#bill finds pain funny)

[uncleardyn]

(aw-gf crossover) possessed guys feat. a possession swap for funsies

[messenger-of-babel]

Voicemails

Summary: When complications arise on his mission, all he has is one phone call back to you. (Death Island! Leon x reader)

Word Count: 2.1K

Notes: It really does end here, huh? 🥹 This is the last post for this month. We have officially finished Angstober 2024. Thank you to everyone who liked, commented, reblogged, followed, and sent me things to my inbox. It's going to be weird not writing for you all every day, but you'll still see me around. I'm going to take a small break and write in the background, get through requests and stuff. I'm moving house and graduating at the same time so I might not post a whole lot till I'm settled again, but then you can count on me for more than angst!

General warnings for language use, spoilers for Death Island if you haven't seen it (you should it's quite funny), and a mildly OOC Leon but we can all be saps sometimes. Warping the events of the movie to my own benefit.

Enjoy our last post of this month, sweethearts~

RiRi xx

━━━━━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"You wanna make a call?" Chris grunts, looking down at him. Leon looks up at him, vision blurry and pain radiating through his body. His neck stings from where the microdrone bit him, and he can no longer feel anything from his thighs down, just a numb tingle. He has to consciously remind himself to breathe, in through the nose and out through the mouth.

"You got- you got a way?" he rasps back, eyes scrunching in confusion. Chris nods, the bigger man bucking slightly against the cell wall he's leaning against.

"Left- left pocket." he grits out. "Claire got the signal through before we got bit. It's only strong enough for one call, then Dylan's framework will probably patch it."

Leon sighs, head hitting the rusted bars of Alcatraz. This had been another run of the mill mission, find the missing scientist selling government secrets, pack him up and ship him back to the government to be trialled at court. In the true fashion of his 'run of the mill missions', nothing went according to that plan and veered off into a clusterfuck as usual. The BSAA had been involved chasing their own leads, and he had run into Jill in the sewers running from zombies. the plague that seemed to follow him like a shadow ever since he left Raccoon as a young and very traumatised cop.

He was supposed to get in and out, wrap it up so he could come home to you like he promised. As he sat there writhing, he wondered what the look on your face would be if he wasn't able to make it to the cruise that you had both planned. You had lobbied both him and the DSO for a holiday, and after many angry letters and snatching the phone out of his hand to yell at his supervisor, you had succeeded in getting him two months off. Without hesitation you had booked the both of you on a cruise, shushing him every time he had tried to protest.

If he was being honest, just sleeping at home would have been enough. He could barely remember the last time that he had sat down or stopped for a moment. The days that he was at the office or on a mission blurred together so often that he was beginning to forget what colour you had both decided to paint the kitchen, making him falter when coworkers made small talk with him in the staff room. Which side of the bed you preferred to sleep on, what bills needed to be paid first, whether the spare bedroom was being turned into an office or a workshop or not. It was when his forgetfulness led him to forget what month it was and being blindsided to your own anniversary that he finally snapped out of it.

You had been sitting on the porch steps dressed in your finery, watery eyes looking up at him as he pulled into the driveway, your knees pulled to your chest. He had jumped from the car like you were shot, the realisation of what he had done thrumming hard in his chest. "I'm so sorry" he had murmured into your hair, holding you tight. "I am so so sorry."

You had just sniffled in response and eventually gave him a weak hug back, and he clung to that like a lifeline. He swore that he would never fuck up like that again, and he intended to keep that promise.

So, he had relented to the cruise vacation, telling himself that he would be able to relax and unwind on the seas and out of service of work. They could call another agent for once, he wanted to focus on nothing but the smile you wore as you got to carry out the couple things he felt he had denied you your entire relationship. Getting to use the swim up bar, taking photos together, dressing in matching clothes for the cheesy cruise quiz nights. If that was what you wanted, that is what he was going to give you. Besides, it gave him a chance to relish in you again.

You, who had cancelled the wedding of your dreams to get married at the courthouse with him when he got called away suddenly and you weren't sure if you would see him again. You had been married within hours with the rings he had picked and you in the finest you could find on such short notice. He had thought you looked stunning, even if the lighting was the harsh LED of the courthouse and not candles like you had wanted.

You, who had put up with months of him being gone, not knowing if he was dead or alive. Who had to stay up late tracking the news for crumbs of his whereabouts, only able to make guesses to where he might have been assigned. Every death, every bioterrorist attack overseas carrying the possibility that Leon's body was among those being pulled from the carnage.

You, who he was calling right now with the jacked cell phone from Chris's pocket, dial tone droning on.

Leon had been stung last, used as nothing more than an example to show off the latest weapon in the bioterror market. Yet he was losing feeling fast, much faster than Chris or even Claire struggling in the other cell. It was like his atoms were screaming at him, writhing in him at a molecular level. Breathing felt like it was through a damp cloth, lungs having to work twice as hard to suck oxygen into his lungs. His eyelids were struggling to stay awake and fight off the black curtains that floated in the corners. he could see the way that the others looked at him, with pity and with concern. As soon as he had caught the eye of Chris, saw the flicker of fear cross the usually confident man's face, he knew that he was reacting worse than all of them.

So here he was, heart in his throat as he prepared to tell you the words he hadn't been expecting to say when he left that morning. When the line doesn't pick up he curses, waiting for the tone. He wasn’t going to waste his chance.

"Hi! If I haven't picked up, I can't come to the phone right now. If you leave a message, I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Please wait for the beep, thank you!"

He smiles to himself at the chipper tone of your voice, sounding heaven sent even through the phone. When he hears the tone he takes a deep breath, as big as he can and puts a fake smile on his face. He hopes that it makes his tone come out just a little sweeter for you, even though he knows that you'll be worried regardless.

"Hey, Sweetheart." he starts, voice raspy. "I'm sorry to be calling you like this. I just wanted to call to hear your voice. I-I missed you. I know you didn’t pick up, so you're probably busy. Now don't call me back immediately, I... won’t be able to pick up for a while. I just...damnit I wanted to just hear you." He grits out, head falling against the bars as he loses strength in his neck. He catches eyes with Chris, the older man's eyes misting over as he looks down at him before he turns his head away, the most privacy he can give him in the situation.

"I just wanted to call to let you know that I love you...and I miss you." he begins again. With his eyes closed the words come easier, the image of you flitting into his mind's eye. You look at him in his spectral vision with a smile, encouraging him to go on. He feels his chest ease, like he's actually talking to you, and the both of you are the only ones in the room. "I know you're going to worry. I know this doesn't sound good-" he grits his teeth against another hot flash of pain. "And... it’s not." he finishes. "I want to tell you…that I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't think I'm gonna make it home tonight, baby. I... I might not make it back from this." he tries to chuckle, but the sound is dry, and the effort hurts his chest. "Things got bad here, and it's not looking good. I think- I think it ends here, honey. If I don't make it just...just, please look after yourself."

He takes a shaky breath, and the silence of everyone around him is deafening. The scene is oddly private and uncomfortable for the others in the vicinity, while the usually ever-energetic man known as Leon delivers his verbal will. "I know you won’t want to go, but go on that cruise. You worked hard for it, and you were so excited. I wanted to go swimming with you, fall asleep by the pool and pretend it was the honeymoon I owe you. So, I want you to still go on it. Even if I don't come back...I'll ask the big man above to let me hang around long enough to do it with you, even if you won't be able to see me. I made a promise remember? No more missing big things." he whispers into the phone.

His throat is beginning to hurt, like speaking around a sharp lump every time he formed a word. "And the house is yours, it should go into your name. The car, everything, you'll have it all. I just...I just wish it could have been different, you know?" he says into the receiver, that has begun to waver by his cheek. "But it is what it is, and I guess it finally caught up to me. I'm sorry I was such a shitty husband." he says, a light tremor in his voice. "I wish I had come home to you more, not left the bed cold. I wish I could have made you more dinners and more breakfasts in bed, just to show you how much I loved you. I love you. I love you so much it hurts. I never told it to you enough, or managed to even put into actions just how much you mean to me, but I do. You mean everything, sweetheart." he chokes into the phone, a small smile on his face. "I love you more than anything, so...so don't think anything else, okay? This isn't your fault. It never was. You were the best thing that ever happened to me, you hear me? So you pick yourself up when I'm gone," he gasps out, hand beginning to waver. "You put yourself back in that saddle, and you show the world just how strong you are. Show them the person I fell in love with." he says with a smile, before breaking into a fit of painful coughs.

"Don't stay up, sweetheart. Get to bed early. I miss you, more than you'll ever know." he coughs out into the receiver before his body can't hold him up anymore and he slides down the bars until his cheek is pressing into the concrete, hand falling to his side and phone clattering against the stone. He can hear the tone end, and the automated whoosh sound as the voicemail sends. With bleary eyes he can make out the turned head of Claire, looking down at him with wobbling lips and tear-filled eyes.

"Look after 'em, hey?" he rasps out, pain in his chest stabbing as the black curtains begin to slide across his vision. Claire nods, and he can hear Chris grunt in the background. Leon falls into an unconsciousness shortly after, the smiling image of you the last thing he holds close to him as the blackness swallows him completely. As his body stills, a small smile is frozen on his face, the arrogant half tilted smirk he so loved to give you.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Typing away at your computer, you work till your eyes go square from the computer screen. You wipe a hand over your face as you review the spreadsheet that you're working on, leaning back to take a sip of your coffee. Your music blasts in your headphones, and for a quick break you pull up the checklist you've made for your upcoming holiday.

