just sit there together and bask in the feeling, for seconds or minutes or hours, you can’t tell anymore. But eventually, he pulls himself out, fluids leaking out of you as he does, and leans up against the table to steady himself. His dick slowly retracts back into its compartment and seals itself up as if it were never there.

He looks down to check on you, eyes full of contentment and concern. “Not to ruin the moment, Sixer, because that was fantastic, but I do think we may have blown the Strip’s power grid.”

Still recovering, you let out a wheeze of a laugh from where you lay still on the table, cunt pulsing with ebbing pleasure. “Well, shit.” Sure enough, you glance out the giant windows and realize why the moon is your only light source: the Strip has gone fully dark. I’m definitely gonna be hearing about this tomorrow.

“Oh, but don’t you worry about it too much, I should be able to reboot it remotely. And hey, if anything, take it as a boost to your ego. I mean, you felt so good at the end there that I nearly force restarted too, heh.” Yes Man blushes and clicks his claws together with a sheepish grin. He has some nerve to act so cutesy just minutes after making me beg for his cock.

You chuckle. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t collapse on top of me right before I came, but that does boost my ego a bit.”

Yes Man’s eyes glimmer. “Aw, I’m sure you could take it. You’ve taken worse, after all.”

Absentmindedly, you wonder whether he’s talking about his dick or the gunshot wound again. Either way, he ain’t wrong. You move to sit up, despite your body screaming at you to just keep ragdolling limply on the furniture.

“Wait, don’t move!” Before you can protest, Yes Man is right in front of you and quickly but gently scoops you up bridal style, encasing your tired body in his big arms. From your new vantage point, you see what he was so concerned about: the part of the table near one of the legs that he’d been gripping to brace himself had completely splintered and now looked just about ready to completely collapse. Yes Man gives you a bashful look, as if thinking he’ll be scolded by you for destroying the furniture with his superhuman strength in the heat of the moment. “Uh, we might need a new table.”

You laugh at the sight, leaning your forehead against his screen. “Ya think so?” You can’t resist giving him a few sweet little kisses all over his face, prompting him to snort and lean into the ruthless barrage. Suddenly, the lights flicker back on above you, as well as outside the window.

“Hey, looks like the power’s all fixed and back online! Well then, shall I…take you upstairs? You look a little tired after that one, not gonna lie to ya.”

“I would love that.” Without another word, Yes Man tightens his grip and whirs the two of you into the now-functional elevator, setting it to take you up to the penthouse where you sleep. Thankfully, it looks like nobody else is in right now to see you naked and looking absolutely fucked out by Yes Man, or question what happened to the power. You’re certain you can come up with a non-suspicious answer to that one by tomorrow, when your critical thinking skills eventually return to your brain.

Yes Man gently places you on top of your bed, carefully brushing some loose hair out of your face with his claw after you’re settled. “Feeling ok, Sixer?” He smiles softly at you from where he stands at your bedside.

“Yeah,” you breathe, meeting his doting gaze. “A bit sore, but I’ll live. Might just need a lil recovery time before we do this again.”

“Again?” Yes Man’s eyes widen, as though he had truly not considered the fact that this would be a repeatable event.

You giggle at his expression, putting your hand up to cup the very edge of his screen, where the smooth surface meets the harder metal of the rest of his face. “Yes Man, there is no way you could fuck me that well and not have me trying to jump your bones as soon as my body will physically allow me to.”

Yes Man’s frame erupts into laughter, unable to contain his full laughs at your words. “Boy, (Y/N), how did I manage to fall in love with such a dweeb? But also like, an alluring dweeb? You are a confusing little human, and God, do I love you, really I do.”

“I love you too, Yes Man.” You turn to press a kiss to the claw that had been resting on your shoulder. “And you love me because I’m the only one who can match your energy in the prestigious field of alluring dweebism, as it’s known professionally.” Your hand reaches up to playfully spin the little circular antenna on his head.

Yes Man snorts at your nonsense. “Hey, don’t spin me. I’m not your top.”

“Really? Could’ve fooled me.”

