#and it seemed like it will work out and was a better option

[grimmbane]

Yeah, I went the opposite way in my fic. In my fic, there's werewolves, vampires, and humans all over Piltover and Zaun, the main difference is how they're treated. Piltover oppresses werewolves and vampires heavily while Zaun is very open and accepting of werewolves and vampires considering their founding.

I would have made Mel a werewolf in my fic since Ambessa is one, but per the lore of my AU, due to the influence of the Arcane/magic in her, she's a human. I decided that werewolves are more magic based than vampires ofc and i guess slightly different than the Arcane magic so the werewolf magic cannot enact on the Arcane so Mel never becomes a werewolf.

Which is also why Piltover seems more hostile to werewolves as Piltover distrusts/dislikes magic so werewolves are seen as more of a threat than vampires

I'll go more into my lore below the cut. It's still a wip and subject to change.

A lot ofwerewolves in Piltover usually work as Enforcers. It's framed as one of the few jobs actively accepting werewolves, especially during pre-independance Zaun as Piltover is highly prejudiced against werewolves and vampires. But vampire traits are easier to hide than werewolf traits.

So werewolves tend to have difficulty finding jobs due to the full moon transformations. (However, vampires tend to get worse PR) Most of Piltover's werewolf enforcers are assigned to Zaun because of Zaun's werewolf (and vampire) population and the amount of unregistered werewolves. Piltovan werewolves are required to wear collars while in wolf for, and there are a lot of restrictions against shifting in public/being in wolf or half-form. Werewolves are typically shown less mercy in the courts. Very few if any houses have werewolves, the exception being House Talis and probably others I don't know about, but most werewolves are not of Houses, especially not noble.

Piltovan werewolves, however, tend to see themselves as above Zaunite werewolves and tend to see them as feral and violent.

The dissolving of Piltover's Underground werewolf Enforcers unit is actually what causes the rise in Piltover's growing underground and that underground's animosity towards Zaun which we see in "Champion" eventually leads to the invention of "Glimmer" as a Shimmer knockoff and attempt to incite hostilities as part of the agreement between Zaun and Piltover is that Shimmer would not be allowed to be distributed in Piltover.

Vampires are typically more hidden in Piltover and more hush hush, even more fractured than the vampire factions of Piltover before Silco unified them, a step to helping them rebel. However Piltovan laws make it extremely difficult for vampires to get blood because blood parlours are illegal, forcing more Piltovan vampires to buy from Zaun's blood parlours or outright move to Zaun. Most vampires that do live in Piltover are either rich enough or have humans close enough to them to get blood from.

Rations between werewolves and vampires are even worse in Piltover than in Zaun, even worse than how things had been before Silco and Vander rose to power. As they both see each other as rivals and with envy as they believe the other to have things "better" but their both getting the short end of the sticks

Most of Piltover's upperclass and elite are still solidly human. There may be a few vampire and werewolf Houses but tend to be lower class and rarely get any marriage prospects out of fear/distrust.

And in the first chapter of "Champion", we see how many beliefs the humans have about werewolves and vampires that are plainly untrue/lies and also like seeing "Zaunite Vampires" and "Piltovan Vampires" are practically viewed as separate species

There's also the "Piltover has no ides of the existence of hybrids" and Viktor goes to some lengths to pass as a vampire (noting there wasn’t a "hybrid" option on the paperwork) as he's a hybrid but with more vampire traits.

The Arcane fandom loves a vampire/werewolf dynamic but sometimes it’s so obvious the only thought going into it is “rich = vampire, poor = werewolf”

What do you MEAN you think Mel wolf-metaphor, inherited violence Medarda would be the VAMPIRE??? I’m going to die

[sariyastars]

🕷 Silk and Shadows

I. Shattered Threads

Pairing: Older! Damian Wayne x Spider! Reader Synopsis: While fighting a multiversal anomaly, Spiderlily is thrown into a city of shadows. With their Gizmo shattered and no way home, they discover Gotham’s dangers are far greater than they ever imagined. But giving up is not an option, because with great power, comes great responsibility. TW: Violence, Anxiety, Light Injury, Threatening Creatures, & Disorientation Word Count: 3,601

The city lights of New York had begun to flicker on, as the sun slowly fell over the building's horizons. For the past week, you have been running on pure willpower. Between starting university, working, maintaining a personal life, and keeping up with New York as the friendly neighborhood Spiderlily, it has been difficult to say the least. You loved your life, but being (y/n) and Spiderlily was beyond demanding. 

Bells of the cafe chimed, as you turned to greet the customer. While attending New York University, you worked at a local cafe part-time to help with the bills. The cafe was a small and cozy place, just off of a corner 10 minutes away from NYU. As you lift your head up from wiping the counters, you see your two best friends bounce in. 

Lenora Peterson, better known as Leni, has light brown medium-length hair that curls just a bit at the ends and big golden brown eyes that somehow always seem to have a mischievous glint to them. Leni is the crazy engineer type. She has quite the passion for crafting things and trying out new scientific experiments that should probably be considered illegal. You guessed that being a Mechanical Engineer major allowed her to create such strange machinery whenever she pleased. 

Hanley Munoz, also known as LeyLey, stands at 5'10" with fluffy brown hair styled to the side. His green eyes, often framed by his black thick rimmed glasses, are calculating. Kind but never sure. Hanley was never great with social cues and is trusting to a fault, but is incredibly intelligent despite this. Majoring in Biochemistry, he dedicates most of his time playing lacrosse for the NYU team. 

And then there was you. NYU Biophysics major and local spider-hero. The three of you were like the Three Stooges. Ever since middle school, you were always seen together and rarely ever apart. Participating in multiple different science fairs and other events together. However, you never wanted to involve them in your private life as Spiderlily. It did not take long for Leni to figure out your identity, but Hanley still has not yet seemed to catch on. His lack of awareness played well for you, and you planned to keep it that way. 

Although, ever since Leni has found out about Spiderlily, she began to self-proclaim herself as your ‘man in the chair’. While you were adamantly against this for a while, she ended up becoming one of your greatest assets. She has helped you improve and fix your gadgets when you didn’t have the time. She’s guided you through the city countless times. She has even made your spidersuit. Now, Leni was no seamstress. Except for when the fabric involves vibranium. How she managed to get her hands on a vibranium custom spider suit for you is beyond your comprehension. You’ve learned it’s best not to ask her these kinds of questions. Especially when it's handed to you on such a nice silver platter. 

The smell of coffee washes over you once again as you place your cleaning rag off to the side of the counter. Both Leni and Hanley make their way up to the register to greet you. 

“And how may I help you guys today?”, you ask playfully, meeting them at the front register with your hands on the counter and your head tilted to the side. 

“Our usuals please, madam.”, Leni retorts back in a terrible fake British accent. Her arm is slung around Hanley’s left one, whose hands are in his pocket. His Lacrosse bag is slung on his right arm, along with his school bag. The two both seem tired from the day, but Leni seems to be a bit more energetic as she is tugging Hanley back and forth as she sways.

You note the tired eyes Hanley has while he attempts to stifle a yawn. Presumably exhausted from his classes and Lacrosse practice. You look over to Leni who is now pulling out her wallet. Guess it was her turn to spot for coffee.

As you type up their usual coffee orders, you read it out loud to them- “So, that’ll be one blended medium vanilla frap and one extra large salted caramel cold brew.”.

“Oh! Can you add 5 extra shots to my cold brew.”, Leni quickly pipes in.

You look up at her with a stoic stare. “You’re joking. Right?”

“No, I have some essays I have to suffer through tonight for English 1301, and our personal project I want to complete.”, Leni finishes with an obvious wink at you. Hinting at the new spider gadgets she has been working on for the past week.

“What? You got something in your eye?”, Hanley questions, turning his head to Leni with a weird look of confusion.

You both are so lucky Hanley is as oblivious as he is. Truly.

Your eyes roll at this as you let out a soft chuckle. “Legally, no. Cold brews are already at max level of caffeine and it would be illegal for me to add any more. So, no.”

Leni scowls at your response, her lips pursing together in thought. “Can you leave some space in the cup and give me 5 shots on the side?”

You both stare at each other for what seems like a long moment. You are lucky the cafe is not busy at this hour. 

“Fine.”, you state while typing it into the system, your face still deadpan before letting out a soft smile. Leni cheered at this and tapped her card on the card reader. 

“What? No tip?”, you tease her again. She playfully sticks her tongue out at you, while Hanley begins to pull out a couple bucks from his wallet and drops it into your tip jar.

“Thank you, HANLEY.”, you emphasize his name. Leni laughs at this and begins to drag Hanley towards their usual table. Hanley grunts in response, as if saying ‘no problem’, as he allows himself to get dragged away from the counter. You laugh as well and begin to turn away to work on their drinks. You were the only barista for the closing night shift today. 

After handing Leni and Hanley their drinks, you lean against the counter as you all chat about your days. Leni is venting about her English 1301 essay she needs to complete. One hand is holding her coffee, that she had poured the 5 extra shots of espresso into, and the other is waving around in the air. “It’s 2 pages TOO long.”, she sighs exasperatedly. Drama queen.

On the other hand, Hanley is mostly quiet. Listening intently to Leni while sipping his vanilla frappuccino. He speaks about his coach and his teammates once in a while, but his schedule remains relatively consistent compared to Leni. 

You love moments like these. Where it’s just the three of you without the weight of anything else on your shoulders. No NYU scholarship kid. No Spiderlily. Just (y/n), and their best friends. 

The cafe is quiet now, with only the three of you left. It is 8pm, just about closing time. You sigh softly, now beginning the closing routine. As you clean up the cafe, you glance over to Leni, who’s sketching something on a napkin, and Hanley, who’s absorbed in his phone. Just for a moment, everything feels normal. 

With the closing routine completed, you lock the cafe up. The metallic click of the lock hit your ears, signaling that the door was properly closed and secure for the night. Leni stood beside you, watching as you locked the door, while Hanley stood a couple steps farther away- adjusting his bags on his shoulders. 

Just as you had removed your key from the lock and turned to face them, your Gizmo buzzed on your wrist, notifying you of yet another anomaly. You quickly glance at the watch that was now lighting up beneath your hoodie’s sleeve. Ignoring the watch, you give Leni a knowing look before glancing over to Hanley who was now yawning. His breath was visible with the cold crisp air. 

“Heyyy, oh my gosh. Completely forgot. I have a huge project to work on tonight that I really need to focus on. Rain check on our study group tonight?”, you ask hesitantly while slowly backing up, ready to run to your apartment.

Leni, always being your cover, quickly grabs Hanley’s arm and begins dragging him in the opposite direction. “Yep! No worries, Hanley and I can just work on other stuff. Isn’t that right, Leyley.”

Before Hanley can respond, Leni is already pulling him farther away. His eyebrows are scrunchies in confusion, but is accepting of his fate. Leni waves in your direction as the two slowly get farther and farther away.

“Bye! We’ll see you tomorrow!”, she waves excitedly. Hanley looks back as well, throwing up a small wave and smile.

Once the two were far enough, you rapidly whip yourself around and book it towards your apartment. The cold air was sharp against your face as you ran home. While running, you pull back the sleeve of your hoodie to read your Gizmo that was continuing to buzz for your attention.

ATTENTION: ANOMALY DETECTED- HIGH PRIORITY

The screen flickered with a brief glitch, just for a moment, before the alert stabilized. Your heart sped up a bit more and a knot tightened in your chest. “High priority?”, you whispered to yourself, your breath visible in the cold air. It has been a long while since you had such an urgent anomaly from the Spider-Society. You were grateful Leni was able to pull Hanley away so efficiently. 

Busting into your apartment, your bag tumbled across the room as you swung yourself into your bedroom. You quickly rip your spidersuit from your hidden wardrobe compartment and throw it on. The suit is sleek and form-fitting. Vibrant crimson web lines flow out from the center of your chest, with patterns similar to that of a spider lily at the base of your boots. Your spider logo is black, like the rest of your suit, with scarlet accents and covers a majority of your chest and shoulders with its long legs and stylized body. 

With a quick tug on your mask, you flatten the fabric around your neck and head towards your back apartment window. It creaks as you push it open, letting a gust of the cold night’s air. Luckily you could not feel much of it through the suit, as it was well insulated with its own warmer. You hop over the window’s sill, gripping to the wall, and push it back shut.

Dangling off of the wall, 5 stories up in the air, you check your Gizmo again to locate the anomaly. Downtown. Not terribly far. 

