#but it's probably getting at least one solid split

[marioandluigigi]

⊹ ࣪ ˖ | The lady and the tramp

⌗ Jock Nat x cheerleader reader

⌗ Summary: In which you and Nat are the stereotypical Jock x cheerleader couple with a twist (a gay twist).

⌗ warnings: internalised homophobia, secret relationship.

⌗ Word count: 2.6k

⌗ Author's note: The people have chosen! Although I’ll probably do the spider-man AU one as well when I get the motivation.

It was 6 AM on a Thursday, and the only people in school at this time of day. Were the schools two most popular clubs. The Wiskayok cheerleading team, who had been sweeping nationals since the 1970’s thanks to your coach who had been drilling and building cheerleaders since before you were born. And the Yellowjackets girls soccer team who had recently been qualified to go to nationals.

You weren’t too keen on the details, but as captain of the cheerleading team, you were aware that coach Ben managed to persuade, beg, your coach to let him borrow her cheerleaders to present during that days pep rally, as a way to lift school spirit and get the student body excited for the Yellowjackets girls soccer team going to nationals, after all it was the first time a soccer team from Wiskayok, girls or boys had ever made it that far with outside competition.

Your coach wasn’t too thrilled in fact, she despised the idea, she was used to her cheerleaders being the center of attention, of the teachers and staff bowing to her for her success— and incredibly intimidating attitude. So having to split the spotlight with a soccer team wasn’t exactly her dream come true.

You and your friends wondered what coach Ben could possibly have on her for her to allow such a collaboration, the two most popular theories were that they were either sleeping together, or he managed to find some obscure photo of her from the 60s and was using it as blackmail. You believed the latter. After all, you had the inside scoop of what was going on, on the Yellowjackets team, on a daily basis, thanks to a certain lucky number 7 winger that liked to talk your ear off. And according to her, their beloved coach Ben batted for the other team, because he never looked at their boobs, and they all had great boobs, according to her.

Your relationship with Natalie was a secretive one born out of an unlikely friendship, after the two of you got paired up together for an English assignment.

Since than, it had flourished from shared cigarettes and stolen kisses, to something real and solid. You soon found out that Natalie was that kind of person, the real kind, honest, yes she could be a little blunt and a little rough around the edges, which you don’t condemn, after she, little by little, started sharing with you stories of her home life, how she grew up, how her father used to beat her mother, and how the same still blames Natalie for her husband’s death after little 14 year old Natalie was only attempting to defend her mother from yet another beating. No, Natalie was the real deal, solid, she never made you uncomfortable, never pressured you into anything, never made you feel like she’d betray your trust.

Which helped a lot, the two of you started dating officially two months ago, after you spent the night at her place for the first time, and woke up intertwined with her, the setting intimate, as you breathed in her scent while the soft morning light entered through the tiny window of her trailer and illuminated her features. The two of you made it official that day but just for yourselves, because you weren’t ready to tell people not yet, at least. Much too afraid of the reactions, the stares, the crumpled social structure and disappointment of your parents.

All your life you were the perfect doting daughter, a role that was thrusted upon you without your permission. Since first grade, you were a “pleasure to have in class”, straight As, polite, darling of the teachers.

In freshman year you joined the cheerleading team, at the time you didn’t think much of it, it would look good on college applications, you reasoned, but in junior year you were made captain which came with a lot more hours, a lot more dedication and sudden popularity and attention from your fellow classmates that you never expected.

Still you felt off, especially as you grew older, you were what every girl wanted to be, and the one every guy wanted to date, so why couldn’t you feel anything? You had been asked out, sure and lusted over, but you’d never had a crush on a boy, the first time you kissed one you reasoned you just didn’t like kissing, you felt alone, the conversations the girls on your team had about boys bored you, and you simply could not understand why their behaviour changed so much around them, in your head it was like a disease, a disease you desperately wanted to catch.