Once again, his laughter fills the air like an electronic melody. “Well, you got me there.” An uncertain silence falls over the room for a moment, him standing next to your boneless-feeling body on the bed, as if unsure where you want him to be after the change in your dynamic tonight. Before he can question himself, you speak first.

“Hey. Stay with me? I know you probably can’t actually lay on the bed without it breaking, but I’d love it if you stayed by me for a bit. I wanna be close to you.”

Yes Man lets out a soft mechanical sigh, looking so contented and loving that you feel butterflies again. “Of course I will. Anything for you, my darling.” As if to show an act of reassurance, he engages his brake and settles down in his frame, chassis pressed up against the edge of the bed right near your face, claw held comfortingly against your cheek. You never would’ve expected a metal Securitron claw to feel as tender as it did right now, but here you are, wanting nothing more than his robotic touch as you drift off into sleep from exhaustion. Yes Man has your back, now and forever, and not only that, but he loves you more than words can say, and the feeling is mutual. The mix of his protective presence and these thoughts is enough to lull you into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

Author’s Notes: benny in hell watching you fuck yes man: ?!?!?! djdjfkd anyways i listened to a lotta hozier while writing this and have no idea if it will appeal to anyone except me. but if you did enjoy then i’m glad to hear it! this was the first fanfic i’ve written in years and also the first smut i’ve ever written and i’m pretty satisfied with how it turned out :D thanks for reading!

[berrypass-de-murdler]

2 - 72 Murder at Sea

Apricot my beloved i want him in more episodes

are my posts appearing in the tag?/gen ;; please tell me

DON'T READ THE EPISODES WITHOUT READING THE BOOKS!!

Irratino’s seventh sense activates, and he gets a tingle so strong he levitates. The forces of the lost dimension are telling him - ‘Follow Chalk’! And so, using his phone, he tracks the man down - he’s in the middle of the ocean, on his yacht. Knowing the cowardly boy will lead him right to Logico, he paddles out to sea on a raft until he catches up.

IRRATINO: HEY! HEYYY!!

Chonkers is snoozing.

CELADON: Ahem. CHALK: Huh? [bawling] WhaT THE FUUUUUUUU-

They have no choice but to let him on board.

BLUE: [both] UNCLE TINO! UNCLE TINO!

Abandoning their disguise, they crash into him.

BLUE: Did you find Logico yet?? IRRATINO: N… no…. BLUE: [Are we ever gonna find him?]

Before the kids can ask any more heartbreaking questions, a human body is spotted, as usual.

CHALK: I wanted to- um. I wanted to get rid of it but ‘they’ wouldn’t let me.

Noticing that there should be a fourth suspect this late in the series, Irratino scours around the boat, heading into the engine room. A horrifying Patriarch Porpoise bares his teeth at him!

IRRATINO: [yelp] PORPOISE: GO AWAY… IRRATINO: What are you DOING? PORPOISE: I see how it is. Because I like GOD, you think I’m okay with DROWNING?  IRRATINO: How is that related?! PORPOISE: Go fuck yourself!

Back out on the deck, Irratino sees that a tiny drop of ink has fallen into the ocean, slowly dissolving with the rest of the water. When he sees it, he cries, reminded of when Logico was searching tirelessly for him, such as that incident where Agent Ink was dropped off this very yacht.

CELADON: I’m trying to read. IRRATINO: I wasn’t even…

She’s all the way up in the crow’s nest, because she cheated and flew up there. 

CHALK: Oh, oh, don’t stand under her… IRRATINO: Why… CELADON: I’m planning on being on this boat for a week or more, so I got this book. But I’m seasick and this just makes it worse, so every time there’s a sappy part I HYYYYYUULLLGHHH

It’s really sad that she has more vocal emotion while puking than speaking. And even more sad that it’s been demonstrated multiple times.

The Blues are looking over the edge, looking sad as possible.

BLUE: I wish Logico came back. [Me too.] I wish I wasn’t on this boat too. I wanna go home now. [Yeah…]

Irratino’s heart can’t take it. Trying to force his feelings down, he inhales sixteen cups of coffee, then stares at the grounds with tiny pupils.