You're so engrossed in your work that you're unaware as your phone screen glows to life beside you, message popping across your notification bar.

You have (1) new voicemails.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Imagine Bill/Stanford x a clumsy reader who is constantly getting injured or stumbling and bumping into something.

Going on a long hike? Reader falls and busts their fuckin knee. Walking by the fridge after grabbing a snack? Slips over a puddle of water and breaks their wrist.

I'm genuinely curious as to how they would respond separately, constantly having to deal with reader's shit.

Love your content, by the way. Keep up the good work! :D 💗

Bill cipher

Finds it funny, after all pain is hilarious to him but it’s made even more funnier if someone else is doing it to themselves.

Don’t expect him to help you in any way shape or form, he’s like one of those friends who’ll laugh as you fall down the stairs before ever thinking of helping you back up.

But in this instance he just leaves you in pain and gets all bothered when you’re all healed up again, claiming that you’re not as fun as you are when you’re injured. So I’d watch your step for the next couple of days for banana peels or anything that could cause you physical harm.

You’re his very own version of you’ve been framed with how often you managed to end up hurting yourself over near enough everything, so much so that he just develops a sixth sense when you’re about to hurt yourself and appears just in time to whiteness it with some deer teeth.

Needless to say Bill will find your sprained ankles, busted kneecaps and broken arms hilarious and might even record his favourite ones to look back on when he’s bored to reminisce over the good times. (I don’t know what else you expect of me for him. It’s bill cipher, he’s the least helpful dude in existence)

Stanford Pines

Poor guy had gotten more and more grey hairs because of how accident prone you are. He would like you very much in one piece thank you very much.

Also he’s got good reflexes for a man of his age and would most likely be able to catch you by the arm or the waist before you even fall or trip while asking if you were okay with the most concerned look upon his face.

He’ll gladly let you use him as crutch when you’ve tripped and busted your knee or sprained your ankle, anything that he could do to make sure that you were in less pain then you already were, Ford will do it in a heartbeat in hopes that he’d never have to do this again. Only to later come to terms that he was with the most clumsiest person in all of Gravity Falls, and that he would be used as your personal crutch constantly.

After a couple more accidents and Ford is already carrying a makeshift first aid kit and had done intensive research on all he needed to deal with things like bruises, cuts and sprains just for you. However he’ll always try to move you away from any and all potential hazards, only for him to look back at you to see that you’ve somehow managed to trip on thin air and bruise your chin.

You’re lucky this man loves you dearly because you had proven yourself to be a handful at some cases, but Ford knew it wasn’t your fault and would never make it out to be your fault in the slightest. And yet the temptation to baby proof everything -especially the lab- was strong within him, but would rather keep an eye on you himself to make sure you somehow didn’t hurt yourself on the corner of a table or counter.

He only knew you would because you did bump into the corner of a table once and tried to hide it from him, but he knew you better then most and immediately gets an ice pack for your bruise. At this point you being accident prone was about as normal as waking up to being covered in Mabel’s stickers or almost tripping over Waddles because he was sleeping nearby.

Yes you once tripped over waddles because he was sleeping near your bed once, did you hurt yourself? Obviously. Did Ford have to take care of you? Of course he did but he didn’t mind taking care of you now and then as you did the exact same whenever he got himself hurt. You weren’t aloud in certain places without Ford because there was too much where you could hurt yourself on, that and Ford didn’t feel like having a heart attack every five seconds you came even remotely close to injuring yourself. Again.

He kisses your bruises and cuts. Fight me I’m in a soft mood.

[yurinaa-world]

Sampo, Jing Yuan, Ratio and Gepard got body swap with female reader

"𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝑜𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝑜𝒹𝓎?!"

💫𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Sampo, Jing Yuan, Ratio and Gepard

💫𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: Body Swap?!

💫𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff, & Spelling Mistakes

💫𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈: Sorry Im not posting too much, I've got so much work 😔

💫𝒮𝒶𝓂𝓅𝑜 𝒦𝑜𝓈𝓀𝒾 "𝒯𝒽��� 𝒮𝒾𝓁𝓋𝑒𝓇-𝒯𝑜𝓃𝑔𝓊𝑒𝒹 𝒮𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓂𝒶𝓃"

This had to be some kind of nightmare, you shouldn’t have trusted Sampo at all, especially fighting a monster no less. Each breath you took felt like burning to your lungs while sharp pain hit your stomach.

Sampo, like the bastard he is, swoops in at the last second to take your glory, just to call it “teamwork.” Yet what both didn’t expect was the monster to explode and be sprayed like a fountain of gunk on both of your bodies, disgusting. Only to flicker your eyelids open to find a white-liquid-covered self staring back? Wait what’s happening?! 

Sampo doesn’t seem as freaked out as you do, honestly, he might just be enjoying this a tad bit too much, staring at anything that reflects your body, or saying things in your voice that you would never say! 

Yet, you’ll have to clean the gunk on your bodies soon. But that’s where the problem lies, it’s all Sampos fault.

It's funny, how you both stand in the bathroom, having a staring contest because you refuse to let him get in there, who knows what kinds of creepy things he’ll think about having all that “free access” To your body gives you the shivers. Your towel is wrapped around your chest even in Sampo’s body while he’s wrapped in a towel, note that it’s very loosely around your body as if it will fall off from a small gust of wind.

“You distrust me with your body that much? I thought we were close…”

No way this is going to work on you, not when your dignity is on the line.

“Not in the slightest do I trust you.”

“That’s just cruel, there’s gunk in my hair and there’s no way I’m spending my entire night smelling as if I’m from the streets.”

He was right, it’s not like you can avoid showering or he can either. The shower has been going in the background the whole time—it would be a waste of the already high water bill.

So the compromise is showering together, but you're pressed very close to each other, your chest against his—after all, he doesn’t want you to see his family jewels either…it feels weird holding yourself… so close, especially when it’s Sampo doing far too much while in your body.

“You call me a pervert but here you are…” you would never say that, never say in a tone like that, you would never make that expression…his hand goes to wrap itself around the back of your head, leaning down to only get the view of your face.

“Don’t…”

He was far too close, so close that you knew what he was thinking in that brain of his. Even when you tried to pull away he only pressed your foreheads together. “It’s just a secret deal between us,” He whispers in your voice, it feels weird looking at your face while in Sampo's body.

“Close your eyes.”

His lips still envelope your own, he made you experience from the outside in your body yet you, on the other hand, make him laugh with those shy, cheeks dusted with pink on your face.

“See, it doesn't feel so bad.”

The hand of your body lands on your chest while Sampo speaks through your voice in a sing-songy tone, which only gives shivers down your spine. “Don’t look down,”

💫𝒥𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝓊𝒶𝓃 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒢𝑒𝓃𝑒𝓇𝒶𝓁 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒳𝒾𝒶𝓃𝓏𝒽𝑜𝓊 𝒞𝓁𝑜𝓊𝒹 𝒦𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝓈"

“Jing yuan! Could stop lazing around! I think I might die if this continues!”

You couldn’t last another day like this. Playing general while he lazed around in yours, is the worse! Honestly, you might just get charged with impersonation of The General of the Loufu. It’s bad that even Yanqing noticed the change and has been looking at you funny.

You're still determining how it happened. Like a blur in your memory, but you want out! Like right this instant! But again, Jing Yuan is having a relaxed time in your body, as if he’d already retired from being General. Laying in your shared bed, while wearing loose sleeping attire he would usually wear in his body.

It was too big for your body, falling down your shoulder, and buttons on the bottom of the shirt opened up showing your stomach. Yet all of this went over his head, does it matter what he’s wearing not as if he’s ever left the house looking like that, so no need to worry about your dignity. Just lay beside him and tell him your worries.

“Yanqing is always looking at me funny, I might be charged with impersonation soon! What will I do then!” you complain staring at the ceiling with vain on popping from your forehead. An expression that he would never wear but it’s funny watching you freak while he lays on the side, listening to complaints about your day as him.

“You worry too much, nothing will happen,” he chuckles,  “It must have been lonely without me right? I was feeling so alone in this house without you,” he mutters, pushing his body up with a soft grunt escaping from his lips. His face right against your own, funny, how you’ve switched places, him pleading for your attention. Things don't change.

Always thinking about affection even if your bodies switched, what difference does the feeling make? You still have that blush while he grins down at you, before stealing your lips for a taste, a little mishap won’t stop him from loving you.

💫𝒱𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓈 𝑅𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜 "𝑀𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝐼𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒾𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈𝒾𝒶 𝒢𝓊𝒾𝓁𝒹"

“Looks like I’ve overpowered you this time, veritas.”

You seem to be having far too much fun with his body, far too much, looks like for the first time in your life you’ve actually “overpowered” him, in his body (not much of an achievement in life if you ask him). That smug expression you always make doesn’t suit the curvatures of his face in slightly. He would never act like that.

A scoff leaves his lips, crossing his arm, staring up at you with an intense gaze (that doesn’t suit you either) while you have him caged against the wall. He must commend you since you finally recreated a scene out of a romance novel under your current circumstances, you’ve probably been waiting to strike.