You jumped off of the building and shot a string of web from your wrist, your body twisting as you glided through the city. The New York’s city lights twinkled around you as you flipped past each window. As much as you loved to admire your city, you couldn’t help but focus on the alert on your wrist. A high-priority anomaly was never an easy night. They were world destroying. You had to take care of this anomaly and fast. 

As you swung into the heart of the city, the air and your chest felt heavier. It was almost suffocating. You jumped up, landing on a nearby building of the location, and found the anomaly. It was a large, iridescent vortex of crackling energy. The area around it was distorted, almost as if it was being sucked into it. The vortex pulsed and projected streaks of colors that flickered erratically. 

Your jaw became slightly ajar at the sight, as a dark clawed hand gripped the vortex’s edge. Almost as if it was trying to pry itself out from its gravitational pull. Soon enough, the shadow ripped itself from the vortex. Its body glitched erratically, similarly to that of the vortex itself. It had no distinct features, just the empty silhouette of a creature, and eyes that were nothing but narrow slits. The creature howled, its voice raspy and defective. 

“Jesus Christ.”, you muttered.

Just as you spoke, another clawed creature ripped itself from the vortex that was soon followed by another. Within just moments, multiple of these shadows had clambered through. You swallowed hard, examining the situation. 

“God… Ah, fuck it.”

You flick your wrist, shooting yourself to the closest shadow creature. They had begun to scramble down the street. With a quick dive, you drive your feet into the nearest creature. Curb stomping them as hard as you could. The creature screeched at the impact before glitching bright colors and dispersing into a black mist.

“One down… One too many to go…”, you say looking at your surrounding vicinity that was now infected with these things. 

You barely get a moment before another shadow lunges at you from behind. Your spidey sense had activated, causing you to jump up quickly. Its claws sliced the concrete street that you were just standing on a second ago, leaving a large scratch mark ingrained into it. You managed to land on a light post, but another lunged at you off of the nearby building. Your body twisted as you jumped, attempting to dodge all of these creatures' attacks. Just one hit might render you unconscious. 

Hanging on the side of a metal balcony, you watch as three more creatures advance toward you. While there were no distinctive figures to them, it almost felt as if they were predators- hunting their prey. Their eyes were locked onto you. Their movements seemed calculated, oddly robotic, and trained onto you. 

The first shadow attacked from below, scaling up the building quickly- tearing into the brick as it raced up. You jumped off of the creaky metal balcony, getting away just in time before webbing yourself up towards another building. As you jumped, you twisted your body around to shoot a web directly at its supposed face. The web hit, covering its face in the sticky strands. It immediately reached up to claw it off of its face, releasing the creature from the building and causing it to fall. A glitchy hiss echoed your ears as the creature was falling. It was not long before the creature hit the ground, dispersing into a glitch of bright colors and black mist- just like the first one. 

Another creature advanced towards you, leaping off of the previous creature's body right before it had hit the concrete. Swinging on your web, you redirected your momentum to make a tight turn and kick the creature with all of your weight. The force from your kick sent the creature through a wall as it yelled and dispersed. 

“So sorry tax-payers!”, you yelled out, still swinging and webbing the creatures as you moved by. 

You continued to take them down as quickly as possible. All it seemed to take was one good hit to destroy them, but there were just so many. You had to handle it by closing the vortex.

As you were thinking, you could hear a shriek cutting through the yells of the shadows. It was sharp and fearful. Your head quickly snapped in the direction of the scream; your spidey sense rang. Abandoning the creatures in front of you, you immediately zipped towards the voice.

There, a young woman stood shaking on the side of the street. Her phone was raised, held tightly in her hands as it recorded a creature about to pounce on her.

“Run!”, you yelled at her, but she did not move. Her eyes glistened with fascination but her body shook with fear. 

“I said MOVE!”, you yelled once again, charging at her full speed.

The creature was just about to pounce, its claws ready to tear into the woman. You quickly shot out a web and yanked her back towards you. The woman flew across the pavement, still attached to your web. Her beanie had slipped off, but otherwise she was still intact with her phone in her hand.

Where the creature had pounced, was left a small crater in the sidewalk. Cracked and dented. That was going to need quite a bit of fixing.

“Seriously? Risking it all just for what? A TikTok?”, you questioned the woman with a breathy angry sigh, grabbing her beanie and slapping it into her chest. “Now GO.”, you demanded.

“But I-”

Another shadow creature began to approach.

“GO!”

The woman nodded at this and quickly scampered off at the sight of it. The creature screamed once again, charging at you like a bull. 

“Always giving me more work.”, you muttered to yourself.

As the creature charged, you jumped up and shot two webs on the street below you. Once it had ran under you, you used the momentum of your webs to slam yourself down onto it.

You continued to take down more shadow creatures as you made your way back towards the vortex that was now pulsating rapidly.

“Okay, Spiderlily.”, you spoke to yourself. “How do we close a giant neon pulsating shadow puking multiversal portal? The answer is totally obvious. Came in the spidey handbook!”

Landing on the same building as the vortex, you look up at it. Analyzing it.

“Think, Spiderlily. Think.”, you whispered, staring deep into its colors.

It did not look like your typical portal. It was cracked, ripped- unstable with frayed ends. Everything about it was simply unnatural. It throbbed violently and seemed to distort reality itself. This anomaly was different from your usual ones. You couldn’t open a portal and kick this portal into it. There had to be a way to reverse it. You just didn’t know how. 

Eventually, you decide that any attempt is better than no attempt. So, you began to pull at the edges of the vortex with your hands and attempt to physically shut it. Sure, there is probably a better solution, but there wasn’t much time and your options were looking relatively limited.

Good news though, the vortex was moving. It was closing with the force you were putting into it. Feeling it slowly inch, you began to pull harder. Soon enough you were close enough to grab the other edge of it with your hand and were now able to pull both ends towards the center. 

“Come on…Come on!”, you grunted through your teeth.

The vortex continued to thrash against you, colors flying out of it as some left over shadows shrieked in the distance. You were nearly there, with just a bit more you would be able to forcibly shut it closed.

Just as you were about to give the last pull, you saw a flash of movement come from behind you and a ringing in your head. Within a split second, you feel a kick on your back. With no time to react, you fall into the vortex.

You felt a surge of panic as you were kicked into the vortex. As you fell, you could see a humanoid shape stand at the end of the vortex you had just fell through. It was glitchy, shadowy, just like the creatures you fought before. However, it held a more sinister smile to it.

Your surroundings dissolved into a blur of glitchy bright lights and colors as the world around you fractured into jagged shards. Your senses were overwhelmed, caught in the series of spiraling portals. Each one flew past you like windows into other dimensions. Worlds you didn’t recognize.

Soon enough, the vortex had spit you out. You tumbled across yet another rooftop, the gravel scratching your sides as you rolled. It took a moment, but you eventually were able to push yourself up- groaning as you held your side. Definitely bruised.

You looked around at your surroundings. The colors of this world were relatively similar, but somehow darker. As you stood up, you immediately checked your Gizmo. The screen was cracked, a bit glitchy, but still responded when you touched the screen. You sighed at this and immediately looked to see what universe you were pushed into. Hopefully, if you were lucky, it would be one of your other spider friends.

As soon as you clicked the screen for it, the Gizmo beeped.

ERROR: UNREGISTERED DIMENSION

“...What?”, you whispered. It glitches again. 

You attempt to recalibrate it, however nothing seems to work. You continue to get the same notification. Bewildered, you slap the watch on your wrist. Every dimension is registered, even if the Spider-Society does not have all of the spiders from each one. This was supposed to be impossible.

A wave of anxiety washes over you after minutes of attempting to recalibrate it. Your knees were buckling, realizing that there was no way to fix it without any tools. Getting back was going to prove more difficult.

“No, no, no, no!”, you yelled as you continued to slap it- not knowing what else to do. Your breath quickened as you stared in disbelief. You were stranded. 

Your heart pounded in your ears at this thought as you turned your attention to your surroundings. The buildings were similar to New York, but the streets sounded different. The air was heavier, thicker. You could feel the weight of it pressing down on you like some sort of thick fog. The architecture around you was so similar yet so different. Everything was just darker, as if encased in an evercasting shadow. You glanced across the city skyline, your eyes catching onto a beam of light- piercing the foggy night sky. A bat logo.

Shit.

Next ➔

A/N: yay! so happy to finally push out the first chapter. hopefully i keep up the motivation to get this finished. i haven't written creatively in a really long time, so i am a bit rusty. i am also a very slow writer which does not help my case lol. anyway, i hope yall liked it! i think im still tryna get a grip on spiderlily's character, so if you guys have any suggestions for this fic- i am very open to it!! i appreciate all comments, notes, and reposts dearly. <3 this was also inspired by a bunch of fic's i have read in the past and @/yannawayne, so please go check them out!

[meadowfics]

boredom got a new bestfriend

kang dae-ho x pregnant!reader

pregnancy has been exhausting, but luckily your partner is here for you.

warnings: post-squid game au. ptsd themes included but this is mainly comfort I swear

it felt like you were feeling postpartum depression before you even gave birth to the baby.

your daughter is the best thing to be happening for you right now, a human-being sharing the dna of you and your sunshine of a husband.. but you hate the discomfort.

your belly is a little bit bigger for someone who is 34 weeks along.

the doctor predicts that your girl will come out a little bit more developed than the average infant.. great.

growing up for all of your life, you slept on your stomach.

sleeping on your side and/or back during this pregnancy makes you wake up each hour, ready to throw up or cramped due to the uncomfortable position.

the lack of sleep has been killing you, and you know it will not get any better once the girl arrives.

don't worry, dae-ho has been the best partner ever, doing as much as he can to help you!

he doesn't know how it feels to carry a baby for nine months, especially a baby thats in a bigger percentile (thanks to his genetics), but he can see how much its affecting you mentally.

the man will cuddle you to sleep, give you foot massages, head massages too.. but it seems like his daughter wants to give you hell.

you're bored throughout the day as well.

its all of the time.

before your pregnancy, you used to go on walks and do chores and run errands for other people for money.

well, you had to before you joined the games.

the games are apart of the reason as to why you barely get any sleep, scared that you will wake up to someone killing you with a fork to add money to the pile.

however, you remind yourself that you are safe.

the baby is safe, you are with dae-ho, and you're all alive and safe.

even if you aren't comfortable due to your belly..

now, you cannot do a simple task like going to the grocery store without getting tired.

you've had enough, you cannot wait for the six weeks until your daughter is born.

one night, it reached its point when you went to sleep beside dae-ho.

the man's arm was wrapped around your fully developed belly, he loved to hold his daughter that you carried.

you laid on your back, your head laid down on the pillow looking up at the ceiling.

it was 12:02am when you fell asleep.

a big kick caused by your daughter made you jump awake.

dae-ho didn't wake up after you moved his arm from your stomach.

thankfully since you want him to get his sleep at least.

when you checked the time, tears immediately poured out of your eyes.

its 12:12am..

you couldn't even get ten minutes of good sleep without your body, or your daughter, stopping that.

walking out of the bedroom into the living room, you decided to turn on an old sitcom rerun that played on the overnight channels.

that did not entertain you.. nothing seemed to.

you tried to romanticize the moment, going to quickly grab some water and a fruit bowl so you could eat and relax.. but nothing worked.

sleeping was the best option, but waking up every ten minutes is driving you insane.. so why sleep at all?

"baby?"

you saw dae-ho enter the living room, wiping his tried eyes with his hands.

he is just wearing his plaid pajamas and no shirt. sexy.

sex could help the boredom, since intimacy with dae-ho is never boring, but you were too exhausted to even move at all.

"why are you awake?"

you softly ask, unaware that he could ask you the same thing.

which he is..

"I was going to ask you the same thing, since you're watching a sitcom marathon at one in the morning.."

dae ho mumbles, his big hand resting on your thigh as he looks ahead at the show on the television.

"your daughter is not letting me sleep, so I figured that watching television could pass time.. but that is not helping."

you frown.

dae-ho frowns too, moving his hand from your thigh and gently rubbing your belly.

he moves his head down towards your belly as well, going to talk to your daughter through your nightgown.

"awh, sweetheart, why are you being so mean to your mommy?"

you smile at this gesture, knowing your daughter will go right back to kicking your organs all over the place.