You remember confessing this to Natalie, when you were just friends, how you felt like something was broken inside you, that maybe you just didn’t have the ability to feel attraction like the rest of the girls, that you feared ending up alone or trapped in a marriage where you didn’t feel anything.

She was the first to point out that you might be into girls, you almost screamed, denied it with every bone in your body because of course you didn’t, you? Perfectly edged you? Queer? There was no way. You didn’t look gay, you didn’t dress like you were either, and you definitely never thought about girls like that or did you? Does looking at Natalie’s mouth while she smoked a cigarette count as looking? No, no way.

Until she kissed you, suddenly, sloppy as if to prove a point, your face felt on fire as her calloused hands grabbed your cheek, as her thumb caressed the area under your eyes. And, it turns out, you liked kissing after all.

You leave the school bathroom, pom-poms in hand, after adjusting the bow on your ponytail in the mirror. As you walk through the empty corridor you listen, as a pair of cleats echo through the school hallway, that’s when you catch a glimpse of a bright yellow number 7 and a sweaty head of bleach blonde hair, your heart skips a beat, as you imagine running your fingers through those same sweaty blonde locks.

You stop, before looking around to see if the two of you are alone, and she does the same, before approaching you and looking you up and down, admiring how your short cheer skirt makes your legs look.

“Tough practice?” You ask tentatively, sensing the tension on her freckled shoulders and admiring the singular drop of sweat that runs through the pale sweaty skin of her face.

“Tell me about it. Coach Martinez is possessed he isn’t getting any at home I’m sure of it.” She jokes, teasing smirk in place with that same provocative edge and fearless tongue that you adore so much. “What are you doing here at the ass crack of dawn?” She questions. “I mean shit— not that I mind…” she comments before shamelessly gawking at you like she’s been starved for 7 days.

“Get your mind out of the gutter Scatorccio.” You warn. Still feeling anxious about the possibility of someone walking in on the two of you. “And we’re rehearsing for the pep rally. You know the one you’re also going to?”

“Shit coach Ben managed to convince your coach after all?” She asks her smirk softening at the possibility of seeing you, but still in place nonetheless.

“Apparently so… The girls on the team still think they’re sleeping together.”

“Nah, there’s something way more sinister going on for him to accomplish that, I vote witchcraft.” She says serious, confident, as if the two of are discussing world politics and not shitty pep rally plans.

“First it was blackmail, now it’s witchcraft?” You counter, calling her out on her change of mind.

“Hey! I evolve.” She protests. “So… I get to see you dancing and tumbling around, now I’m definitely not missing the dumb pep rally.”

“It’s not dumb, you won! You’re going to nationals it’s a big thing! And coach would totally kill you if you missed the rally.” You tell her, it was true she already missed practice enough, sometimes to hang out with you, but that’s not the point, she definitely should not miss the rally.

“Can’t kill the top player.” She provokes her confidence never faltering.

“You’re so full of yourself.” You laugh.

“Yes and you love it.” She whispers in your ear, her voice extra raspy knowing the effect it has on you.

You don’t like being provoked, so naturally you throw a yellow pompom at her face.

"Hey! What the hell, that's a cheap shot." She almost splutters with surprise as the fluffy yellow thing smacks her right across the face.

“You asked for it.” You conter, as you grab the pompom from the ground.

“I did not ask for a goddamn pompom to the face.” She complains, while rubbing her cheek as if the yellow piece of soft plastic had actually made a dent.

She’s about to protest or tease you a little further when you see a redheaded figure cross the corridor, Van you recognise, one of Natalie’s closest friends, you panic technically the two of you didn’t do anything, at most she saw you attacking Natalie with your pompom. But you were close, too close for strangers too close for friends. You feel your throat tightening, a cold shiver running through your entire body as you stare at the both of them. So you leave, you run, before the situation gets worse. You turn a corner hiding near the blue lockers when you hear the redhead teasing your girlfriend.

“Since when are you best friends with cheerleaders Nat?” Van teases, they’re ever optimistic and teasing demeanour always in place.