Yet even now, it seems like he’s overpowered you, giving you no satisfaction to your delusions. A scoff leaves his lips, well, your body's lips? Clicking his tongue while he’s at it. “You disappoint me with cheap tricks.” He mutters in your voice, staring at you like that, it’s bad that you can’t help but falter even though it’s coming to your body.

“Can’t you play along for once?!” You groan, feeling the awkwardness of his self-awareness. Completely letting go of your act just to complain about his unwillingness.  You truly are enjoying your time, so why doesn’t he as well? Even someone like you has advantages when it comes to your body.

After all, it isn’t all about strength, just a couple of cheap tricks (but it’s fine since it’s your body, so not too out of character). Watching you just roughly scratch the top of his head, ruffling the hair of his body. He just does the same thing you had done to him.

Pressing you against the wall, while his hand is beside your shoulder. Honestly, to anyone else, they would laugh hard at the sight of THE Dr. Ratio getting pinned against the wall as if it were a scene out of a romance novel.

“Veritas—“

“You talk too much, with such ignorance in your tone of voice.”

“Veritas! You put the shivers down my spine, seriously how did you do that in my body!?” You shriek like some kind of fan girl at a concert, just makes him frown at how you’re acting.

“Enough of this, are you even listening?”

💫𝒢𝑒𝓅𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝐿𝒶𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓊 "𝒞𝒶𝓅𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝒾𝓁𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓂𝒶𝓃𝑒 𝒢𝓊𝒶𝓇𝒹𝓈"

“I'm so sorry, I can’t!”

He can’t do this to you. Not when he’s in your body and you can’t do the same to him either. Both of you are a complete mess from the frozen dirt and snow, which is why you're like this right now, clothes wet (even after wearing so many layers), bodies cold (just asking to get sick), and both of you flustered because a body switch. 

Just looking at each other with red blush on your cheeks; your clothes soaked to the brim with cold water dripping down. You both have to take a shower, or you both are waiting to get sick. He feels it’s wrong to undress himself in your body, he can’t do that to a lady! He’s some kind of creep! 

“You can’t just stay like that, or else you’ll get sick,” you mutter with the same embarrassing mindset he’s carrying, your hands going to the shirt buttons of your body, he instantly snatched his head to the side, feeling the welt cloth shirt slowly whisks off his body leaving him shiver in the cold. He can’t force himself to look to the front. Not when your body has the top left on.

“Can you help me take off my shirt?” you breathed, feeling your ears and face get unbearable hot even when you were drenched in cold water. He kept his head high, not looking down for even a second when the hands of your body gently unbuttoned his shirt while your eyes shifted while gazing into his eyes, which made things worse for the both of you.

You could hear his breath hitch at a moment like this, the eye contact looked much, even in his body your eyes still told him what you were feeling, right now it was a bad thing, he felt his heart skip a beat.

“I won’t look anywhere but your eyes,” he reassures you once more.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[henry7931]

Haunted By A Horny Ghost

Travis:

6 months ago, I purchased my house and I got an amazing deal for it. Granted I’ve heard some of the rumors about it being haunted but I don’t really believe in that stuff. Or I didn’t until now!

I’d hear an occasional creaking of the stairs or some noise in the hallway. I always told myself that I’m just getting worked up from some made up story. And at no point did I actually see any evidence, no shadow figures, objects floating, idk things ghost do.

And I have a lot of personal stuff going on, being single and young can be tough. And I have a lot of bills to pay.

But a few weeks ago, my step dad’s nephew Brad (or my step cousin) came to me after a bad break up and needing somewhere to live— I figured a roommate for a little bit could help me save up some cash.

Brad is your typical straight guy, loves sports, goes to sport bars at night when he’s not at his construction job.

I figured living with him couldn’t be that bad. That said, in practicality he’s a bit of a slob at home and his room is a mess. Dirty laundry laying everywhere, he brings over his buds and girls over for late night hook ups. He can be a bit of a pain at times but I have to remember that I’m getting half of my mortgage paid right now.

But one night, Brad came home late like 2 in the morning. I was still up myself. I was supposed to have a guy come over that night since I knew I had the place to myself but unfortunately he cancelled last minute.

So I was a little drunk and horny. When I heard the Brad’s Uber pull up, I peaked out the window to see if he brought anyone home. Luckily, it was just him clumsy climbing out of the car.

As I watch him approach the door, I see him struggling to get it open.

I roll my eyes, I guess I’ll help him out.

I head to the stairs, when I hear the door finally open up. I start to turn back around when out of nowhere I hear Brad screaming on the top of his lungs.

I rush down the stairs only to see something that I never thought I’d ever see…

Brad is standing by the shut door while astral smoke shaped like a person forces itself down his throat.

Unsure what to do, I stood frozen in one spot. I watched whatever was forcing itself into Brad go all the way into him.

His eyes close… and then reopen. He takes a deep breath of air.

“God it feels so good to breathe again! Wait a minute, am I drunk??”

He starts laughing to myself and I try to back up. I take my back leg and try to step backwards. But the floor are wooden and old. As I step back, he hears it and looks directly at me.

“Oh it’s you! Travis right?”

“Ahhh shit!!!”

I rush up the stairs running in a panic. All I can hear in the background is Brad’s voice saying, “Wait!!! Stop running!!”

I get to my bedroom, I lock the door and try to think of a game plan to get out.

I look around my room, think to myself— I could tie my sheets together and go out the window.

That’s when I hear a knock.

“Travis, it’s me. I don’t know what all you saw but can we talk?”

What can I do? Risk the chance of breaking my neck by going out the window or reason with the ghost now inhabiting Brad not to kill me.

“Travis! I promise I’m not going to hurt you!! Please open up!” he says banging louder.

I look around my room for something I could use as a weapon but unfortunately the only thing I can find is a clothing hanger.

“Hey im going to open up but you better not try anything funny!” I say back to him holding the hanger in hand.

“You have my word, I won’t harm you.”

With the coat hanger in one hand, I carefully unlock the door and open it.

Standing outside of the door is Brad’s body, grinning at me.

“Well hi, what are you going to do with that coat hanger?”

“Protect myself!” I blurt out.

He starts laughing at me and says, “well fyi if you hit me with it you’re just hurting this guy. Plus, he’s a lot taller than you.”

“Fuck, fine.”

I lower the coat hanger and let him come in.

He glides into the room and he seems to be enjoying himself.

I watch him and he eventually says to me, “so ask the question you want to know the answer to.”

“Huh?”

“I know you want answers, so ask.”

“Okay… are you a ghost?”

“Yes”

“And is Brad still alive?”

“Also, yes— he’s in here but in like a dormant state while I drive.”

I feel somewhat realized to know that Brad’s okay.

“So why are you possessing Brad when I’ve been here longer.”

“Well who’s to say I haven’t possessed you?”

“WHAT?!?”

“Kidding, no Brad’s my first time taking over someone. I honestly wasn’t sure if it was due able but I did it! The real question you should be asking is what made me choose tonight to try and take over Brad.”

“Okay, why tonight?”

“Well… Travis, I’ve been watching you since you moved in. I hope that’s not too creepy. Being a ghost and stuck inside a house, leaves me with very little to do. But you and I have a lot in common. Both of us are gay, we share a lot of the same interests. Hell you and I even like the same porn. I guess what I’m saying is that, I have a bit of a crush on you. And after seeing you get stood up tonight, I felt like you deserve someone to uhh— keep you company.”

I was shocked, not only has a gay ghost been watching me for over six months but he’s now flirting with me?

“Sorry if this is a bit much but I find you to be so attractive. And now that I have a body, I was hoping you would be down to have a little fun together.”

“Uhhh I don’t know what to say, it’s a bit strange since that is Brad’s body.”

“Oh really? So you didn’t sneak into his room the other week and take his dirty socks just to jerk off while inhaling them.”

“Oh god you saw me do that?”

“Yeah and it was hot as fuck! Listen, I know Brad’s body may not be your first choice but he’s straight guy cute. And I know you’ve thought about him in ways you’d normally wouldn’t admit. But right now, I’m in control of him and you can do whatever you want with me.”

He starts pulling off all of Brad’s clothes until he’s fully naked. I can’t help but stare at Brad’s massive dick swinging between his legs.

He gets into my bed and reaches for Brad’s cock. He gingerly play with it while watching me.

“Travis, please join me. This cock is so eager right now, you can smell my big stinky feet. I haven’t bathed all day…”

He runs brads fingers between his taint and balls. He lifts up his hand and sniffs it.

“Fuccccckkk, you need to come get a whiff of my balls.”

I’m so hard now. I walk over to him and out for Brad’s left foot. I bring it up to my face and sniff it.

I feel myself slowly lose control of the situation and just accept all of the lust running through me.

“I knew you like these feet Trav. Here come taste this cock.”

He holds it up like a prize, I take it out of his hands and press the head of it to my lips.

It’s so warm… I lick the tip of it and rub my tongue down his shaft. When I get to his balls, I take in a breath. Just consuming the smell of them.

“That’s it, doesn’t that smell so good.”

“Mhmmm…”

I pull off my clothes and I notice his eyes go straight to my dick.

“You wanna touch it?” I say to him.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to touch it.”