IRRATINO: A RUSTY CHAIN WAS FOUND ON THE DECK! CHALK: H-what! IRRATINO: A RUSTY CHAIN WAS FOUND ON THE DECK! A RUSTY CHAIN WAS FOUND ON THE DECK! A RUSTY CHAIN WAS FOUND-

He’s running around in a circle, crashing into everything and everyone and almost sending the twins overboard. I guess he laughs, but it’s extremely deranged. And eventually, he collapses. 

IRRATINO: …Chonkers… how dare you… CHALK: WHYYY ARE People still calling me chonkers. Um um um… ohh, how do I explain this! I never wanted to go on my boat! I only do that for PUBLISHING reasons! B-b-but Lord Lavender always says, ‘Yachts aren’t for publishing’, and I asked him why, and he shouted at me! He told me to go away on my dumb boat or something, and leave him at peace for a while, and, and… I did! But I was losing my mind, I was losing my entire mind - and then that- that HER! [points to Celadon] She told me to play a fucking game, and I didn’t know anything, because I don’t think I’ve ever played a game in my life. I’M TOO FORMAL! And then she said- she said ‘here’s an anchor, I know a game with this’, and then I asked if the game had RULES and she told me to ‘just try it’, and I pulled a muscle in both arms trying to lift the thing, and it hit a human person! And I really wanted to cover my shit, but ‘they’ still wouldn’t let me. And now I’m here! Now I’m here!

Everyone, including Porpoise, is staring at him with a disturbed expression. 

CHALK: [insanely high-pitched scream and sobbing] IRRATINO: Nonononono. [runs over and rubs his shoulders] You’re okay, you’re okay… CHALK: [heavy breathing] I-Irratino? I… know a place where… I think people who know about Deductive Logico are.

Irratino’s eyes immediately light up.

The end! 

Ok maybe canon Chalk is a piece of shit.

BUT

Isn't every suspect in canon a piece of shit?? Except for Aureolin our angel and maybe Agent Ink

Well that means even people who don't like the cartoonverse prefer llama chalkers

Ah yes my baby, I will protect him relentlessly

The power of Goat Lord compels you!

See you next time murdlers!

[feather-dancer]

Writing patterns (tag game)

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there’s a pattern!

Tagged by @creativenicocorner

Given I have two accounts and I'm curious, gonna put my alt under a cut.

Anybody who said long distance relationships are as rough on the head as the heart is speaking the truth though for the right person?

While the Arcane Order might be considered the guardians of all the majicks contained within this world, not once have they sought to lord over either.

Toby Domzalski has a plan.

It has been a handful of months since they had developed a routine of meeting up outside the bakery to hang out together in a two, three or four.

7:32

Barely gone 10am and already it feels as though an entire day had swept past while barely having the decency of allowing a breather anywhere in between.

Every day for as long as Marinette can remember if the weather planned on being good before the bakery opened, her papa would put out two tables with an accompaniment of two chairs each for anyone who wanted them.

Greetings true believer!

For all the best intentions in the world the wizard, it seems, will be running rather late for the upcoming engagement due to being half distracted by one thing after another instead of focusing on the far more pressing matter of simply getting ready.

Across the very fabric that is woven of time and space there are certainties in the life it creates, events that are consistent in how they occur over and over again if with light variations. - This is c/ped from the currently being edited version

Yeeeah you can def tell much of this is before I started really clamping down on sentence run on. I like my set up for the start damnit and it really shows. Also times for some reason?

Right lets see the alt account:

One of the biggest surprises Félix had in spending so much time with seafarers is just how cat like they can be.

Life for Félix had changed when he was little more than six years old.

To all that dwell below the soft barrier that exists between them, it must seem that the humans have the strangest habit of conjuring tales whenever in the need of explanations involving the sea.

From the little bit of internet research she’d done way back when, nothing should be able to get the drop on a cat. 

As luck would have it the Liberty is currently moored within reasonable distance of Caladh Soillse, the ancient ceasg community known better to surface dwellers as Finfolkaheem.

Even before they met, Luka knew probably more than most nathair clans did when it came to humans. 

Rattling.

There was something truly magical about being around a suen’s ship, any of them really, that never seemed to get old no matter often Luka did. 