Natalie looks at the place where you left and just shrugs. “I’m not, just asking her what time the stupid pep rally was... Let’s go coach is waiting.” And she leaves. But you catch the hint of disappointment in her voice.

You’re getting ready in your room, rather than in the locker room with the rest of the cheerleaders, opting to drive there 10 minutes earlier rather than engage in the cheerful atmosphere.

But you can’t stop thinking about what happened earlier. How you ran away, too afraid to feed into the rumours that already questioned your sexuality, the hint of disappointment if not sadness in Nats voice, your Nat, as she was forced to deny your relationship, yet again.

As you comb your hair for the 57th time, you wonder why you’re even hiding it so much in the first place, sure your parents aren’t the biggest supporters but you don’t think they’d kick you out, and they wouldn’t have to know. No, your fear resided at school, wondering what your friends would think of their captain being gay.

But, the more you think about it, the more pointless it feels, the hiding, the guilt, hurting Nat in the process. You know she told you she was fine with the whole secret thing, but you also know she’d rather be able to run to you after she scored a goal rather than looking in your general direction. So why are you hiding? Because of your friends? Are they really your friends if they’d drop you over something so trivial as falling in love? You know you wouldn’t lose your spot in the cheer team, you were the best, not in a cocky way just in a general factual way.

So, you make a split second decision, you’re not gonna hide anymore, screw what the other popular kids think. Nat makes you happy, happier than you’ve ever been and she deserves better than a girlfriend that acts like she’s embarrassed of her.

You get in your car and drive over to the pep rally, you skip the cheerleaders entirely and make your way to the Yellowjackets locker room, where you hear faint music playing and the sound of excited girls singing and dancing to the lyrics.

You suddenly stop, you feel a cold shiver run down your spine, but you have to do it, plus it’s 4 minutes before the rally none of them are naked they’re just hanging out so you step in.

When you step in the atmosphere shifts, in the way your presence usually commands, the slight respect that comes with being at the top of the high school social scene.

A couple of the younger girls just stare at you in awe. After all, what was the captain of the cheerleading team doing in the locker room? Jackie says hi to you, you say hi back, and that’s when Nat, who had been sitting alone in the back tying her shoelaces, looks at you with a confused expression.

You make your way to her and stop right in front of her. “Hi Nat.” You say as you start fiddling with the hem of your skirt.

“H-Hey hmm…” she fumbles slightly. “What are you doing her?” She questions eyeing you up and down.

“I came to wish you good luck.” You offer.

“Oh um thank you that’s—“

But you don’t let her finish her sentence, before you grab her face and lock your lips with hers.

And Nat ever unable to resist your ministrations, your touch, your presence, the slight tingle she felt under her skin anytime the tip of your fingertips made contact with the skin of her face, kisses you back, slow, deep and practiced, taking her time to savour the warmth of your skin and the softness of your lips, because for the first time, you weren’t embarrassed, you weren’t afraid to be seen with her, to be hers. So she keeps kissing you as your arms make their way around her neck and her hands grip your waist like they were born to be there. She kisses you in front of her teammates, until she hears the whispers and the excited slash shocked and indignant screams that follow. Because she, Natalie Scatorccio, school burnout, just made out with the captain of the cheerleading team, the most popular girl in school in front of her team.

“Good luck.” You say again as you caress her cheek and plant a soft kiss in the corner of her mouth.

“Good luck girls.” You shout as you leave the locker room.

And that’s when screams explode. Lots of “WHAT.” “WHAT DID JUST HAPPEN.” Erupt.

“Nat since when are you two together?” Laura Lee enquires ever so sweetly.

“Who cares. How did she pull her? I mean what?” Jackie interjects. A shocked expression adorning her tan face.

“I agree she’s way of your league” Tai joins in.

“Wait, now I want a cheerleader girlfriend that’s so cute it’s like that jock and cheerleader dynamic.” Mari says, joining in, a moping expression on her face.

The locker room erupts with laughter once again in response to Mari's antics.