I come closer to him and he gently touches my dick. He makes a moaning sound and I notice pre-cum leaks out of Brad’s dick.

“You have the handsomest dick I’ve ever seen,” he says to me.

“Thanks haha.”

“No I mean it. You’re so cute Travis. Between your green eyes, brown curly hair, that freckle right above your happy trail, your sexy hairy legs, and those beautiful feet. Can I see them?”

“Sure.”

I let him take my feet into his hands and watch him press them against his face.

I let him lick my soles for a minute before he stops to say, “ you wanna take this up a notch?”

I nod my head and he pulls me in for a kiss. I can taste the whiskey Brad was drinking earlier.

We start making out and both of us are tangled up, our feet rubbing up and down on one another’s legs. Both of us have each other’s junk in our hand.

I feel around until I grab on to one of his butt cheeks.

He let’s do so much to him. Suck on his toes, sniff his pits, play with his nipples… and in return u let him do the same.

By the end, it’s morning. We’ve spent the entire night just edging each other.

By this point, he has Brad’s toes wrapped around my dick and I try to hold back but my cock has been toyed with for over 4 hours now.

I let out this loud moan and streams of cum squirt onto Brad’s feet.

He keeps stroking it with his toes until every last drop has been drained out of me.

He takes Brad’s cum soaked feet and licks every inch of them off.

He calls for me gesturing for me to finish him off.

I grab his dick and force it down my throat. I do it over and over until he immediately comes down it.

Both of us exhausted, lay back in my bed. I cuddled up to him and say, “hey thanks for tonight. By the way, what’s your actual name?”

“It’s Sebastian but you can call me Seb.”

“Well it’s nice to meet you Seb.”

I curl up to him and soon pass out.

By one the next day, I wake up and thought last night may have been a weird dream. I look over and Seb isn’t in bed with me.

I get up to go pee and walk past Brad’s room. But to my surprise he’s not in bed.

I walk to the bathroom and see Brad naked looking at himself in the mirror.

He turns around to me and says, “Yo! What the hell Trav, have you heard of knocking?”

“Oh sorry Brad!”

“HAHAHA just messing with you! It’s me Seb.”

I feel blood rushing to my dick knowing that last night wasn’t a dream after all.

I walk over to pee and peak over at Seb.

He’s checking Brad’s body out in the mirror and starts flexing.

“I tried to leave his body this morning but I don’t really know how to…”

“Oh,” I say to him.

“Not that I’m in a rush to leave but I guess I really didn’t think this one through.”

“Well I don’t mind having you around.” I say to him.

I finish peeing and turn around to him. My eyes focus on Brad’s bubbly butt.

I grab his cheek and he lets out a yelping noise. I press my morning wood on his ass and he grins.

“Someone’s perky this morning.”

“I guess I’m just excited to have some more fun with my new ghost friend.”

“Well I have nothing better to do in the after life so I’m all yours for the day.”

I kiss him on his back and say, “whenever you’re done with the mirror come to my room.”

Seb follow me and we start an entire day of fooling around and talking.

I spend hours with his feet with my head at the end of the bed while does the same with mine. Both of us rubbing and playing with each toe. I just love how hairy and smelly they are.

Seb tells me about his previous life, how he used to live here and died from a freak accident one day. He seems like he’s been lonely all of these years.

“It was so refreshing seeing you move in, I was so bored for so long Trav. Then walks in this handsome guy.”

“Well my life hasn’t been too exciting either, I guess you can I’ve been lonely too.”

I feel him tickle my sole.

“Hey!”

“Sorry couldn’t resist!”

Days passed and Seb still could not figure out how to get out of Brad. Which I didn’t know if he was lying or not. I honestly didn’t want him to leave.

And by a month, Seb figured out Brad’s job and all of the things he needed to know to pretend to be him.

3 months in and we’re officially together. Seb loves all of the new video games he’s missed over the last 20 years while I just love watching him.

And we get soooo kinky! I’ll suck him off while he plays some game.

He even lets me tie him up. Which is sooo hot to me.

I’d like to think of that night as a fresh start for the both of us. And I couldn’t be happier with my horny ghost boyfriend!

[koolades-world]

Random Obey Me! Headcannons

Lucifer really likes human world blue cheese but refuses to admit it because he knows he will be made fun of for it by his brothers

Mammon has his first dollar he made in the Devildom framed and when Mc found it while looking for condoms he was really embarrassed

Idk it’s so funny to me to think of Mc and Mammon about to have sexy time and they need to go look for a condom. Mammon swears he has some so Mc goes digging though a drawer and finds a framed dollar bill while butt naked

“Mammon what is this-”

“SHIT UNSEE THAT HUMAN”

Levi has neck and back pains from all the gaming he does and really loves massages but is too scared to ask

Satan once stole a pair of Lucifer’s underwear and hung it from the RAD flagpole

Asmo made it a point to introduce Mc into his nightly routine as his face mask buddy, even to the point of doing it over call if they’re separated

This also sounds funny as shit imagine someone like Levi walking in on that

“So anyways, I stomped their skull in and got blood on my new boots. My hands also hurt from wringing the neck of that-”

“Asmo, Lucifer wants to know- HOLY SHIT WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO YOU”

“A face mask, Levi. You could use one”

Beel loves kids and likes it when they use him as a jungle gym

Belphie always kicks people in his sleep without fail. Mammon swears he does it on purpose but knows he doesn't

Simeon does the best hair braids and is regarded the best in the Celestial Realm

Luke hates girl scout cookies since he thinks homemade cookies are so much better

Solomon can be seen leaving Asmo's room at any point during the day but nobody ever sees him going in. Imagine hanging out with Asmo and Solomon just fucking appears and then disappears just as fast

Diavolo's favorite color is pink

Barbatos has a succulent garden and Mc will bring him a new one every time they come back from the human world

Thirteen definitely loves Mexican food and spice in general

Raphael is convinced soft blankets are the best thing to ever exist

Mephisto once accidently knocked over one of Luke's cakes and felt so bad that he sent Purgatory Hall a buttload of money and wrote an article in the RAD newspaper about how great the angels were at baking

Mammon and Lucifer openly hate white chocolate (because it's not chocolate). Satan does too but pretends to like it because Lucifer likes it

Whenever Satan needs a parter to go to the events he gets invited to, Mc and Asmo are his first choices. He's closest with Asmo (Belphie is a second close) and doesn't mind the fanfare

Asmo and Beel often travel around the Devildom together. Asmo can't eat everything he orders since he just wants pictres so Beel is the ideal companion. Beel is also the perfect body guard

Solomon's current favorite liquor is Fireball and always has some on hand, but Luke always hides it because he thinks drinking is a bad habit

Barbatos definitely listens to heavy metal but everyone thinks he listens to classical music

If my grandmothers met the brothers, Beel would be their fav because he would clean his plate but if it was everyone, Simeon would take it home because he’s so charming even though he’s barely clothed

Everyone is so downbad for Mc I think it might scare off other people how much they hover. Like, a lower demon bothering you? Literally anything could happen to them, like they could be thrown in an endless loop of suffering, they could be made dirt poor for eternity, or they could be torn limb from limb <3 gotta love it

Asmo and Belphie make a deadly duo when to comes to trapping people/demons/angels. They both have the power to lure you in, and would probably take turn luring in victims for an evening as some sort of strange brother bonding. They both remind me of angler fish in a way. Asmo lures them with the pretense of sex and Belphie with relaxation, two things people can’t get enough of and they can stay calm enough to pull it off

Solomon has definitely made the brothers swap bodies or something crazy like that, on accident or not, you decide

Whenever Mc is feeling down, Diavolo offers his man titties as a nice pillow to relax on because he read somewhere once humans liked that

Beel is like a bull in a china shop so do not take him anyway where you need to be delicate. Belphie knows this, and will put him to sleep and carry him when they need to go somewhere like an antique shop by promising him a snack afterwards

Beel thinks Satan, Belphie, and Mc make the best weights out of everyone. Satan will just read, Belphie will just sleep, and Mc is like his personal cheerleader. However, he can and will lift all his brothers and Mc and the same time if he wants to, it’s just difficult to get them all in the same place at the same time

Thirteen, Belphie, and Satan got in a prank war once and it had to end in a draw since one party could not best the other. In the end, they made a final, collaborative prank and pulled it on Solomon

Mc once fell down the stairs in the human realm, ended up in the hospital, and sent the entire cast into panic so much that they took turns watching over them

Mephisto and Mc once had a night out drinking together and (somehow) returned to the HoL but were totally smashed. Lucifer forbid them from doing it again, but they still sneak out together and just crash at Mephiso’s place instead

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

SVT helping a partner with trauma

Requested? Yes!

Genre: comfort

TW/CW: Implications of trauma

A/N: This will be less of a discussion about traumatic events themselves (if mentioned it’s brief only to give context), but rather the feelings and responses one might have afterwards. Trauma is varied and so is everyone's reactions to it, so I tried to include a variety of scenarios so there’s a little bit of something for everyone. 

A/N #2/Warning: Please use caution when reading if you might find the topic triggering. This is meant to be comforting, but if you find that it isn’t, come back later or skip altogether. 