"I can't sleep and I am very bored.. I don't know how I am going to last these six weeks, dae."

you plead.

the man looks up at you, guilt in his eyes, as he tried to think of a solution.

"well, I can offer besides cuddles and physical affection to help you sleep comfortably.. but maybe I could stay up with you so you are not so bored as well?"

the tired man speaks through his raspy voice.

"no, dae-ho, you need your sleep."

"you need it a lot more than I do.."

dae-ho smiles,

"you will need to gain enough energy when its time to push next month!"

he's right.

how were you supposed to birth your daughter if you were too tired to push?

the man sees worry flash before your eyes and retracts his words,

"wait I was kidding, I--"

"dae-ho, I know, don't worry!"

you giggle.

you relax into your man's arms while watching the boring show on the television.

it feels like your daughter stopped her soccer/football game happening inside of your uterus.

so you close your eyes to see if your mind will take you to sleep.

you focus on dae-ho's scent since your nose is against his chest.

the first thing you notice is that dae-ho used your body wash while he showered at some point.. your vanilla body wash.. wow!

suddenly, you couldn't process anything else as you fell asleep with dae-ho.. since he already fell asleep before you.

when you wake up, the sun is shining through the curtains and you were back in your bed.

you were... comfortable.. woah.

something you haven't felt since before your belly starting growing with your baby.

the soft ivory blanket was warm against your cool skin, the pillow soft underneath your ears.

dae-ho is still asleep, his back facing towards you.

you move yourself to get behind him, big spooning him as your belly pokes his lower back.

"goodmornin', my baby."

dae-ho's raspy voice speaks, taking your small hand and kissing your knuckle lightly.

"good morning, handsome."

you smile, feeling refreshed.

looking over at the alarm clock, the time reads 10:38am

taking a huge sigh of relief, you cuddled into dae-ho more, happy to finally get some good rest after months of failure.

"how did you sleep?"

dae-ho mumbles against your soft hands.

"I slept good, for once."

you giggle.

"see, I knew my little talk to (daughter's name) would work!"

dae-ho smiles and you giggle.

"thank you, love."

masterlist

[bweeeb]

PUPPY EYES

Synopsis: When Pedro doesn't take you to the awards ceremony for his new movie, your relationship starts to go downhill with the thought that maybe you're too young to give him everything he needs.

Warnings: nothing major, angst, couple with problems, Pedro and you are 26 years apart.

Career, projects, new movies, memories, and that topic that always left you unsure—was it negative or positive anticipation when people brought up relationships?

It wasn’t news to anyone that five months ago, when you and Pedro made it official that you’d been secretly seeing each other for a year, people started digging into every little detail. And a few months ago, the age difference between you two didn’t bother anyone in your social circle. Both of you were adults who knew exactly what you were doing with your lives.

Even your parents, who had initially been surprised by the man 26 years older than you, eventually came to accept your choice. So it shouldn’t bother you or anyone else anymore.

"So, I don’t think you’ve ever openly talked about your relationship with Pedro Pascal after making it official. Is it okay if we discuss it?"

The podcast host smiled at you, and you let out an embarrassed laugh, shrugging.

"Why not?"

"How did you two meet?"

"We worked on the same movie, so we were constantly together on set. One thing led to another."

"And you never thought, like, ‘Wow, he’s way too old for me,’ since there’s a significant age gap?"

"Twenty-six years, isn’t it?" Another host interrupted.

"Didn’t he say in an interview that he wouldn’t date anyone with more than a 20-year age difference? Doesn’t that make you curious about what changed?"

"Well, when we met, I didn’t think much about it, and I don’t think he did either. Yes, he mentioned that he wouldn’t date someone with a 20-year age gap. But I’ve always had a thing for DILFs, and he’s definitely one. One thing led to another, without either of us realizing it."

Your cheeks flushed as you spoke honestly, your eyes briefly catching your publicist’s approving thumbs-up from behind the glass.

"I think it’s much more about connection than anything tangible, you know? Our age difference is almost unnoticeable in our day-to-day life now."

"Pedro is, what, around 50 years old? Let’s not pretend it’s entirely unnoticeable." One of them chuckled, and you narrowed your eyes, frustrated at how your words were twisted.

"You’re young, clearly with the body of a 23-year-old, while he’s middle-aged. I think people are just curious about what made you stay." The other one chimed in, leaning toward the mic. You smiled politely, glancing between the camera and the hosts.

"Maybe the real question is what makes him stay. He had a firm opinion, and suddenly, it changed. Pedro has the purest and most beautiful soul in the world. He laughs at his own dad jokes, he shows me things I’d never imagined because he’s from 1975, and he’s a man with a capital M who treats me like the last rose petal in the universe. So, honestly, if he ever agrees to do an interview with you, maybe you should ask him what makes him stay.

"After the podcast aired, what you thought would be a calm discussion turned into a social media battleground. People twisted your words and intentions.

"A man taking care of a child—what nonsense."

"Really, ask him why he stays because she’s unbearable."

"Did she call his jokes ‘dad jokes’? Who does that to their boyfriend? RUN, PEDRO!"

"She’s just after his money."

"The most boring woman in the world is with the hottest man alive. How does that even happen?"

"She has nothing to offer him. Relax, ladies, it won’t last three more months."

"Dakota Johnson seemed interested in him; I wouldn’t be surprised if he ditches this corn husk for her."

"If I knew he was into younger women, I’d have listed a hundred better options than Y/N."

"Wait, guys—he didn’t even take her to the Gladiator premiere. How serious do you think this is?"

It was exhausting. Even though you avoided reading the comments, they popped up everywhere, and all the therapy you’d done to maintain a stable mental health seemed to be slipping through your fingers. But Pedro couldn’t know, so you plastered on a sweet smile whenever you saw him, even as doubts began to creep in.

Maybe you really were the worst option for him. Maybe someone older, with similar experiences, would be better. Someone more mature, less bubbly and silly.Sitting in the car, you stared blankly out the window as Pedro talked about the Gladiator premiere—the one you hadn’t attended because you weren’t invited.

"Hey, are you okay?" It wasn’t that you weren’t listening. You just didn’t have much to say, so you let him keep talking.

"Yeah, I’m fine. Go on."

Your smile didn’t falter, and you silently thanked yourself for being a good actress.

"No, you’re not fine. What’s wrong?"

"Of course I am. It must’ve been surreal, babe. Even Dakota Johnson was there, right?"

"Yeah, but what’s wrong with you?" His eyes left the road momentarily to glance at you. You shook your head.

"Nothing. You’re just imagining things." You leaned over, cupped his face in your hands, and pressed a kiss to his lips before pulling away.

"Eyes on the road, old man."

"Okay, but I thought I was your daddy."

He exaggeratedly rolled his eyes as if offended. You loved that about him—the way he was so expressive and dramatic, some might call it embarrassing, but you found it endlessly entertaining.

"You know when you’re my daddy," you said with a mischievous smile, swallowing the rising bitterness in your throat. That night was the last time you slept at his place. Over the following days, you insisted on being dropped off at home, and Pedro didn’t argue. He simply observed your strange behavior.

At first, he thought you might be pregnant and unsure about what to do. But then he remembered you weren’t the type to hide something like that. He considered that maybe you were overwhelmed with your new projects, but you usually loved talking about them. And then, his thoughts landed on your relationship. Had he done something wrong? He couldn’t pinpoint anything.

Five days later, the two of you were at a dinner with friends. Everything was going well until it wasn’t.

"Hey, Y/N, why didn’t I see you at the premiere? I thought I’d catch a glimpse of you in a glorious dress," Lux, Pedro’s sister, asked.

Your cheeks burned, and your heart raced with nervous discomfort. Were you supposed to admit you hadn’t been invited? No. Your mom had taught you better than that.

"I…" A nervous laugh escaped your lips as you shifted uncomfortably in your chair. You didn’t dare look at Pedro beside you, though you could feel his guilty puppy-dog eyes on you. You wouldn’t give in.

"I had some things tied up with the script for the movie. It was a hectic week."

In reality, the script had been finalized, and even if the writer had faced complications, you’d have found time to support your boyfriend and contribute new ideas to the director.

"Ah, really? What a shame. I hope everything’s okay now," Lux said.

"Oh, it’s all sorted," you replied, forcing a smile.Your smile faltered briefly when Pedro’s hand tried to find yours under the table. Clearing your throat, you stood up, announcing that you needed to use the restroom.When you returned, Pedro was chatting with one of his friends, and you were grateful he was too preoccupied to bring up the earlier conversation.

"Wow, did you do something with your hair? It looks blonder, or is it just me?" Hazel, one of Pedro’s friends’ girlfriends, asked politely.

"Yeah, I did. Amelia’s amazing," you replied.

"Oh my gosh, give me her number, please. I need something this stunning."

"Of course, I’ll even book you an appointment if you want."

"It’s impressive how an older man managed to snag someone as beautiful and sweet as you," Lux teased. Normally, you would’ve laughed it off, but everything felt different that night. You chuckled falsely, smiling as you’d been doing all week.

"Oh, come on, stop that," Pedro said, sounding uneasy. He could sense your odd mood.Of course, you were acting strange.

Everything had been strange lately.

Later, in the car, your gaze rested on your hands in your lap while you felt Pedro’s eyes boring into the side of your face.

"Honey—"

"If we could not talk about this now, I’d be much happier. Can you just take me home?"

"You know I want to—"

"Pedro."You turned to him, tired of pretending. Your voice was tense, and he immediately understood how serious it was. You never called him by his name. "Stop." Your tone wasn’t angry or annoyed, just lifeless. That terrified him. Women didn’t usually scare him. At nearly 50 years old, he thought he’d learned to handle these situations.

"I’m sorry, okay."

His gaze returned to the road, while you looked out the window, waiting to get home.

As you were arriving, you realized he wasn't taking you to your house but to his instead. Closing your eyes, you let out a sigh and covered your face with both hands.

"What are you doing?" The words came out muffled as you felt him slow down.

"Going home."

"This is the way to your house."

"My house is your house, darling."

"You know what I mean," you whispered, exhausted.

"I thought you didn’t want to go. That it would be too much pressure for you, that... that you wouldn’t want people talking."

You heard him lament, and biting your lip, you sniffled. You tried hard not to act childish in the situation, looking up and taking a deep breath, reminding yourself not to let the tears fall.

"I know," was all you managed to reply before your voice broke.

"I... I just need to think for a bit."

"Think... right. Think about what?"

"Can you please take me home?" Pedro nodded at that and drove to your building. For the first time, he felt a strange haze between the two of you.

"Thank you." Even in the awkwardness, there you were, sweet as ever. Pedro could never deny how much he appreciated that about you—the way you always thanked everyone for everything. You were so pure. "Anytime." You opened the car door and stepped out, but before you entered the building, Pedro got out and called after you.

"I'm sorry. And I love you." That’s what he said before you turned to look at him with sad eyes—the same expression you wore when you thought he had forgotten to pick you up for a date, only to find out he was planning a surprise trip to Chile.That night, Pedro went home with his tail between his legs. When Lux called him in the morning, he couldn’t have felt worse.

"You look like one of the infected from The Last of Us. Gross."Lux teased as Pedro rubbed his face with his left hand."What do you want?"

"Wow. Rude."

"Sorry, I didn’t sleep. Just tell me why you’re calling me at six in the morning."

"I was thinking about how you said Y/N was acting strange, and I agree. Last night, she was quieter than usual. Pero luego empecé a preguntarme: ¿la invitaste al estreno? Porque se puso muy rara después de que lo mencioné y estaba revisando los comentarios..." ( But then I started wondering—did you invite her to the premiere? Because she got all weird after I brought it up, and I was checking the comments...)

"Ya te dije que no revises los comentarios. La gente está loca". (I already told you not to check the comments. People are insane.)

Pedro rolled his eyes, sighed, and collapsed onto the couch, exhausted. You and Pedro had talked about ignoring online negativity countless times. Neither of you usually cared about it. You weren’t starting now, were you?

"Lo sé, lo sé, pero se están portando fatal con ella. Y al no invitarla, la gente pensó que la estaban dejando de lado". ( I know, I know, but they’re being awful to her. And not inviting her made people think you were sidelining her.)

Lux sounded worried, almost angry.

"Eso es ridículo. Yo nunca haría algo así. Ella lo sabe. "(That’s ridiculous. I’d never do that—she knows that.)