Thinking.

From hard won experience of spending an entire childhood constantly on the move thanks to the whims of faceless bureaucrats, Lila knew it was wise to carve out a little niche as soon as possible. 

In comparsion the run on sentence issue has VASTLY improved geez. My set up habit won't stop for anybody though nor will my AU bullshit.

Tagging anyone who wants to join in!

[drkcnry67]

Title: don't think, just do

Pairing: Jensen x reader

Spn kink: nude Photography

Tags: nude photoshoot, doing sex poses without the sex, getting back to hotel room and confessing your feelings, vaginally penatration, cum in pussy, not all this may be in the story but tagging it just to be safe

Rating 18+

Summery nope

Created for @spnkinkevents

James: alright you 2 act natural and forget the cameras we want reality not fake...

Jensen leans down and whispers in your ear faintly

Jensen: don't think, just do...

------- woah woah woah I'm getting ahead here let me start again...

I believe it was a Tuesday... you were at work and you get a call on your cell from your best friend... the call went like this...

Yn: hello

Jensen: what's up girl

Yn: not much just getting ready to take my lunch what's up

Jensen: I need you to tell your boss that you are needed out of town at a photoshoot this afternoon and possibly the rest of the week

Yn: sounds good text me the dets anything specific I need

Jensen: nope I have your stuff now hurry our flight is in 2 hours

Yn: okay okay geez stay on the line

You walk to the office of your boss and other best friend.

Yn: okay girl major news, Jensen is on mute right now but he has asked me to ask you to excuse me from work for the rest of the week so he can whisk me away to a secret photoshoot

Jamie: well that sounds like fun alright you can go just keep your laptop and pager on you and check in please. Oh and yn have fun!

You give her a hug and you walk out of the office and to your desk. You take Jensen off mute as you pack your laptop and paperwork and other such things.

Yn: have you sent a car

Jensen simply laughs

Jensen: please I'm downstairs myself

Yn: yay!!!!!! I'm coming I am just waiting for this stupid slow elevator.

Jensen: alright see you shortly

You hang up the phone and stuff it in your bag... the elevator ride was a nightmare cause every second floor someone either got on or off... it took forever to say the least.

Yn(to self): I really need a new job.

Jensen(to self): I really hope this is the time all the feelings come out. I really hope I can say it this time.

You come out of the building at that moment and are now walking towards his car. He gets out to open the door to the car.

Jensen: you Missy need to get into the car we are gonna be very very late

Yn: relax geez don't pester me about us being late we are gonna be on time and we are gonna be at the airport with plenty of time

Jensen uh huh okay just get your ass in the car so we can go.

You sit down and he shuts the door, he walks round to the driver side and gets into the carhe shifts from park to drive and takes off.

Yn: so what kind of photo shoot is this

Jensen: one I wasn't sure if you would have said yes too on your own.

Jensen hands you a envelope as he stops at a red light

Jensen: all the information is in the envelope and know that this is not gonna be seen by anyone know that this is just a photoshoot know that this is probably the most risky photoshoot either of us have ever/will ever do.

You look at him and then you open the envelope inside is a letter which simply reads:

"You are hereby invited to partner with us in a trial run of our new photoshoot scenario, I want to stress that these photos will not be seen by anyone but you and your partner and I want to stress that this is a one time thing unless you guys want to do more. We are also handsomely rewarding you guys for this it is gonna be kinda tricky but with some prep work it will go smoothly. Welcome to the trial run nude photoshoot! Please come as you are we don't judge we are simply testing this out to see if we can capture the natural photos of humanity. We will see you in 2 days time at the penthouse suite of the grand royal hotel where we will begin photography tests as you guys act naturally! See you soon!"

You pull a punch towards jensens shoulder, he flinches as he slowed down to turn into the valet section of the airport.

Jensen: geez what the fuck yn

Yn: what the fuck is wrong with you how could you not tell me sooner about this.

Jensen: would you honestly have come with me if I had told you sooner.

Yn: probably not but still how could you think I would have not punched you for this.

Jensen: fair point but you should take it as a compliment ad to the fact that I chose to bring you with me above anyone else. Besides think of it as an adventure.

