#all this cake and i'm supposed to think about something else...

[maladaptivedaydreamhq]

fortiche know EXACTLY what they're doing to us i fear

[here-there-were-dragons]

as a general rule, on average, if americans consistently complain about a food being conceptually weird, gross, and scary, then it probably tastes amazing. or at least inoffensive.

this is because in my experience americans for the most part (give or take a few exceptions by region) think eating literally anything other than beef, chicken, bread, eggs, peanut butter jelly sandwitches, ketchup, and disgusting cloyingly artificial brown sludge soda is insurmountably weird, gross, and scary.

[lixies-favorite-cookie]

𝐬𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧' 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧・l.m

—there were two things in the world that challenged your intellectual ability one: AP US History and two: lee minho. what are you going to do when he catches you cheating, and grabs your thigh, forcing you to give him the answers too.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠・minho x reader // 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞𝐬・academic rivals to lovers, sexual tension // 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬・1.5k // 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬・thigh touching, squeezing, and kissing, very slight bruising, cheating on tests, slight language, he gets on his knees, this is lowkey freaky, no actually Minho gets on his knees and kisses your thigh.

𝐚/𝐧・guys i'm kinda shy about this bc it was not supposed to be this freaky, but I had this thought like four months ago and it just kind of...unraveled 🙈 idk how I feel about this I like the idea of it but I feel like it flows weird idk might just be a me problem plus I needed to get it out of my drafts so 😗

If you really think about it—it isn't your fault that the curriculum was impossible to learn, the school board was practically begging you to cheat.

Besides, the whole testing system was pointless anyway. You couldn’t accurately quantify knowledge with a few bubbled answers. And if your teacher hadn’t made this test 40% of your grade, you might’ve actually been able to understand. But no— the stress alone had made sure of that.

For a second, you naively convince yourself you actually have a chance. Then you read the first question—and realize you're royally fucked.

It isn’t just one thing; no, the universe spreads a thick layer of icing all over your 'I’m fucked' cake, because not only is the test 100 questions of pure agony, but you’re sitting next to none other than Lee Minho—Yale's wet dream and your life long rival.

He shifts beside you, bubbling in the answers with infuriating ease. It was enraging—how calm he was, how even though his eyes were trained on the paper in front of him, it still felt like he was making calculated moves against you.

You grind your teeth, reading and rereading the questions until you go cross-eyed. It just didn't make sense. Why were there so many dates? Who were all these people? Why couldn't you seem to remember anything? The ink on your thigh screams at you, itching to pull up your skirt and color all the correct answers.

It was stupid, completely idiotic to even consider giving in to the temptation, but you had no other choice. You couldn't fail this test. You steal a glance at Minho, making sure he’s still peacefully, obnoxiously distracted with being perfect, before sliding your skirt up to reveal the answer key you wrote last night. With a deep breath, you fill in the correct answers, stealing paranoid glances at the teacher every other question.

You're almost done. Just a few more. But then—a tingle runs down your spine.

You could practically taste the smirk on his face the minute his gaze lands on your thighs. You stiffen, holding your breath as if that might magically make you disappear. Unfortunately, your efforts are to no avail.

Minho must have been waiting for a moment like this for years—a classic got'ya moment. It was perfect, practically presented to him on a silver platter. You clench your eyelids and except the worst, for him to stand up and announce to the class your humiliating defeat, to strut up to the teacher and flush your entire life away.

And yet, the moment passes by. His gaze never wavers, instead it gets heavier—needier, fire licking up your spine. You can feel the heat of his breath fanning across your cheek as he leans in—so close, too close.

"Is that what I think it is?" That cocky little bend in his lips grows as he watches you fumble to yank the skirt back down, shooting him a nasty side-eye.

"No," you say steadily—almost convincing yourself.

"No?" His voice is low, laced with amusement, but there's something else there, something strained. "Then let me see."

"No." You scoff, pulling your leg away from him. He presses his tongue against his cheek, both frustrated and annoyed.

"So fuckin’ stubborn." His voice drops, and suddenly, the space between you vanishes. His fingers capture your thigh, prying them apart with a hot, deliberate pressure. Your breath hitches—the heat of his palm seeping into your flesh, spreading up, up, up.

You want to gasp, to smack his hand away, and scream bloody murder; but the other part of you, the other small microscopic part of you relishes in his touch—leaving you dizzy and breathless.

His hand never moves, even as he copies the answers down—his fingers a steady pressure against your soft flesh. You hate the way your pulse betrays you, hammering against your ribs like thunder.

You twitch—just enough for him to notice, just enough for him to squeeze hard. You fight not to gasp, your stomach twisting with something you don’t dare name. He doesn’t say another word. He doesn’t have to. You feel it.

Don’t you dare move.

You don't breathe—not until he's already finished the work, releasing your thigh and walking up to the teacher; sliding his test into the professor's hands with an infuriatingly perfect smile. The teacher returns his smile ten times brighter, both pleased and impressed, bowing politely to dismiss him back.

It takes five seconds before your brain catches up with your body, jaw dropping in utter disbelief—Minho was the first one to turn in his test, making him the first to get a perfect score, therefore putting him slightly above your soon-to-be perfect score—which means he beat you.

"What the hell was that?" you spit. Minho doesn’t spare you a glance as he slips back into his seat, swiveling around with a smirk on his face and his tongue in his cheek.

"What, 'that,' are we talking about? My undeniable victory, or how slow this class is?" Minho muses, throwing his feet onto the desk, and tipping his chair back as if the whole scheme was a piece of cake. You were ready to punch him square in his freakishly perfect jaw.

"You are unbelievable—" You don’t get to finish your scornful sentence before the bell rings. The class erupts from their seats, filing to the front. There was so much you wanted to do, but you couldn’t—your hands were tied, tight, painfully behind your back. So instead, you do the only thing you can: turn in that stupid test.

When you get back to your desk, you find Minho leaning against his, a cocky smirk still playing on his pretty pink lips.

"Oh, you're just loving this, aren't you?" you spit venomously, stuffing supplies back into your bag with a little extra vigor. Minho cocks his head, standing up a little straighter. "Loving beating you? Yeah, you could say that."

You scoff, rolling your eyes. "You couldn’t have done it without the answers I wrote on my thigh." At the mention of your thigh, Minho’s gaze tilts downward. His entire demeanor transforms—once cocky and proud, now washed away in an instant—something softer taking its place, something you couldn’t quite place.

Gently, disarmingly, Minho brings his palm to your waist, guiding you to sit on one of the desks behind you. "What—" you begin, but he beats you to it, asking, "Did I do this?" Confused, you look down at the mark in question—darkened fingerprints ghosting over your skin where his fingers had pressed a little too hard.

You swallow. "I didn't notice it."

"Does it hurt?" he frowns, gingerly brushing the bruise forming on your thigh. His voice is uncharacteristically soft, almost as if he's actually concerned about your well-being.

"Yeah, kind of," you wince, but you don't move from his soft touch. His lips press into a thin line, the slight furrow of his brows deepening with guilt.

"What, you wanna kiss it, make it feel better?" you joke, a weak attempt to ease the tension. He pauses for a moment, then, in one swift motion, drops to his knees before you.

You gasp, a quick, trembling breath that melts the words in your throat. His eyes stay locked on yours, the weight of his gaze heavy as he inches closer, mouth nearing your thigh. You hold your breath, heart hammering against your ribs. He takes his time—two agonizing seconds stretching into hours. His breath is hot against your skin, before his lips finally brush the bruise, leaving a gentle kiss in its wake.

"There, all better," he says, standing back up and slinging his backpack over his shoulder, nonchalantly. He doesn't say another word, simply waltzing out the door like he didn't just leave you a spaghetti noodle, all slippery thoughts and wobbly limbs.

You stand there, jaw in the center of the earth, gripping the edge of the desk so hard it threatened to crack. The class had filed out ages ago, leaving you to regather your thoughts in sweet silence.

You still feel his lips, hot and gentle, against the flesh of your thigh—reliving the moment over and over and over again. You couldn't bear to look at him, weeks into the future, still dizzy and disoriented, struggling to focus with him so close beside you. Minho knew, no matter how much you hated that thought. Minho knew, he saw how your grades started slipping, how slowly your comebacks started getting shorter, sweeter, a little bit more flirtatious.

That was his plan the entire time; because, even on his knees—Minho held all the pieces.

cookie owns this. thank you.

RAAAA its been a hot minute since I've posted something but I hope you liked this (if you did seriously consider reblogging with tags it helps my motivation and self-esteem so so soooo much.

[obeymeluv]

In Your Defense [PT 1 - Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw]

You decide to work at Sam's for Valentine's Day and your crush just happens to hear a customer hitting on you. If they get arrested, can you be their alibi? AKA: This person has a death wish and you find out your crush might be jealous?

Note: Each one is random and some will be longer than others. If I made everyone the same length this thing would be MASSIVE and I would probably die.

Not proofread because of the length. Trying to get everyone done today. It's my last day off for a few.

Whatever part Ortho is in will be platonic, obvs.

Happy V-day!

Riddle likes to think he's made great strides not being angry but hearing some utterly disgusting joke about 'how much do you cost?' sends him like nothing else ever has. This guy is tall and so unimpressive, so plain, so average that Riddle can't really recall him at all. Maybe that's just the absolute fury blurring his vision. He knows he's not breathing but his chest isn't burning near as much as his face; the heat is spreading quick and he can feel it in his cheeks and neck. Temples pounding, his vaguely aware of the growl bubbling in his chest as it threatens to slip past his clenched teeth.

Ace calls it his teapot snarl.

Before Riddle knows it, he's flown off the handle and he's going off on a rant. The whole shop is quiet, people physically backing away as he just methodically unravels everything about this cretin from outfit, posture, presence, delivery, unoriginality--everything. Honestly, he doesn't even remember everything he said. The redhead doesn't even tune back into the sound of his own voice until he ends the onslaught with, "You've just paid twenty thaumarks to embarrass yourself but that pales in comparison to the fact that you thought you had a chance with them. You should be ashamed!"

The man slinks away, sad little bag dragging off the counter.

Whispers and giggles diffuse throughout the shop. He ignores the looks that come his way, using the time to come back to himself. Riddle fixes his cute casual clothes, content with the fact you picked them out together. He catches sight of the matching rose clips on your outfit and in you hair and smiles softly. "A strawberry cookie and a cake pop, please." he clears his throat, fishing his wallet out of his pocket.

Sam had an assortment of sweets and he was going to capitalize on strawberry's popularity while he could. He saw you root through the display case, carefully considering the designs even though they were all supposed to taste the same (allegedly).

"Sure thing. Your total is 12 thaumarks. Thanks for stopping by Sam's Mystery Shop! Happy Valentine's Day!"

He hands you the thaumarks as you take the time to slide the I LOVE YOU cookie in his bag.

----

Deuce is an honors student! He is a good boy that's going to make his mother proud!

HE IS SO GOING TO PUNCH THIS MOTHERFUCKER IN THIS FACE!

His shoulders tense, fist clenching at his side. "Why, you think they're cheap? Something to be bought? What an insult!" his head snaps up as he stares down the slightly taller boy. Deuce's teal eyes turn a dark turquoise; the giddy glint of seeing you and chocolate eggs in one place turns to something sharp and steely. He hands the chocolate eggs to Ace, turning right back around to stare the creep down. Old habits die hard; he's grinding a fist into his hand.

"Aren't you the guy always complaining about limited time sales being unfair? Not my problem you missed the window." the guy scoffs, leaning back against the cashier counter. "Anyways," the guy tilts his head back and starts talking to you.

You look uncomfortable and angry that you can't handle this yourself. Professionalism and all.

"You may have caught the window but I'm about to show you the door." Deuce draws up on him with a quickness people have never seen. Not many people know about all the fights he used to get into. Gripping the guy's hair almost to the point of pulling it out, steering him like a panicked bull, Deuce all but chucks him out the front door of the shop. He turns around to walk back inside and buy his chocolate eggs but that spine-tingling feeling of someone fixing to take a cheap shot makes him pivot and nail the guy with a solid kick to the chest. The guy falls back on his butt, breath hitching.

Deuce scoffs and wipes his shoes on the step before going into the shop. The door is almost closed behind him when he hears a strained grunt. He's been in enough fights to know the guy is off the ground and making one last attempt to catch him from the back. More than done with this and just wanting his damn eggs and to say hi to you in all your festive lace, he shoulder checks the door like he's trying to shove Jack out of the lunch line (which he would NEVER, EVER DO).

The guy falls with a satisfying thud and Deuce tries his best to relax his face as he resumes his place in line. It's red from aggravation and the fact he's fishing for his thaumarks because he's forgotten what pocket he put it in. "Sorry about that," he tries to uncrumple the thaumarks a little before handing them to you. "And the face. My face. Not your face! Your face is fine! Like, you're not ugly! I just, uh--"

"Take the change, Deuce-y!" Ace is standing behind him, guiding his nervous body like a puppet. He makes Deuce grab the change and turns him around, shoving him away from the counter before he can make it any worse. "Now help me move this guy's body! He's out cold!"

---

Ace can only laugh when he hears that line. First of all, it's weak. Secondly, the dude must not have any faith in his game if the delivery depends on you being captive behind the counter. During work hours. With an obligation to be forward facing and listening to whatever he says.

"Why? You worried about your budget, buddy?" Ace laughs, hands laced together behind his head.

The guy snaps up, stick-straight. "N-No! I was just--" his face is blooming pink.

"People aren't products, bro. There's no discounts." Ace shakes his head.

"W-What I meant was, I want to take you on a date!" the guy turns back to you and flashes a big smile. All of Ace's pouty mutters fall on deaf ears. Not because he's being quiet, but because the guy is straight up ignoring him. He's not sure where the idea comes from--he'll blame it on an itchy hand--but he sneaks a couple of small candies in the guy's pocket. Sam's familiar top hat bobs into view, snaking around the shelves.

"DON'T FORGET TO PAY FOR THE STUFF IN YOUR POCKETS!" Ace felt confident in his sleight of hand tricks. It wouldn't be the first time he tricked NRC students. It's actually really easy to do. That works in his favor because if everyone can't get their story straight or agree on what they saw, he's a free man.

Sam materializes at the edge of the aisles and seems to stare into the boy's soul. "Young man, please step aside."

Ace looks like the cat that ate the canary as he moseys up to the counter and slaps the box of cherry cordials down. He buys a cherry sucker at the last second, not seeing it at first. "Thanks, Sweets!" Ace winks at you as he strolls out with the bag.

Sam nearly scares him out of his skin, leaning against the wood just outside the door. Ace finally feels the tug of shadows on his feet. "Speaking of sweets," Ace flinches and hides his ear with his blazer, groaning as Sam hooks an arm around his neck and pulls him into his chest sternly. "I understand your frustration, Little Imp. Young love is adorable in all it's wiles! But mark my words, Little Imp: if you lie about wrongdoings in my shop again, you will not come back. Clear?"

"Yes sir." Ace gulps.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Little Imp."

---

Trey isn't really surprised to hear what he just did. 'Boys will be boys', as the saying goes. Frankly, he's disappointed. He's heard smarter things come out of his little brother and sister.

He adjusts his glasses, mentally trying to relax the knot between his eyebrows.

Should he say something? Of course he wants to. It's you! He's been on the other side of the counter plenty of times and has had vivid daydreams of sticking a customer in a stand mixer. But, then again, he has a reputation to uphold and anything he does could reflect back on Riddle.

And send Riddle into a fit, giving him something else to handle.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized he'd have the element of surprise. People--especially men--don't cook enough to know how much arm strength it takes to lift twenty pound bags of flour on the regular. Or the stamina it takes to walk said bags from Sam's shop to Heartslabyul. Even the small five-pound bag of sugar in his basket would suffice as a weapon; the sugar was packed enough to hit like a brick if he lobbed it.

Trey's running the options through his head, almost settling on just saying 'how much for you to stop?' when he sees the end of a sucker rolling between the guy's teeth. Too easy, Trey pushes his glasses up on his nose, hand hiding his smile and the quiet incantation for "Paint the Roses".