"La compararon con Dakota Johnson. No es justo, son completamente diferentes. Dijeron que te cansarías de la 'niña'. Sabemos que es más madura que la mayoría de las mujeres, pero aún es joven". ( They compared her to Dakota Johnson. It’s not even fair—they’re completely different. They said you’ll get tired of the ‘kid.’ We know she’s more mature than most women, but she’s still young. )

Pedro propped his elbows on his knees and sighed. You had never acted immaturely. You never made rash decisions or threw tantrums over small things. You never picked fights or complained about work or friends. People didn’t know anything about your relationship—how could they?

"¿Crees que está preocupada? "(Do you think she’s worried)

"La mujer está intentando mantener la compostura y alejarse antes de que la abandones, como todos han estado diciendo". (The woman’s trying to hold herself together and pulling away before you ditch her like everyone’s been saying.)

Lux sighed and continued,

"Deberías haber escuchado cómo habló de ti en ese podcast. Nadie más sería así, no como ella. Haz algo. ( You should’ve heard how she talked about you on that podcast. No one else would be like that—not like her. Do something. )

Fuck. Pedro thought. He’d be stuck working all day, knowing you were likely asleep now. As the day went on, you ignored his missed calls. Not as an act of immaturity but because you needed personal space. You planned to talk to him eventually, but your phone felt like a weight you couldn’t bear. Instead, you threw yourself into work, ensuring every detail was perfect.Later, your group decided to go out for dinner, and you joined to keep your mind occupied. You loved them all but remained mostly a listener. Exhausted from a sleepless night, you struggled to follow the conversation, though you smiled at their stories.After dinner, you excused yourself to the restroom. As you washed your hands, you overheard two women talking in mocking tones.

"Do you think it’s a PR stunt?"

You frowned, listening as the other responded,

"It must be. I mean, it’s all over the news, and she’s playing the sad little girl role."

"Yeah, right? He used to call someone 25 a kid, and now he’s with a 23-year-old? Ridiculous."

"Did you see the photo of him with Dakota at the bar?"

"What? When?"

"Today, about an hour ago. She was kissing his cheek, and even if it’s for the movie, I doubt it. They weren’t even working."

"Think he’ll trade her in?"

"She won’t last ten days."

You grabbed your phone and opened Twitter. The first thing you saw was the photo of him and Dakota. He had that drunken smile on his face as she wrapped her arms around his neck. You weren’t the jealous type, fully aware of how PR worked in Hollywood, but it still stung.You washed your hands, turned to face them, and said,

"At least I’m more than a nameless extra without a single line. The only roles your venomous tongues will land you are in adult films, and not the Pearl kind—cheap, disgusting ones. Have a good night.

"With that, you left, hailed a cab, and went home. Fighting back tears, you repeated to yourself, Don’t cry. It’s just a picture. You ignored him all day, so stop acting like this.But for the first time, you cried over something like this.

Your head ached, and with the tip of your nose red, you picked up the phone and called him—without thinking too much, without wrestling with your thoughts. You just did what you felt needed to be done.The first call went straight to voicemail, and even though the thought of not wanting to humiliate yourself for him crossed your mind, you ignored it, knowing you were the one who had lost ground first. On the second call, your phone was answered, and the muffled sound made you swallow hard—he was out of the house.

“Hey.”

Your voice came out low, and you heard some murmurs on the other side, blending with loud conversation.

“Hello?”

A woman’s voice called from the other side, and you grimaced. “Uh, hi. Is Pedro there?”

“Uh, he’s kind of busy right now,” she said.

“Busy…” you repeated softly. “Who are you?”

“Carly.”

Carly? Who the hell is Carly? you thought immediately.

“Then tell him I called, Carly.”

“And you are…?” The mocking tone in her voice irritated you, and your expression was far from pleasant.

“A friend. Tell him a friend called.”

“Great.” She hung up without saying anything else, and you wrapped yourself in your own cocoon of blankets that didn’t warm you like Pedro did.Suits was playing on TV while you avoided going to bed, eventually falling asleep without even realizing it. Around 3 a.m., frantic knocks on your door startled you awake, making you look warily down the hallway. The doormen usually informed you of anyone coming to your floor.

Cautiously, you peeked through the peephole and saw him there, rubbing his face with his two hands, five times bigger than yours. You stopped, stepped back from the door, and sighed before opening it. Once you unlocked the door’s security latch, you looked at him and almost closed it again upon seeing your reflection, still wearing his shirt.

“It’s late. What are you doing here?” Your voice came out softly, and you saw Pedro stammer as he raised his hand in a nervous tic.

“A friend?”

“What?”

“Why did you say you were just a friend, sweetheart?” Pedro asked, stepping forward. You didn’t step back, only shrugged and gave a disheartened smile

.“She said you were busy. I thought it would be more… convenient than saying something else.”

“You’re something else. You’re my girlfriend. And my fiancée. And my wife. And I don’t care if you want to be the mother of my kids when I’m a hundred years old.”

He’s so drunk, you thought.

“How much tequila did you drink, Pedro?”

“The whole bottle.” He laughed, moving closer and gently touching your face. He’d always been gentle; being drunk didn’t change that.

“Please don’t tell me you’re breaking up with me.”

“I won’t say anything to you while you reek of cheap booze and cheap women.” You closed the door behind him and stepped away, heading to the hallway and your closet to grab a towel and clean clothes for him.

“Take a shower. If you sober up, we’ll talk.”

Pedro knew what you were thinking—that he’d gotten mad, drunk with his friends, and gone out with women named Carly. But he hadn’t done anything other than stare at the karaoke machine, hating every second he wasn’t there to mock what he was hearing.

“Everything’s cheap,” he laughed, following you.

“You know what isn’t cheap, Pedro? My patience. I haven’t slept well in over a week, and now it’s almost four in the morning, which means it’s been twenty minutes since you showed up at my door, and I don’t know why the hell you’re not naked yet.”

Your words left your mouth, and Pedro smiled at you.

“One day without you, and I forget how hot you are when you’re bossy and sleepy,” he slurred, making you laugh softly as you turned on the shower and pushed him into the bathroom.

“Don’t fall in there, please.”

Fifteen minutes after you pushed him inside, your eyes were heavy, and the strange way your body associated his presence with a different kind of rest annoyed you. Without realizing it, you fell asleep on the couch, wrapped in your blanket. It was as if your body said":

— Oh, it’s okay; Pedro’s home, so we’re safe,— but was your heart safe?When he saw you asleep there, the tequila had only left him dizzy—nothing a cold shower couldn’t fix. He approached and carried you to your room without thinking twice, whispering as he looked at your face:

“I’m so sorry, my preatty little thing.”

He laid you on the bed, and as he was about to leave, he heard you murmur:

“Stay. Please.”

Without hesitation, he lay beside you, pulling you against his chest and wrapping you both in a cocoon where it was just the two of you.

“Have you ever thought that maybe I’m not the right person for you?” you murmured, burying your head in his neck and feeling his hands trail up your back.

“Have you ever thought that maybe I’m not the right person for you, sweetheart?” he emphasized, and you sighed.

“I’m scared of losing you when you realize I’m too young, too naïve, and haven’t even experienced half of what you have.”

“I don’t even know why you’re thinking that. I’m the one who’s old. You’re perfect, intelligent, hot, and extremely talented—a young woman who fell into the arms of an old man like me.”

“Yeah, but I think maybe one day you’ll want someone your own age, someone like Sarah or any of your exes. I think it’s okay if you get bored of me, start feeling ashamed, and—”

“Stop. Stop that.” Pedro cupped your face, pulling it from his neck and making you look into his eyes. Your hands rested on his chest as you stared at him, and with a disheartened smile, Pedro caressed your face, clearly upset. When had your relationship reached such a fragile state?

“I didn’t take you to the premiere because the press is cruel. They’d talk about you, probably reinforce the rumors, and talk about me—call me a disgusting creep. I was going to take you, but all of our advisors told me not to risk exposing you in a bad light. I… I would never feel ashamed of you, for God’s sake. Look at you. A woman of any age wouldn’t hold a candle to you in a million years.”

Sniffling, you climbed onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. Pedro sat on the bed, hugging you back, his hand resting gently on your waist.

“You don’t need to worry about anything. Whatever was written about you was a lie. God, I don’t think I even know how to live without you by my side anymore.”

You laughed, and a smile appeared on his lips.

“You don’t need to worry either. Other men lost their appeal the moment you wanted me.”

“That’s good, sweetheart.”

His hand traveled to the back of your neck, his large fingers running through your hair.

“And who was Carly?”

“A friend of the group.”

" And why did she have your cell phone?"

" It stayed on the table because I focused on looking at it for five to five minutes waiting for you to send me a message. "

“And the photo?”

He knew what you were referring to, and when he took it, he hadn’t expected it to reach you before you two made up—if you made up.

“It was to promote the movie, sweetheart. Dakota’s engaged.”

He brushed your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear.

“Hmm, alright.” You looked at him, tracing your fingers from his hair to his beard until they stopped at his mustache.

“Stop looking at me with those puppy-dog eyes. It makes you irresistible.”

“Like this?”

He did it again, and you laughed, kissing his lips immediately after.

“Mm-hmm, like that.”

You murmured against his lips as he smiled at you, and you whispered,

“I love you.”

“I love you more, sweetheart. Just you.”

Pedro pulled you close, laying you back against the soft mattress, kissing you as if it were the last moment of your lives. At least, that’s what both of you hoped.

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

I apologize if there are any mistakes in this writing. I didn't proofread it with the best eyes.

Requests are open

[mattsbows]

surfer!chris. . .meets you

chris was flying down the curvy roads of kauai, tapping his fingers along the steering wheel to “walking on a dream” by empire of the sun. he was careless and worry free like always, a distinct change to his personality after moving to hawaii. the smell of salt water, coconut, and sunscreen wafted through the doors of his open air jeep, reminding him just how much he loved living on this island. he was pretty sure he could stay here forever and never tire of it. it didn’t matter how many times he drove by the endless palm trees that lined the road or the quaint acai bowl stand on the left. 

as he drove, chris thought about how he had gotten here. just one year ago he had been a burnt out content creator, struggling to thrive in the oversaturated market that was modern youtube. eventually, he’d given up on the dream, making one last “goodbye” video for his subscribers, packing his bags, and getting the hell out of LA. 

being a lifeguard wasn’t what he had planned, but when his brothers matt and nick had invited him on a trip to hawaii as a way to cool his head, he’d fallen in love with the islands and just never left. it wasn’t exactly the most well paying job, but it was work regardless and it left him with plenty of time to do the activity that had kept him here anyway: surfing. it didn’t matter that his bank account had taken a significant hit since his content creation days. he was happy, and that was that. 

sure, it wasn’t a particularly glamorous lifestyle, but he had money for groceries, gas for his jeep, and rent for his small, beachy apartment. saving people’s lives should’ve earned him a little more than $15 an hour, but money was money. 

chris’ tank top blew in the wind as he hit the gas pedal. the fabric was becoming more wrinkled by the second, but he didn’t care. he rarely work more than a pair of swim trunks at work anyway, allowing him to earn a nice tan that definitely boosted his ego.  

everything was fine. better than fine, actually. he was mellowed out, now on island time. life was peaceful, even right now as he drove to work. that changed, however, when he saw you run out in the road, forcing him to slam on the brakes. 

“kid, what the hell are you doing?” chris cursed. 

“sorry!” you yelped, turning to face him. “there was just this really pretty butterfly and-”

“let me get this straight,” he said, leaning around the side of the jeep. “you ran out in the road for a butterfly?”

you nodded meekly, the way this unfamiliar boy said it making you realize how reckless your choice had been. you were taken aback though by the way he looked at you. there was a smirk on his tanned, freckled face, clearly an indicator of how comical he found the situation. it was stupid, really. you knew that, but that didn’t stop you from wanting to wipe that smirk off of his maybe, slightly, possibly gorgeous face. 

“you could’ve gone around me,” you stated with a shrug, trying to make the butterflies in your stomach not show on your face. “that was an option, y’know.”

chris rolled his eyes. you couldn’t be serious. you had to be joking. thankfully, you were a good actor because he seemed to believe that you weren’t. he simply rolled his eyes, climbing back into the jeep and smirking at you once more as he restarted the engine. you were pretty, there was no denying it, but chris wouldn’t let you know that.

“try not to get hit again.” he yelled at you as he sped by. 

and that was how your first, and definitely not last, interaction with the surfer had played out.

a note from the author: surfer!chris has my whole heart and soul. hope this helps ❤️ enjoy!!