“But Mari you’re straight.” Van finally interjects while unable to contain their laughter.

“I would totally be gay for her. I mean have you seen her? Damn.” Mari continues her rant.

“Stop ogling my girlfriend.” Nat finally speaks, begrudgingly, as if the words are slightly stuck in her throat, but her naturally pale cheeks are now adorning a rosy tint she knows she won’t be able to kick before the presentation.

The cheerleaders do the opening act and then the soccer teams walk in. All receiving standing ovations from the school, but you barely listen to it, more preoccupied with making eye contact with a blushing and smiling Nat.

You see Lottie bumping her shoulder with Nat as if to alert her that she’s starting to look like a drooling mess.

“You two are really cute.” She offers.

“Tell her I said she’s way out of your league.” Tai teases once again.

Once the applause dies down, you make your way to Nat, and let her wrap her arms around you as you lean your head against her shoulder, unable to wipe the ever present smile off your face. Natalie leans her head against yours not bothering to dignify Tai’s commentary with a response, not right now anyway, not when you’re looking at her like that, not when you’re finally officially hers.

[cosmicheartz]

Runaway Narinder aus are a rlly fun concept but I’m surprised I haven’t seen one where Lamb just doesn’t particularly care that he’s gone.

Usually the Lamb is like obsessed with Narinder and doesn’t let him leave and when he does they try to find him again and bring him back to the cult ( and I’m not rlly any different bc with my other lamb Maveths main canon he is actively searching for Narinder after his escape )

[bigwishes]

Big's Perma Bulk!

(Community Requested Story, about me perma bulking) What's good bros! It's your favourite wish granting genie here to go on my own transformation journey. Normally I send this kind of thing off to another writer but a lot of you wanted me to be transformation using my own Genie gifts so I've waved my hands and started it off.

I made sure to completely forget about what you guys wanted for me to make it even more surprising but considering all you lot drool at a bicep vein I think I'm in good hands.

After waking up I definitely didn't have anything to worry about. I knew all of you just wanted me to become some big sweaty himbo. Just take a look.

Big arms, thick thighs and a solid chest. I won't lie if I were to make a choice I would of ended up so much bigger than this but hey, it's what you all wanted to I guess I gotta get used to being a himbo stud.

Woah...I guess day two was a little different. I'm a lot bigger ladz so cheers for that but damn, some of this definition is starting to fade. It looks like I'm sliding more to the tank side of the spectrum that the stud side. I'm pretty sure if I move wrong this tank is gonna split in too and my fucking stomach won't stop rumbling, every time I walk in my kitchen I down half a box of cereal, fuck, I should probably take a couple sandwiches back to my desk before I load up some games with the boys.

'BUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRPP'

aw fuck, sorry about that ladz but damn. I woke up this morning and my stomach feels so tight, it feels like my abs are about to split in half. My shorts are so tight around my ass.

Damn what the fuck did you guys wish to happen to me? A slab of muscle instead of abs is one thing but fuck my gut is so bloated, ah man

'UURRRRRRRRRRPP!!!'

whoops, sorry dudes, fuck this is so tight but I still feel hungry, maybe a protein shake and a bowl of rice wont gut, surely this can't get any tighter.

ahhh fuck what time is it? 3am?? why the fuck am I so hungry. I didn't even know it was possible to feel hungry and bloated at the same-

BUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPP

ah man, what do I have in the fridge, mmmmm half a pizza, well I'm sure a couple of slices won't hurt. I hit the gym pretty hard today, its probably my body wanting to fuel up. mmm yeah just 3 maybe 6 slices and I'll be good for the night, probably best to turn the light switch on so I don't make a mess...

w--what the fuck happened to me! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST I'M SO FUCKING BULKY, OH FUCK

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRPPP

DAMN....fuck well....at least it doesn't jiggle, probably just bloated from how much I've been eating recently, who knew having such big muscles would make me so hungry all the time...

hmmm, I probably shouldn't leave just 3 slices of pizza in the fridge on their, own, that's not even a snack, 9 slices is alright at this time of night yeah?