All of a sudden the guy is gagging and running for the door. You and everyone else are wondering what the hell just happened. He doesn't come back in. One brave soul suggested he had a really bad gag reflex and the sucker did him in. Only Trey knows it was a mix of sour milk and the pungent soy sauce tart nightmare he tricked Riddle into making once.

"Just this, please. Oh! And what Sam had on hold for me." Trey hands you the sugar, relishing in the brush of your hands.

"Candied violets and a bag of sugar. Twenty thaumarks, please."

"Thanks." Trey smiles at you, laying the sugar flat so his delicate, delectable candied violets don't get crushed.

"Thank you." you smile brightly, handing him the change.

----

Cater wants to gag. Normally Valentine's confessions are cute and IN THE RIGHT SETTING pickup lines are amazing. This? This is a tragedy. Mostly because there is ZERO chemistry and you look #uncomfortable.

He's big on consent since he's always looking for collabs and people to pose with on Magicam so maybe that's why this scene bothers him. Aside from the fact that you're out of this guy's league, obviously. Like, it's really an insult to your time.

'How much do you cost?' Really? You're #priceless.

His brows furrow, lips thinning as he wonders what to do. He plays with the idea of Split Card and creating a small crowd of copies to boo and jeer the guy but the store would be even more packed than it already is. Cater's green eyes twinkle as it hits him. Turning his phone longways, he zooms in on the guy and tells him to keep going because he's live on Magicam. "Don't worry! I've already got all the V-day tags on there! Everyone will see it!"

He's friends with practically everyone at NRC so this guy will be seen by everyone.

Something sick and unfriendly and satisfied swirls in him as the guy's face pales in real time. If he zooms in a little, he can get the beads of sweat in there. "I'll, uh--another time, okay?" the guy darts off and abandons his handful of candy at the register.

"Haul coming later! 'K, bye!" Cater sends a peace sign to the camera, smiling at his own face. He swipes the little chocolates into his basket nonchalantly. He's not even the biggest sweets person but those are his now!

"Gonna have a spicy Valentine's Day, huh?" you ring up the cups of spicy ramen.

"You know it!" he laughs.

"I get it. You have to balance out how sweet you are." you smirk up at him. "Twenty-four thaumarks, please."

#in love. #kiddingnotkidding. #sendhelp. #downbad.

----

Leona doesn't even know why he bothered to show up to Sam's. He could just send Ruggie to get whatever he wanted. The variety of jerky was somewhat tempting but he could just as easily take the bus and get a proper meal off campus. And yet, he stood there with a gloved hand in his pocket, tail swishing back and forth in mild agitation. His green eyes sweep over the winding line until they land on you at the front.

His cheeks warm a little and he scoffs at himself, pretending to pick through the hanging strips of sunflower seeds as the line moves. Every step gets him closer to this soft, powdery scent with just a hint of sweetness. He starts to blame it on all the chocolate and candy and sugary shit exploding out of every possible spot in the store but there's this unmistakable undertone of skin.

Your skin.

He's only caught the scent a million times while hiding from people in the Botanical Gardens. Or when he's forced to attend class, catching a hint of you in the halls.

Leona's not sure why he cares anything about you because you're not magical. You're not interesting.

You shouldn't be, but you are.

You're literally the only person he's ever met from another world. You have no context for the Sunset Savanna or the hierarchy of it. To you, everyone is impressive. He can be something to you.

Why does that matter? He doesn't even know. That's what he tells himself, anyways. You say you have no magic but Leona thinks you can read minds. The look you always give him isn't a pitying one, but a curious one that seeks to dissect him and force him to face everything he keeps shoved deep down inside himself.

Part of him is waiting for the day you pull the right thread and he comes undone in the way he knows he need but can't find the strength for. Somewhere in that knotted mess is his true feelings for you. The stuff he can't admit.

You stand admirably on your own two feet, roughing it out like Ruggie, but you're so far from the intimidating women of the Sunset Savanna. You're approachable and soft; you're built like prey but you have the quick thinking of a predator.

Something in your demeanor changes--your hands pause and flutter nervously--and he's on alert. He's careful to relax his grip lest he crush the box of protein bars for Jack. His ears sling forward and his eyes narrow as he catches that half-baked flirting attempt. Leona doesn't even bother to hide the sneer twisting his face.

Just the thought of you with that hopeful schmuck is nauseating.

Suddenly the scent of all the males around you is overwhelming. Disgusting.

"If you have to ask about the price, you can't afford it. Haven't ya ever heard that before?" Leona 'hmphs' triumphantly, one hand on his hip as he bends down slightly to stare the chump in the face. "Askin' about the price is tacky."

"Wh-what was my total again?"

All Leona had to do was stare at the back of the human's neck. Humans, much like prey animals, grew really squirmy when a predator stared at them too long. Or encroached on their space, much like he was doing. It was for the hell of it at this point.

Leona made a mental note of the guy's face as he scampered off like a terrified cub and looked forward to the day he could send a stray spelldrive disk in his direction.

"Hey Herbivore," Leona plunked the basket down unceremoniously.

"Hey Leona," you looked down at the random stuff in his basket, trying not to smile at what just happened. Something warm and--dare he say it?--proud welled up in his chest when he realized you were happy about him scaring the guy off.

The heart-shaped stickers he kept finding on everything when he got back to Savanaclaw helped, too.

----

Ruggie lived for the holiday specials at Sam's. He was a bit put out that he wasn't picked to staff the Valentine's shift but the in-store discounts were a small consolation. It'd be better if he could stack them with an employee discount but he'd take what he could get! His mouth started watering as soon as he entered, sniffing out deliciously fluffy donuts.

Hopefully people would be distracted with the lollypops and chocolates and leave his donuts alone!

He choked down the occasional nervous whine when people gravitated too close to the donut display, distracting himself with the decor and wondering what would be most profitable to flip. His eyes began to wander to the people in front of him; Ruggie tsk'd at how casual and unguarded they were. Ripe for the picking, he looked at their wallets and fistfuls of thaumarks just out in the open.

If he wasn't worried about being banned from Sam's and losing some gigs he'd--

"How much do you cost?"

EXCUSE ME?! Ruggie freezes, eyes going wide and ears twitching when he hears that. The dude said that and LIVED?

Oh, right. You're not a Savanna girl. The girls back home would beat him up and make him pay them to stop. Or just smack the shit out of him hard enough to put him in a coma. Maybe break his jaw so he can't drop anymore awful lines.

Women are to be respected! Not treated like something you can purchase!

Given that you weren't a Savanna girl and were bound by the rules of 'I'm currently on the clock', Ruggie took things into his own hands. You could just treat him later!

"Laugh with Me!" Ruggie hisses, backing into the closest display. It was a little bump to him but far more to the guy up front. He waved his arm around, skimming the bags of gummy candies while the guy at the register knocked down a whole tower of balloons on a stick. Bending over just enough to line the guy's head up with the counter, Ruggie lunges forward.

WOMP!

Oh it was so satisfying. The guy is hopelessly, helplessly stunned. He gathers his bearings and Ruggie slides his foot out; the guy loses his footing and slams into the counter again.

Only two times before he gives up? Kind of weak-willed, Ruggie thinks with a little smirk as he side-steps the disoriented guy and waits patiently to check out. Sam tends to him while you get the donuts he's been craving.

They'll taste even better because they smell like you. Happy Valentine's Day to him!

-----

Jack is usually very stoic but a lot of people mistake his stoic observation for irritation. He would blame it on his intimidating physique but he's not sorry and takes great pride in his appearance. He's a beastman--a Howl!--he's supposed to be intimidating! Intimidating appearance aside, Jack is also a very helpful soul.

A good boy, if you will.

The only reason he's in Sam's is on Ruggie's behalf. He was tasked with picking up a few things and was more than happy to help out his senior. They were from the same dorm, after all! Practically a pack! You have to help your pack!

He's not really bothered by the amount of people, more focused on keeping his tail out of people's way and making sure he doesn't knock anything over. All at once, the atmosphere changes a little. There's a hint of sour in the air and a noticeable hike in someone's pulse.

It's your pulse. You look...distressed? Why are you distressed? Where is the threat?

Whatever it was, he missed it and he's cursing himself.

His ears swing forward as he catches bits and pieces of conversations. Some people are complaining the guy is taking too long, other people are laughing at his crappy pickup line. Some people are wondering if it's going to work.

This was a weak display if he ever saw one. The guy didn't even look confident in himself! All of your body language has now firmed up into rejection but the guy's not getting the hint. He's trying the 'oh, c'mon!' thing his siblings do when they want to play.

You don't know it, but you've been feeding Jack when he trots by in wolf form. He likes to finish off his morning jogs in wolf form to really stretch his joints and obliques. It was supposed to be a one-off thing, him following the tantalizing aroma of food to your door. Your cooking is fantastic and while you don't know that you're a pack mate, you're a pack mate!

You're just a pack mate who feeds him and gives him occasional pets. And these to die for scratches that he'd kill to feel with his real skin instead of fur. Any touch would be fine, really. Not that you'd ever know.

Jack doesn't even know he's growling until people start moving out of his way. The growl crescendos as he walks towards the guy. Tail bristling, Jack opens his mouth to show off sharp canines. "Get lost! They're not interested in you! They're just trying to work!"

As expected, the guy tucks tail and runs. Jack snorts, licking his lips that have suddenly become dry. His ears don't know what to do, caught between catching all the murmurs behind him and wanting to press down in embarrassment.

It's quiet but he hears it. "Thank you, Jack."

"Don't mention it," he crosses his arms, looking everywhere but you as you scan his items. He was avoiding looking at you directly but he notices you slip a few extra beef sticks into his bag. He blushes.

Yeah, don't mention that either.

[aninipanin1]

MY BUMBLEBEE

Notes: Nothing just pure fluff and a lil jealousy, This is Miss Manager Junior btw:> And I got this idea from MemeSuga01's book titler "Blue Lock Specials" Special 18 in Wattpad! Please check out their books and account. They make really good stories!

"Bachira-san-"

"Y/N!!!!"

You were tackled with a hug that almost knocked the wind out of you. There were times like these where you remembered that Bachira was like the rest of the players in the facility, absolutely tall and built.

"Um...hi, how may I help you..?"

"Nothing! I just wanted to hug you!! You don't visit our stratum much anymore hmp!!"

He pouted, arms still around your neck as he happily cheered and tattled whatever was in his mind away. Seeing the excited look in Bachira's eyes made you quite happy and a bit guilty if you were to interrupt with whatever he was saying, so you nodded your head at whatever he was saying, even if it does not make sense at times.

As he talked, arms still around you, you started to let your eyes wonder about his features. You never noticed it, but the yellow in his hair was really bright and matched his pretty eyes. You think deep down that everyone has really pretty eyes, but the ones in the Blue Lock's facility take the cake, the variety of colors are all comparable to literal gems.

Bachira's looked like one of an amber, one preserved after so many years because of its shine and beauty. But it's not just beautiful but resilient as well, surviving whatever weather, temperature or disaster may occur around it. And it's not that far from Bachira's own story.

As you thought deeper, you then noticed how the black part of his hair mixed well with his yellow hair and eyes. He looks like a honeybee! Or even a-

"Bumblebee..." You ditzily whispered, not knowing you said it outloud, and unfortunately for you, Bachira heard it too.

"Eh? What did you say, Y/n-chan?" He tilted his head, his arms loosening a bit around your neck. Your ears and cheeks immediately flushed in embarrassment thay you said something so embarrassing out loud without a thought.

'Stupid Y/n...'

"Aww cmon Y/n-chan! What was it?"

"I..I said...you looked like a honeybee...I mean...I think you look closer to a bumblebee because of your personality! And because bumblebees are so chubby and cute and-" you covered your mouth, catching yourself talking too much again. There were moments like these where you would forget that you were talking to someone and you needed to filter out your words, and would instead talk their ears off with your unfiltered thoughts.

But, instead of being mad like you thought, Bachira's cheeks turned really pink before he hugged you even tighter than before.

"Aww Y/n-chan!! You're so cuteeee!! I like that nickname so much! I like it!" He cheered, jumping around as his arms were still around you making you a bit dizzy, before blinking at his words.

"Really? You don't mind I called you bumblebee?"

"Nope! I like it! Say, say, do you have nicknames like that for the others?" He asked, his smile still wide and the same but his eyes held some sort of hidden agenda. And he desperately wished that you only had a nickname for him and no one else.

"Uh nope! It just came out of me...!"

With that answer, his eyes became even brighter. He felt really special that you called him that, especially since bumblebee sounded so cute in his ears, giving him tingles on his heart.

"Sooo can you start calling me Bumblebee instead of Bachira-san?" He said excitedly, and you, being so oblivious at his hidden agenda immediately nodded at the idea. After all, you liked cute things and cute nicknames to your friends made you so happy and satisfied.

"Okay! You're my bumblebee from now on, Bachira-san!"

"Yay! I'm your bumblebee!!"

What you did not expect however was the reaction that the supposed innocent and cute nickname you gave the yellow and brown-haired striker.

You currently joined the boys in eating their lunch. Every Sunday, all the boys would share a cafeteria to eat lunch together for the sanitization of the other's they use everyday and for better bonding moments too (althoug Ego hides the latter reason). Picking your food tray, you tried to find a good spot to sit and enjoy your food. As always most of the tables had a vacant seat (which most would leave open in hopes you'd choose their table and sit with them).

But, before you can find a seat, you found Bachira entering the cafeteria and him being him, immediately ran to you and greeted you. He looked to be happier than he usually is, and he was. Deep down, Bachira was quite happy and flustered at the nickname you gave him. Even if a few hours had passed and training had done and went, he still could not keep it off his mind.

He really liked the way your tongue said his name, but the tone, the sheepish mutter of the word "bumblebee," calling to him and him alone made him feel so jittery and excited in a different way that he ever felt before.

"Hi Y/n-chan!!"

"Hi Bachira-san! Are you going to eat yet?"

"Awww...why did you call me that?"

He pouted at you, a little disappointed that you did not call him the nickname you gave him. Mostly because he really did like it and wanted you to call him that always, but also because he knew that the rest of the boys were listening and wanted you to call him thay in front of them to indirectly tell them that he was really special to you.

Tilting your head, you were a little confused as to what he was talking about until you remembered the conversation you had with him earlier. Your eyes brightened at the memory and looked a bit apologetic for forgeting.

"Oh, I forgot...'m so sorry, Bachira-san- I mean, my bumblebee!"

Crickets and silence.

That was all that was heard in the cafeteria the moment you called Bachira the nickname. The conviction and softness in your voice when you called him along with the sweet meaning that the nickname held, with the addition of the 'my' in the beginning made it feel so personal and possessive.

It can even be a nickname one gives to their significant other. And that did not sit right with them.

"Eh..? Did I say something wrong?" You wondered as you sat beside Bachira in the large table most of your friends sat in, yes even people like Rin, Barou and Kunigami who didn't think they were 'friends.'

"No fair, why does he get a nickname, while I don't Y/n-chan?" Nagi said from the other side of your chair as he rested his head on your shoulder, looking up at you with his sleepy eyes that held some sort of hidden conviction and annoyance.

"Yeah, Nagi's right, Y/n-chan! I want a nickname too!" Hiori raised his hand.

"Me too! Me too!" Kurona pitched softly.

"When did you even start calling Bachira that, Y/n-chan?" Isagi asked, feeling the familiar green face of jealousy. The question made you smile softly, because you thought that the nickname was just for friends, finding it absolutely adorable.

"I was talking with Bachira-san earlier this morning, and I kinda uttered how he looked like a bumblebee because bumblebees are so cute, fuzzy and chubby and his personality feels like one! So we agreed his nickname from me will be bumblebee from now on. Isn't it cute?" The happy and satisfied look in your face lessened the annoyance they felt to the brunette striker who just ate happily beside you.

"Yeah, cute." Rin said, his tone hid a sassy and annoyed tone.

"Can I still get a nickname, Y/n-chan?" Nagi asked, his stubbornness shining through at such a trivial thing. But to him, it was less than trivial. He wanted a personalize nickname from you, one that felt special to him especially because it was coming from you.