❁ tags: @mattsdemi @purpledragon222 @slxtarchive @natashad0627 @quinnysnursery @tyummyz @colorthecosmos444 @lockettesstage @mattyblover07 @marrykisskilled @beautyloves @nicksbestie @mrsarnold @st7rnioioss @sturn777 @sophand4n4 @mattsdolll @lottieluhvs @reidshearts @sturns-mermaid @lovergirl4gracieabrams @emely9274 @blahbel668 @khlolovessturn @ncm9696 @raesalvatore @sturniololuv08 @sturniolosymphony @eternaldesi @irene-martinez777 @mamamadssss @sofieeeeex @courta13 @blushsturns

[trying-harder-then-u]

Russian roulette

The gun hit the table with a loud "clank," catching Damien by surprise. He had been enjoying the sound of the wind rustling through the well-maintained trees, but now that a weapon was being chucked around, he reckoned he should probably pay attention. Turning around, he saw Jacob smugly looking down at him, his blonde hair dropping over his deep brown eyes, a spotless white shirt and a pair of tan pants loosely fitting his thin, lightly muscled frame, a gold chain the only jewelry he had. Damien sighed to himself; he should have known that his rich, bratty friend was up to something, but when you get invited to a rural manor for a weekend by the son of the richest oil tycoon this side of the Atlantic, you don't tend to make a habit of saying no. The gun was black with gold and white lines swirling around the barrel and handle; like everything in the house, it looked expensive, and like everything, if Damien broke it, his family would most likely be paying it off for generations.

"What are you doing, Jacob?" he asked, his tone dripping with the exhaustion that comes from dealing with a spoiled brat's shenanigans. "Setting up for the game," Jacobs's shit-eating grin told Damien everything he needed to know: something dangerous was about to go down, and if he didn't stop it, then there was going to be a news story about this in the next 24 hours. In his mind's eye he could see the text flash across the screen: "Heir to oil empire murdered in cold blood by a jealous, impoverished schoolmate." Carefully getting up, Damien weighed his options before deciding to go on with Jacob till he could convince him that whatever he had planned was a bad idea. "What are we going to play then?" "Oh, nothing too complicated, my dear friend." Damien watched unnerved as Jacob opened the chamber of the pistol and put a small pellet in it. "Just some good old Russian roulette."

…

"Are you fucking insane? You do know how Russian roulette ends, right? I thought you were just a dick, but this is fully psychotic." "Oh, calm down, Damien, you worry too much; of course no one's going to die." Jacob pointed the gun at Damien and pulled the trigger, causing Damien to duck for cover as a click sound revealed that it was one of the five empty slots, much to Damien's relief. "How unfortunate; anyways, it's not a real bullet; it's a powerful drug that one of my dad's friends made." "And that's better how?" "It's this whole atomic structural thing. I'm not sure how it works exactly, but anyone hit with it can have their genetic makeup altered simply by the thoughts of the closest person, that isn't themselves, of course." Jacob proceeded to point the gun to his skull before shooting again, another harmless click. "See, I'm playing fair." "Jacob, that is not the point; I don't want to play at all." Damien was confused how Jacob was so nonchalant about this whole thing. Even if this whole atomic restructuring nonsense was real, what did he have to gain from that? "You're so unfun sometimes, but fine, I'll sweeten the deal for you: we play one game, and if I lose, then I'll make sure your parents get a nice cushy job where they will never have to go hungry again." The offer made Damien double back; it was one thing to give into Jacob's flights of fancy, a whole other when he could get his parents out of the rut they were currently in. "Fine, one game." "Great, let's sit down and continue."

Damien held the gun in shaking hands; he knew now that the bullet wasn't able to harm him, but his whole body being at the whims of Jacob was still terryfying even if it was temporary. Click, safe. Jacob, turn now and click. There are only two bullets left, and so a 50/50 chance; no turning back now. Damien's finger moved the trigger and-. Damien felt strange; he couldn't hear anything; the wind in the trees was gone; he didn't hear the gun go off, but this weird state he was in seemed to say he had been drugged; color swirled around him until finally something formed in front of him. Jacob.

"Hey there, dear friend," Jacob's smile seemed more malicious than usual. "Seems like you lose, so I'm going to enjoy the show now." Jacob leaned back; Damien's skin felt like it was crawling; he felt like spiders were crawling all over him, but as he looked to see what was causing it, he almost jumped back in surprise. His skin was changing; it was growing darker. He watched as the melanin in his skin increased until he went from the olive skin tone he inherited from his mother's Italian genes to something much darker; he looked almost African. Not only that, but the calouses from working after school to help his family vanished along with all his blemishes and pimples till his skin was as clear as day, but how was that possible? Damien remembered now the drug; the closest person controlled his atomic structure, but what was Jacob doing to him? He looked up to try and address Jacob, but a punching sensation in his gut drew him to look down, seeing his clothes dissolve away and abs form; the rest of his frame was not neglected either; he continued to bulk up and even felt a couple inches added to his height till he was a goliath of a man; his feet and hands grew much larger, his face grew more chiseled, and his hair shrank back into his head.

He tried to yell at Jacob, but before he could, their faces collided as Jacob passionately kissed Damien. Only moans, slowly deepening in pitch, escaped his mouth. "God, I've been waiting so long for this. You think I'd ever be friends with your poor ass? God, no, you're my plaything now, and don't worry, it's permanent." Damien whimpered as Jacob's hand reached down, grabbing onto Damien's cock, and began to stroke slowly and methodically. Each time Damien felt more confused: where was he, why was he worried about his parents, who was he? His mind slowed as he gave into Jacob, the pleasure overwhelming his mind. His dick grew larger than it had ever been before, 4 inches, now 5, 6, till a 7-inch-long monster was left in its place. Damien's moans grew louder as he neared the end; he just wanted to cum; he didn't know who this strange man beating him off was, but he just wanted him to continue. Jacob continued to go faster and faster, until long streams of hot cum splashed across both of them. up his hand to for Damien to lick clean, which he gladly did, enjoying every taste.

2 months later

He was sitting at home, waiting for his rich boyfriend to get back. He had spent the last 2 months spending every hour he could with Jacob, but with Jacob's school, he had large amounts of time to reflect and learn how to be a good boyfriend, how to cook, clean, and do everything for Jacob. Awhile ago, two older people came around looking for their sun that shared his name, but he told them he had no clue where he had gone. His life was good, but the best part was no doubt every night when Jacob would take control; he would sometimes be pleased and sometimes give pleasure, but regardless, he knew that life would be good when he just went with what his boyfriend said, and man was life good.

[cakerybakery]

Lucifer was more of a tea guy, but after last night he poured himself a cup of coffee into his ‘Ducks of North America’ mug. Then he got down a mug for Adam and made him a cup of the caffeine free coffee.

He and Adam had been up most of the night.

There was a groggy little, “daddy?” As Charlie wandered into the kitchen.

“Hey baby. How are you feeling?” He set down the mugs and moved towards his little girl.

“Bad.”

He just about reached her when ‘bad’ was spewed onto the linoleum.

“Definitely no school today.” Lucifer was already going to keep her home just incase one of her brothers passed the flu onto her. And it seems they had.

She groaned and wrapped her arms around her tummy, sinking down to the floor and wrenching again.

It kicked him into high gear. Lucifer picked her up and carried her to the bathroom. He washed her face and helped her rinse out her mouth.

Carefully he helped her undress and put her in a warm shower to make sure she didn’t have any puke on her. He brushed her long wet hair and put it in a quick braid to keep it out of her face if she threw up again. Then took her back to bed.

As she slowly put on a new nightgown, Lucifer changed her sheets to so they would feel fresh and clean. He put her back to bed and went to get an old ice cream bucket, lining it was paper towel to avoid splash back.

Carrying the bundle of sheets and the dirty clothing to the apartment’s in suite laundry, he passed Adam who was in the kitchen, scrubbing the floors.

“Oh, Adam. You should be in bed.”

After finally getting their boys settled around three in the morning, Adam had started to look a little green around the gills himself before spending the next hour curled up in the bathroom.

“It needs doing.” Adam grunted.

Lucifer sighed and finished his task. Adam was always like this. Insisting he had to do stuff or he felt useless. Lucifer tried to assure him that he wasn’t useless, that taking care of the kids all day was contributing. But there was a lot of unpacked baggage in Adam’s brain from his strict religious upbringing.

When they started looking into having kids they had settled on surrogacy pretty easily. Using donated eggs and an agency they ended up with Charlotte and Cain. Fraternal twins, and while they hadn’t wanted to know who the biological father was or each twin. It was rather clear. Cain was Adam’s double as much as Charlotte was his. They had to turn off their phones’ facial recognition stuff because the twins had started to be able to get into their phones and between the two of them bought about fifty bucks worth of in app purchases in a game.

Originally they had planned for Adam to take six weeks off work before putting the twins in daycare. It lasted a day before Lucifer found Adam, shut in a closet to hide as he cried. He hated every second of returning to work and putting their babies in daycare.

In their bedroom closet, the door shut so it was dark and Adam felt safe to express his feelings, they talked about options.

Lucifer came from a well off family. He had a trust fund he could tap into if Adam would rather have a nanny. But Adam quietly admitted while it was better, that it made his guts twist at the idea of wasting money on a nanny just because he was too weak to be away from his babies longer than he needed to be.

So Lucifer suggested Adam stay at home and care of their children. Adam’s heart wanted that, but Adam admitted it made him feel lazy. The six weeks he’d already been at home instead of earning money to pay for his share of things was bringing out feelings of shame.

The bits of his parents scolding Adam for playing house with his sisters and tending to the pretend babies instead of playing sports with the neighbourhood boys came to mind. Little bits of his father bitching that dinner was late because his mother had spent the day caring for sick children instead of making his food. The casual remarks that his sisters shouldn’t be thinking of college, rather of finding a husband from their church group. Their parents never understood why both girls cut them off once they got out.

It had taken a lot to get Adam to even admit he liked men, despite the frantic kissing in their dorm room and the weeks of making love. Lucifer had been with him every step of the way since. They got their first apartment together when Adam was disowned at twenty after telling his parents. When they got married, Lucifer’s parents bought them their current apartment. Each time, Adam had a little freak out about not being the man his parents expected of him.

Eventually they did settle on Adam quitting his job as an accountant and being a stay at home parent. But Adam put a lot of pressure on himself to be the perfect parent and stay at home spouse.

Some days, when Lucifer comes home from work and the place is a mess, dinner hasn’t even been started, and the kids are screaming and running around, Adam flinches like he’s expecting Lucifer to be upset. Lucifer couldn’t care less though.

He grew up with nannies and maids, a professional chef making dinners. His mother spent half her days doing whatever she fancied and the other half playing with the kids or taking them on outings. Lucifer’s father was a workaholic. He was always keeping busy. He had liked being up at five am to have meetings with people halfway around the globe, then casually did paperwork at breakfast. He worked until five pm sharp. Then turned his focus on his family. Engaging his always working mind on helping with homework or their activities. He liked working and made his family his hobby job, giving himself tasks like reading bedtime stories instead of reports.

Currently, Lucifer was still working his way up through his father’s company, but in another ten years or so, when his father retired and would fill his day with hobbies and grandchildren instead, Lucifer was slated to take over. His paycheque was more than enough to cover all their expenses. These days he wouldn’t even have to dip into his trust to pay for the help he grew up with.

Adam couldn’t be swayed though. He needed to contribute if he wasn’t working and felt like he needed to take care of everything himself around the house.

Lucifer went to the kitchen and pulled Adam to his feet. Adam was huffing, red from a fever, and constantly coughing. “You’re going to bed.”

“But, the kids. Charlie will be up soon.”

“Charlie is sick too. I already put her back to bed. All three boys are in their beds sleeping.” He half carried Adam, who was too weak from cleaning to do more than protest. “You need rest too.” He manhandled Adam back into bed. Fed him cold medicine to help him sleep. Then left him in the darkened room to rest.

Looking around the messy apartment, Lucifer decided he needed help. He called his mom.

Sera showed up half an hour later with a chef and a small barrage of maids behind her. The chef took stock of everything in the kitchen, made a list of ingredients, and left. The small army of maids cleaned the apartment from top to bottom. Disinfecting as they went.

Lucifer took a quick nap on the couch as Sera checked on the children and Adam.

A little rest and the toddlers were back to causing, carefully managed by nana Sera, chaos.