On the bright side, my muscles have continued to blow up to freakish size, my bicep is bigger than most dude's heads. On the other hand....I can't shift this tank around my mid section. I've been trying to eat less to get my abs back but fuck I can't help it, my stomach growls and I gotta eat enough to feed at least 3 people or else it feels like my stomach is gonna eat itself. It's okay, Ill just cut when summer rolls around, use this time to grow as big as I can, bet my abs will look fucking insane in a few months/

Guess the bright side is I can order that nice chocolate cake with my pizza tonight...I'm pretty sure it's cheat night tonight, or was it last night? hmm, no yeah it is definitely tonight?

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPP

ah fuck, wh- UUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRPPPPP

what happened - uurp - to me?

a few *hic* days ago I was a lean mean lifting machine

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRPPPPPPPPP

and now...fuck *hic* uuurp- I'm a big, bulky brute

fuu-UUUUUUUURPPPP-ck, my gut is so tight, moving feels like a chore....I'm so fuckin stuffed and hungry at the same time. Who knew my fans would want me to blow up into a 300lsb bulky beast...

damn...I need a shower but, I could really go for a double cheese burger and a snickers protein thick shake, I'm sure it can wait -uuurrpp- maybe I should grab a couple protein bars for the road..

BUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPP!!!!

I can still feel the spell under my skin, I wonder how much bigger these guys will make me, or what else they'll do...

[kitkat13001]

⋆˚꩜🏕️｡. 1 ➢ TOURIST TRAPPED

𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓 a mha x reader gravity falls au ! -> ft.izuku midoriya, ochako uraraka, shoto todoroki, and denki kaminari ᨒ ོ ☼ prev ➢ m. list ➢ next ➢ 01 - all aboard to oregon !

🗓️ ✎ᝰ .ᐟ 📼⋆.˚

“this is…quaint.”

you’re standing with izuku, packed shoulder-to-shoulder in the doorway to the attic — your new dwelling for the summer. 

it’s one room, walls inclined with the slant of the roof, cobwebs tangled up in the rafters. there’s some rickety-looking furniture in sound enough shape and lots of antique or vintage looking decorations. nothing in the room is matching to anything else. 

izuku hums, offering a little smile. “at least there’s two beds?”

that much true, at least. two mattresses, twin xls, sit on spindly bedframes on opposite sides of the room. 

you heave a sigh and drop your bags with a dull thump. “dibs on the right.”

izuku laughs as you collapse on the mattress, stretching out your stiff legs. “c’mon, we can be roommates. it’s like practice for college in the fall.”

your stomach dips at the mention of it, but you just roll your eyes. “whateverrr. at least it’s not a bunk bed because you toss in your sleep like crazy.”

he’s about to start bickering back when two figures come up the staircase toting more suitcases. 

“sorry ‘bout the close quarters,” hizashi says with a grin and a shrug. “we don’t really get a lot of visitors, y’know?”

“your mom said you wouldn’t mind,” shota adds, glancing at you and izuku as he drops the luggage before you. 

hizashi leans on the dresser, observing the walls and quirking his lips. “‘kay, well! our house is your house, do up what ya want with the place! you’re old enough that we don’t have to watch over you all day, just try not to stay out too late once it’s dark, yeah? woods get dicey at night.”

you and izuku exchange an odd look, but hizashi and shota don’t notice. they just leave the luggage on the floor in front of you and start back down the stairs.

shota turns back a second before he descends. “finish unpacking and then we’ll go out for dinner.” he looks like he’s going to say something else, some hint of fondness deep in his charcoal eyes, but he just clicks his tongue and taps on the doorframe. “good to see you again, kid.”