"Eh really? Um okay...uh you can be Ice Bear from We Bare Bears! You remind me of him, Nagi-san!" You offered with a bright smile. Finding his snow white hair, tall build and lazy personality mirroring the cute bear character.

Nagi seemee satisfied enough with the nickname, finding it endearing, but most especially because it came from you.

"Yay...I'm your Ice Bear."

Everyone else frowned at that, even Bachira who wanted to be the only one who had a nickname. But, hey he was not selfish like thay so he just continued eating.

And with that, the rest of the guys on the table started to ask you for nicknames too. But instead of feeling overwhelmed, you felt so happy and excited in giving them the silliest and cutest nicknames your mind can think of. You feel like your inner kid (that you lack) was brought out by the moment, and well, you loved your friends so you were more than happy to give each of them a nickname!

"Um...Rin-san can be Keroppi...!"

The rest of the boys laughed at the comparison between Keroppi and Rin.

"Rin-chan is not cute at all like Keroppi!" Bachira laughed as the rest agreed, pissing Rin off.

"Hmm, I don't know why I called Rin-san Keroppi, but it just sounds right to me! My Keroppi!" At the final sentence, Rin's full cheeks from his food turned red in a snap, almost choking on his food due to being so flustered and shocked at the nickname.

"Um, and this is ashi which means leg!"

You were currently holding a newspaper that Loki tried reading and explained what some of the worrd meant, since he was curious. But to your suprise, all the foreign players crowded next to you to listen to the explanation. Sure, they were not really thay ready to learn another language altogether, but they were curious and spending time with you at the same time was not exactly a bad combo.

On the field sat Lorenzo, Ness, Charles, Loki and Kaiser around you as you pointed at the words that was foreign to all of them as you slowly explained each of the symbol and what it meant. They were listening, well until Rin entered the field to look for you. And well, you made a mistake in acknowledging him in the new nickname you gave to them infront of the foreign players.

"Oh um sorry, my Keroppi! I'll start doing the laundry later!" As if clockwork anytime you used that word, Rin turned a bright red before leaving the field to try and cool off and try to find a way to not get flustered like a damn fuse everytime you use that nickname.

But, the rest of the players noticed the rather cute nickname and well, they were less than pleased and more envious.

"Ehhh why does Rin-Rin have a cute nickname from you but I don't? Y/n-chaaannn please give me one too!!" Charles said as he clung to your arm.

"Eh..?"

"I agree with the kid, Y/n." Michael said with a smirk. You felt like a trapped mouse under the expecting gaze of the players. Loki noticed this and sighed before hitting Charles's head which made the midfielder let out an 'ow.'

"Don't harass her, you fools. If she wants, she'll give us one. Geez."

"Uh thank you, Loki-san. But it's really fine! I'll give you guys nicknames too!" You started to think for one as they all watched you, then you looked at Charles and fangs when a genius strike hit your head.

"Charles-san can be Meowth from Pokemon!"

"Yey! I'm fine with that! Thank you, Y/n-chan!"

He said as he hugged you even tighter which just made you smile, but when you turned to Kaiser, you remembered a memory about the time Isagi was ranting to you about Kaiser.

"Yeah, and he even has that annoying rat-hair! I hate him SO much, Y/n-chan!"

The word rat repeated in your head, and a character appeared in your head, but before you can filter your thoughts into words, you said what you thought out loud.

"Jaq-jaq from Cinderella."

And well, the entire field ended up in laughter. Loud and hard laughter. Even Ness could not help the chuckle that left his mouth, remembering the familiar mouse character.

And well, that pissed Kaiser a bit. Which made you panic a bit.

"Oh, I'm so sorry Kaiser-san! I just remember Isagi-san calling you a rat and well...it ran in my mind..."

"HAHAHHAA IT FITS! HOLY SHIT IT FITS!" Lorenzo laughed and hugged his stomach which made Kaiser even angrier.

"Shut up! You are more of a rat than I am!"

"I'm sorry! Pfftt-" Loki said as he continued laughing, meanwhile Charles had tears in his eyes from laughter. Was it just from the nickname? Or even from the way you said it with such seriousness and conviction that made them laugh?

"Ehhh 'm so sorry, Kaiser-san..." you said, animated tears running down your face because, well an angry Kaiser was a scary Kaiser.

"Its fine, dear...but if just some of you will shut up!" He said with pointed looks at Lorenzo and Charles.

In the end, you settled with Kaiser being Cinnamoroll in your eyes. Finding his aesthetic and his hair color similar to the color scheme of the cute character.

ADDITIONAL TIME!

BLUE LOCK TV COMMENT SECTION:

User01: Awww but Kaiser fits the first nickname better🥺

Reply:

-> user02: right?! My favourite part of today's episode AHAHHAHA

User03: I want more behind the scenes moment wth?! Cmon editors and directors! I wanna see more of these moments lmao

User04: I don't think the Blue Lockers themselves, the directors and even the editors can deny that theyre all whipped for Miss Manager

-> User06: I super agree! Like, anyone with eyes can see that Miss Manager built herself a reverse harem in that place

User05: Nagi as Ice Bear is actually a really good nickname for him, but the Keroppi with Rin took me out for a bit LMAO maybe his behind the scenes personality is a bit more different to be guaranteed that nickname?

LMAO THIS ONE TOOK ME OUT but like help me out here, I wanna use these nicknames in the futhre so please do comment what you think the nicknames for the other Blue Lock players can be because I legit ran out of brainjuice just to think about it. But also, in the future Additional times I wiuld be putting the Blue Lock TV commment section buuut as a twist, I would be using some of my followers' username (if thats fine with you guys huhu) as the usernames, it would be used as some sort of shoutout and all, but also as a small thank you for all of you!

Blue Lock is WRITTEN by Kaneshiro Muneyuki and ILLUSTRATED by Nomura Yusuke. All credits to the both of them.

[munsonsmixtapes]

I'm Still Your Boy

Ex=boyfriend!Eddie x fem!reader

After your boyfriend cheats on you at your birthday party, your ex Eddie reminds you that he'll always be your shoulder to cry on.

cw: hurt/comfort, mention of cheating

You don’t know what you did to deserve this. Maybe it’s because of something you did in a past life. Some sort of karma, perhaps? Whatever the reason, you don’t think you actually deserve to be cheated on by your boyfriend. Your boyfriend who told you that he wanted to save himself for you and you alone, which seemed to be a fucking lie just to get in your pants considering you caught him with the very girl he told you not to worry about. 

They were fucking and to make it even more sad, they were fucking in your bed at your birthday party. Well, wasn’t that just the cherry on top of the shit sundae? And they were so caught up in each other that they didn’t even hear you slam the door. 

Before anyone could see you cry, you hurry to the bathroom, thankful that you’re upstairs and that no one else was around. What’s supposed to be a fun celebration has turned into something you’ll remember forever for all the wrong reasons. 

As soon as you’re alone, you sit on the toilet and begin to cry. Maybe you feel a bit pathetic but you can’t help it. Sure, it’s not like you actually loved the man, but it still hurts like hell. Especially when Josh told you time and time again that Chelsea would never be a problem. 

And now you find yourself wondering how long they’ve been doing it behind your back. And why you feel so hurt. It’s not like you even liked him that much. And now this is the excuse to break up with him that you’ve been looking for. 

You’re full on sobbing now and it’s not like you’re surprised, you were expecting it to happen with the way they’re always looking at each other, but you’d think your boyfriend would at least have some decency to not cheat on you at your birthday party. But apparently that was too much to ask. 

You grab some toilet paper from the roll next to you and blow your nose, absolutely positive that you look terrible with mascara tears streaming down your cheeks, but you can’t get yourself to look. That would just make you feel even worse. You spent hours on your makeup and now you let some stupid boy ruin it in a matter of minutes. 

Eddie doesn’t even know what he’s doing at this party. He wants to be here, but he’s not even sure why he was invited. The two of you broke up years ago and even though it was mutual and there was no bad blood, you just drifted apart. 

He feels so weird being here in this house. There are so many memories that the two of you have created here, a time capsule of your relationship. He wants to be there to celebrate you, but being there with all of the little moments the two of you shared throughout your relationship is far too painful to relive. He misses you so much more than he’d ever care to admit. 

He wants to be your friend again, but seeing the way your new boyfriend was glaring daggers at him when everyone was singing “Happy Birthday”, he’s not so sure that’s a good idea. He’s only known he guy a couple of hours and he’s already convinced with a few drinks in his system, he’d knock him the fuck out. 

His name is Josh for starters. Fucking Josh. That should be a red flag on its own. He also somehow got you the wrong cake which was clearly mostly for him since he seemed so excited about it. That seemed to be a common theme considering the same went for your gift. He got you a video game for a system that you don’t even have and it was the second one in a series. 

And Eddie swore he wasn’t going to leave the party alive when you opened your gift from him. It was a special edition of your favorite book as a child and if looks could have killed, he would have been dead. You seemed so grateful for the gift, even going as far as hugging Eddie, nothing but happy tears pricking your eyes. 

He didn’t realize just how much he missed holding you until you were in his arms again. You just fit so perfectly. Before he could reminisce too much, you pulled away, moving back to sit in Josh’s lap, but he was nowhere to be found. 

Out of all of your friends who were there, Eddie seemed to be the only one who could tell just how little fun you were having. How was it that you seemed to be invisible at your own birthday party? Why was he the only one who seemed to care? The two of you weren’t even friends anymore. Maybe after tonight, that’ll change.He really wants to reconnect. Maybe he can invite you out for coffee and the two of you can catch up. 

It’s almost midnight. Most of the guests have already left or they’re so drunk that they’ve passed out on the various pieces of furniture around the first level of the house. You’ve disappeared and that’s all Eddie cares about. He wants to find you so he can say goodnight and get the fuck out of there before he does something he’ll regret. 

He heads up the stairs on the hunt for you, but he realizes that he needs to go to the bathroom first. He knows he should anyway before he hits the road. He sees the bathroom door is cracked and heads for it, opening it expecting to see it empty, but he finds you sitting on the toilet sobbing your eyes out. 

“Eddie, hey,” you grin at him, trying your best to look normal even though your eyes are red and your cheeks are tear stained. 

“Hey.” He waves awkwardly in a way that you’ve always found so adorable. “Sorry, I didn't know anyone was in here. I’ll give you some privacy. He turns to leave, but you grab hold of his wrist before he can get too far. 

“Will you stay with me?” You ask with a sniff. He would stay with you even if you weren’t crying, but he especially will because you are. 

He shuts the door all the way then sits on his knees in front of you, forcing himself to look at you even though seeing you cry always broke his heart. He doesn’t know why you’re crying but he has a guess. He doesn’t ask even though he really wants to. He wants to wait for you to speak, not wanting to pry, but just keep you company as you go through a hard time. 

He takes the toilet paper from you and wipes away your tears, gently dabbing to preserve what little makeup is left. He knows how important that kind of thing is to you. Well, he’s actually not so sure you feel that way still. He forgets that he doesn’t actually know you anymore. 

“I look terrible, don’t I?” You look up at him, lips trembling and he really doesn't think he can take seeing you cry anymore. It’ll just make his heart break even more than it already has.

“You look beautiful as always.” It’s his go-to response but it always worked like a charm. He wonders if his flirting still has the same effect on you. He used to love seeing the way you’d get all giggly when he would compliment you. 

“But you have to say that, you’re my-” you cut yourself off, remember that Eddie isn’t your boyfriend anymore. Your boyfriend is the reason why you’re crying. “Sorry, habit.” 

“Don’t apologize,” he shakes his head. “You do look beautiful, though. That dress is great, but I wouldn’t expect anything less. You always did have good style, y/n.” 

“Is this all just your clever way of getting into my pants?” The words are dripping with venom and Eddie wonders what he said that made everything shift. He was just paying a compliment, nothing more, nothing less. 

His eyes widen and he stammers, trying his best to save himself quickly as he’s drowning fast. Your eyes widen as well so clearly you’re just as surprised by your sudden outburst. You have no idea where it came from especially since Eddie has never been that kind of guy and he especially wouldn’t be now knowing that you have a boyfriend.

“No,” he finally says as he’s able to find the words. “I was just paying you a compliment and you know that.” 

“I-I’m sorry.” You’re shaking your head, hating how you’ve spoken to him, accusing him  of something that he clearly wasn’t even doing. “I just caught Josh cheating on me and I guess I’m taking it out on you.” 

“He what?” Oh now he’s livid. He’s got to kick this guy’s ass now that he finally has an excuse. 

“It’s my fault,” you shake your head again. “I wasn’t giving him enough attention-” your words are cut off by Eddie taking your face in his hands, staring you down. 

“It’s not your fault. Stop making excuses for him y/n. That guy is a fucking loser and he doesn’t deserve you. He deserves to end up broke and alone.” You know he’s right but just want to pass the blame onto yourself because then there would actually be a reason for Josh’s cheating other than the fact that he just doesn’t seem to care about you. 

“You always know what to say, don’t you?” He does in your eyes. ever since the two of you started hanging out, he had a knack for telling you exactly what you needed to hear even if it was a little too blunt for your liking. You appreciated that he never failed to tell you the truth no matter how much it may have hurt.

“I try.” It seems like all of your feelings for each other that have been bottled up are pouring out, now almost palpable because of how strong they are.

“I miss you.” 

“I miss you too,” Eddie replies, moving his thumbs back and forth across your cheeks just like he used to do. “I’ll be kicking myself for letting you slip through my fingers for the rest of my life.”

“What if we gave it another try? The friendship part?” Your face lights up at his suggestion and you decide that this is the best birthday present you’ve ever received. 

“I’d really like that. Hey, I think Benny’s is still open. Do you want to get something to eat?” 

“I’d love nothing more.” Eddie helps you up from the toilet and leads you out the front door where you head to his van to head to the diner. 

The two of you find yourselves in your favorite booth, eating and laughing like no time has passed. You stay there into the early morning as the sun comes up, finishing off your meal with a milkshake that the two of you share for old time’s sake and right then and there, Eddie realizes that he’s still is very much your boy, still wrapped around your goddamn finger just the way he likes and there’s no other place he’d rather be.

[invoncible]

PADAME READER AND ANAKIN MARK??? YES WE WOULD LOVE. OMG YOU'RE BRAIN WOW WHAT A CONCEPT. No but this has literally floored me omg... Anakin!Mark....

YAYYY no because i was constructing the storyline in my head before bed as you do and it just makes sm sense ?? i hope to publish the full fic within the next week or so !! i'm already pretty deep in, so im hopeful <3

okay wait sneak peek (this may lack context but wtv):

(viltrumite!mark x f!reader)

Mark and his father had been making a name for themselves in the past few weeks. They were always available to help out, showing up at the perfect time to take down a heinous criminal or a rampant monster. Of course, being the very responsible representative you were, you celebrated their wins (well, Mark’s mostly, as Nolan still held you at a distance). You weren’t met with much enthusiasm, but as long as Mark didn’t push you away, you knew you were getting through to him.

“Here we are,” You set down a cake in front of him. His house, which usually smelt disgustingly clean, was now filled with the aromas of sweet baked treats and frosting. “Happy 50th victory!” 

Mark raised an unimpressed eyebrow at you, eyeing your creation with doubt. “What is this?”

“It’s a cake.”

“I meant what are you doing?”

You dropped into the chair beside him, dusting your hands off. “It was supposed to be for your 10th, but you just kept going and going. I had to update and catch you before you did anything else.”

“What is the purpose of this?” He sighed

“My job is to attend to you, to make you feel at home. We celebrate things like this here.” You smiled, offering him a fork. “It’s just for fun.”

Mark rolled his eyes at your explanation. “So, a waste of time.”

You huffed in offense, slamming your hands on the table. “It is not a waste of time! If you don’t wanna celebrate your big wins, fine. But this is good cake. Do you have cake on Viltrum?”

“No.”

“What about alcohol?”

“No.”

“Good day to try both then, what do you think?” You hummed, getting up from your seat and rifling through the shopping bags you brought. Pulling out a bottle and grabbing two glasses, there was a little voice that warned you; don’t get drunk alone with him. 