As lunch rolled around and their home filled with the smells of fresh baked biscuits and chicken noodle soup, Adam woke up. He was grumbly about the help but he couldn’t argue with a belly full of delicious homemade food, a lemony smelling bathroom as he took a shower, and fresh clean linens as he crawled back into bed for another nap.

Lucifer and Sera got all the kids bathed, fed, and put back to bed for their own naps.

Once the apartment was cleaned, the maid were done for the day and they and chef went home.

Sera then sent Lucifer to bed himself, promising to stay until everyone was feeling better. He reminded her they didn’t have a guest room and she scoffed.

“I’ll sleep on the couch, darling.” She shooed him off to bed. “Wouldn’t be the worst place I’ve slept.”

It took a couple days, and Lucifer getting sick as well in the meanwhile, but everyone was better.

Adam settled on the couch and sighed happily. “This is nice.”

“Hmm, it is.” Lucifer agreed as he cuddled into Adam’s side. The kids in their clean beds. “Can we talk about getting a maid service now?”

“Lucifer,” Adam groaned. “You know how I feel.”

“I do. And I keep telling you, it’s okay not to do everything yourself. Just once a week. Someone can come in and do a deep clean while we take the kids to the park or something.”

Adam looked like he wanted to say no, but looking around the once more scrubbed clean apartment, Adam seemed torn.

“You take care of two sets of twins. How you didn’t go crazy when Abel and Seth were born and you had Charlie and Cain still underfoot all day, I’ll never know.” Lucifer kissed Adam. “Darling, you don’t have to be alone.”

“I’m not alone. I have you.”

“Yeah. And I called my mommy for help. I’m just saying, you don’t need to burn yourself out to prove you deserve a place in this home. Please. Let me get a maid, or a chef, or a nanny. Someone.”

Adam thought for a long time before sighing. “Fine.”

Lucifer grinned. Adam was pouting about it now. But he’d come around. Sera and Lucifer never told Adam, but there was a reason she often popped around while their second set of newborns came home. If Adam suspected anything more than wanting grandma cuddles, he never said anything and just enjoyed that she often ordered out large meals when she was visiting. Leaving the leftovers so that Adam could more easily feed their toddlers and himself without having to cook on the days she wasn’t there.

They still had to decide what kind of help to get, but he’d leave it up to Adam to figure out what he was comfortable with. All Lucifer wanted was for his family to be happy. He wanted more evenings with his husband in his arms. Normally, Adam would still be cleaning, insisting that Lucifer not help. This was much better.

“You know what I really want to do, darling?” Lucifer asked in a husky tone.

“Go to bed for the night?” Adam teased.

“You know me so well.” Now that everyone was better, things had calmed down, and Lucifer just really wanted to go to bed early and wake up in the morning feeling refreshed.

Adam switched off the TV, and they went to bed.

[kalinara]

Yeah, this is my position too, basically.

Scott's definitely used children in battle in the past. No question. And the underlying conflict of Schism always made sense to me: of course the first of Xavier's child soldiers doesn't really comprehend the problem of sending children into battle in the first place.

But I think it's fair to point out that things were a lot different during the House of M/Decimation/Schism era. Mutants had been reduced in population to like literal hundreds, and the country was so hostile (and Dark Reign fully in place) that they had to retreat to an Island for their own protection.

It doesn't excuse what Scott did (particularly with Laura, but I can absolutely see why he did it - if you start parsing the characters, Laura and Scott are incredibly similar in terms of backstory and early trauma, and it makes perfect sense to me that Scott genuinely thought he was helping Laura by letting her use her abilities for a good cause and under the supervision of a trusted adult like Logan. Obviously it was the worst decision, but again, totally makes sense), but the context is kind of important.

Since then we've had the Schism, Scott's own fairly tremendous fall from grace after AvX, and Krakoa, when he actually got to spend time raising his actually-much-better-adjusted teenaged son and it's at least POSSIBLE that this provided some much needed context and clarity as to the maturity level and what you should expect from teenagers who weren't raised by terrifying mad scientists.

It's also possible that his argument is more about bringing UNTRAINED students on a mission like this. Which admittedly is more in keeping with his general characterization, overall.

It's hard to say without more interaction with younger mutants.

My own take on Idie is that she's probably supposed to be about 17-18. The rolling timeline is always hilarious and the general OFFICIAL position seems to perpetually try to fit everything in the span of twelve years. (I think Brevoort at some point stated Scott's intended age to be 28. Which is hilarious, but I go with it, because I enjoy breaking my brain to try to make this work.) In House of X/Powers of X, the timeline indicated that Genosha's destruction was about three years before (which is boggling, I laughed SO HARD), and the exact amount of time ON Krakoa is dubious too.

The Hellfire Gala MIGHT have been an annual thing. Or a seasonal thing. (I feel like they've mentioned both options at various times.) My guess is they'll end up going with "seasonal" on account of characters like Shogo still not hitting school age.

So yeah, my take would be Idie's about 17-18 and Quentin's probably about 19-20. With Jubilee and her generation at about 21-22, and Kitty at about 23.

I think you've got a lot of wiggle room though to call Scott a blatant hypocrite here, personally.

Apparently both characters have mind wiped their pasts entirely at this point. 😒

Scott had ZERO issue sending kids out to die during his “Rightclops era” and Rogue slept with Magneto for years…

[chaos-coming]

I hate having to find housing every time i move like this is so stressful and eating up all my time.

I just want to find a place i dont hate living and put down some roots for once, but everywhere i liked i had to leave bc of external bullshit (like getting deported during the pandemic lockdowns bc my visa status didnt qualify to stay) and everywhere thats supposed to be nice turns out to suck majorly (austria my beloathed)

[vaguely-concerned]

obsessed with the fact that if you choose the last purple option in lucanis' romance chat before going off to tearstone island ("they MOVED the MOON!!!" still in the running for the best delivery in the whole game btw it's so ineffably hilarious to me), it's rook who flinches away just a little bit (if still warmly <3) and tries to change the topic and lucanis who's steady even though he's clearly still so afraid. 'don't tempt fate'/'*the softest fucking voice you've ever heard in your entire life* I don't intend to'. pain and suffering

lucanis looking at rook and helplessly, with a wonder that verges on despair, saying 'what would I do without you?' is soooo. especially at that point in the relationship and with what's about to happen. and for whatever reason rook can't quite stay with the fact that they do mean that much to someone, that they are so reverently and so groundingly 'I want to know what your favourite food is so I can make it for you any time you want it' everyday loved, it's too much and they have to deflect from it or the fear of losing it. can say some very interesting things about them, too.

(there is also a Pattern in that in my estimation lucanis frequently responds better to inviting humour than to earnest shows of concern -- it seems to help him be more engaged/online to be offered that more neutral space to meet you in and uh 'build' the conversation around something funny together than to be confronted with compassion head-on because that clearly mostly deer-in-the-headlights him, as we also see with some of the early flirt options haha. contrast this especially with bellara, who repeatedly gets genuinely upset if you try to make light of some pressing and painful situation she's dealing with (girl I'm so sorry I'm so jestercore and I canot change this but I'll try :'( for you). I think the times lucanis reacts negatively to the purple options are much more about you siding with other (frequently more charismatic lol) people against him or throwing him under the bus interpersonally -- like seeming to go along with illario's charm offensives, or telling teia lucanis didn't want to come help out with caterina's funeral and he'd just sit alone and brood about it if you didn't force him (???!!! hello??? unprovoked and deeply unkind out of left field???? this option is so fucking MEAN and for what fhdaskjfa you're telling me there's no way for rook to be a bit of a dick in this game?)

when it's one on one conversation he consistently seems to find it quite comforting, though... which makes a lot of sense because in many ways it's how he interacts with illario, just shorn of the resentments and hidden daggers and things they Do Not Talk About but really should beneath the levity that makes it sharp. it's gone ugly between them, but I think the affectionate instinct beneath is real and goes back a long way before all of that festered -- it's a form of play he does with people he loves. and uh. not really caterina huh. notably.)

[girlivealwaysbean]

So I wrote this next song a few days before my nineteenth birthday. And, um, back then, I was so terrified of change, and I was especially afraid of growing up. And I'd, like, cry at all my birthday parties as a child. Very, very emo.

Now that I'm 21, I don't feel afraid of growing up at all. In fact, I'm really, really looking forward to it. And, um, if I could give any advice to the 18-year-old girl who wrote this song, I'd tell her not to worry so much, and that she has no idea how many magical, magical things are waiting just around the corner for her. So, uh, with that, here's "teenage dream".

- Olivia Rodrigo at the Guts World Tour before playing teenage dream

[thatonegayship]

Wow! Long time since I last did one of these, but this little one-shot deserves SO MUCH love and it's so rare these days that I have the motivation to shriek, I'll be damned if I don't use my full chest 😤 glorious Tswwwit, all hail the mighty drabble!!

It will always piss me off how whimsical and non-serious you make these two, and how much that portrayal has poisoned my VERY sexily melodramatic headcanons; even I can't stand from cracking an unnecessary pun from time to time now 😔 I should figure Dipper introducing the two was well on its way with all the bullshit he had to trudge through just to get them there, and with Mabel being the first safe option to spill the consequential beans with - but I was not expecting the proceeding fallout.

The second she said she'd met The Hottest Guy Ever, I knew where it was headed. There's only ONE hottest guy in the land of Billdip, and he always manages to beat Dipper to the punchline in these particular instances, always at the worst possible moment, always with extra bullshit hidden up his sleeve. I'd say the ensuing chaos was entirely Bill's doing, but let's be completely honest with ourselves here, Mabel was way too cool with The Strange Hot Guy feeling her twin brother up like THAT for as long as he did. Just more proof that Mabel and Bill make for a tornado of trouble; they're disturbingly unfazed by the weird and bizarre.

I mean, really? Putting his hands on Dipper's shoulders was friendly enough, but sliding them down to feel his biceps was downright pornographic! "A Total Stranger" pulling that move on "Their First Meeting?" Might as well shove his tongue down Dipper's throat and wear protection while he's at it - Mabel, how did you not see the signs? At least she's being supportive.

I love how she doesn't knock Dipper down in this story, not even as a light joke. She's super supportive of her nerdy monster hunting brother and prides in his success! Maybe a younger her would take the opportunity to pick fun here and there, but she's old enough and wise enough now to understand the sheer lengths it took Dipper to get where he is now; the blood, sweat and tears of dedication and commitment (likely at the avid disapproval of distant family), following a dream is not for the faint of heart. And when she tells Dipper not to look because he'll only think Bill is out of his league, but he's not. Tears. Actual tears. You go, Mabel! Get your brother laid 😌

You can just tell when Mabel's blind enthusiasm turns to shock, then alarm. Make no mistake, I was absolutely dying when Bill started pushing things. Pulling up that shirt, grabbing Dipper's butt, then his 'little dipper,' it went from Whimsy meet-cute to Sexual Assault with record time to spare 😤

But I'll bet Mabel couldn't help thinking to herself, not again. Dipper's aversion to meeting new people can't be ALL work-related, after all; I'll bet she let her over eagerness get in the way of her better judgement once before and accidentally invited some nasty characters into her brother's life, with much regret. Absolutely jerks who wouldn't know a prostate from a Pringle if it hit them upside the head. Part of why she was SO excited about introducing him to Bill! Because he seemed so much nicer and handsomer and more genuine than the lowlifes only looking for one thing.

There's a moment of disappointment, some lingering guilt, the monumental deja vu of leading yet another asshole to her brother's doorstep - before being smacked in the face by the absolute JOY of being right on the money for once! Makes sense, in a fucked up way, that Dipper would fall for someone as obsessed and crazy about him as he is about the paranormal. Passion is attractive. Passion over things that are weird is attractive to a select few, and Dipper is as weird as it gets. Bill would hollow his own heart out and shrink Dipper to the size of a thumbtack if it meant keeping him close to his chest - and despite it all, he might even be moved beyond his own annoyance. He's powerful, deranged, dangerous, and above all else, absolutely fascinating. Bill likes him, and despite the strangeness, Dipper likes him right back. It makes everything that could be WRONG about Bill just another quirk drawing Dipper deeper into the depths of weirdness. Mabel's gotta give it to her brother on this one - he beat her out for Weirdest Crush Ever, ten-fold. That's a level of freak she'll never reach.