Seungcheol

Money is an interesting topic between the two of you. At first, he thinks that you just like to keep a tight control over your finances, and he respects it immensely, applauding you for being money-smart. But he notices that you deny yourself a lot of things in an effort to penny pinch, and flat out refuse when he offers to ease your burden on little things like needing to replace something around your apartment or pay a bill that has an upcoming due date. In a vulnerable moment, you tell him the abbreviated version of the story - you depended on someone financially and then they left you with nothing, and you refuse to be stuck in that situation again. From then on he encourages your financial independence and for the most part respects your wishes for him to not spend a lot on you, even if it pains him sometimes. But you best believe the moment you accept it he’s already sliding you his card or heading to the store himself. Wants you to know that you can rely on him, but knows he has to earn that. 

Jeonghan 

You’re a flirt. It’s one of the things that he loves most about you. He's kissed you a few times since starting to date, but he notices how you pull back sooner rather than later, putting space between the two of you. You feel safer with words than you do with touch. He’s okay with that. If you ever try to explain yourself - doesn’t matter if it's a simple ‘I want to wait’, or a more detailed reason - he’ll shake his head. “You come to me if and when you're ready,” he’ll say simply without an ounce of teasing. I do believe that if and when you do approach him, he’ll want to have a not-so-sexy but still very needed conversation to make sure you’re both on the same page and he understands your boundaries. 

Joshua

On the very first date, you tell him you don't drink and don’t really like to be around alcohol. Noted, he thinks, and doesn't order another drink beyond the one he already has in front of him. He also doesn’t have a problem not keeping it at home. However, there’s a social element to drinking that is sometimes unavoidable. He sticks to non-alcoholic drinks with you when you have to go to these events and takes you home before anyone you’re with can be too far gone. You’ll tell him that he can have a drink if he wants and that he doesn't need your permission - but he's supposed to be the one that makes you feel safest, so he’ll shrug it off. He doesn’t miss it. 

Jun 

Absolutely respects your work ethic and even admires it. But sometimes he’s concerned by how you always go in early and stay late, take on way too many responsibilities, and never, ever take a sick day or vacation. When he asks you about it, you simply say that you can’t lose this job. He can sympathize because it would be devastating to not be able to do what he does for a living, but he recognizes that it’s not passion, but rather fear, that drives you to overwork yourself. Does little things like driving you to work so you show up on time rather than super early, or making plans right after work so you can’t stay late. He’ll also book a vacation to somewhere that you just can't refuse. Anything to encourage rest, really. 

Hoshi 

Bless his heart, but he's trying to be funny. He hears you come in and hides behind a door, jumping out at you when you enter the room. Does not expect for you to cry and panic, and cries and panics himself, profusely apologizing. Once you both are calm, he doesn't press for details, accepting your explanation that someone that used to be in your life used to do that sort of thing, but that it wasn't all fun and games. Will never, ever be doing that again, and if you're ever around his group members and they get a bright idea, expect that he'll put a stop to it before it even starts. 

Wonwoo

You’ve lost someone close to you. Whether it was a shock or not, whether you were there or not, doesn’t matter. He’s sympathetic to the trauma of losing someone and knows there isn’t a ton he can do to fix it. But he’ll do the little things. He’ll make sure you eat, even if it’s a little and even if he needs to feed you. He’ll make sure you shower, even if he has to get in and wash your hair for you. He’ll make sure you find a balance between sleep and activity, even if he has to gently drag you outside for some fresh air or carry you to bed himself. Also knows you can't really acknowledge any of it right now, but he’ll keep doing it anyway. 

Woozi

You guys don't fight, well, ever. You both are too laid back. But something big happens and you both have had bad days. Jihoon’s not proud when he loses his temper a bit, shouting. Immediately does not like how you fold into yourself and back away. You’ve confided in him before that your home life involved a lot of arguing growing up. He kind of feels like he’s looking at a kid version of you in the past and it makes him feel nauseous. He takes a deep breath, apologizes, and says that you both should cool down. Later that night, you two sit on the couch, talk it out, and promise to call a timeout next time one of you gets upset. Will absolutely never raise his voice at you again.

DK 

He checks your phone for something, not trying to be invasive, but because you had something he needed. He accidentally stumbles across quite a few reminders that you're way overdue for a check up at the doctor’s office. He apologizes that he was accidentally nosy, but asks if you’ve been able to schedule it yet. He can tell that you’re uncomfortable, bordering on scared at the mention of it. You’ve told him before that you were sick as a child and spent a not-so-insignificant time in the hospital and have since then hated clinical settings. So, so understanding, but also so, so insistent that you should take care of yourself. He’ll take off work in a heartbeat to go with you and hold your hand if it will help. 

Mingyu 

You both are working on a grocery list and you ask him to add another case of bottled water. He looks at you quizzically because you already have an untouched case in the closet and the fridge is stocked. You pause, frowning. “But what if we run out?” You’ll say in a small, worried voice. He knows you’ve lived through a natural disaster or two before you moved here. You don't talk about it much, but he’s seen clips on TV before about what that can be like. He nods. “You’re right. I’ll get another one.” He gets two. That closet will never be empty if it makes you feel better. 

Minghao

You’re getting repeated phone calls from a random number. When you tell him this, at first, he nods, kind of shrugging it off. Spam calls happen all the time. (God only knows I get like ten a day from telemarketers.) Still, he watches your anxiety spike every time it happens and gently presses for a bit of an explanation. You tell him shortly that you’ve gotten harassing phone calls in the past and have had to change numbers a time or two because of it. From that point forward, if he's with you and your phone rings from an unknown number, he's holding his hand out expectantly. Doesn't matter if it’s a telemarketer or not. Will always answer the phone for you or simply get you a new number until you’re comfortable. 

Seungkwan

Listen, I think he's ready to fight any day. He’s kind of surprised when you ask if he wants to meet your parents and especially surprised at how anxious you are about it. He sees why immediately because they aren’t nice people. Tolerates very few negative or demeaning comments directed at you and certainly won't tolerate any displays of violence, so I expect this to be a short visit ending with him deciding it’s time to go. Also won’t accept any apology from you for how they behaved and after some consideration will encourage you to limit contact. 

Vernon

When you tell him early on that you don’t drive, he just shrugs. He’ll take the bus or walk with you any day. But one night, you guys have gone out. When you walk out to go home, you realize it’s raining and that you’ve missed the last bus. Vernon shrugs, saying he’ll just call an uber or taxi. You panic and he’s kind of surprised. Still, he puts his phone back up and waits for the rain to stop with you before walking home. You tell him you got into a car accident years ago and your injuries were minor, but you still don't like driving or riding in cars. You say it’s one of the reasons you live where you do, so you can just walk everywhere. Will always stick by you no matter what mode of transportation you choose. 

Chan 

You express that you don't like your new job and he’s surprised, mostly because you were so excited to start it. You tell him your coworkers are kind of cliquey, and you don't feel like you fit in. He understands, telling you that they don't have to be your friends as you can work with them. Still, you tell him you can handle a bit of rejection, but you're afraid that they might become mean or hostile, like the catty women in the last place you worked. He encourages you to focus on work for now and feel out the situation for a little bit longer. It’s not the end of the world if it doesn't work out because you still have him. Cheesy, I know, but it does make you feel better. 

[gojoidyll]

it's ok, i'm ok

(implied) simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader x johnny "soap" mactavish

cw | insecurities, depictions of facial scars (reader), mentions of being interrogated/tortured, open ended, may continue (?), etc.

sum | a mask protects you, and you're determined to keep it that way.

When you look in the mirror, you immediately feel a tinge of disgust. Your eyes racked over the scars that littered your face. There was one long nasty one, on the right side. It marred the skin terribly. It reached from the top of your eyebrow and down all the way to your chin and the scar was not straight at all. It was jagged, cut with haste. You could still feel the pain lingering there before your eyes lingered on the other scars. One was a horizontal line slashed across the middle of your nose, another perfectly symmetrical with your jawline on the left side of your face, and finally the last one. The one that was smaller than the others and cut across the left side of your temple.

The scars were given to you a year or two ago. You can’t exactly remember the date as the memories start to blur, but what happened to you was as clear as day. It was an interrogation, the squad you were apart of had been captured and slowly the enemy began cycling through every single one of you until you were the last. But you gave them nothing, even as they slashed your face up.

You could still feel your nails being pulled out, your nose being broken, your-

You shook your head and reached for your mask, the black fabric covered both your mouth and nose before you reached for your favorite baseball cap and fixed it over your head. It wasn’t a perfect covering, but it did its job. The job being to hide most if not all of your face from your comrades in arms. You learned all too well, that the men would much rather have a pretty face to look at then a scarred one (as you came to realize with the women in the squadron who … were not scarred as you were).

And as you got ready for the day and to head out to base, you wondered if you would find someone who wouldn’t care about your scarred appearance, but … you found it highly unlikely.

“L/n, meet taskforce 141, you’ll be joining them from here on out.”

The moment you get on base and being handed a new team assignment wasn’t on your bucket list, but you had no complaints. Your original team was already disbanding to begin with. Most of them retiring after they were rescued from being captured, but you decided to stay. If only to keep your mind occupied.

And even as you introduced yourself and met the tf 141 guys, you still had that ache in your heart. It wouldn’t be the same, but at least you will be doing something.