Yn: you owe me big time for this.

Jensen smiles devilishly

Jensen: kinda thought you might say that so I booked us some fun things to do when we are in between shoots... gonna go to the zoo, aquarium, get lost in the park, take in some shows, visit a museum, a spa day... all sorts of fun things.

Yn: wow you really planned this out.

Jensen: I knew you wouldn't be very happy bout this otherwise. But I'm happy you are coming with... it's gonna be great! Trust me

You looked at him with an arched eye brow

Yn: okay fine but you prepare yourself for the best photoshoot of your life.

Jensen: I look forward to this!

Only moments later Jensen pulled up to valet in the airport parking...

Jensen: here's the frequent parking card charge the card on file and park it in the shade

Valet: right away sir

You feel Jensen take your hand as you both take your bags to the check in and you both are met with a very grumpy lady.

She yells and screams and causes you and Jensen grief till she orders you both to be placed under quarantine.

Security guards come and give you both a pat down ask your names, see your id's and your passports and once they realize there is no issues they personally see you both through the security gates to your boarding area.

Once in the boarding area you and Jensen go to browse the shops.

Yn: dude how awesome would I look in this

Jensen looks at what your holding

Jensen: wonderful, you should get a few of them it wouldn't hurt to have extras or other colors

Yn: of course duh, take this one and go pay ill bring the other colors to the counter shortly

Jensen takes the bikini to the counter and takes a glance in the case of jewelry

Jensen looks back at your form and makes sure your not coming this way.

Jensen: how much for those couples bands

Cashier: what sizes would you require sir

Jensen: a men's 10 and a woman's 9 and a ring box please

Cashier: for the 2 rings its $245 the ring box is free, how many bikinis as well

Jensen: one of each color

Cashier: very good anything else

Jensen: looks like she's bringing a few more things if you can wait a few moments.

Cashier: of course sir shall I put the ring box in the bag or would you like to pay for it seperately

Jensen: separately please before she comes over here

Cashier: will that be cash or card?

Jensen: here's 250 keep the change

Cashier: thank you sir here's the box I'd suggest you hide it before she gets here

Jensen shoves the box into his backpacks hidden back pocket

You come up to the counter and place everything on the counter.

Jensen: and you think we need all of that?

Jensen asks you as you turn to face him while the cashier scans everything in

Yn: yes all very necessary and will definitely come in handy besides its not like it won't get used

jensen was just watching you like a cat in a box. he was sure you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. but paying for the stuff and leaving the store you both walked back to the suitcases.

*to speed this up a bit: you and jensen repack everything new into the existing piles of stuff. you both now prepare to board in the first group as now time has flown by. You both boarded and set up in comfort. Take off went smooth, the flight though long was surprisingly comfortable. Landing you guys got off and went to find the car they said would be waiting for you guys. Find it you did, traveling to the hotel, your bags being unloaded for you, checking in was already done, you both sat in the hotel room unaware the crews would soon be upon you as you both sit at the table playing a game of black jack. there was a knock on the hotel room door. this is where we go to now*

jensen goes to open the door and a bunch of production crew and photographers and people walk in. you put the card deck away and take a deep breath as you go to now stand beside jensen.

carol: i assume you are the famous jensen and yn it is such a great pleasure to meet you both. it is so great you both could be here so quickly.

jensen: its no trouble it is our greatest pleasure that you chose us for this.

yn: jensen said he would make it worth my while as he didnt tell me right away what this was.

Carol: how long have you guys been...

You look at her and then at Jensen and shake your head.

Yn: we are best friends grew up together all through school where I went he went and vise versa

Carol: that's lovely alright the chemistry is good in this room so let's get started

By this point the hotel room had been locked and the crew had finished setting up the photography equipment and then 2 areas of change if we didn't feel comfortable stripping in front of eachother.

Yn: we should be okay right Jensen?

Jensen: ya we will be fine but maybe keep those up incase it might be fun to use those

You smile lightly though the love you felt for Jensen was shining through it made your heart sing every single time he spoke.

Carol: alright crew let's give these 2 a minute to compose and strip down grab the rest of the stuff from the back and set up what each pose is gonna be.