You poured two glasses, sitting down and handing one to him. Thankfully, he took it. You ate the cake out of the display plate in silence, occasionally sipping from your glass. Mark didn’t drink for a while, eyeing you like a predator would their prey. 

If there was something women everywhere were good at, it was ignoring the persisting gaze of others. Especially the eyes of a man who’s actively staring into their soul. 

You cleared your throat. “What’s your purpose here?”

He kept staring at you. 

You gave him a look, leaning back in your seat. “I’ve told you mine. S’only fair.”

Mark scoffed, a small smile on his lips. A jolt of satisfaction shot through you. 

“I don’t owe you anything.”

“Not even good conversation?”

“This isn’t ‘good conversation.’” You were too tipsy to be frightened by the darkness in his features. “You’re trying to find a reason not to trust me.”

“Mm.” You swirled the liquor in your glass. “Is that what you call getting to know you?”

Mark’s nose scrunched up in a way that you weren’t scared to call adorable. “Getting to know me? For what reason?”

“For… the sake of getting to know you?”

Mark waved you off, taking an experimental swig of the alcohol. He caught your surprise before he slammed the glass down on the table. “What?”

“You’re not supposed to down it all in one go.” You scoot your chair closer to his, your shoulder bumping into his side. You refilled both your glasses to par. “I mean, you can, but… enjoy the moment. Little sips.”

Mark watched your lips surround the rim, stamping your lipstick onto the glass as you tilted it upwards; the curve of your throat as you swallowed; the little sigh after you set it down again. 

“See?”

“Yeah,” Mark took the stem of the wine glass between his fingers. “but… show me one more time?”

You gave him a knowing look, ignoring his request and tapping his hand. He huffed and raised the cup to his lips, following your demonstration. He went to slam the glass back to the countertop but you were fast enough to grab his wrist. 

“Be gentle.” You pleaded, a cute pout on your lips. “It could break.”

Mark wanted to retort, who gives a fuck if it broke? Instead a shiver zipped down his spine. He’s always felt some type of way when you touched him. After the moment, when clarity hit, annoyance brewed inside his chest. How was he, the viltrumite capable of tearing down cities, more affected by touch than some weak human? He’d set it down however he wanted–he’d throw it if he wanted. 

But Mark set the glass down gently because it was what you wanted.

[ckret2]

Chapter 59 of human Bill Cipher possibly not being the Mystery Shack's prisoner because he got executed two chapters ago:

Everything you haven't wondered about how Bill survived his execution.

7:27 a.m.

Mabel didn't know why, but figuring out when to ask Mrs. Grendinator to pull over had felt as stressful as trying to throw a ping pong ball into a passing car's open fuel door to land in the little fuel pipe. All she had to do was ask to pull over after they'd passed everything but the last truck stop, but before it was too late for Mrs. Grendinator to make the turn into the Triple Digit parking lot. That was a large window. It wasn't easy to miss. Somehow Mabel still dreaded that she'd speak up too late and Mrs. Grendinator would say she'd have to wait for the next rest stop—by which point Bill would have splatted like a bug against the weirdness barrier while everyone else passed safely through.

But she'd managed to blurt out "I forgot to use the bathroom at home. Can we pull over?"; they'd stopped at the Triple Digit Truck Stop; and Mabel made it inside before her friends could catch her.

She locked the unisex restroom door, set her backpack on the ground, opened it up, and sighed with relief when she saw Bill sitting on her sweater. She carefully pulled him out, set him on the floor, and pointed the height-altering flashlight at him.

For a moment after returning to his true size, he remained seated on the floor, legs bent, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. Worriedly, Mabel asked, "You okay?"

"Think I learned what motion sickness is," Bill groaned. "Just—gimme a sec."

"Aww, I'm sorry." Mabel surreptitiously checked in her backpack to make sure Bill hadn't been sick on her sweater. (It was a cool one. It had kissing parrots.)

After a few deep breaths, Bill lifted his head enough to look at Mabel. The first thing he said was, "'Cool big brother-slash-sister,' huh?" He gave her a queasy, but cheeky, grin.

"Shut uuup you weren't supposed to hear that!" She'd just about died with embarrassment when Candy had repeated that where she knew Bill could hear.

"I'm flattered." Bill uncurled himself from his nauseous half-fetal position; and then, gripping onto the sink for support, got back to his feet. "Being smaller again was nice, but I'm never traveling like that again."

"You're such a whiner."

"Yeah, yeah. I have a lot to whine about. I'm dead and about to be executed. Talk about... lose your cake and... not-eat it, too."

Mabel laughed. Bill mussed her hair, grinning, and said, "Hey, you've got no room to laugh, you're the one with the not-setting-houses-on-fire bit."

"Arrrgh, don't remind me!" She pushed Bill to the side so she could use the mirror to straighten out her hair again.

"You did pretty well, though! I'd say that was some of the best acting I've ever seen out of you."

"You too! They definitely bought it," Mabel said. "Even Grunkle Stan was getting worried."

"Especially back in the kitchen, wow! That was really convincing." He paused. "Really, really convincing."

Something heavy hung in the air. Mabel focused on her hair in the mirror.

Bill said, "That bit in the kitchen about me 'depending' on you." He exaggerated the air quotes around the word, distancing himself from the concept. "It wasn't on our list."

"Yeah. It just kinda... seemed right. Improv." Mabel waved unenthusiastic jazz hands.

"It bothers you."

Mabel winced. "I mean... I'm not actually mad at you. But. I want to help, but I don't know what to do for..." She gestured at Bill. "The whole being dead on an alien planet issue."

"Believe it or not, the hoodie helps," Bill said. "Listening helps." But he couldn't meet her gaze; he was fiddling with his friendship bracelet instead. He had to know how heavy even just listening to him could be.

"I'm glad, but... I just... wish you had more friends you could talk to."

Bill nodded morosely. "So do I." It wasn't like he'd chosen to only have one friend, was it? Prisoners didn't get to make those kinds of decisions.

Mabel asked, "Do you really think I think you're just a summer fix-it project?"

"I... pfff... come on, I watched you spend all last summer handing out makeovers and dating advice. You've already done my makeup, taken me clothes shopping, and tried to pump me for info on what kinds of freaks I'm into."

(Mabel quietly filed away the fact that Bill referred to "freaks" as his preferred romantic targets.)

"That's how your summer was going to end," Bill said. "You tame the monster, go home triumphant, and don't worry about it anymore. Like how you patched up Broken Heart's love life and left him to sort out the consequences."

"No!" Mabel huffed, "I mean—maybe a little at the beginning, but... you're really my friend now, I'd hate it if I never saw you again. I don't give friendship bracelets to just anybody!"

Bill kind of thought she did; but he wasn't about to argue. "Well, I've only given one person a bracelet, and I meant it." (Even more now than when he'd originally made it.) "You're never getting rid of me now, star girl. You're stuck with me forever!"

Coming out of Bill Cipher, the promise should have filled her with dread. A month ago it would have filled her with dread. But Mabel just found it comforting. "Good."

(And Ford hadn't felt any dread when he'd sworn "until the end of time," either.)

Bill took off his backpack and rummaged through it. "Now let me make sure I can keep that promise."

He took out a map of the mountains and forest around Gravity Falls and spread it out on the floor for them to kneel in front of. "You know about the spaceship buried under town? When its ring cut through the mountain, a few chunks of the ship dislodged and were buried in one of the mountains. No human has ever found them before, not even your great uncle. That's where I'll hide."

"Are the chunks big enough to hide in?"

"Sure! There's one that'd serve as a decent studio apartment. Well—the cheapest studio apartment in Manhattan, maybe. But, hey, I don't have much furniture."

On the map, he showed Mabel a route to reach the base of the cliff, tracing it with his finger. She couldn't afford to take a map with the route marked; if the adults discovered Bill's escape and confiscated Mabel's possessions, a marked map would lead them straight to him. She'd just have to do her best to memorize the route he described. "When and if the coast is clear, you can come find me there."

"How do I get up the cliff?"

"Don't worry about that. You make it that far, I'll take care of the rest."

And that was all they could afford to discuss. Mabel couldn't hide in here for long. As Bill refolded the map (and Mabel was awed to learn he was the kind of person who could refold maps correctly on the first try), and he packed the map and the height-altering flashlight in his backpack, they each tried separately to figure out how to get around to saying goodbye.

"I uh... I know you're sticking your neck out for me, kid." (Bill wasn't used to this, wasn't used to people who didn't help him due to fear or duty or lies, wasn't used to people who still wanted to help him after they knew what he was really like.) "So, thanks—"

Mabel flung her arms around him. Her voice thick, she said, "I think your manners are getting better."

"Shut up, I've always known how to say thanks." It was gratitude that was new.

"Be safe out there," Mabel said. "Don't die, or else. Remember to eat. And drink water! And do laundry sometimes."

"All right, all right. You'll find me in better health than you left me. All the sunshine and fresh air this body can take."

"I'll miss you."

Keep it together, Cipher. He swallowed hard. "Have you ever heard the song 'We'll Meet Again'?"

"Uh-uh?"

"Old war song. Look it up once you're in Portland, when you aren't busy having synthesizers pumped in your ears."

"Is it about... how we'll meet again?"

"Yes, smartypants. Look it up anyway," Bill said. "I'll miss you too."

Mabel washed her face, left the restroom, and shut the door behind her; and Bill waited in the dark while everyone left.

####

7:45 a.m.

A woman with two children opened the unisex restroom door, and gasped in shock when she saw a human silhouette lurking in the dark, one eye shining.

"Hey, thanks, lady! Couldn't get the door for some reason." He breezed past her. "Careful, it sticks from the inside."

He grabbed an empty backpack for sale, and loaded it up with supplies, food, and drinks. (The good stuff, not the weak cider he got in the Mystery Shack. He was making margaritas tonight.) He headed up to the cash register... veered to a currently-unmanned register, stole a handful of loose change out of a tip jar, and timed his exit so he walked out just as a man walked in and kindly held the door for him.

####

7:55 a.m.

It was a fair walk from Triple Digit back to the cliffs around Gravity Falls. When Bill was a safe distance into the woods, he unzipped his first backpack, retrieved his flattened top hat, and popped it out; and then continued on, behatted and using his umbrella like a cane.

Even with no sleep, even just a couple of days after the worst hiking trip in history, even tired and sore from an hour of frenzied dancing, even carrying two full backpacks with one strap slung over each shoulder, even with the sky gloomy and overcast—this was the best he'd felt since Weirdmageddon.

His steps were sure, his body was unchained, and the future had opened up for him again.

####

8:00 a.m.

Mabel kept glancing out the window, back in the direction of Gravity Falls, waiting and waiting to see the light of some kind of killer laser cut through the sky.

Maybe the Quantum Destabilizer's beam just wasn't visible from this far. Maybe they'd decided to wait to execute Bill. Maybe they hadn't wasted their shot because they'd already discovered Bill and Mabel's ruse. Maybe the "enchantment" Bill had written hadn't done its job.

But if they had discovered Bill was missing, they would've called Mabel immediately, trying to find out what she'd done and where he'd gone.

Her phone sat hard and heavy and silent in her pocket.

The butterflies in her stomach didn't stop fluttering until long after they reached Portland.

####

10:30 a.m.

Plus or minus a few trees, the rendezvous point at the base of the cliff was just how Bill had remembered last seeing it millennia ago. The Trilazzx Betan proximity sensor that had been embedded in the cliff face since the ship crash was still there and still sensing, even after millions of years and a layer of stone had closed around it. He could see it behind the face of the cliff; and it could see him.

He took out the multi-tool pocket knife Dipper had "donated" to Bill's supplies, flipped out the blade, and carved his face in a tree far enough from the rendezvous point to avoid notice by anyone who found this spot, but near enough it could see anyone who showed up. He made it as accurate as he could—hat, bow, limbs, eyelashes. That would unfortunately make it easier for humans to identify the face if anyone happened to walk by, but his ability to connect to his other eyes was still weak, he needed as much of a boost as he could get. He licked the bark, leaving his saliva to connect the eye on the tree to him.

And then he returned to the rendezvous point at the base of the cliff, and, beneath the watchful eye of the proximity sensor, began digging in the dirt with his hands.

Beneath the soil, fortunately not buried too deep, was a stone shaped like a small tombstone with several symbols carved into its surface that superficially resembled common runes. Bill brushed the dirt off of his leggings and rubbed it out of the carved lines in the stone. It was lucky that today was overcast; it would make this thing a lot easier to control.

Bill took out the flashlight, removed the height-altering crystal, turned it on, and aimed the beam at the topmost rune.

The runes began glowing an eerie green.

The ground shuddered; and then a patch of ground five feet in diameter lifted up into the air, carrying Bill with it, tearing the grass at the edge of the circle, propelled by a long-forgotten enchanted stone platform concealed in the clump of dirt.

He rose to the gouge that the spaceship had carved into the mountain; and then he moved his flashlight's beam to another rune. The platform smoothly shifted to moving sideways, gliding beneath the ancient overhang. When he turned off the flashlight, the stone stopped glowing and gently settled to the ground. Bill stepped off, fished a spare shirt out of his backpack, and pulled it over the rune-covered stone so it couldn't take off if the sun came out. There was a reason this buried stone was the only platform of its kind left in the area outside of the deep mountain caverns: leave one outside on a sunny day where the light can hit its runes, and next thing you know it's zoomed out over the Pacific and is quickly rising toward space.

He surveyed the area. Every once in a while humans climbed up here just for the challenge of it, delightful little explorers they were; but he doubted anyone had been up here in decades. He stood in front of what was, to all appearances, a completely nondescript patch of stony ground; and he said, in heavily accented but intelligible Trilazzx Betan, "Let me in, you hunk of junk. Activate emergency crash protocols."

A fragment of ship deep beneath the ground stirred awake, registered the command, analyzed itself and concluded from the fact that it wasn't in space and was separated from 99% of the rest of itself that it had indeed crashed, and activated emergency crash protocols. In acknowledgment of the dire situation, it deactivated its usual authorized personnel list—there was no sense in waiting for the captain to approve new orders if the captain might be dead—accepted the command given by the unknown being above it, and opened its hatch.

Millions of years of solid stone groaned and buckled in protest at being moved; but Trilazzx Betan engineering was strong enough for the framework of a portal capable of ripping a hole between dimensions without being ripped apart itself. The stone yielded first. A hatch swung up, revealing a tilted chamber descending into the cliff.

Bill strolled confidently down the walkway. "Cancel distress signal. Disable life support's air filtering." The fragment of a ship beeped a warning, and Bill responded, "I'm aware of this planet's high oxygen content. You worry about your health, I'll worry about mine. Disable air filtering." The ship beeped a confirmation. "Reconnect to all external proximity sensors in range and display on screens one, two, and three." This broken part of the ship had once handled communications. It had a whole wall of screens. He wondered whether he could jury rig this thing to pick up human satellite TV. Nah, probably not worth the effort.

He slung off his backpacks and started unpacking.

####

12:04 p.m.

It was time.

Dipper sat on the floor and put his head in his hands. He felt sick.

He was dead. In just a few seconds Ford would discover that Bill was gone—Dipper was sure he was gone, they hadn't heard a peep from the room, Mabel must've snuck him out or left him some escape route—and then Ford would know that someone had warned Bill and Mabel, and then Dipper was dead—

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah." Dipper waved Ford off. "Just... didn't get much sleep. Little dizzy." Ford would never trust him again. Stan would be furious. They'd both be furious.

"You can go downstairs if you..."

"No no, I'm fine, I..." Dipper took a deep breath and lifted his head. "I'll face it." Better to get it over with now than to hide downstairs and wait for it. 

Stan nodded. "Good man." He wouldn't be so proud of Dipper in a moment.

Ford nodded, stood, opened the door—and Dipper buried his face in his hands again.

####

12:06 p.m.

Ford could see Bill up in the loft, hood up and shoulders hunched, back to the room. Ford could shoot Bill in the back without him ever waking up.

He climbed into the loft. Bill lay curled up in a ball, a small as Ford had ever seen him.