“So, L/n, do they call you anything else?”

Its when you are left alone with tf 141 to “better get to know them” when you finally come back to reality.

“I don’t have a nickname if that’s what your wondering.”

“Really,” asked the man with a mohawk, you already guessed he was the one called Soap, “they just call you l/n?”

You merely nodded, the words seeming to have left you. Which was another thing you noticed. A change that just didn’t sit right. You used to talk a lot, you always filled the silence, made things louder, brighter, happier almost. But now, you just meander with the silence in hopes that someone else starts talking so you don’t have to.

Soap merely grinned at you before reaching out and clapping you on the back, “well, then No Name, guess we’ll just have ta figure somethin out.”

At the mention of the words “No Name” you had a feeling that that was what your nickname was going to be. And as it turns out, you would be right.

“No Name! Come check this out!”

Fixing your baseball cap and adjusting your mask a bit, you trotted over to Soap, eyes seeming to bore into what he was looking at on his phone.

“Really?”

“What? Oh come on, you can’t possibly say this isn’t funny.”

You rolled your eyes, the action going unnoticed due to the bill of your cap, “whatever you say, Soap.”

And that was how the weeks followed. You trained silently with them. Soap being the only one who seemed to try and tear away at your walls, but nothing seemed to work as you were as silent if not even more silent than Ghost was.

Speaking of the man, he was probably the one you liked being around most.

He didn’t look at you when he talked, nor does he try to acknowledge you. Something that you found being grateful for. And when he did have to communicate something to you, his eyes never seemed to pry nor did his actions seem like he wanted to know more either. You found that you liked the little to no attention you got, and luckily when you are near the man no one else tries to get to you as well. And Soap? He tends to pay attention to his friend more too. Another thing you were grateful for.

Though, the brief simplicity you had gained and the happiness of blissful silence all seemed to come crashing down when a small group of women that shared the barracks with you stole both your mask and hat.

“So that’s what you look like…”

You were not amused when the women who you fought alongside with more than a couple of times started to crowd around you to get a good look at your face. It had caused your usual straight look to turn more down, the obvious hint of displeasure and anger clear on your features.

“Where’s my mask,” you managed to ask as you swatted a girl’s hand away.

One of them giggled, “we sort of hid it from you.”

You glowered, “where?”

You knew the question was fruitless as the girls scattered immediately the moment you started to get out of bed. And before you could make the move to look for both of the items, you chanced a look at the clock and almost let out a groan before holding in.

You had no time to waste on looking for either of your belongings, nor did you have any extras in your locker.

Today was going to be a shit day.

“What.”

The single word that left your mouth was more of a statement than a question as you stood next to Ghost and Soap, both who seemed to openly stare at you as the three of you waited for your Captain and Gaz to show up at the meeting point.

“It’s nothing,” Soap answered a bit too quickly for your liking, and when you shifted your gaze towards Ghost you immediately hated that fact that his eyes were directed right at your face. You instantly started to miss when he didn’t look at you at all.

“Girls in the barracks hid my mask is all,” the little information you relented was hopefully enough to get them to stop staring.

However, it wasn’t enough.

“Didn’t have a spare,” you managed again. But the stares they gave you was all you could feel, “know my face isn’t great to look at, once I get a new one or find my old mask, you won’t have to stare so damn much.”

And when Ghost finally talks to you, not at you or near you, like he really talks to you and sees you for the first time, your brain just short circuits.

“Why? You’re pretty to look at as you are now. Soap and I just don’t know how to act around a pretty lady.”

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 5 part 5

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7])

jen just shakes her head, bitter and not in the least surprised at what agatha did

meanwhile agatha is... she's just devastated

billy is the only person in the room who has never experienced and still doesn't comprehend the finality of death

agatha runs, she can't do anything else. rio is the only one that cares.

she looks so pathetic in that getup. her behaving like a little girl is not so funny anymore, is it?

as always, rio watches her. she has a lot to think about after this trial.

but alice needs her undivided attention now. lady death has to clock in.

I'm glad that we keep focusing on agatha's reaction. she used to be able to kill people and shake it off (or at least pretend to). she cannot shake alice off

and it was all for a tiny spark of magic. that is all that's left of alice on the mortal plane

when billy confronts her she visibly recoils and shrinks in on herself, like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar

one hand on her own heart, one on billy's heart. like she's begging and willing him to understand

it's not: you lied. it's you lied to me. it's personal. it's the trust he had in a mentor and mother figure, irrevocably broken

agatha never lies to billy. she's shitty with him in many other ways, but she doesn't lie

billy, honey. you set out on a road trip with a literal serial killer.

agatha had this mad fantasy of billy and her becoming a family, a coven two. and of course she went and ruined it. she always does

jen has all her walls firmly up, she won't allow herself to grieve for alice. she's still on the verge of walking a dark path, and agatha is the one pushing and pushing her toward it

lilia, who has lost and grieved so many, is just numb with pain. Death is unstoppable. hey guys, remember the first three episodes? when everything seemed so fun and carefree?

to billy witches were spellbooks and broomsticks and hot topic eyeliner. how do you explain to a kid the ugliness and violence and trauma that will inevitably fester in a marginalized, repressed community?

from the mouth of a child. she might have killed alice by accident. she has been deliberately and systematically killing many more to serve her own agenda.

and what agatha does, when confronted with ugly truths? she runs, and if she can't run, she goes all in with the spectacle and the cruelty

she could have picked any moment to talk about wanda. she could have broken the news gently, eased billy into understanding what he's been doing. now she's just lashing out in anger and fear and pain. billy did just put her through hell, but she's still the only adult of the two, no matter how immature she wishes to act

when push comes to shove, when it all becomes too much, agatha will latch to her self-preservation instincts and choose to protect herself over anyone else, even the people she loves. She's doing it with billy, she's doing it with rio. I'd argue that she did it with nicky, too.

hey, hey agatha, remember what happened the last time you poked a chaos witch with a stick? you dumb idiot.

fucking around meets finding out etc etc etc etc

boy is she SCREAMING. this bitch will never go down quietly, she'll snivel and cry like the sad pathetic creature she is

and the parallels and the irony of billy hurting jen and lilia in his grief.

do you guys laugh too when bille ellish pops in?? I love how agatha later says that billy is dramatic because he's a maximoff. honey, wanda was only ever coming up with cute sitcom scenarios. this is all your doing, you and your dramatic ass. this is your son. drama queen and drama queen in training.

go to episode 6 part 1

[cailleachcola]

something something bill cipher x chronic pain!reader

blah blah he possesses their body and is like "wow i dont even have to do anything to it for it to hurt!!!!"

yadda yadda reader refuses to get back in their body bc "dude i cant feel ANYTHING in this form, why the fresh fuck would i get back in there ??"

bill ends up finding pain a little less funny after this experience. (only a little less)

[starlitsequins]

ship discourse is unserious but the "who would treat fiddleford better" arguments on tumblr are crazy to me because have we all forgotten nuance? anyways here's a relationship analysis:

fiddauthor has its own unhealthy aspects because ford not only tunnel-visioned on his research to the point of dismissing fiddleford, he was also being actively isolated by his abuser (bill), who was turning the two against each other. and, at the same time, fiddleford was actively lying to ford about the memory gun, then used it on ford, a complete violation of trust. in alex hirsch's own words, fiddleford was like a yes-man to ford (until he wasnt), to the detriment of both of them.

but also they found solace in each other, as two outcasts with similar interests. even if ford could be dismissive at times with his gifts, its so clear that he valued fiddleford as his one friend, that they found so much enjoyment in each other's company in both college and in gravity falls. and ignoring that is doing them both a disservice! none of the hurt they inflicted on each other was done out of malice; they were being slowly broken down by the environment around them.

fiddlestan is more difficult to dissect for obvious reasons but comparing stan's past failed relationships to a hypothetical one with fiddleford is a moot point. we're working with a vastly different scenario here. stan would need fiddleford to stay in his desperation to save ford, and fiddleford could be easily guilt-tripped despite his trauma. would stan be an asshole to fiddleford? yeah, he would probably grow impatient with fiddleford's anxiety, and they would have very clashing personalities and interests, along with bad trust issues. fiddleford would be very reliant on the memory gun at this point, and they both would be at their mental lowest: it would not be an easy or healthy relationship.

but at the same time, it's not difficult to see how two very broken people could find solace in each other, especially due to a shared grief. its a unique situation that only they could understand, so of course it would make sense that fiddleford's desire to fix vs stan's abandonment issues would lead to something, for better or for worse. at the end of the day, they both understand the broken bonds of family and they both want to feel needed. it's not farfetched to speculate that they'd find comfort in each other.

anyways. i love these three very flawed, very hurt, and very human individuals. i think they're capable of causing each other a lot of pain. they do cause each other a lot of pain. but also they grow and they heal, and it pains me to see people reduce them to their singular actions. (but also the jokes are funny so yknow...i get it carry on)

[askbillchiper]

I'M STARTING A.. 'TUMBLR'? ASKBLOG? WHAT LINGO ARE YOU PEOPLE USING?

FORDSIE TOLD ME ABOUT THIS WEBSITE SHOOTING STAR SHOWED HIM. IT'S MY TURN TO SHINE.