⏰ 🎞️⏱️ 📼 elsewhere…

𒈔 ִ ࣪𓂀 𖤐 — journal entry 01:

when your parents told inko they were shipping you off for the summer, she asked if they wouldn’t mind taking izuku too. she didn’t want him to rot the entire summer before college (or worse, beef it out with katsuki) plus, they figured you could use the company (since you were less than thrilled with your new summer plans)

you and izuku took turns driving up to gravity falls. it’s about a 14 hour drive but you split it up over two days. you stayed in a motel overnight. pillow forts were built and furniture was nearly broken :)

you actually managed a solid hour and a half of “party rock anthem” before izuku crashed out (he took you off aux for the next three hours)

hizashi lets you two work part-time at the shack’s gift shop for spending money 

he’s generally a really easygoing guy (you remember that from childhood) but he’s serious about the going out after dark, shota tells you later that night

izuku tends to err on the side of caution, but you’re kind of curious as to why he’s so insistent about it

it’s probably just about the animals…right? 

📖 🪬🗝️ — from the author: chapter one whoo!! this has been izuku-centric but the next couple chapters will have more character interactions! stay tuneddd thanks for all the hype!! <33

© kitkat13001 ➢ do not copy, translate, repost etc

taglist: @ceecilya @n3r0-5352 @taxavoider @bloomness @deadhands69 @bowtiepasta @hydeonysus @bloodb3nders @fellowchickennugget @keeeenbeeaan @boreaswrites @bangersplusmash @crushmeeren @agirlenchanted @biodegradablevagina @xoyuji @zukiiiiiiiii @teeesthings @tv-gh0st @reality1escaping @candiiee @bitchyfestivalbouquet (ask/comment to be added!)

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 14: cellar

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

Reblog if you liked it!

TW: Mentions of blood at the end (mildly gross), vomit, Spencer is somewhat rude but it's for the sake of the plot

Throughout his life, Spencer Reid had always been the smartest person in the room. There was no doubt about that, right? He always had the correct answer.

Until you came along.

“Doctor, what exactly are we looking for?”

“Any indication that the suspect kept them here.”

He always answered you reluctantly, and although he didn’t want to admit it, he hated having to team up with you.

There wouldn’t have been a problem if you were just someone above average intelligence, he could tolerate that. But the problem was that you were smarter than him. Maybe your IQ was slightly lower than his, but the main issue was that you were twice as creative. You always found the strangest but most effective solutions, and your mind was always racing a mile a minute. You seemed to have boundless energy, and when you managed to focus, you became the most meticulous person on Earth.

And he couldn’t stand that someone else had come along and displaced him. He was the brains of the team, that was his role. But with you there, what was he now?

You both cautiously descended into the basement of the house, guns drawn in case the worst happened. However, you found yourself in an incredibly luxurious room, dimly lit and apparently housing an extensive wine cellar.

“Lucky us. If we don’t find anything, at least we can steal a few bottles.”

“Everything here is evidence. Don’t touch anything without gloves.”

“I’m aware of that, Doctor. It’s called a sense of humor.”

You seemed to exasperate him on purpose every time, and he made an effort to simply ignore the feeling.

You both split up to search for anything, and meanwhile, you admired the elements around you. The wines were behind some kind of glass display, and LED lights illuminated the space.

You wondered how much it had cost Hotch to get a warrant for the space belonging to a millionaire, although it was probably because you already had a solid profile and some circumstantial evidence.

You thought the guy wouldn’t be so stupid as to keep the women in that place, and that the purpose was likely human trafficking or some other sick thing elites do.

“Find anything?” your partner asked. He only spoke to you when strictly necessary.

“Nothing. You?”

“Nothing suspicious.”

You both sighed at the same time. If you had been a little less resentful, you might have noticed how similar you were, even sharing some mannerisms.

“We should tell Hotch. Maybe we’ll have better luck later.”

You started walking toward the stairs, resigned, but when you pushed the wooden door, you couldn’t open it.

“It’s stuck.”

“Are you doing it right?”

“I’m not an idiot, Doctor. I know how to open a door.”

“Well, excuse me, Doctor. It’s just that physiologically, there are physical differences between us, so I assumed you might need help.”