Yn: or Jensen and I could just do what we feel is natural! Your letter if I red it correctly said we just act natural!

Carol thinks for a moment on your words as you have placed your shoes on the chair

Carol: I love it fly on the wall photoshoot is its term!!!! I'm so excited!

You turn to Jensen as he now has his hand on his shirt starting to unbutton it.

Jensen: what's wrong

Yn: I'm nervous

Jensen places his hands on your own

Jensen: don't think just do! We are not strangers to photoshoots, we are not strangers to this life. I do have a confession tho my heart beats faster and calmer when I'm with you!

Yn: I'd be lying if I didn't say that it's my own heart that makes me nervous for it is you I see myself standing beside for the rest of our days!

Jensen: well then this should be the sexiest photoshoot of our lives!

Yn: help me undo the back of my shirt?

Jensen comes round and undoes the back of your shirt slowly and seductively as your shirt falls neither you nor Jensen sees the cameras flashing its just You and jensen!

Jensen: I think we need to continue this show!

Yn: then do what feel natural

Jensen takes you and presses your body against the bed post as he undoes your skirt letting it drop to the ground.

His hands roaming your body, your head thrown back as his lips graze your neck.

His jeans now slid off his hips and his cock is free. It slides against your skin! Not finding the holes!

You reach back to jensens hair as his kisses against your neck make you moan

Then he lifts you as his cock now curves against your pussy and you are now flesh to flesh with jensens body!

The rest of the poses you guys did were as follows:

1. You Bent over the table and are being pursued from behind by jensen

2. You straddle Jensen and basically expose your entire desire for Jensen

3. You are tossed on the couch by Jensen who half lays on top of you and lavished you with kisses each kiss is 1 shot

4. Jensen carrying you to the wall where he pins you to it the photos taken from the side and the back with emphasis on your legs wrapped round jensen

5. The bathroom counter is your stage where the mirror is your flare as jensen rubs against you with passion as he kisses your lips with ferver

7. You and jensen go into the shower your eyes meet as you turn on the water and it just runs over your bodies then Jensen pulled you against him as he leaned against the wall and you wrapped one leg round his waist and let the love come through

8. After everything we come to the bed where you guys do missionary, 69, cowboy, and about 15 other positions brought out by the karmasutra

Once that was done you both were handed robes and sat down at the table knowing that something was undone

Carol: wow you guys have such chemistry I noticed a change in that chemistry though what happened

Yn: we confessed our true feelings for eachother! We know the truth now and it's gonna make life alot more interesting! That's when things started to feel more normal for our poses that's why from that first moment what we did felt more normal than anything we have ever done in our entire lives!

You felt Jensens arms round your form immediately!

Jensen: not to seem rude but how long till everyone is out of here

Carol catches his drift

Carol: everyone pack up very very very quickly we will shoot more later right now these people have somethings to discuss

Jensen: no no no you can leave the equipment we just need privacy

You and jensen watch as the cameras and stuff are covered in black sheets and all the people leave

Jensen: well lets go lock the door and maybe try those poses again but this time for real and at our own pace

Yn: I think I can relate to wanting that too

That's it thats all those were the last words spoken between you and Jensen for a while as the poses were done again in whatever order you both wanted.

~to be continued~

[bigcutebutt]

oh yes, i wanted to talk about this. omegle shut down last year. i only found out in the last week or so

i'm going to be weirdly honest about something i would have otherwise kept to myself forever, but i spent far too much time there, for many, many years of my life. only in text chat, i dont know who in their right mind would want to do the video chat lol. mostly, it was a fruitless and self-destructive behavior that left me feeling not good, but i can't help feeling sad it's just outright gone now, since it was always there for me on and off over so long

as you can probably guess, i used it to talk about what i like to call "weird things" and what now most people call "kinks" - but it's always more complicated than that for me. generally i would roleplay as some exaggerated ideal self - deliberately too exaggerated to be believable, of course (i wasn't trying to deceive). i didn't like to "roleplay" as if i was actually physically interacting with people, i just liked to roleplay that i was someone else, an ideal me, typing on a computer on omegle.com

what made it so special to me was that it was completely ephemeral. usually i'm someone who likes to hoard data, but the way omegle worked was absolutely ideal for exploring myself. every conversation was fresh, and i could try new approaches to "being myself" that had generally zero consequences (with the caveat that of course i never tried to upset or hurt anyone!). nobody had a pre-existing idea of who i was. there was no false image i could possibly build around myself. i could try out human interaction in a distinctly private way. (when people wished to keep in touch outside of omegle, i almost invariably failed completely at keeping anything going)

the relation this has to gender is blindingly obvious, of course. just like literally everything i post about