HOW THE HELL DO I TURN OFF CAPS LOCK!? THIS IS UNFORTUNATE. I TRIED TURNING IT OFF, IT WON'T LET ME! THIS IS SO ANNOYING!

I'M STILL FIGURING THIS DAMNED WEBSITE OUT.

WHAT IS 'DNI'? ..QUICK SEARCH ON THE INSTA-WEB, AND IT MEANS 'DO NOT INTERACT'.

UH, DNI.

PUNY HUMANS WHO LIKE SEEING PEOPLE GET TORN APART. I FIND PAIN FUNNY, BUT YOU'RE ALL FREAKS.

I'M A LITERAL TRIANGLE GODSEND!?! NO HEAVY PORN, WHATEVER THE HELL THAT IS.

THAT'S LITERALLY IT. EDIT: NO, I WILL NOT DONATE ANYTHING TO YOU. EDIT ONCE AGAIN: SPAMMING MY ASKBOX IS FINE. I GENUINELY WANT TO INTERACT WITH MORE MORTALS, AND THIS INSTA-WEBSITE THING IS PERFECT FOR THAT. ASK AWAY. EDIT X3: MY EX-HUSBANDO IS @fordpinesofficial! WE HAVE A KID. THEIR NAME IS HEXAGON. UHH, THEIR BIRTHDAY IS OCT. 10TH. EDIT 4: MY FAMILY: @hexagonalthing @nightmares-and-dreams-come-true EDIT 5: MINI ME!!: @baby-bill-rp

[gay-dorito-dust]

Doing Bills make-up or Bill doing the Reader's make-up prompt please? Since the book of Bill said he wears mascara and eyeliner

I don’t know shit about makeup and this fic will only probably prove that 🤣

‘Is it really necessary for you to be so close to my face?’ You asked.

Bill sighed as the hand holding the mascara brush dropped to his side. ‘Who was the one who asked for help with their mascara?’

‘Me.’ You replied.

‘Yes you did.’ Bill said while pointing at you with the mascara brush, ‘now are you going to let me get back to work or are you going to complain and pull away again, my time is precious to me you know.’

You raised your hands in defeat in hopes it would appease Bill. ‘Alright, alright I’m sorry I won’t pull away again, it’s just that you hold that thing as though you’re going to poke my eye out.’ You defended yourself as you forced yourself to relax as Bill hovered close to your face with mascara brush in his little hands.

‘If you keep moving away from me then I might as well poke your eye out, twerp.’ Bill replied almost playfully but you knew that he would indeed do just that, and so you forced yourself to remain as still as you could while Bill focused all of his energy into giving you the perfect mascara look.

‘Is that a threat or a promise?’ You asked.

Bill shrugs. ‘Depends on my mood.’

‘Well that’s comforting.’ You muttered as bill stops and points the mascara brush at you once again. It was funny to see a floating triangle no bigger then your hand -maybe a little bigger- threaten you with a mascara brush, but you’ve nearly poked your eye out a couple of times when doing your own mascara so you knew that pain all to well and didn’t want to experience it again.

‘You done tempting me human because this’ll be your last chance to behave yourself unless you want busted looking eyelashes.’ Bill warms but doesn’t wait for your answer to continue his work.

You didn’t even ask him to help with your makeup, not even once. He just appeared in your bathroom while you were doing your makeup, made you poke yourself in the eye from fright while chastising you and your adequate makeup techniques.

‘Who you trying to impress? A raccoon? Are you humans really this helpless that you can’t do something as simple as mascara or eyeliner? Pfff. Pathetic.’ He says as he looks at you in the mirror with obvious judgment.

‘Hey! I think it looks okay!’ You defended yourself as Bill only looks you unamused.

‘For an ammeter.’ He replied and you couldn’t help but feel that your pride has been wounded and therefore become a little agitated.

‘Oh yeah? And you do?’ You said sarcastically.

‘Yeah, how do you think I get my eyelashes to look like this?’ Bill retorted, ‘don’t believe me? Take a closer look!’ You then leaned in close towards bill only to find out that the little triangle was in fact wearing eyeliner and mascara. It was good, so good in fact that you’d thought it was all natural, no makeup required but apparently the dream demon was somewhat of a professional when it came to making sure his eyelashes looked good.

Needless to say you were jealous.

Which lead you to where you were now, sat in a chair Bill conjured as he did your mascara for you and all without a snide comment too, which told you that he was incredibly focused.

In the end your eyelashes looked fantastic and everyone was asking how you got them like that but you pressed a finger to your lips and said. ‘A great magician never reveals his secrets.’ Before looking over your shoulder at Bill, who was doing his own eyeliner with a fucking large ass kitchen knife. He stopped to wave his little hand at you but his eye was glued to the mirror in front of him.

You were glad you only asked him help on mascara and not eyeliner…

[matcha-milkies]

LIKE AN OLEANDER

Summary: Bill Cipher needs a footstool and a thoroughly Stockholmed Ford is happy to oblige.

Relationships: Bill Cipher & Ford Pines, Pyronica is there too

Content Warnings: Abuse, Master/Pet, Psychological Torture/Horror/Trauma, Stockholm Syndrome, Victim Blaming, Sensory Deprivation

Tags: Triangle Bill, Canon Divergence - Weirdmageddon, Bill Cipher Wins, Collars, Chains, Whump, Hurt No Comfort, Bill Cipher is a Jerk

Word Count: 1,306

Link to AO3: Here

A/N: Based on @jellyskink’s immaculate Domesticated Ford AU, in which Bill mentally breaks Ford in the 1980s and brainwashes him into an obedient and fawning pet. Weirdmageddon started early, and over time the weirdness bubble surrounding Gravity Falls naturally expanded to contain both California and Oregon. If you want to learn more, there’s a lot more tidbits on their blog, though fair warning it’s a pretty dark and sad AU.

Thank you, jellyskink, for giving me the green light to write a fic for this!

I saw someone say this au is “all pain, no sex” which is really at the heart of what I look for in fics, but is so painstakingly absent in most fandoms, so this is a godsend •⩊•

If you haven’t listened to “Oleander” by Mother Mother what are you even doing with your life /lh

Bill Cipher is in a particularly good mood today. He and Pyronica probably broke a record for largest bonfire in California, even counting all their previous antics over the years. Not the dream demon’s most creative endeavor by a long shot, but hey, sometimes you just gotta start a blazing inferno to let off some steam. Nothing wrong with a bit of simple, straightforward arson now and then.

It’s only when he returns to the Fearamid, practically glowing, buzzing and high off the screams of the innocent, that he remembers the state he left Sixer in.

The man is in a kneeling position, collared by the neck. His hair, fluffy and disheveled, feathers down to around his shoulders, brushing against the cruel blue metal. His twelve fingers twitch and grasp at nothing, futilely, as though groping for purchase on a rugged cliffside. His purple sweater is rumpled in places, like he had pulled and grabbed at that too, to no evident avail. He’s whimpering to himself, words that are at first indiscernible as Bill enters the massive chamber.

The scientist is tethered to a ring near the base of the Throne of Frozen Human Agony, staring vacantly into the middle space, unseeing. It’s not his fault. Bill severed all input from his optic nerves, so he literally can’t see. Or hear. Or feel. Yeah, he cut off those nerves too. It was supposed to be a punishment that lasted a few hours. And then Bill had left and gotten carried away with his fun, and well, it had been an entire day.

Whoops.

Make no mistake, he doesn’t feel bad about it. If anything, it’s kind of funny, like forgetting to feed your dog! Wait. Humans don’t find that funny. Well, who can expect them to understand the emotions of an all-powerful chaos god? He draws closer, and the previously indiscernible words sharpen into clarity.

“I love you, my muse. I love you.”

Repeated ad nauseam to the uncaring void.

“Aww,” Bill clasps his hands together and brings them closer to his eye. “He’s so pathetic!” Pyronica, who came in with him, nods her agreement and laughs along. This must be what it’s like to catch your puppy mid-dream, its little tongue lolling and leg kicking at nothing.

He can’t remember whether he instructed his pet to repeat those words or not. Honestly, it’s anyone’s guess. Bill’s will and Ford’s are so inextricable at this point that Ford often does things without needing to be told. Of course, they’re not entirely on the same wavelength, or else punishment wouldn’t be required in the first place.

“Eh, remind me to snap him out of it in another half an hour,” Bill says, settling himself on the throne. With a wave of an arm he summons a martini glass. “I’m gonna have myself a drink.”

“Sure thing, boss.” He summons a glass for her too, and hipshot, she accepts. “Hey, you think we should’ve put the fire out before we left?”

They both share a hearty chuckle over that. “Would be a shame if it all burned down!” Bill sighs as the laughter dies down. “Nah, but seriously. California will still be there for us to play with tomorrow. And if it isn’t, we can always just rebuild it! In my image! Ha!”

“Yeah. Technically the fires are my image though.”

“Touché!”

They talk for a while, maybe 20 minutes or so in this fashion, casually sipping time punch and discussing unnatural disasters like they’re music festivals. Ford goes completely untouched and unnoticed, until suddenly Bill returns his attention to the human, and a light bulb goes off next to his hat.

“Wait. Do you wanna see something hysterical? I have the best idea.”