But it only took a moment for Ford's eyes to adjust to the dark; and even in the dim light through the stained glass window, he could tell:

The shape in front of him wasn't human. Just lumpy clothes.

Ford whipped around, heart pounding, clutching the Quantum Destabilizer's carrying case against his chest, searching for the real Bill lurking somewhere in the shadows. No sign of him. Ford had already looked on the floor level. Was he gone? How?

He was too dumbfounded to be outraged. He walked up to the dummy to pull it apart—

And saw the paper, folded in quarters, floating in the air above it. Four symbols in a cipher were written atop the paper. Ford recognized them: it was the alien alphabet of an interdimensional pidgin used as a written lingua franca throughout the Nightmare Realm and its bordering regions; it was so widespread that Ford had learned the alphabet before he ever left Earth.

The four letters read, "F O R D".

Ford plucked the paper out of the air and unfolded it.

Stanford–

I'll cut to the chase. I need your help. I don't want to die.

I'm banking on the hope that, in spite of everything you've said and done, part of you also doesn't want me to die.

You have a choice. You can walk out there, tell them I escaped, rally an angry mob, and comb everything under the weirdness barrier for me. This town's not that big and I'll need to eat eventually. We both know I can't hide forever.

Or you can tell them you finished the job. No one looks for me. No one knows but you and me.

I don't have rewards or deals to offer. You already know what I bring to the table. If that hasn't persuaded you to side with me by now, it never will. I'm not bargaining. I'm begging.

I'm asking you, as my friend, to help me survive.

Please.

· –·-– -–

Of course.

How dare he.

Had Bill planned this all along? Was this why he'd insisted he wanted to be Ford's friend? Was this why he'd saved his life? Maybe the entire rescue had been staged—the rescue, the performance of fear over a harmless phenomenon, the mental breakdown, all of it. For all Ford knew, maybe the accursed Axolotl was in on the scheme! How clairvoyant was Bill? Had he seen this moment coming?

But if he'd seen this moment coming, wouldn't it have been easier to just let Ford, his executioner-to-be, die? Ford and Dipper both, so Dipper wouldn't figure out how to synthesize NowUSeeitNowUDontium? If he'd saved them in spite of that, didn't that make it a sincere gesture?

But implication was clear: I've been a friend to you, now be one to me. A life for a life. There was nothing sincere in that. It was pure self interest.

(For just a couple of days, Ford really had thought it was sincere.)

But if the only reason Bill had saved Ford was to save himself—then why had Bill endangered his own life in the process?

With every thought Ford's paranoia pendulumed.

He should get Stan. Call the cops, confess who they'd been harboring for the past month, tell them everything, get a manhunt going before Bill could make it any further away. Even if he couldn't leave the weirdness barrier, there were probably hundreds of hidden hidey-holes Bill could dig himself into that humans had never seen—unexplored hallways in Crash Site Omega, uncharted caverns behind Trembley Falls where Bill didn't even need light to see. They could drag him back into the light, tie him up, aim the Quantum Destabilizer straight at him...

But. In spite of himself, he could still see Mabel's drawing hopefully reassigning Bill the role of a superhero. He could still see the crumpled drawing in his pocket—"I BELIEVE IN YOU. YOU CAN CHANGE!" He could still see Dipper tentatively asking whether they might need Bill someday. He could still see Bill playing teacher in the living room. And for a moment, for just a moment, Bill had been so good. He could be so good.

Why couldn't you have been this person?

Why can't you be this person?

What if he could be better? What if he could be decent? What if he could be a friend?

Ford didn't believe Bill was any better today than he had been the day he died. But—at some point, something had slowly turned over in Ford's mind. He believed that Bill could change. Not would change, not is changing, but could. And if Ford started a manhunt, Bill would never be a threat again—but he'd also never be better.

There was a point where the doubt and hope built up to a critical mass—when they became enough, just enough, to stay the trigger finger. Because once Ford fired on Bill, that was it. All chances were gone forever. It was over. If Bill was alive they could always try again to kill him later; but if Bill was dead, they could never try again to better him.

And for the first time in thirty years, Ford wanted Bill to be better more than he wanted Bill to be dead.

Ford looked at the dummy. Looked at the note.

And then he lay the note on the dummy, knelt by the edge of the loft, opened his case, and removed the Quantum Destabilizer.

####

12:09 p.m.

Ten minutes ago, Bill had been in the process of emptying out his backpacks and finding nooks and cubbies amongst the alien communication workstations where he could tuck his supplies, when he'd glanced out the open hatch and noticed the beforeimage of the shot lighting up the sky.

He'd come out of his shelter to watch the moment approach; but he hadn't quite believed it until it was in the present and actually happening. The blue-white beam of the Quantum Destabilizer—its one and only shot—screamed off into the sky.

"Well, what do you know," he murmured, standing at the edge of the cliff, hands on his hips, staring out in wonder over the town. "I really didn't think you'd do it."

Ford had saved his life.

Bill crossed his arms tight and tried to convince himself he didn't wonder why.

####

12:10 p.m.

Ford heard Dipper and Stan come into the bedroom and climb the ladder. He was seized by an urge to sweep away the ashes and the evidence of his trick before they could realize what he'd done.

"Grunkle Ford...?"

He forced himself to speak. "It's done."

"So... Bill is...?"

Ford suddenly realized: Dipper knew Bill wasn't in here. He must have warned Mabel, and Mabel had arranged for Bill to be alone in their room long enough to escape.

Which meant Dipper knew Bill was alive.

(Bill had written, "No one knows but you and me." Bill was covering for the kids.)

Ford turned to look him in the eyes. "Yes, he's dead."

Which meant Dipper knew what Ford had done—and knew Ford knew what he had done.

Neither one of them needed to say anything else to know what the other was thinking. They just shared a look—the two most miserable co-conspirators in Gravity Falls.

####

12:25 p.m.

Bill sat cross-legged at the edge of the cliff and watched until the afterimage of the Quantum Destabilizer's shot had faded from the sky; and then he went inside his shelter, mixed the world's lamest margarita in a coffee mug, took it outside, sat again, and toasted toward the town and the Mystery Shack.

Here's to survival.

He sat outside until the gash the Quantum Destabilizer had cut in the clouds closed and it began to rain.

####

1:10 p.m.

Stan had come and gone a few minutes ago, and already Ford had forgotten everything he'd said, if he'd even registered it in the first place.

His fingers had itched until he'd finally had a moment to steal down to his study, retrieve Journal 5, and bring it up to the guest room; and now for over half an hour he'd been feverishly writing down every single thing he could remember learning about Bill over the last two days. The drawing of his homeworld. His lecture on biangles and psychic powers. How polygons inherited their sides. (Their royalty sounded nigh on Habsburgian; had their political system ever changed?) What little details Bill had let slip about where Edward Bishop Bishop's book was wrong. (Had he told Mabel more about their relationship? He'd have to ask when she was home.) How Bill signed his letter: "· -·-- --", Morse code for "EYM," was it an acronym, was it a code, what did it mean, why did he write it in two colors? How Bill spelled Mabel's name in alien alphabets: Mabelle, Maybell, the varying extra letters. How Bill danced: how he struggled to cross his ankles, how he turned out his feet, how his spine and shoulders never bent, how the complex ways he tilted his legs and pelvis compensated for his stiff spine.

If Bill was sticking around a while longer, then these details still mattered.

He refused to forget a thing.

####

Sunday, 12:02 a.m.

As "We'll Meet Again" finished playing, Mabel turned off her phone, put it back on her nightstand, and wiped her eyes again. Big stupid dork couldn't even say this himself, he had to hide it behind a song. 

Yes. They would meet again. Law of attraction. Believing it was the first step to making it come true.

####

10:20 a.m.

The fearful butterflies in Mabel's stomach had slowly returned during the drive home from Portland. No one had texted her—was that a good sign?—but she was afraid it just meant they'd decided to let her enjoy the rest of her trip before letting her know she was grounded forever for helping Bill escape. When they'd all greeted her at the door, looking so somber, and she was sure she was about to get the bad news, she'd just had to keep acting normal and hope she wasn't gonna get in more trouble for playing dumb.

The last thing she expected Stan to say was, "Weshotim."

"Say wha?"

"We got that—space gun of Ford's working. We shot him. He's... I'm sorry, sweetie."

Mabel stared at Stan. That was impossible—there was no way they'd found Bill. But—if Stan believed he was dead...

She dragged her gaze from his face to Dipper's. Dipper bit his lips, staring at his feet. He wouldn't meet her eyes—too afraid that even looking at her would give something away.

She looked from Dipper to Ford. "Grunkle Ford?" She tried not to hope. "Is it true?"

There was no way he'd believed the dummy was real. The moment she'd read Bill's so-called "enchantment," she'd known making it believable was never the point. Bill's only real plan had always been to get Ford on their side.

For a long moment, Ford said nothing. He dragged his eyes up to meet her stare, took a deep breath, and nodded. "He's dead."

Mabel's eyes widened. Two days ago, Ford had been the one arguing that killing Bill was their only choice. If he'd changed his mind...

If anyone said anything else, she didn't register it in her excitement. She backed out of the doorway, leaped off the porch, and ran around the shack, looking for her bike. 

She had to see Bill immediately.

####

10:21 a.m.

Quietly, Dipper asked, "Did we do the right thing?"

Ford didn't know. His stomach had been twisting with guilt and doubt since yesterday. His conscience had kept him up half the night. "I hope so."

He feared they'd have second-guessed themselves no matter what.

####

2:30 p.m.

Bill was asleep. He'd been sleeping off and on for most of the past day. This was the first time since he'd died that he had somewhere safe to sleep—somewhere nobody could touch his vulnerable body, nobody could move him, drown him, kill him.

And this was the first time he hadn't been helpless and sightless.

In his sleep, he saw his own body, curled up on the tilted floor against a wall, on top of the sleeping bag and under the Pony Heist bedsheet, from an eye he'd drawn on the ceiling.

From another eye he'd drawn on the wall, he saw the ship's open hatch, the overhang above, a small sliver of the gray drizzly sky over Gravity Falls.

And from his eye on the tree, blurry and fading as the rain washed away his saliva, he saw a human-shaped mass of raucous colors exploring the pit in the ground left behind by his hovering platform.

A human? He sat up with a gasp and looked at the screen displaying the proximity sensors. Sure enough, the sensor at the base of the cliff was displaying a Mabel-shaped silhouette.

He grabbed his flashlight and climbed out of his shelter.

####

"Kid, what are you doing out out here?!"

Mabel looked up. Bill was some twenty feet above her and quickly descending on what looked like a chunk of flying dirt the same size as the pit in the ground she'd been inspecting. "Bill!" She leaned her bike against the cliff face. Finally—she'd been wandering around in the trees forever trying to figure out where Bill's rendezvous point was hidden.

"It's pouring rain," Bill scolded. "You could lose your immune system or—or slip in the mud or something."

"Wow, nice to see you too, mom." Mabel ran up as Bill landed his floating chunk of ground.

"Hey, I don't want anything happening to my favorite human!" He scooted over to make room for her on the platform. "Just couldn't wait for a sunny day to meet again, huh?"

"Psh, come on! Like you meant that literally." Near Bill, the rain had mysteriously stopped landing on Mabel. She looked up and saw the rain simply parting in the air over Bill's head.

He noticed her glance and said, "Did I ever teach you the spell to repel rain? Remind me to do that before you go." He pointed his flashlight's beam at a rune on a stone rising from the platform, and it lifted off again. "Nice sweater today." He poked one parrot-winged sleeve, its bright colors darkened by the soaking rain. "It probably looked better dry."

Mabel smacked away his hand. "Bill, guess what! Grunkle Ford decided to protect you!"

"I know, I saw the wasted shot from here." He steered the platform onto the cliff. He landed it next to a hatch that opened into a subterranean tunnel. "Of course, I always knew he would. Didn't I say we'd pull this off?"

Sure he'd known. That was why he'd lied about what the "enchanted" paper really was so Mabel wouldn't worry.

Mabel followed him down into the metal tunnel. "Do you know what this means? You can come back to the shack!"

Bill turned to stare at her in bewilderment. "Why would I want to do that?"

"Because... it's safe now? They're not gonna kill you?" Mabel squinted. "Why's it so dark in here?"

"Oh, right. You need this." Bill offered the flashlight.

Mabel turned it on. They were in a metal chamber, about half the size of the Mystery Shack's floor room and nowhere near as tall. One end of it had been torn off and dirt and stone served as the new wall. Most of the walls were dominated by heavy metal consoles, curved metal chairs, and screens, a few of which were on but flickered irritatingly. One chair still had a fossilized alien skeleton in it. Bill had put his top hat on it.

His supplies were piled haphazardly on consoles and the floor; all Mabel saw in his food pile was shelf-stable junk food and drinks. The air somehow felt more damp in here than it did outside with the rain. The chairs didn't have cushions, the floor didn't have carpet; everything was hard and cold and dark. She didn't even see a door for a bathroom in here. This was where Bill was staying?

"The Mystery Shack is safe for now," Bill said. "Just wait until Stanley decides to take another swing at me, or Dolores poisons my dinner again—or Ford changes his mind, dunks me in the bathtub, and doesn't let me back out."

"They wouldn't..." Mabel trailed off. She tried to imagine how mad Stan would be when he found out Bill was alive, and had to concede he might.

"Even if it was safe—why would I go back to that sorry makeshift prison?" Bill hopped up into one of the tilted alien chairs. There was a weird extended bit designed for alien anatomy that curved up at the end of the seat and forced Bill to straddle the chair rather than sit in it normally; it didn't look comfortable. "After almost a month and a half, I'm finally free!"

"Free inside a tiny bubble around the town," Mabel protested. "To live in a... weird little metal dirt room."

"Freely moving inside the entire barrier is a lot better than freely moving through half a shack! Surrounded by people who want me dead! I don't even get full privacy when I'm using the toilet—that's the bare minimum humans offer as basic respect! You don't know how many times I've been walked in on!"

"Do you even have a toilet here?"

Bill hesitated. "There's a—there are gas stations within walking distance."

"How are you gonna get into the restroom?"

"Fine, I'll dig a pit or something, all right? The point is, whatever I do, at least I can do it in freedom!"

He hadn't planned this through at all, Mabel realized. He'd only thought as far ahead as finding food and shelter that would last him the next couple of days. "But..." She gestured at the pathetic room around them. "The shack's got a proper roof and a shower and real food—wouldn't that be better than this?"

Bill scoffed "Only humans care about roofs and showers, and the idea of 'real' food is a social construct I reject!"

He'd be miserable here. Mabel couldn't let Bill do this to himself. "Then don't you wanna be in the shack with your only friend on Earth?" She gave him a pleading look. "Would you really rather spend the rest of summer in some dumb old busted alien ship?"

There was a flash of light reflected in the dark as Bill's eyes turned away from Mabel.

"Bill?"

He didn't respond. He trudged past her, halfway up the walkway out of the ship, and stopped there, his back to Mabel, hands on his hips, staring out into the rain. He sighed. "Kid, you're trying to give me Stockholm syndrome."

"I don't know what that means."

"It means I'll think about it," Bill said, voice flat. "Go back to the shack."

Before Mabel could move, Bill said, "Hold on. Let me teach you that umbrella spell first." He turned and descended back into the ship. "And when's the last time you ate? Human bodies act pathetic if they don't get glucose every three hours. Get some lunch, it's a long bike back to the shack." He gestured at his meager food supplies.

She rummaged through the foil bags and colorful boxes and grabbed some Chipackers and sour gummy dolphins.

Bill sat near her, grabbed a bag of jerky for himself, and said, "And tell me about that concert you abandoned me to my doom for."

####

4:00 p.m.

Bill escorted Mabel down off the cliff—and, at her request, let her borrow the flashlight and wiggle the floating platform back and forth a little as they descended. He took back the flashlight when she nearly crashed the platform and killed them both.

"Where'd this come from?" Mabel asked, poking the stone. "Did the aliens make this, too?"

"Nope! This is good old local Earth magic. Ever hear of Caterpillar Man?"

"Is that some kind of superhero?"

"Afraid not. Well—ever hear of Grendel?"