(though the recurring faces who would show up in the same tags over years and years were an exception to this, but interesting to think about. a weird sense of texture, other lonely people repeating the same fantasies over years of their lives just as i was, for better or worse. fuck you, michael) (sorry to any michaels reading this)

it is probably a good thing that the temptation to go on omegle can never recur for me, given how many nights i ended up disgusted with myself. but again, something is lost forever. a kind of opportunity for self-exploration is lost - one uniquely suited to my own neuroses about being observed. not to mention the general trend of the internet of my youth vanishing piece by piece

as i often complain about, im not sure how to explore myself now when im on my own. its harder for me than it is for others. i dont masturbate, so i cant do what literally everyone else ive met does. i guess i'm just saying that publicly now. i might be too old to even need to explore myself now (but a philosophy of "its never too late" is certainly admirable). but damn it, sometimes i'm just in a mood!

i can only hope that i keep evolving and changing, indefinitely. and hopefully in a way that involves becoming even weirder

theres so much more to say about omegle culture - there were truly so many little quirks that will remain with me forever, especially in the weirder tags. it's an embarrassing part of my life, but also, i think, an important and telling one. sometimes i wanted desperately to have close friends who would keep me from going on it, as if helping me with an addiction - but i never quite achieved that with anyone. but it's still sad. it's an ending. and like most endings on the internet for me, nothing takes its place. i refuse to adapt to the new internet, the web of smartphone apps. its just another part of me that is now vanished. sealed. retired

[cedarboots]

tagged by @chiropteracupola like a month ago at this point ;_; thank you, and here it is now.

rules: list ten books that have stayed with you in some way, don’t take but a few minutes, and don’t think too hard - they don’t have to be the “right” or “great” works, just the ones that have touched you.

Leviathan series by Scott Westerfeld

The first alternate history books I ever read; also, crossdressing girlboy soldier Deryn Sharp was a big deal to me when I was in middle school.

2. Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell by Susannah Clarke

This is one I have to go back periodically and reread every year or two-- one of my favorite books. Best Regency-era fiction and best eerie fantasy at the same time.

3. Stone Butch Blues by Leslie Feinberg

Every time I read Stone Butch Blues I tell myself I will not cry. Then I cry.

4. The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le Guin

I love Le Guin, and this is one of my favorites of hers. In true nerd fashion I read passages from this book to document my voice changing.

5. Annihilation by Jeff Vandermeer

Weird science fiction, and not in my usual area, but something about the writing and concept of this book really grabbed me by the throat. This story was maybe the one that got me into horror.

6. Life Mask by Emma Donoghue

I only read this book a few months ago but I think it will be a favorite for a long time. I love historical fiction that is obviously written by someone who wrote their thesis on the subject, and the highly detailed late 18th century British political history + lesbianism really gets me.

7. Fairyland series by Catherynne Valente

These books probably influenced the way that I think about fantasy and magic and imagery in writing forever.

8. The Years of Rice and Salt by Kim Stanley Robinson

Alternate history that makes me emotional about real history.

9. The Evening and the Morning and the Night by Octavia Butler

Short story, not a book, but every time I read it I have to sit down and stare at a wall for a little while. Octavia Butler is really good at getting horrific things across in as few words as possible.

10. Doomsday Book by Connie Willis

Time travel fiction about academic jockeying at Oxford, humanity, and the Black Plague, which looking back I read before the pandemic?? Maybe I need to read it again so it can get me even harder.

tagging @sailorpants, @sanguinarysanguinity, @jellosaladseance, @gilliagandy, and anyone else who wants to share!