“I didn’t know you were a misogynist.”

“I’m not a misogynist.”

“Oh, so it’s something personal. Got it. You don’t hate all women, just this one in particular.”

“It’s locked,” Spencer muttered to himself after trying to push with all his strength.

“Wow! You reinvent the wheel, honey. You’re brilliant.”

Your sarcasm irritated him, and everything about you frustrated him. He never thought he could feel so much for someone until he met you.

“Where are you going?”

“Downstairs, duh. You don’t expect the door to magically open if I just stand here, do you?”

Reluctantly, he followed you back down the stairs, and when you both pulled out your phones, you realized there was no signal. If there was no reception, there was no way to call anyone for help.

“We’re fucked,” he muttered quietly.

Rarely did you hear the man curse, but whenever he was with you, that likelihood increased significantly.

With no better idea, you leaned against the wall and stayed silent. Spencer, imitating you, did the same on the opposite wall, next to the wine bottles.

The cellar was just a tiny room, so it amused you that he tried to keep his distance from you even though you could see him the entire time. Still, you said nothing; though you liked to annoy him, you weren’t in the mood right now.

“What are the chances we’ll run out of oxygen?”

“None. It’s not a sealed room, so oxygen can enter through the cracks in the door we came through.”

“Oh.”

You fell silent for a moment, and Spencer thought that was the end of the conversation. Unfortunately for him, you had other plans.

“What if we starve to death?”

“That’s ridiculous. You’re not going to die of starvation. The human body can survive many days without food. In the hypothetical case that we got trapped here, we’d die of dehydration first.”

“Speak for yourself. I see plenty to drink here.”

“Alcohol has the opposite effect, it dehydrates you. That would just make you die faster.”

“It would be an incalculable loss for humanity. They’d lose the FBI’s smartest agent…” you said, and for the first time, he smiled “And you too, of course.”

There was no need for him to respond; his expression told you everything you needed to know.

“It’s impossible to talk to you.”

“Is that why you hate me?” you murmured softly, as if speaking to a child “Because you’re not the smart one anymore?”

“I am the smart one. And I wouldn’t mind sharing that title if the other person wasn’t so cocky.”

“I’m not cocky. I’m just aware of what I know. And let’s be honest, you hate my unconventional way of solving everything. I suppose your condition makes you see everything with pure logic.”

“My what?”

“Your condition,” you repeated as if it were obvious “Autism?”

“I’m not autistic!”

“Have you ever been tested?”

“No.”

“Well, I’d recommend it.”

“Likewise.”

“I’m not autistic. I can handle social situations.”

“Well, there’s something undiagnosed in you that’s definitely off.”

One of your laughs echoed through the room, which only irritated him more.

“Oh, shut up.”

“Make me.”

Spencer didn’t grasp the implications of those words. He was just too annoyed by your defiant attitude to think of anything other than telling you that you really couldn’t make him shut up. However, when he saw the smug smile on your lips, he began to realize his mistake.

You slowly approached him, never breaking eye contact, leaning toward him slightly. Immediately, the man recoiled, his expression showing almost fear at whatever you were planning to do.

With each inch you moved closer, he remained frozen, completely stunned, and just as your breath brushed against his, you reached out to unlock the display case. Carefully, you pulled out one of the bottles and stepped back, nearly laughing at the effect you had on him.

“You know that when you tell someone to ‘make you shut up,’ you’re suggesting they kiss you, right?”

“That’s not true.”

“It is, Reid,” you laughed. The bottle was already open, so you just had to pull the cork, hearing a soft pop.

“Shut up.”

“Make me,” you replied cheekily, raising your eyebrows in a flirtatious way, making him curse under his breath for not realizing his mistake earlier.

You took a deep swig from the bottle, and as soon as the liquid touched your lips, you knew it couldn’t be wine. It had a metallic taste, with a viscous consistency and a salty touch that immediately coated your palate.

It wasn’t wine. It was blood.