"Uh-uh."

They were nearly at the ground now. "I think I'll tell you next time."

As the platform lifted him back up, Bill watched Mabel wheel her bike through the trees, slowly heading toward the main road back into town.

For a midsummer day, it was chilly in the rain.

####

Monday, 1:03 a.m.

And it was even chillier in the post-midnight dark when he knocked on the Mystery Shack's door.

####

(Eager to hear what y'all think now that you've seen the full story of how Bill survived—last week once Dipper and Mabel's roles were revealed, I think most folks thought that fully explained how Bill faked his death. ;) Next week is probably a double length chapter, because there's no graceful way to break it in half and also it'd be nice to get this plot arc wrapped up before The Book of Bill comes out lmao.)

[rea-grimm]

Sleep protector Katakuri

It has always been your dream to own your own small bakery where you would bake fresh pastries, bread, doughnuts, cakes and anything else you could think of. Your family discouraged you, but you went ahead with it anyway. 

Eventually, you managed to buy a small bakery from an elderly lady. You were thrilled, but at the same time, because of your family's pressure, you began to suffer from nightmares. However, they were not only because of your family, but also because of the stress of never owning any such business. 

You dreamt about how much it was too much for you.—too much work, too many customers who were just giving you a hard time. The shop literally grew over your head, crumbling to pieces and shattering. Other times, it grew empty, with cobwebs covering everything. Similar dreams kept you awake at night. 

Other times, threatening letters made you dream of your family forcibly dragging you away, wrecking your business, or otherwise sabotaging you, just to get you back. 

You finally had everything ready to go and you could have your first premiere. You had all baked goods, and the pleasant aroma of freshly baked pastries wafted through the building. You had savoury pastries, sweet pastries, bread, and all sorts of things, and you could always add more. 

You were preparing a new batch of doughnuts when the doorbell rang and your first customer walked in. You lifted your head to greet an older lady with a long pointy nose, a scar across her face, and purple hair and matching lipstick you'd bought the shop from. 

"Hello, how are you," you smiled at the original owner. 

"Oh good. How am I supposed to be in retirement? I see you've spruced the place up nicely," she said, looking around. 

"I tried," you smiled. "Is there anything I can offer you? It's on me," you offered. The woman looked at the selection and chose a crème brûlée. You gave her an extra doughnut to go with it. Even though the owner looked like a witch, she seemed nice to you. 

"You're very sweet," she said and took the treats from you. "I'll eat it at home," she said, heading for the door before pausing. "Actually, I brought you something too," she said, returning to the counter. 

"You don't have to give me anything. You already sold me this store," you tried to rebuff her.

"Nothing of the sort. I want to give it to you," she shook her head and placed a teddy bear with burgundy and pink fur and a scarf around its snout on the counter. "Think of it as a good luck gift. A sort of talisman or protector if you will. I'm sure it will help you. Just don't ever take the scarf off, you'll upset him," she explained, and before you could protest, she left. 

You picked up the teddy bear and decided to keep it as a sort of mascot for your bakery. You placed him on the main display where he had a view of the entire shop and where doughnuts, cupcakes and assorted sweets were underneath. 

The first day went like clockwork without any problems and you closed with a sense of calm. Almost everything you had prepared was sold and there were only a few doughnuts left and nothing else. 

You cleaned up the bakery before you went upstairs to the floor where you now lived. It was quite convenient having the bakery downstairs and living on the first floor. At least it wouldn't be too far to work, you used to joke. 

You took your stuffed animal with you, and it kept you company. After a small dinner and a shower, you retired to bed with the stuffed animal in your arms. You lay down and picked it up in the air.

The stuffed animal had short-wine fur with a black and white scarf around its neck that covered its snout. He was wearing spiked pads and bracelets, making him look like the perfect pet, but also like something you didn't want to accidentally lay on. Plus, he had light pink markings on his fur. 

You wondered what he was hiding under his scarf, but then you remembered the lady's words. You were about to pull his scarf off when you paused and finally decided to stop. 

Finally, you put it on the bedside table, not wanting to accidentally gouge your eye out on the barbs, and lay down. If it was exhaustion from the first day, you fell asleep pretty quickly. 

Today, you dreamt about your first opening. In reality, everything went well at the beginning, but during the flash all the pastries went bad, got mould on them, got carried away by mice or crumbled to dust. In this dream, your family confronted you, made fun of you, humiliated you and you had to hide from them. You held your head and reminded yourself that it was just a dream. 

You already felt like you had to wake up at any moment when someone else appeared in the shop. It was a tall man whose head almost brushed against the chandelier you had there. 

The nightmares immediately focused on him, and he looked like he could predict their every move. He dodged their attacks without any trouble, and in an instant, they were defeated and vanished. 

You were still crouching when the man leaned towards you, and only now did you notice that he looked like a human version of your new teddy bear. Even now you couldn't see his mouth, which, like a teddy bear's, was covered by a scarf. 

He introduced himself as your protector and even told you your name, but it was as if your brain had completely sealed it off since you couldn't remember the name this morning. 

The protector made sure you were okay and helped you to your feet. He may have looked scary at first, but something told you there was more to him than met the eye. 

Thanks to this protector, you were now free of nightmares and could sleep peacefully and go about your business. 

In your dreams, he would take you to an island made of sweets. He guided you there and you discovered new places and tasted sweets. 

You discovered that he was a giant lover of sweets and was constantly giving you hints and tips on baking, especially doughnuts. Surprisingly, you remembered the recipe that morning, but you wrote it down just in case. At this rate, you were slowly filling up your notebook. These doughnuts soon became a big hit and always sold out. 

You noticed a strange thing about the doughnuts in your shop. Ever since you first opened your shop, you've noticed doughnuts disappearing here and there. Whether you had them in the back room, out of the public eye, where you had them ready to go, or right off the counter.

You didn't notice it at first, until a few days later when you made a batch. When you went back to get them to take to the store, there were three missing, and you were sure the tray was full when you left. 

After a while, you got more and more curious about what the teddy bear under the shawl looked like. You knew it would probably look like a classic stuffed animal. Although the teddy bear warning kept ringing in your head, your curiosity was greater. 

Lying in bed, you picked up the teddy bear and pulled the scarf down from its snout. You were quite surprised by the pointed teeth that extended up and down on each side. It was weird, but on the other hand, you thought it was cute. 

You didn't think you were gonna make your protector angry. When you fell asleep, he was furious. You violated his terms, his one wish. That's why he refused to defend you. He made that clear when he disappeared like a ghost.

Since that moment, you've slept poorly again. You had nightmares again, and your protector was nowhere to be found. You didn't admit it the first few days, but it was affecting you and your bakery more and more. You haven't seen him since, not even when you slept with your teddy bear in bed. 

After a week, you decided to try to reconcile the protector. You knew about his weakness for doughnuts and decided to bake him the biggest doughnut you could create. 

He gave you a lot of trouble, but you finally got the hang of it. You filled the doughnut and topped it with frosting. It was so big you could sit the teddy bear in the middle of it. Which you did. 

At bedtime, you left the doughnut in the bakery and put the teddy bear in the middle of it before you went up to your room and went to bed. You couldn't sleep for a long time and only after a few hours of tossing and turning in bed did you fall asleep. 

Just as you began to dream, you found yourself on Sugar Island in a place where the Protector often took you, and to your surprise, he was already there waiting for you. He gave you a stern look before his gaze softened.

With that doughnut, you'd appeased him. He would still have liked an even bigger doughnut, but he was satisfied with this one. It was as delicious as anything you'd baked. He said you could make more doughnuts like this. From that moment on, he started protecting you again. 

Even though your dreams and sleep were protected, the pressure from your family did not stop. Your little business was off to a good and steady start, but with it, the threatening letters from your family began to pile up. 

You ignored them and even reported them to the police, but they couldn't do anything about it as it was just letters and nothing else for now. 

One evening, however, it became something more. You were sleeping peacefully in your bed when the glass in the front door of your shop shattered. But with your bed upstairs and the door closed, you heard nothing.

A hand pushed through the broken glass and ejected the door, and several persons in black came in. It was your family. Firs,t they searched the interior for the alarm, but that was solved before they blew your fuses. 

What woke you up were the bangs coming from the floor below you. Sleepily, you sat up in bed and listened. Before you decided to do anything, you called the police in a whisper. 

Then you cautiously walked over to see what was going on. You tiptoed around, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. You walked down the stairs and down and stopped at the corner and cautiously peeked in to see what was going on. 

To your surprise, you saw your family on their knees, and bending over them was the protector you'd only seen in your dreams. He was bending over your family, and they all seemed to be wrapped in strange sticky ropes. He was giving them one last chance to leave you alone or he wouldn't be so merciful. 

Your family agreed and went on the run. As soon as they were gone, you turned on the light.

"Katakuri?" You asked, feeling like it was the strangest dream you'd ever had. Katakuri walked over to you and got down on one knee to be on the same level as you. 

"You're safe. I'll make sure nothing happens to you," he said, placing a hand on your shoulder. His touch was surprisingly gentle and warm. It convinced you that this was indeed real. 

"I know..." you said and hugged him. You were glad he was protecting you. You didn't want to imagine what your family would have done if he hadn't been there. 

"Can I ask you something? Can you close your eyes?" You asked weakly, looking up at him. You saw him measure you with his gaze before he finally nodded his head in agreement and closed his eyes. 

You pulled the scarf away from his face, revealing the teeth you'd already seen on the teddy bear. They were real now, but you didn't mind at all. You put your free hand on his cheek and kissed him on the lips.

"Thank you," you whispered before pulling away and returning his scarf to its original place. 

Katakuri put his hand on the back of your neck and pulled you close to his body, burying his head in your shoulder so you wouldn't see that his face was as red as his hair.

Sleep Protector Masterlist

[aurumacadicus]

I had a thought. Hmmmm. Bear with me.

--

"Rogers," someone barked, and Steve almost choked on his champagne. He turned, bewildered, to find Carol Danvers charging toward him like she was on a mission. A group of partygoers even scattered out of her way. He cast around for anything he could have said that would insult the air force. He couldn't think of anything that would have insulted her anymore than her playful ribs about the army, though.

"Barnes says you're a sad-sack," Carol said, coming to a stop right in front of him.

"...Ouch?" Steve spluttered after a moment. "He said that about me?"

Carol winced, seeming to realize she'd basically just insulted him. "No, I mean, uh--" She coughed, cleared her throat, then took a step backward to give him some space. "Barnes says you don't dance. At all."

Steve blinked, wondering what that had to do with anything. "No, I don't."

"And you came stag," she added, gaze intense.

Steve glanced around for an escape. That seemed ominous. He didn't even want to come to this stupid party, but the brass had basically told him it was mandatory after a few successful (and very high profile) missions. They hadn't served dinner yet. While he would miss the steak, he could probably make it out through the kitchen. Or a bathroom window.

"Will you stop looking like I'm asking you to volunteer for a firing squad?" Carol hissed between her teeth. "I just need you to sit with a friend while Jim and I dance."

"...Oh," Steve said after some thought. "Maybe if you hadn't charged up to me like you were asking me to volunteer for a firing squad, I wouldn't look like this. I thought Maria couldn't come?"

"Different friend," Carol answered, voice clipped. When he only raised an eyebrow at her in response, she huffed, blowing a piece of hair out of her face. "Jim doesn't want to leave him alone right now, but I didn't want to pull anyone away from their date."

Well, Steve supposed he could understand that. He threw back the last gulp of his champagne, then set the empty glass on the bar. "Okay. Don't approach me like we're about to get into a fistfight anymore."

"Sorry," she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, then turned to lead him over to her table. "Also, does Barnes's date have a gun on her? She reached for something when I went to ask him if he knew anyone who wouldn't mind sitting for a song."

"No, it's a knife," Steve answered helpfully.

Carol almost stumbled, but she caught herself on the next step. "She would have stabbed me?!"

Steve paused, considering, then answered, "I dunno, maybe. She's never stabbed me."

"I can see why Barnes likes her," Carol grumbled reluctantly. She grabbed his sleeve before he could say anything else and yanked him up beside her. "Tony! I've found someone to sit with you. This is Steve."

Tony, Steve assumed, blinked up at both of them in confusion. His mouth was still open with a forkful of cheesecake halfway toward it. His eyes darted back and forth between them before he finally set is fork back down. "Um?"

Steve couldn't help but gawk. How had he gotten dessert already? The hors d'oeuvres were still out on the main table. Steve had just nervously demolished the last of the crostini. He was still thinking about the steak he'd ordered.

"Jim and I are going to go have a dance," Carol continued, reaching out to grab Jim by the collar and drag him up out of his seat. "I promise we'll be back after three songs."

"Um," Tony said again, and Jim spluttered something about his own dessert, but Carol dragged him away before he could get his feet under him. He and Steve watched them disappear into the crowd milling about the dance floor. Steve almost felt sorry for him.

But then he saw that Jim's dessert was a beautiful piece of chocolate cake with soft pink layers of frosting. "Well, best not to let Jim's plate go to waste," Steve said cheerfully, sitting down in Jim's seat, and pulled the tiny dessert plate closer. He could probably get himself another slice later, after dinner. He had this one, after all.

"Um," Tony said again, frowning in confusion. "You don't. Have to sit with me? I can take care of myself for fifteen minutes."

Steve shrugged. "No offense, but I'm more scared of Carol than I am of you."

Tony swiveled to stare in the direction Carol had disappeared to, then looked back up at him, huffing. "I guess that makes sense." He shifted in his seat awkwardly. "Maybe you can actually get me out of here without drawing attention when you're done with Rhodey's cake."

Steve wondered what that meant, but he'd shoved a huge bite of cake into his mouth at the same time, and by the time he'd chewed and swallowed, Tony was focused on making sure he got the perfect cheese-to-crust ratio in each bite, and waved him away when he tried to ask. He gave off kind of the same vibe Natasha did, and he had several knives nearby for the oncoming dinner service, so Steve focused on his cake.

Tony finished just as Steve was scraping the last of the icing from his plate, and he dabbed at his mouth with his cloth napkin, set it on the table, then clasped his hands in his lap and turned to bat his eyelashes at Steve. "If you can get me onto the balcony without letting anyone talk to me, I will give you a million dollars."

Steve blinked back at him. "That's it?"

"If you can get me to my limo without Rhodey noticing, I'll even make sure he doesn't kill you," Tony offered.

Steve stood, then narrowed his eyes, slowly sinking back into his seat. "I dunno, this is a lieutenant colonel we're talking about."

Tony blinked at him slowly, then simply stated, "Coward."

"Okay," Steve said, lurching back to his feet. He scowled when Tony smirked at him, irritated that he was apparently so readable. He offered Tony his hand.

At that, Tony looked surprised. He glanced back and forth between Steve's hand and face, shoulders drawing in nervously when he slanted a look around them, as if to see who might be watching them. He looked back up at Steve with a frown. "Carol didn't tell you why Rhodey didn't want me alone, did she?"

Steve hesitated, then let his hand drop back to his side, feeling like an idiot. "She barely told me who you were."

Tony looked away, shoulders rising and falling with a heavy sigh. "Oh. Well." He shook his head, then lifted both of his hands from his lap, letting them drop to his sides--

Steve couldn't help the sick feeling forming in his gut as Tony rolled himself back, wheelchair appearing from under the tablecloth. It looked like he still had his legs, but Steve knew looks could be deceiving. And it would be rude to ask, of course. He swallowed thickly. Why would this mean Tony needed to be babysat, though? Unless he was talking about leaving before dinner was even served. He felt like he should have asked Carol more questions, been more assertive, if only to save himself the embarrassment he felt now.

"It's okay," Tony sighed, pushing his chair back under the table so he could hide it with the tablecloth again.

"...I can take you out onto the balcony," Steve said after a brief pause.

Tony shot him an amused smile. "That million just too much to pass up?"

"What? No, I wasn't going to expect it anyway," Steve scoffed. He reached out, wrapping his hands around the handles of Tony's wheelchair. "It would feel like stealing, anyway. It's not gonna be hard."