I'll bet you regret playing along now, Dipper. "Oh, alright, I suppose I can feed into my boyfriend's silly whimsies just this once, what's the worse that could happen 🙄" FOOL! IMBECILE! YOU WILL DIE A THOUSAND DEATHS AND FEEL EVERY WOUND! How could that possibly be a good idea? I'll give him a pass since he's clearly being swept off his feet by a sexy hunk of a demon for most of the fic, but that pass is worn and close to expiring.

Dipper, sweety, I get it. He has fangs and a forked tongue. So do most garden snakes. GET A GRIP SOLDIER! I'm starting to think you wanna be conquered and controlled by this totally evil demon guy 🙄 how many times can a man be swayed by sheer attraction and affection before they're labeled a common whore? 3? Certainly no more than that.

Either way, Bill, flawless execution of your petty prank, I have NO idea how you managed to pull it off without getting served a swift kick to the nuts, but I commend you nonetheless. You managed to receive the easiest level of acceptance in Dipper's family, and arguably the most important - just don't try that shit again, or you WILL be exercised.

Here's a stupid meet-the-sibling thing from Portal AU!

Dipper checks his watch for the third time in two minutes, foot tapping nervously against the pavement. Mabel’s usually one to run late, but not this late. 

Twenty minutes have passed since they were supposed to meet up at this coffee shop, and between the fact that his twin’s always eager to see him, and the odd magical blips on his radar in the last hour, he’s starting to wonder if she’s gotten herself in trouble. Again. 

Driven by worry, he checks his phone again - the regular one. No texts, no missed calls. A second check shows nothing on his other phone either, which is arguably just as worrying but for different reasons.

Dipper slumps back in his seat, rubbing at his eyes. 

Great. Exactly what he needed. As if this whole conversation wasn’t going to be weird enough, now he’s got more to stress about. A sister in trouble, maybe, and a magical incident, probably. Not to mention who would obviously get involved with one of those, just to add the cherry on top of a messed up situation.

He’s just about decided to get up and start investigating when he hears the shout.

“Dipper!” 

Jerking up from his seat, Dipper turns towards his sister’s voice. 

Mabel runs down the sidewalk, arms raised and waving wildly, sending her bracelets banging against each other as her earrings bounce along with her steps. She doesn’t slow down as she approaches, instead throwing herself forward until Dipper has to catch her hug with an ‘oof’ of effort. 

He hugs her back in response and gets squeezed so hard it nearly takes the breath out of him, including a brief moment where he’s worried that her earrings will catch on his clothes. 

After a moment he pushes her back, smiling. How long has it been since he’s seen her in person? Four months? Five? From the occasional phone call he knew she was doing well, but it’s good to see her looking so happy in person.

“It’s good to see you.” He gives her a big pat on the back, and gets a ‘bwomp bwomp’ in return. 

“You too, bro-bro.” Mabel steps away, then blinks in surprise. “You look great! Is that a new look?” She gives him a once over, then beams, patting her cheeks. “Oh my gosh, that’s perfect timing!”

“Well, I-” Dipper plucks at his shirt - it’s not that different from his usual, just better fitted. 

So, he may or may not have gotten a lecture on fashion. A very long one. Followed by several insistent recommendations about his outfits, including having a literal pile of clothes dumped on him out of nowhere. He didn’t think it made that big a difference. But maybe it does?

“Okay, okay, I know you had something important you wanted to talk about, but listen.” Mabel rushes to speak, bubbling over with enthusiasm. Dipper lets her take his hands and clasp them tight as she bounces in place. “I just met. The hottest guy.”

“Ugh,” Dipper groans, shoulders slumping. Not another shitty crush. He thought she was over those by now. Still, if it puts his own thing off… “What kind of jerk is it this time?”

“Okay, one? Not a jerk! And two: He’s not for me, you dork!” 

“Wait, what?” Dipper holds her at arm’s length, staring. 

“So like I said,” Mabel continues, giving him a Look. “I met this guy, and we got to talking, and he’s, like, super fun - but clearly into dudes. So I sorta mentioned a certain brother, and guess what! He likes magic, and monsters, and he even says he has a thing for nerds!” She lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “It’s perfect. You’ll love him.” 

With another groan, Dipper drags a palm down his face. 

Damn it. He knows that she worries about him finding someone since he’s always on the move. Between trying to keep up with the jobs, and tracking monsters, and everything else in his life, he rarely has time for a break. Mabel playing matchmaker isn’t new. Only her choice of candidate, which sounds strangely.. On point?

Hell, a while ago - less than two months, at that - he might have welcomed an intro to this guy, whoever it is. It wasn’t like he was meeting a lot of people himself. 

But oh god. The timing.

“Look, I’m glad you thought of me, but-” Dipper starts, holding up his hands in defense.

“Oh no. Nope! No more of this ‘too busy’, or ‘probably not my type’ stuf. I vetted him Dipper,” Mabel insists, lower lip pouting out - oh god, the puppy eyes, he has to turn away -  “You’re on the road all the time and all alone all the time. So if you aren’t gonna try and meet someone, I gotta have your back.”

Dipper tilts his head back, shuts his eyes, and prays deep down for strength. 

He didn’t want to open with this information. It’s a pretty long story, one with a lot of twists and turns, even some bits that she’s going to feel very ‘I knew it!!’ about. But a little sisterly smugness is way, way better than getting dragged into a date with some guy. 

Even if Dipper turns it down first thing, it could end… Pretty badly. 

He opens his mouth to say so, and gets interrupted by hands clapping on his face, forcing him to meet her eyes.

“Oh my god, don’t look now.” She whispers, turning him back to look at her when his head instinctively swivels. “But he’s right here. I didn’t think he’d show up this soon!”

“Why shouldn’t I look at the guy you’re trying to hook me up with.” He says, flat. It comes out a bit garbled from the pressure on his cheeks.

“Because you’ll freak out thinking he’s out of your league! And he’s not!” Mabel insists, shaking him urgently. “Just be cool for once, okay?”

Dipper has never, ever been cool for a single instant in his life. He doesn’t know why his twin thinks he’s even capable of it. Add on the multiple reasons he can’t exactly flirt with some random dude that Mabel met on the street, and it’s a recipe for infinite awkwardness. 

Before he can explain why this is a bad idea, on so many levels, Mabel straightens up. 

“Hey, glad you made it” She beams at a point over Dipper’s shoulder. “Let me introduce you to-”

A cheerful laugh interrupts her, high and bright. It lingers longer than it should, seconds past the point where it’d be appropriate - then two firm hands clap onto Dipper’s shoulders, squeezing tight. 

“Well, well, well, well, well!” The voice behind him oozes smug pleasure. The grip on his shoulders tightens briefly, then slides down to his biceps in a slow, appreciative stroke. “So this is the famous Dipper Pines, huh?”

The voice, the touch. The smug, amused tone of someone pulling off an amazing joke that nobody’s caught onto yet-

Yeah, that all tracks. 

Dipper doesn’t resist when the man whips him around, frowning up into the beaming face of Bill goddamn Cipher. 

“Boy, you weren’t kidding! He is cute!” Bill exclaims, expression perfectly surprised and delighted. Like he’s never seen this face before in his life. He turns towards Mabel. “And you say this guy’s single?”

“Yep!” She gives a big double-thumbs up. Another person might mistake the way her eye’s moving as a twitch, but it’s just a million winks at Dipper, packed into too small a space. 

Bill lets out a low whistle. “Dang, that’s a shame.” The grins creeps up another fraction. “A smart guy woulda snagged him up the moment they saw him in person!”

Dipper lets out a strangled sound from his throat. Despite the… everything, his face feels hot, turning pink with embarrassment.

He glares at this smug, double-talking jackass. Bill beams back at him with unashamed delight.

From the side, Mabel hisses in annoyance at his reaction. She gestures towards Bill insistently, waving over his body, his arms. She points at his face twice, eyes wide like Dipper hasn’t seen it yet.

But there’s no point in her pointing. Dipper’s well acquainted with every part of his boyfriend. 

Including his tendency to not mention important facts.

So there’s the reason she was late. The reasons for the magic pulses - of course his stupid demon wouldn’t give him any heads up that he was already planetside. And the reason why the guy she met was oh-so-conveniently into nerds, especially ones related to Mabel friggin’ Pines. 

Why did Dipper think mentioning his family was a good idea? It’s only given Bill more chances for chaos. 

Or in this case, a really stupid prank.

“Now let’s see,” Bill says, more contemplative now. His eye roves over Dipper, head to toe. “What else you got going, kid?”

But. Okay, the attention’s nice. It’s never not been nice, even when it’s been creepy and strange and inhuman. 

Maybe playing along a little couldn’t hurt?

“I-” Dipper starts rubbing the back of his neck. If he looks his boyfriend in the eye while lying like a rug, he’ll never pull this off. “Well, I-”

“Oh! Like I said, he’s really into magic. Like you!” Mabel interrupts, bouncing in place. Her voice lowers, as if sharing a secret. “He does freelance work, y’know?”

“Is that so!” Bill’s mouth forms a perfect ‘o’ of surprise. Dipper half expects him to clap a hand to his cheek in astonishment. “Why, I never! A monster hunter? Right in front of me?”

“You betcha!” Proudly, Mabel sets fists on her hips. All too eager to hype man her brother before he’s said anything himself. “On the track of a dangerous criminal and everything!”

“Wow!” Bill, looking suitably impressed, somehow avoids having his pants set aflame from the sheer force of lying. “I bet he’s a nasty customer, too! A real devilish fellow!”

God, the puns hurt. Dipper can’t help but make a face, which gets another disappointed look from his sister, and a sinister gleam starts building up in Bill’s eye - 

Alright, that’s enough. 

Lying to Mabel would have been bad enough - but between their discussion and Dipper not getting a word in, Bill’s getting so full of himself that he might just explode. And that needs nipping in the bud, immediately.

Dipper shoves Bill back a pace, brushing off his shirt. He gives this asshole the full narrow-eyed glare and, ignoring the aghast look from his sister, flips his asshole boyfriend off. 

“Hey!” Affronted, Mabel takes a step in, taking his arm. “What the heck, Dipper?”

“Mabel, listen,” Dipper starts, only to get shushed by his sister and turned to face Bill by said asshole.

“And you’re feisty as well? Jackpot!” Bill beams, taking his head in his hands. “Now, let’s see about the rest of ya.”

Before Dipper can guess what that means  - or even ask - Bill tugs his shirt up. The only reason it doesn’t come completely off is because Dipper recognizes the motion and jerks his arms down in time. 

“Hey!” He struggles with Bill’s grip on his shirt, planting a palm on Bill’s face as he leans in for closer inspection. “What the hell, man?”

“Yep, that’s a fighter alright! Real nice view!” Bill says, after lingering too long ogling unwillingly exposed flesh. He lets the shirt drop - Dipper spends a second straightening it out - only to grab onto his butt next in a full-palm fondle. “Aha! Now that’s where it’s at!”

It’s so like Bill to start flinging compliments while completely breaking every polite convention known to man. He can never do anything straightforward. Possibly he’s allergic. With a swear, Dipper grapples with his jackass boyfriend again, trying to retain some semblance of dignity. 

Mabel stands off to the side, mouth agape. Silently staring between the two of them, too stunned to react. 

Clearly she wasn’t expecting this kind of crap. And honestly? Dipper can’t blame her. Bill’s pretty good at covering his asshole tendencies when he wants. 

Dipper can handle it, though. He’s already halfway pried the groping grasp off his butt when Bill’s other hand rotates to the front, taking hold with alarming swiftness. The high-pitched yelp he lets out is, thankfully, only from surprise.

“Hey!” And that gesture must have finally shaken Mabel from her shock, because now she looks offended. “Bill! What are you doing?”

“Cute, smart, decent body - he’s just like you said! The whole package!” Bill gives his handful a friendly jiggle, looking thrilled to have found a part to grab where he can’t get smacked away lest there be collateral damage. He turns towards Mabel with a grin. “How’s twenty bucks sound?”

The alarmed “What the hell!” from her comes out at the same time as Dipper’s offended, “Only twenty?”

“Oh, no no no,” Mabel waves her hands rapidly, the sleeves of her sweater nearly covering them in the rush.  “He’s not for sale, what the heck!”

“Oh, of course!” Bill releases Dipper’s crotch to smack himself dramatically on the forehead, shaking his head. “Because he’s his own person! With his own life decisions and everything!” His expression turns serious, nodding as if he actually cared about that fact. “No problem, Shooting Star! I’ll just kidnap him instead.”