Every sensation returns to Ford at once in a flood of color, touch and sound. Sometimes, when Bill is feeling merciful, he eases him back into it, but his merciful moods are few and far between. More commonly, he likes to toss the scientist in the deep end and watch him flounder, tears quickly beading at the corners of Ford’s eyes and spilling fatly over his cheeks. His body convulses in a singular, broken sob, and before he can finish another apologetic, “I love you,” Bill hits him with a hard command.

“Stanford! I need a footstool!” The demon extends his legs and wiggles his feet a little. He whistles as though beckoning a dog. “Come ‘ere!”

Despite his disorientation, Ford rushes to obey, lurching in the direction of Bill’s voice and falling flat on his face. Shakenly, he picks himself off the ground, letting loose a singular groan.

“I’m still waiting!” Bill sings, swinging his legs a little for effect. Pyronica snickers. Ford tries again, following the sound of his muse’s voice, although he is quickly dismayed to find that he’s already reached the end of his chain. He falls just short of Bill’s feet, and no matter how he chokes himself, no matter how hard he tugs at the collar or the chain attached, he can’t go any further than this. His distress is evident in the way he keens.

“What are you doing?” Bill demands, rolling his eye. “All I asked for was a simple footstool and you can’t even do that? Bad! Bad dog!” Ford sobs.

“I-I’m sorry, my muse!” he rasps, the cold metal of the collar pressing in on his windpipe as he strains to obey. “I’m so sorry!”

Pyronica is practically in stitches at this point, and Bill is a showman, a class clown ever chasing the next laugh. “Are you really though?” His eye wanes to an amused crescent. “Do you even love me, if you can’t even follow a command as simple as this?”

“Yes!” Ford insists with a cry. “Yes, my muse, I love you! I’m sorry that I’m so useless… Please, please forgive me…”

“Why should I? Do you think you deserve forgiveness?”

“N- No,” Ford sniffs, “but—”

“Alright, alright. Since I’m in such a good mood, I’ll give you a hand.” Bill waves his hand in a circle and the chain elongates, allowing just enough slack for Ford to crawl under his waiting feet. Bill settles them heavily on top of Ford’s back and sighs. “Ahh, that’s better.” The man shakes under the weight.

“Thank you, my muse,” he says. Normally, he would be a lot happier about serving Bill like this, but he’s clearly still torn up over his recent punishment and failures. “Thank you so much.”

“Don’t mention it, kid!” Bill rests his hands behind his ‘head,’ or rather, the tip of his topmost vertex. “Maybe after this, if you’re good, you can have a treat.”

“R- Really? Oh, thank you so much, my muse. I promise I’ll be good.” His voice is still wavery from the earlier-shed tears, but his cheer seems to be returning. It’s not difficult to keep the man happy when he’s so thoroughly and hopelessly smitten with his muse. Bill could have Pyronica drop-kick Ford off the top of the Fearamid right now and when he reached the bottom he would find a way to smile and thank Bill, no matter how many broken pieces he was in.

“Yeah. Now shut up while I get some reading in. Hasn’t anyone ever told you footstools don’t talk? Sheesh.” With a sigh, Bill summons an extradimensional magazine and floats it in front of his eye, every so often flipping through the pages. Pyronica says she’s off to see what Teeth and Keyhole are up to, and Bill acknowledges her departure with a little grunt and wave. Ford stifles a whimper. His back has already been giving him issues lately, and this definitely isn’t helping matters, but he soldiers through it for his muse. He’s determined not to mess up again. He’s determined to be a good footstool.

A/N: This is my first time writing from Bill’s perspective! I don’t usually write him this cruel, so it was a fun change of pace to lean full force into that side of him. Thanks again, jellyskink, I hope you liked this little installment!

[happy-soap-eaterr]

👁Mona Lanius second moodboard and headcanons🚬

TW:blood, syringe, maybe disturbing images, mention of drinking ur!ne (eww), smoking/cigarettes, mention of corpses, hint of cannibalism, hint of alcohol

🩸A heavy smoker, always trying to find cigarettes in the homes of her victims. Packs are scattered throughout the factory so that Mona can smoke whenever she wants.

🩸When she sleeps, she presses her knees almost to her forehead, hugging herself with her arms. But in general, she rarely sleeps, and if she does, it’s not for long. Sometimes she sleeps hugging some corpse or Bill (more often with Bill because he’s warm and snores funny)

🩸Often suffers from back pain due to slouching and can’t straighten her back even for a few seconds. There was an attempt to make Bill walk on her back, but despite her rather broad shoulders, he still lost his balance and fell.

🩸Doesn’t recognize cinema and music, considering only drawing to be a “normal” activity.

🩸Despite the fact that she and Bill don't really eat, and if they do, it's raw meat (guess whose), Mona actually knows how to cook and can whip up something simple.

🩸She likes birds, she loves to admire them while she and Bill walk to the next house.

🩸Bill, when he hadn't yet completely begun to consider himself a dog, explained to Mona in words how to drive a car. She understood little.

🩸She collects dolls (mostly porcelain) that she finds in the houses of her victims. She thinks that they look like her and that they are her children, she gives them names and sometimes plays mother-daughters (Bill is in shock about this). They are hidden in the most secluded place of the textile factory.

🩸She also collects combs.

🩸In addition to drawing and cooking, she sews well. She was the one who sewed the twins. She sewed the skin on the mannequin found at the factory for herself, she wanted to "update her wardrobe".

🩸Unlike Bill, she allowed herself to take a shower a couple of times during the break-in.

🩸She smells like a mixture of sweat, paint, some kind of chemicals and cigarettes.

🩸She doesn't mind drinking something alcoholic, but not beer. She HATES beer. Once Bill gave her a try, after which she made him drink ur!ne. Well, what, it's just as nasty and yellow!

🩸She can stare at one point and think about something of her own for hours, and she can start doing this at any moment. Mona doesn't control this, and in order to bring her to her senses, Bill has to give her a painful slap in the face.

🩸When she concentrates or gets nervous, she starts to knead her b00bs.

🩸She is very worried about her flimsy hair and when she notices even one hair falling out, she starts to panic. And the older she gets, the more often her hair falls out.

🩸Sadomaso, she walks barefoot because she likes how her feet prick (+ it's silent).

🩸According to the timeline in FACES, she is 31 years old, and in HELL, she is 36 years old.

[nowimjustastranger]

Was talking to my friends in our Discord group chat about how Lee got his facial scars and this happened. Idk what to tell you, I blacked out, lol.

Part 2

“That uh… that looks bad, pal.” Stan said haltingly, glancing between the bloodied cloth pressed to Lee’s face and the road in an anxious fashion, his equally bloody hands white-knuckle tight on the steering wheel. Stan had gotten covered in the stuff when he’d tackled the thug with the knife, the two grappling for the blade.

As soon as the knife was in Stan’s hand, he buried it into the thug’s chest with an efficient brutality that had the four other men sluggishly picking themselves up off the ground and bolting. Probably to regroup. Stan yanked the knife out and rushed to Lee, setting the blade aside before he knelt down to look him over, helping him to his feet so they could stumble to the Stanleymobile.

“We both know I’ve had worse.” Lee grunted, grimacing at the persistent burn of split skin. He hadn’t gotten himself this fucked up since before he was nabbed by Ford almost two years ago; and the serum that Ford had slipped him a few weeks back had healed the damage that his body had taken during the decade that he’d spent on the streets. Lee had never felt so good in his life, the various aches and pains that he had long grown accustomed to gone in an instant.

“Wish I could say I got a first aid kit, but you’re gonna hafta settle for a pitstop at the nearest drug store.” Stan announced, one of his hands leaving the wheel to tap Lee’s arm in a wordless bid to see the wound again. Lee hissed as he moved the relatively clean shirt that Stan had sacrificed away from the two deep slashes marring the left side of his face, fresh blood slithering down his cheek and chin to drip onto his ruined jeans.

“I got cash.” Lee tentatively divulged, his free hand awkwardly digging the clip of bills that Ford had given him before they parted ways out of his front pocket. He passed it to Stan, who pinched it between two fingers like it would come to life and maul him. Lee would find it funny if he didn’t know all too well why Stan was acting that way. Lee had ever been good at accepting handouts either.

“Cash or no cash, you were gettin’ patched up.” Stan said gruffly, stuffing the money clip into the pocket of his ragged red coat. Lee pressed the shirt back to his face to stanch the bleeding, breathing through the pain with practiced ease. Thankfully, they were only three hours away from Gravity Falls. They just had to get to the Shack before their entourage caught up with them, then Ford would handle the rest.

“Huh. Thanks.” Lee murmured, feeling tired and drained yet unable to drift off because his face hurt like a bitch. Stan’s spare hand didn’t return to the wheel, settling on the back of Lee’s neck instead. The touch was grounding, giving him something else to focus on other than the viciously throbbing wounds. Lee leaned into the touch, his eyes falling closed as he basked in the offered warmth.

“It’s nothin’, really.” Stan said dismissively, but his tone had gentled a considerable amount, his soft core peeking through that hard exterior that he constructed to protect himself. Lee had to fight a smile, mostly because it would hurt but also because he couldn’t be sure that Stan wouldn’t get the wrong impression and punch him square in the jaw. “Least I can do. You kept that knife outta my neck back there.”