Tony tipped his head back to raise an eyebrow at him. "Oh yeah? Lots of people have been coming by to talk to me since I got here. I'm sure tons of them will stop us, and--"

"Hold on," Steve said, then braced his feet against the floor.

Tony let out a startled little 'meep' as the chair lurched forward, hands slamming down on the armrests as Steve quickly gained speed. His alarm quickly gave way to delight, though, because then he was throwing his head back, laughing, as Steve sprinted toward the balcony. Most people jumped out of the way, but Steve did end up mowing over a few long skirts. He'd probably get chewed out by Colonel Phillips tomorrow.

But with the genuine delight on Tony's face, he couldn't find it in himself to care that much.

"Oh! Oh," Tony laughed as Steve slowed to a stop next the railing. He put a hand over his chest, lifting the other to wipe a tear away from his eye. "Oh my god. I'm gonna have to pay so many dry cleaning bills."

"Take it outta that million you owe me," Steve replied, leaning back against the railing with a smug smile. "And then give the rest to charity."

"You're crazy," Tony told him, grinning, and he sounded happy still. "Rhodey always told me military guys were crazy, but I never really believed him."

Steve shrugged. "Well. I allegedly once threw myself off a helicopter without a parachute once."

"Allegedly," Tony repeated, shaking his head with what looked like genuine admiration. "How high up was it?"

"Well, I spent a lot of last year pulling off a real good mimicry of Jimmy Stewart from Rear Window," Steve answered, still smiling.

Tony's mouth dropped open into an 'o' of shock. "Are you crazy, or stupid?"

Steve shrugged again. "Yeah." Tony laughed again, from deep in his belly. It was a good look on him, Steve thought, letting his hands drop back to brace on the balcony railing. "So why did Carol think you needed to be babysat?"

He regretted asking immediately. Tony's smile dimmed, and his eyes dropped to his lap. He wrung his hands a couple times, then looked back up at Steve with a sad smile. "Dancing was my favorite part of these events before the accident. I am--I... was good at it. My mother had me in dancing classes since I was six. This is my first big event since..." He motioned at his legs. "I didn't realize how much I would miss it. And Rhodey's such a good friend, he was gonna sit with me the entire time, even though I knew he wanted to dance with Carol."

"That's nice of him," Steve answered carefully. He offered Tony a rueful smile. "I guess it's a good thing she chose me, huh? I can't dance at all."

Tony's expression turned wistful. "I could have taught you. I've taught a lot of people to dance." He looked Steve up and down, gaze turning speculative. "Mostly debutantes. But I was always up for a challenge." His eyes lingered on Steve's feet, then he squinted up at his face. "Those might have hurt my toes more than their stilettos."

Steve blinked, surprised, then couldn't help a bark of laughter. "Wow! Saying I have big feet and calling me fat at the same time."

"You're built like a tank," Tony huffed petulantly. "I'm pretty sure that's why so many people jumped out of the way. A collision with me, oh, well, ouch, but what a great story for the papers. Getting hit by you would have killed them instantly."

"I was probably going too fast," Steve allowed, but he decided he didn't really care. Maybe it would keep him from getting sent to these shindigs. He let his eyes trail over Tony's legs, considering, then dragged his gaze up his body. Tony looked... pretty slight. He wondered how long it had been since his accident. It would be rude to ask though. "Are you ambulatory at all?"

Tony frowned, brows furrowing together in confusion. "Yeah? I mean. I'm still in physical therapy, so. Hopefully I'll. Get more use out of my legs again." He sighed. "Maybe I'll dance again someday. But probably not."

"So it won't hurt you to get out of the chair?" Steve asked, just to be sure.

Tony tipped his head. "...No," he finally answered. "The pain is... secondary to the neurological component."

"Cool," Steve said, standing up from leaning on the railing, and reached out to scoop Tony up into his arms.

Tony yelped, flailing, and threw his arms around Steve's shoulders. "Fuck! Steve! You can't just go around picking disabled people out of their fucking wheelchairs-!"

Steve took a moment to make sure Tony wouldn't squirm out of his grip, carefully adjusting his arms under his knees and behind his shoulders. Once he was certain he had Tony safely in his arms, he straightened his back, then carefully turned in a circle on one heel.

"Did you--" Tony choked out, and he buried his face in Steve's neck. "Did you just twirl me?"

"It's the only dance move I know," Steve answered. He rocked from side to side, then carefully twirled him in another circle. "You could teach me some other moves, if you don't like the twirling."

"No," Tony whispered, and Steve didn't comment on the fact that he could feel him beginning to tremble. "I mean--yes. I can teach you. But I don't... dislike the twirling."

Steve nodded, giving him another spin. "So, are you leaving the party with Colonel Rhodes?"

Tony couldn't quite bite back a laugh, leaning back to smile at Steve. It almost hid how bright his eyes were, how much he blinked to keep tears at bay. "You are about as subtle as a bull in a china shop, Steve."

Steve couldn't help but grin back. "I wasn't trying to be subtle. I just used you as a battering ram."

Tony laughed again, leaning back in. His arms squeezed around Steve's shoulders as his laugh ended in a sort of hiccup. Steve didn't mention it, instead going back to his slow, gentle circles. He was kind of surprised that no one had come after them, but he decided not to think too much on it. Jim would come find them after he and Carol finished dancing. It wasn't as if Steve hadn't left a noticeable trail of scandalized rich people behind him to follow.

[clamenstell]

thinking about lovesick!gojo

- lovesick!gojo who fell in love with you when you held his hand in comfort when he was upset from being scolded by the higher ups about something reckless he did.

- lovesick!gojo who noticed the way you understood that he was still young and even the strongest made mistakes, which is okay as he's still learning.

- lovesick!gojo who started noticing little things about you, like how you pick your nails when nervous, how your eyes light up when talking about your interest, how you tap your pencil in thought when working in class and when you smile, little dimples appear on your cheeks.

- lovesick!gojo who gets butterflies in his stomach whenever you giggle at his terrible jokes while suguru and shoko both roll their eyes in annoyance.

- lovesick!gojo who jokes around even more in order to hear you laugh again, even when the others grow even more tired of him.

- lovesick!gojo who doesn't try to hide how much he wants to hang out with you, who makes up ridiculous excuses to spend time with you. "What do you mean Suguru is busy? Isn't he right there?" "HAHAHA! That's hilarious, let's go somewhere else..." as he drags your form in the opposite way.

- lovesick!gojo who falls even more when you indulge in his teasing. "Need some help?~" You roll your eyes. "I wouldn't want to bother the strongest one~ I'm sure you have better things to do." His grin widens. "It's ok, I don't mind sparing my time for you~"

- lovesick!gojo who tries to impress you everytime you're both assigned on the same mission, showing off at every chance he got and turning his head expectantly to you to see if you were watching him. "Did you see how I exorcised that curse?" "Yes, you did great Satoru.🙄" ":))))"

- lovesick!gojo who feels the pit of jealousy when he sees you conversing with a kyoto student, even more when he sees you laugh at something he said. You were suppose to laugh at his jokes, not a random nobody's.

- lovesick!gojo who appears right by your side in the middle of your conversation, sliding an arm around your waist, pouting and batting his eyelashes. "Baby, I thought we had something special :((( 🥺🥺🥺" "Satoru what the fuck."

- lovesick!gojo who grins in victory when the kyoto guy leaves in panic from seeing the affectionate display, but frowns when you scold him for disturbing your conversation. It doesn't matter, he still won and now your attention is on him instead :)

- lovesick!gojo who loves sharing sweets with you. Whenever he bought pastries from your favourite bakery he will always get extra to share with you. He especially loved seeing your face light up whenever he mentioned getting your favourite pastry.

- lovesick!gojo who gets surprised when you always return the favor, always sharing baked goods you bought, even getting the extra sweet ones just for him.

- lovesick!gojo who's ears turn red at the thought of you buying something just for him, no one else.

- lovesick!gojo who swears he will marry you one day, no matter the circumstance, not even the higher ups would stop him. All he need is to ask you out first, but seeing you chuckle as you two shared a chocolate cake, he thought staying by your side is good enough for now. After all, he's not getting cured from this sickness anytime soon.

he's so 🥺❤️😍🥺🤗😚❤️😳🥰❤️ to me

[sketchy-tour]

MY WELCOME HOME SPOILERS THOUGHTS AND STUFF!

ALL SPOILERS!!!!

AGAIN AUGH OKAY AGAIN WHERE'S MY MAN??? MY MAN ISN'T ON THE FRONT PAGE ANYMORE??? AND WITH WALLY'S EYES LOOKING AWAY ON HIS NEIGHBORHOOD ART??? AND HIS CATCHPHRASE AUDIO BEING PHONE RINGING?? ARE WE TRYING TO CALL HIM??? WHERE ARE YOU, SWEETHEART???

ANYWAY STORYBOOKS

Springtime Salutations!! THE VOICE SOUNDS LIKE SALLY TO ME!!! Which is fitting! The cough?? Sally?? You good??? Oh gee this update is making me so uneasy /pos I assume this isn't "Sally" but it's Sally's in universe VA. Oh gosh maybe the actors aren't okay. of course as ALWAYS THE ART IS SUCH A DELIGHT!!!

ALSO JONESY'S VOICE???? IS SO GOOD!!!!!!! AUGH THEY'RE ALL SO PRETTY!!!!

Sweet Briar Sally voice actress again hello!!!Though its ACTUALLY Sally I think! ALSO ITS THE WALLY KING STORY YIPPEEEEEE Not me getting actually a little emotional seeing Wally with a baby. ALSO DID THAT SOUND LIKE HOWDY JUST SLAPPING THE SHIT OUTTA BARNABY!? I love all the characters I love Howdy being unable to say "take the day off"

okay but this is the funniest ever. Howdy??? Did you draw that??? Wally losing his place in the script. His little voice. I'm gonna sob. I love him sm. Also Julie waking up before the kiss is so silly. She really said "AAAAND IM UP!!!"

The Julie Guide to Being Joyful Won't say much with this one other than the art is super cute like always! Wally learning emotions is so sweet. But uh-

I don't think my beloved is feeling very joyful....

The board game!!! The food section!! All so fun and silly!!! Rainbow monster cakes looking like sheep melts my heart! AND THE CRISPY SWEETS ART IS SO SWEET

We're all gonna make a rainbow monster right??? Thats gonna be a new thing right??? I hope its a thing ALSO THE SONG BY THE JOYFULS IS ACTUALLY A BANGER FR FR AUGH!!!!!! Also the fact the art of the record confirms rainbow monsters are furry IS SO GOOD IM SPINNING!!!!!

A Darling Broadcast As I said before he sounds WAY more energetic here to me. He just does. Something about this just has more cadence to me. He's still monotonous but its just...its different! But gosh his voice still just melts my heart regardless! Also man, Frank is CONSTANTLY called the grouchiest neighbor and yet he just isn't is he? I mean, sure, he is compared to everyone else I suppose. But when he's with Julie, hell when he's with Poppy too, hes so sweet and silly. And I love that about him. I love that Frank isn't just mean. I love him. My platonic bestie westie. Oh I should put him down as a platonic f/o fr. I adore he. ANYWAY- Speaking of f/os, if there isn't more self ships with the other joyfuls soon I will riot.

Secrets Oh god. Okay so Ringring was the first one I got to cause I heard the call audio on the toy phone for Wally was different. He keeps saying we. Oh Wally. Also augh one of the videos again mentions not being outside after dark. AND JULIE OH GOD WHATS HAPPENING WITH JULIE. JULIE BABY GIRL. I dunno if I got to all the links. I ALMOST FORGOT TO GO LOOK AT AWAY FROM PRYING EYES TOO!!!! W WAIT NO W DONT DRINK THE OLD ASS SODA WAIT STOP-

ANYWAY HI NOTHING GOOD IS HAPPENING!!! NOTHING AT ALL!!! God reading that W doesn't like his flash. Reading that he's living in the dark like this. I wanna know SO much more about him. I NEED TO. I need to know what exactly he is in the story. I have theories! I DO! Especially with all the voice acting swaps that's been happening. But I'll keep those to myself for the time being!!!!

[pedge-page]

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife: Snacks for the Pack

Joel miller x F!Reader

Warnings: some family fluff 🤎

Notes: guys my sister and I moved into our own house, but our dad stops by almost every day to drop something off or fix something in our house, ans he usually brings us something like coffee and bubble yea. It didn't occur to us that we expected it till he came one day and didn't bring us a snacky, and we were disappointed. Thus: this fic is born!

- - - -

Ok, so here's the thing about your Joel. He's so selfless and always thinking about his family, he never consciously realizes it. And that can be a great thing... until you create a pack of spoiled girls in the house who know not what it feels like to not be spoiled 24/7.

So now you, Sarah, Spoon, and Ellie heard the garage, and all subconsciously got up from your spots in the house, lined up at the door, and waited for Joel to come in. He's on the phone when he does, but gives each one of his ladies (even Spoon) a kiss on the head.

But then he just. Keeps walking in. Closes the garage. Drops his keys on the table, and goes straight for his office.

And then four of his duckling family shuffle behind him on cue, in height order of you, Sarah, Spoon, and little Ellie. Eager and patiently awaiting.

He sits down and finishes his call before rubbing his face and opening his laptop. It takes a moment before he realizes 8 eyeballs anxiously staring at him from the doorway. Even Spoon was licking her chops in anticipation.

"Uhhh... can I help you ladies?"

You look very perplexed. "Did you... need help unloading the car?"

"Uh... no. There's nothing left in the truck....?"

"Nothing. Not even like... in the cup holders... or...." you twirl your fingers, hoping it'll suddenly click that he simply put it... somewhere else of course!

Joel's at a complete loss. Did he forget an anniversary? Birthday gift? He didn't say anything before he left to drop off the package at the post office. Yet here you all were with big, pleading eyes expecting something from him.

"You didn't. Get us anything," you say, coming to the disappointing conclusion.

"Wha--no. Was i supposed to? I'm sorry, I dont remember if you had asked"

Well no, we ... never ask but you always just. Bring us a little treat--" God you felt stupid standing here like pavlov's dog trained to salivate when your husband got home.

Honestly he TRAINED you all to be like this!

See, when you were pregnant and suddenly craving snackies every day, Joel got into the habit of just always bringing you something whenever he would come home. A latte, coffee, bubble tea, hot pretzel, frozen slushie, milkshake etc. So much so that you'd feel like you were wagging your imaginary tail and rushing off the couch every time you heard the garage, and eagerly give him a kiss when he presented you with the daily snack.

Well then Sarah came along. He still brought snacks home for you now out of habit, and Sarah got to the point where she'd take a sip or bite from yours. So daddy coming home was very exciting for her indeed. Like a little reward.

But then you got pregnant again. And suddenly sharing ANYTHING with your little girl kinda irked you. So Joel had the very great intuition of just getting her a little something for herself.

Spoon also saw the two of you constantly approaching the door and being rewarded when Joel would come home, so she'd sit patiently, and Joel started bringing little dog treats or pup cups for her too.

Then Ellie came along, and she wasn't much for coffee, but she DID love the little cake pops that the bakery sold.

Joel curls his brows. Thinking about it, he guess he DID usually come home with something, but he never really sets out with intention most days. It's kinda just... a stop along the way. Today he didn't pass a coffee shop so it didn't even occur to him that--

"Daddy, no cake pop?" Baby Ellie asks in his soft, high, sweet little sad voice, twisting her hips with her pouty lips. Her eyes welled up all shiny as if on the brink of tears.

His entire heart shatters in that moment.

Door, keys, ignition, gas.

15 minutes later and Joel is back, balancing an iced coffee, Tea latte, pup cup of whipped cream, and a few cake pops on sticks. You each grabbed what is intended for you ans give him a fat kiss on the cheek before returning to your corners of the house.

Joel blushes with a barely contained grin.