A sudden swipe behind Dipper’s knees sends him into a swearing fall. One that’s quickly interrupted as he’s scooped up into Bill’s arms, startled and staring into an excited smile. 

Bill gives Mabel a perfunctory half-bow, bounces Dipper in his arms once - then starts sprinting down the street. 

To Mabel’s credit, there’s only a half-second pause before she follows.

“Help! Brother-napping in progress! Stop, you creep!” Mabel shouts, almost louder than Bill can manage. With some effort, Dipper peeks over his shoulder to see a flail of color trailing behind after them, one sweater-clad arm shaking in fury. “You better let him go, or you’ll regret this!”

Bill cackles louder, chest shaking - and one thing about being a demon is that he can really book it when he needs to. 

Dipper finds himself clinging to his ‘kidnapper’ tight, just to feel more comfortable about not being dropped. Not that he needs to worry about that. Even sprinting full-out and laughing, Bill’s not even breathing hard as he flees the wrath of righteousness. 

Dipper thunks his head against his awful, stupid boyfriend’s shoulder, and rolls his eyes. 

Welp. He’s not sure what else he expected. 

Bill’s always going to be Bill, after all. An evil, bored, antagonising force, bent on finding the funniest thing to do and jerking people around by it at every turn. And a vengeful, chaotic asshole. 

It’s hardly surprising that he and he took offense at someone arranging dates with his boyfriend. Whether or not Mabel knew their situation doesn’t matter in his view. It’s the principle of the thing - and, of course, a chance to be a total dick. 

But all things considered, it’s hardly the worst case scenario. 

Bill could have laid on the charm, gaslighting her into thinking he was a different kind of guy. Something that would make their introduction easier - and have her totally ignoring Dipper’s warnings about what kind of guy he is. 

But freaking her out was too funny, and that showed his true colors. And thank fuck for that. The last thing Dipper needs is another handsome guy charming her into a series of Bad Ideas.

As they round a street corner, Dipper uses the momentum to kick a leg free, planting heel against pavement. Bill slows as he tries to both stop him from falling and continue dragging him along. 

“Aw, c’mon,” Bill chides, making a valiant attempt to pick Dipper up again. “Let’s ditch the sibling and get moving! As far as she knows, I’m gonna do all kinds of dastardly things to ya. Terrible ones!” His eye glimmers, briefly unfocused - and Dipper takes the moment of distraction to get both feet on the ground. “Aww, hey!”

“Not a chance.” Dipper says, less annoyed than he’d like. He dodges another grab by stepping neatly to the side. “You’ve had your fun. Now at least try to behave for like, five seconds.”

One look at Bill’s face says that he’s not done with the fun, or at least thoroughly annoyed at its interruption - which means Dipper has to sweeten the pot. 

“I’m sure she’s panicking as we speak,” He adds, rolling his eyes at Bill’s look of pride. “And it was kinda funny. But at least try to good impression, jackass.” Resting a palm on Bill’s arm, he offers a shy smile. “Please?”

“Hmmm.” Bill hums thoughtfully. A second later, he shrugs. “Eh, sure! Probably wasn’t gonna get much mileage outta dragging it out anyway.”

Yep. Another win for Dipper Pines. He’s getting good at this demon-wrangling stuff. 

“Hey!” Mabel rounds the corner, steps clearly flagging. She leans against he building, then glares at Bill. “You can’t just-” 

Then she leans over, bracing herself on her knees as she tries to catch her breath. Dipper’s surprised she caught up this fast, but it wasn’t without effort - he thinks one of her bracelets is missing, and her hair is a mess. 

Dipper offers her a hand, but she waves it off. There’s a thoughtful sound behind him, then arms circle his waist and drag him back into Bill’s grasp. 

“So. I see you’ve met Bill.” Dipper says, finally. He glares a bit over his shoulder as Billtugs him closer to settle in, chin tucked on his shoulder. Probably wearing the very smuggest smile he owns.

“Dipper, I’m sorry,” Mabel blurts. She’s still catching her breath, face red as she flails her sleeves in inarticulate protest. “I didn’t know-”

“That he was an asshole? A jerk? A totally weird creep?” Dipper holds up his hands before she can apologize again. “No, it’s fine. I already knew that. He’s… actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

She pauses, taking in their position. How Dipper’s not struggling, or swearing, or hexing the shit out of his ‘kidnapper’. The worried frown turns more… contemplative. The lightbulb flickers. 

Dipper takes a steadying breath. 

Here goes.

“Mabel, this is… Bill Cipher.” He gestures at Bill, then shoves his head away from his neck before he can leave a hickey. “He’s my boyfriend.”

Mabel boggles at him. There’s no other word for it. Eyes wide, mind clearly racing as she ties in what just happened with how Bill looks and what she thought everything was like just five minutes ago. 

She takes a second, before finally landing on, “What?”

Yeah, that’s a reasonable reaction. 

But if they got along earlier, they’ll… probably get along okay, right? Now that Bill’s got the initial bullshit out of his system, they might even have stuff in common. 

Thank hell for that. Romance is kind of her thing, of course she’s interested. Good thing too. Compared to the rest of his family, Mabel is easy mode. 

Only a second later she claps her hands to her cheeks, gasping hugely. Dipper can almost see the questions about to burst out.

“Let’s go back, get some coffee, and I’ll tell you everything.” Dipper smiles, but speaks before she can start interrogating them on the street. He shrugs Bill off, getting his hand seized in the process. He squeezes it back.  “Trust me, it’s a long story.”

[wormchaser]

you are complaining about complaining too much while complaining about the fact that maybe people dont like you because you complain too much while complaining about being alone. just stop complaining and do something about it. talk to people. reach out. dont just wait for someone to come to you first.

i have tried reaching out to different people in the past year or so but it never works. i understand its my own fault for letting relationships decay because of my own insecurities and issues but that doesn't mean i can just will myself to think or believe different things about myself. it's a self fulfilling prophecy ; i think people don't like me so i don't reach out so people don't like me etc . i am sure you do not want to hear me list all the things i want to say in response so i will put them in the tags.

[icewindandboringhorror]

"We can get through this by working together, reach out to your friends, community is all we have, a social network will be your security in the world, now is the time to lean on others!"

I do agree, and it's scientifically sound (pretty sure there is data about how people with better social networks live longer and etc) but also....augh..... what about the severe social issues, difficulty to leave the house, physical issues which lead to like zero socialization energy a majority of the time, etc. etc. Social support can be a replacement for structural support, but.. I guess I just wish it didn't have to be. Community is extremely difficult to build, even moreso if you're someone who has issues with social cues or group conversations or even just being around others in the first place. And blah, nuance, of course I'm just complaining or maybe being too negative or maybe misunderstanding, but, I hardly have the energy to brush my hair once every 2 months.. how am I supposed to maintain a wide social network and be active in a Community and Join Groups lol... sometimes it kind of feels like "er.. well if thats my only option then...... ruh roh". It's overwhelming

[strtravels]

“An' where d'you wanna go as a foreign exchange student? – Want me to ring Uncle JP an' just tell 'im you’d love to move to Geneva to learn two more languages? I can't really see you bein' 'appy there neither, Gordy.” A gentle shake of his head; the joke caught and bringing a soft smile to his lips, too. – He understood how difficult it had to be for Gordy, in some way at least, and running away from a situation that was scaring you, wasn’t cowardly in his eyes; and sending Gordy back to school tomorrow had nothing to do with thinking it was the right thing to do, so his son didn’t turn out a coward. It was just the right thing to do. School was important. And well, you couldn’t just have those kids win, right? They couldn’t just go around and scaring other kids until they wouldn’t come back to school any more. PERHAPS he should talk to a teacher – but Gordy’s loud NO had taken his mind off this option for now. At some point he should, though. It couldn’t just go on like this. What if Gordy was just one of my kids, embarrassed and bullied for something that really wasn’t even a choice?

Furrowed his brows at his son’s reaction, but just nodded after a moment. “Alright – I’ll drop ya at school, then I’m off to work. No bleedin’ talkin’ to yer teachers. No havin’ a chat with the kids, sound? – I don’t even need to ask if I should chat with their parents, eh?” Another short smile, before he patted his son’s shoulder; a gesture supposed to say that things would be looking better in the morning, even though he knew it would be difficult, if not even impossible, for Gordy to believe it. He was young and for him, it had to look like the end of the world. School wasn’t always easy. It hadn’t been easy for himself, either. He remembered some comments. Some rude words that had buried themselves deep in his memories.

Sighed quietly at his own thoughts, before he pushed them aside and decided they had made enough circles around the same topic. Not much more left to say about it for now, right?

“Yeah, the livin' room it is, when yer mum’s up for 'em stayin' over. – It’s meant to rain tonight too, so I didn’t fancy you campin' outside an’ draggin' mud in when ya eventually come in, anyway. I still think Howie ain’t that fussed about campin', too. – An' you aren’t either, are ya? Not me brightest idea takin' you lot campin' last holiday, was it?” Chuckled at those memories. Rain-soaked tents and the sniffling of three boys sitting around a fire, because this hadn’t turned out like in one of their games at all – and wasn’t much like sleeping the night in the tree house or a tent in the garden either, where there was still access to the house and all its luxuries.

“ – But y’know what, ya can help me shift one of them sofas later to make a bit o’ space for you three, yeah? Get everything sorted. – I proper reckon yer mum’s not gonna say NO, if ya promise to behave this time, keepin’ yer bedtime an’ all that. – An’ just be ready ‘cause one of yer sisters is bound to ask for a sleepover next.” Another gentle laugh. He knew his kids. He knew the chaos that always just followed the previous chaos – and he wouldn’t want it any other way, would he? A life without any of the kids seemed impossible to imagine. Who would he be without them?

Raising his hand to ruffle his son’s dark hair at his thought, there was another idea forming in his head. He could have thought about this a bit earlier, too! “An’ maybe I oughta ring Jean-Paul, like. You can hav’ a chat with ’im about this as well. It weren’t easy for ’im in the military, was it? Aye, he's a bit older than Artie, but that’s at least two people you can talk to.”

Gordy's been at that age where he feels like he doesn't need to discuss things with his parents very often for a while now. Some kid at school making comments? He can sort it by himself, doesn't need adult intervention ( at least not from home ). Issues with his homework or a teacher or a grade on a test? He can deal with it, doesn't need to delay going to bed in order to talk things through. Maybe it's a shame, but it doesn't feel like a major issue; he still talks to his parents about things, but when he does, it's because things are serious and / or he genuinely needs help to work something through.

Dad's always heard him out, no matter the issue, the time or the place --- Gordy's never not been able to talk to either of his parents, but especially his dad. This, though? This is uncharted territory for Gordy, anxiety-inducing on just how quickly the situation in the park had escalated to the point he'd just needed to escape and come home to the familiarity and safety just stepping through the front door could bring.

His eyes flick over to Dad's laptop and work pile when they're indicated, but he's too cried out by now to feel bad for interrupting; he's too cried out to do much more than slump down onto the tabletop, head resting on his arms as he watches his father pour out a glass of lemonade. Now that his emotions aren't running so high, he'd like nothing more than to crawl into bed, pull the covers up over his head and just sleep for a year, especially at the thought of returning to school to face those boys again tomorrow.

The disappointment of being denied homeschooling is, for the most part, for show; Gordy hadn't really expected anything else ( it's not the first time he's asked over the years ), but there's still some part of him that wishes that just this once, Dad would agree and he'd never have to go back to confront the reality of the afternoon. "But the foreign exchange is still on the table, right?" A joke that falls a little flat - Gordy takes a sip of lemonade and a couple of breaths, turning instinctively into the hand on his shoulder ( he hates to be the cause of Dad's serious expression ).

"I just really don't want to go back tomorrow," he admits quietly, running a finger absently around the rim of his drinking glass, "even if Howie and Chloe are going to be there, and I'll see Josh and Sami after." The offer to have a word with Gordy's teachers is met, again, with a strong no! Christ, all he wants is one day to himself, one day to get his head straight and stop the sickening feeling of dread from taking over completely. Telling the teachers what had happened would only lead to more issues later on; the only way through this was to keep his head down and get good enough grades to go away to uni, really ( and it was shaping up to be a long couple of years ). "---Living room, please."

[isablooo]

every time i blink theyre doing another terrible adaptation of a gothic novel will i ever be free