- - - -

Taglist

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow @wintersquirrel @fluffygoffpanda @picketniffler @bbyanarchist @jeewrites

[fanfiction4sooya]

Omg hi 🙊 hello. Can we get more g!p hybrid Yunjin x reader plssss I’m weak for that girl istg

Hi darling, thank you for waiting for so long (and my bad)!! Here it is, I hope you like it 💖💖

cw: noncon, dubcon, hybrid yunjin, g!p, unprotected sex, cuss words, etc;

It was the fifth night of you coming home and going straight to bed, Yunjin recalled. You got home with a new scent all these nights, feeling so desperate to go to bed after hours of studying with your new study partner Chaewon (another dog hybrid). And after that you still had your internship at the hospital to put icing on the cake.

You didn't realize how the puppy started scenting you whenever you were together, trying to control her tail wagging and her boner whenever you leaned forward to help her with some math problem, or how she'd slightly growl when you mentioned your beautiful golden retriever at home. Your pride and joy, Huh Yunjin.

Yunjin realized the faint scent on you when you kissed her goodnight on the first night, getting confused by it. She called her friend the other day, a wolf hybrid called Kazuha.

"I don't know, I think she might be fucking this other hybrid" She said, scoffing. Yunjin whined, her ears flat on her head thinking of such thing. "I say you should claim her"

"Claim her?" The gold retriever asked, interested about the topic.

"Yes, fuck her raw and rough, make her carry your puppies" The wolf said, almost growling. "don't be such a good girl all the time, do what your instincts tell you" She continued. "And if she tells you that's not true you can't trust her, she might be lying..."

But that wasn't what her instinct was telling her. She wanted to cry and ask you what she did wrong or something of the sort, not 'claim you'. But of course she listened to her friend, not really putting into thought that a wolf and a golden retriever have quite different opinions in a lot of topics.

So she waited, trying to be brave for once.

You, as usual since the night you came home with another scent, went straight to bed ater your shower, not really minding getting dressed, wrapping yourself in your soft comforter and kissing your girlfriend goodnight, not realizing how cold she was towards you.

Deeply asleep with your face on the pillow, you couldn't feel the covers sliding off of you or how she stared at your back and your bare ass, her cock twitching inside her briefs thinking of someone else's cum dripping from you. She grunted, feeling more animalistic than ever before, the doubt leaving her mind as soon as that desperate need to mark her territory grew inside of her chest.

Quickly she straddled your body, your tired mind not really picking on what she was doing.

"Puppy... I'm really tired today" You groaned, feeling her hard cock pressed against your butt. Usually that would be enough to stop her. Key word: Usually.

"I don't care" She husked, straightening her back to pull her cock out and stroke it, spitting on it. You frowned about to turn around but her knees held your body in place. "You are mine" She growled, biting your back. "I'm gonna show you and everyone you are mine"

"Yunjin!" You exasperatedly said, hissing. "That hurt" You cried out, trying to push her off of you but she wouldn't budge.

"You hurt me" She said, biting again but harder, humping your ass and groaning in your ear.

"Baby- what?" You tried to reason with her because she was in fact larger and stronger than you, trying to fight her would be useless. "Baby, tell me what happened" You hissed because she bit you again, licking your back afterwards in this sloppy way. Hungry and rough, her wet and rock hard cock pressing against your naked ass.

You were supposed to feel bad, feel angry or sad but you were... empathetic? Why was she so agitated? Why would she say you hurt her? You tried really had to think of anything but the next thing you knew her cock was violently pushed inside your pussy.

You screamed onto the pillow, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as you felt the second and third violent thrusts and Yunjin mumble a low 'fuck' right by your ear. That was making you doubt so many things: why was she acting like that? How could she do such thing to you and most importantly...

Why were you enjoying it?

"You are mine" She repeated, her body flushed against yours, her boobs pressed against your back. "I'm gonna fill your pussy so good" She blindly said, her hips moving in this fast pace now, your skin quickly warming up against hers. "You are going to carry my pups, our beautiful pups"

You moaned, biting the pillow. Yunjin was particularly big, her perfectly proportioned body literally all big.

"Fucking hell" You moaned, your pussy beautifully welcoming her dick, swallowing the whole thing as you grew wetter for her.

"God baby, you like it when I take you like this?" She moaned when you clenched, her tip hitting your womb just good. Yunjin straightened her back, releasing your arms from your sides.

Pulling you up by the hips she positioned you in a sitting position, your arms stretched out to hold on the headboard as you sat on her lap, her cock stretching you even better this way.

Yunjin hugged you against her, one of her big hands rolling your nipple as the other rubbed your clit, her hips never stopping or even falttering as she kept that relentless pace. You rolled your eyes, the gutural moan that left your throat felt even more violent as you felt yourself getting closer to the edge, your walls squeezing her cock in this delicious way, silently begging for her to stay inside you.

"Yunjinie" You cried out and she groaned, pushing you to turn around. You were straddling her, but now you could see how hurt she was. You frowned, kissing her lips as tears rolled down her beautiful face. You could feel the desperation, the rawness of her feelings fully displayed in her beautiful and ever so expressive gaze.

"No one can take you away from me" Her voice sounded small, her lips ghosting yours as she kept impaling you on her cock;your moans mixed with hers felt so good, intimate beyond words.

Her ears were flat on her head, that made your heart ache.

"I am yours baby" You breathed out, hugging her against you to hide your face in the curve of her neck. "Fuck- N-no one can take me from you, Yunjin" You said, her hands gripping your hips impossibly harder made you finally lose it, squirting all over her lower region and biting hard on her shoulder.

Yunjin screamed out, eyes closed as she painted your insides with her thick semen, grunting and moaning as she kept pushing and pulling your hips to meet hers; the sound, the smell... everything combined made your head spin.

After a while she slowed her movements, hands still on your waist but now she was pulling you to her, her hug suffocantely strong. She was crying.

No, not crying. She was bawlling her eyes out.

You cooed, now fully aware that she was back to her soft persona as her sniffles made her whole body shake with certain violence; you let her cry, petting her hair and slowly rocking her back and forth. It took a while for her to calm down enough, her eyes puffy and nose red, her tail tucked in shame.

"I am so sorry" She started saying but you shushed her, kissing her forehead.

"There's no need, baby" You said. "Now tell me what's going on, please" And so she did, telling you how she started feeling Chaewon's scent on you and how neglected she felt because you were always with the other hybrid.

You took her story, nodding so she would know your attention was 100% on her to make sure she woudln't feel even more neglected. When she finished talking you took a deep breath, guilt slowly creeping up in your chest.

"I am so sorry I neglected you, my love" You held her face with both hands, staring into her beautiful brown eyes. "I promise I had no idea Chaewon was doing that, if I had known she wouldn't be my partner anymore" You caressed her fluffy ears and her tail wagged really fast.

"Can you get rid of her?" Yunjin sniffed and you nodded.

"Anything for my puppy" You cooed and she smiled, hiding her face on your chest. "Am I forgiven, Yunjinie?" You voice dropped an octave and she thickly swallowed. You only called her that when you were horny.

You felt how her cock started to get hard again and you pulled it out, watching her cum ooze out of you and her cock twitched. You held her face between your fingers, her eyes locking with yours as you licked her lips in a upwards motion.

"Now I am the one who needs to forgive you for fucking me without my consent, pretty thing" Lust filled your body thinking of the many possibilities ahead. "Maybe today is the day I'll fuck your virgin little hole, baby..."

"Yes, please" She breathed out, her cock twitching in need.

"Good girl" You slowly jerked her off. "Now go fetch that big strap and some lube puppy, I'm gonna prepare your pretty hole for me" You said and her tail wagged in excitement as she quickly got up to do as you said.

[ifishouldvanish]

"The devil is easy to cheat."

So... I keep thinking about Mizrak and Emmanuel's conversation in the churchyard in S2E3, where Mizrak tries to appeal to Emmanuel to repent and turn against Bàthory. It's an interesting one, and worth a rewatch or two or three or seven. But the more I chew on it, the more I keep going back to the dialogue in the finale. Back to That Whole Scene™. Just, feeling this itch that there's something there. Some kind of dots to connect. And I think I'm ready to synthesize my thoughts here.

In episode 3, Emmanuel tells Mizrak, "You wouldn't question me if you'd glimpsed what I have of the other side. If you heard it sometimes in the twilight. Quiet laughter. Hell. Waiting. Whispering your name."

The laughter part is interesting, right? Like he's clearly describing Old Man Coyote/Mephistopheles. But of course to Mizrak/the audience at this point, it's the Capital 'D' Devil—or at least his own guilty conscience driving him mad. But then Maria kills him, and we actually see Old Man Coyote collect his soul.

Anyway.

Later on in S2E7, when Mizrak gets hurt, Old Man Coyote appears again. And he's laughing, and Mizrak knows that laughter must be what Emmanuel was talking about. Must be the devil. He must be damned.

So let's hop back to the finale, to the scene where Olrox turns him. Mizrak asks him, "You've seen the devil then? Waiting for me?

And Olrox tells him, "No, not the devil."

Because he knows it's not the Capital 'D' Devil, but Old Man Coyote/Mephistopheles.

But he also says, "And I think he was waiting for someone else."

I am absolutely convinced that "someone else" is Olrox himself.

Because let us go back to S2E5, when Olrox returns to the Night Creature-O-Matic. He's studying the book, and Old Man Coyote/Mephistopheles appears. Olrox says:

"I know what promises you make, and how tempting they are. And I could make good use of a powerful patron. But this doesn't belong in this world. And nor do you."

At this, Old Man Coyote leaves. This scene establishes that Old Man Coyote is trying to get Olrox to barter with him. But Olrox is clearly not willing to in exchange for whatever promise of power Old Man Coyote is tempting him with.

I am absolutely convinced that when Mizrak gets wounded, Old Man Coyote is waiting for Olrox. Expecting that if he wasn't willing to barter his soul in exchange for power, surely he will for love. Surely he'll give in and strike a deal in exchange for Mizrak's life.

So. Back to the Turning Scene. Again.

Olrox's insistence that it's not the devil, that he was waiting for someone else probably sounds to Mizrak like he's just trying to comfort him in his last moments. He kinda brushes it off with, "Still. The devil will be waiting. [...] I'm afraid, Olrox."

Which brings us to:

"There's no need to be afraid, my love. Not the devil, at least. The devil is easy to cheat."

I think Olrox's use of "the devil" here is him basically adopting the name Mizrak knows this entity by. Mizrak understands Old Man Coyote to be the devil, so he's using that language so Mizrak will understand: There's no need to be afraid of the "devil" he sees/hears. That "devil" is easy to cheat.

On first viewing, this read to me as, "You, Mizrak, can cheat the devil, and I'm going to help you. You can't die and go to hell if you're immortal."

But on subsequent viewings, it reads to me as, "I, Olrox, can cheat the devil. I can have my cake and eat it too. By turning you, I get what I want (to keep you alive/not lose you) without having to pay the devil's price."

Which I LOVE, because it makes it all sooooo much more messy. The former lets you squint your eyes and shrug and say, "Yeah, it's not exactly a GOOD thing that Olrox turned him, but what else was he supposed to do?? Mizrak was gonna go to super hell!!"

But the latter??? Ohohohoooo man.

Mizrak wasn't actually about to be sentenced to eternal damnation (that we or Olrox know of, at least). The devil wasn't waiting for him. The devil was waiting for someone else and Olrox KNEW THIS and still turned him. Not to protect Mizrak's soul/life, but to spare himself the pain of losing the man he loves again.

I've seen it said that the reason Olrox just lies back as Mizrak climbs over and bites him is because he expects that Mizrak will be upset about being turned, at least initially. But how much more appropriate does this body language become through the lens of a much deeper sense of guilt over what he's done? Of a subconscious need to punish, self-sacrifice, or otherwise try to absolve himself of that guilt? To "pay the price" on his own terms, so to speak?

And maybe Mizrak will be convinced he was going to super hell. Maybe this belief will bring him to sort of begrudgingly accept his new life as a vampire. But it will be a secret that casts a shadow over their every interaction for eternity. How long can Olrox keep that secret? How will Mizrak react should it ever to come to light? How badly will it hurt when Olrox loses him anyway—not because of death, but because his own scheme, once exposed, will likely prove to be a betrayal their relationship can never recover from???

[kaiser1ns]

BOY IN LUV ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ ITOSHI SAE X FEM!READER .ᐟ you make me so angry and mad for no reason. i'm serious, but you make me into a loser who picks fights with you. why do i care so much about you? you're making a big boy act like a little kid but I'm going to flip the situation, from friends to lovers.

GO TO THE EVENT MASTERLIST

Your profile picture is the same, but why does Itoshi Sae keep checking it? He sees you every day, why is it so different now? Even if he ignores you or acts cold, he can’t push you out of his mind. Five minutes until the clock strikes midnight, and for some reason, he's confused but also angry. So many questions as to why, how, and what but never a clear answer. He is getting nervous, but don’t misunderstand, he is not an easy guy. Pathetic. Who are you? Are you that great? 

yn: are you free tomorrow?

He saw your text message, but he isn’t pressing send. He suddenly froze and blinked as the phone screen went off, just like his mind, because for someone called a genius, he can’t make sense of this and the way you are shaking up his heart.

yn: sae, i know you are free~ so let’s go somewhere tomorrow night, my treat okay?

Why do you keep teasing him? Playing mind games? Two-timing? He is serious, but you make him into a loser who picks fights with you. Why does he care so much about you? You're making a big boy act like a little kid.

Sae is used to controlling things exactly as he plans. But now, he is standing in front of your door, a bunch of expensive chocolate bars in his hand, and he doesn’t even know why. Midnight has come and gone, and instead of ignoring your texts like he intended, he’s here.

Leaving you on read, hoping the silence would speak for itself. But it made it more confusing for him. The midfielder saw the way you’d tease him with emojis and little jokes, you'd nudge him to join you somewhere or try a new spot in the city. Usually, he'd find a way to brush it off, his replies short and dry, or nonexistent. But tonight? Tonight, his feet took him down familiar streets, past the corner store, until he was at the counter, holding a bar of chocolate he knew you'd like. 

He notices things about you he’d never let himself notice before—your expression, the flirting in your messages, the way you manage to be less annoying than anyone else who decides to talk to him. Say and do whatever you want, he ... he never had a problem with you. Always near him, even if he didn't want you to be.

The moment you open the door, eyes widening in surprise, he feels… something. Maybe it’s the way you look at him, surprised but pleased, or the way the midnight air feels charged between you. You glance down at the chocolate bar, one eyebrow raised, silently questioning him.

“Sae…?”

He almost rolls his eyes, but his hand extends forward. “Happy birthday,” he mumbles, almost cold. He doesn’t even know if that’s what he’s supposed to say, and what did he actually have to tell you? I don't know why you make me feel this way and do such ridiculous things, but here's the chocolate, and now please leave me alone because I don't know what to think when I'm next to you. His heart is racing, and he has no idea why he suddenly thought this was a good idea.  

Your smile makes something bubble inside him, something hot melting his icy shield. You step aside, letting him in, and as the door clicks shut behind him, he follows you into your living room. It’s decorated a little bit, but nothing fancy. A happy birthday sign, candy, and a picture of the two of you as kids that sat on the cabinet above the TV. He raised an eyebrow at the picture, it was from your birthday again, but as kids. He's got cake cream all over his nose and cheeks while the cream is on your fingers and you're giving the peace sign and smiling and he's still grumpy. Sae remembers how you kissed his cheek afterward, and it felt disgustingly nice.

“So to what can I owe your surprising visit, Mr. Prodigy?”

He’s silent and tense, but his heart races as you settle next to him on the couch, close enough that you lean your head on his shoulder as his hand drifts to rest on yours, fingers barely brushing yours, but it’s enough. He pretends not to notice how his hand starts to drift closer, how the warmth from your skin seeps into his.

"I didn’t feel like waiting till tonight," he murmurs, voice softer than usual, though his usual coldness is still held in his gaze. But his hand is another story—it’s more insistent, slowly interlacing his fingers with yours as though he’s grounding himself. "Don’t make me say it," he grumbles, eyes fixed ahead, but his thumb brushes over your knuckles in soft, deliberate circles. He pretends not to notice, but it’s clear—you got this man being impatient like a little kid. You’re both completely whipped for each other, so how about flipping the situation, from friends to lovers?

©2024 kaiser1ns nineteenth birthday party.