“What’s wrong with you?!” Reid shouted when he saw you spit it out to the side. You had dropped the bottle, and it shattered into pieces as it hit the floor.

After seeing you collapse to your knees, vomiting, and noticing the consistency and color of the liquid on the floor, it didn’t take him long to deduce what was happening.

“Check the others,” you choked out, trying to hold back the retching.

Spencer didn’t waste any time and hurried to do what you asked, gently shaking each bottle only to find that they all contained the same thing. Each label had a date on it, and he felt a shiver run down his spine when he realized what it meant: it wasn’t the aging date, it was the birth year of the victims.

“Reid?” you heard a male voice call from outside. The same voice said your name, and that’s when Morgan appeared at the top of the stairs.

You didn’t plan on staying there after what had happened. You needed air, water, and to wash your mouth and hands… take a shower, if necessary.

As best you could, you stumbled outside, walking past the other agents who asked how you were, heading straight for the bathroom, ready to empty the remaining contents of your stomach into the toilet.

In the midst of it all, you felt someone enter the room, carefully holding your hair with one hand and supporting your back with the other.

“Easy,” the person whispered. It was Reid.

He patiently waited until you finished, then handed you a plastic bottle filled with water. You took a sip, gargled, and spat it out, repeating the process several times.

You saw your partner kneeling beside you with a patient but clearly concerned expression, and to his surprise, you smiled at him.

“I guess that’s what I get for being an alcoholic, huh?”

“I warned you not to drink it.”

“And you’re always right, aren’t you?” you teased, but there was a silent gratitude in your eyes.

At least later, you could remind him that thanks to you, they found enough evidence to arrest the criminal.

[ckret2]

Chapter 56 of human Bill Cipher probably not about to be the Mystery Shack's prisoner much longer:

Bill and Mabel wrap up their impromptu lesson on the second dimension, while Ford and Dipper wrap up their final preparations for Bill's execution.

Dipper peeked in through the door to the gift shop. When no one acknowledged him, he cautiously meandered across the living room toward Ford, straight between Bill and Mabel without either of them glancing at him; they were too caught up in Bill answering Mabel's question about how to see through walls with the fourth dimension.

When Dipper was nearly out of the room, Bill suddenly focused on him. "Hey stinky, what have you been up to?"

Dipper jumped. "What?"

Mabel laughed. "Yeah! You smell like burning hair."

"You smell like nightmares," Bill corrected.

Ford muttered a curse under his breath. Ford hadn't noticed a smell, but Dipper's soul had fallen into the Nightmare Realm—did its distinctive scent still cling to him? Would Bill realize what it meant? If he did—

Dipper swallowed hard. "I... was... having a nightmare?"

Bill considered that. "Ask a stupid question..." He shrugged and turned back to the grid he'd been adding notes to.

Dipper sighed in relief. He joined Ford in the entryway to watch the lesson in bafflement. Under his breath, he murmured, "Has this been going on a while?"

"At least the last fifteen minutes." That was how long Ford had been watching. He'd learned a couple things about higher dimensional physics even he hadn't known.

"Wait," Mabel said, "Bill, I get it! You don't look through walls, you look over them!"

Bill's face split into a wide grin. "Explain it!"

"It's like, if I was floating above the second dimension, I could just see over all the walls! But Flatworlders don't even know what 'above' is, so they'd think I was looking through the walls somehow! So there's got to be some kind of fourth dimensional place 'above' the third dimension, right?!"

"On the money, star girl! Give yourself another sticker!"

"YES!" She'd run out of facial real estate for stickers, so she slapped it on her headband.

Bill beamed proudly at her. "How come your brother's the one with the straight A's, huh? You could blow him out of the water if you wanted."

Mabel's smile immediately disappeared.

Dipper hissed between his teeth. "Oooh." Under his breath, he said, "Mabel hates people saying things like that. I should go rescue her." He crept back into the room. "Hey! Bill!"

Mabel turned toward Dipper. Bill only glanced askance at him. Flatly, he asked, "What."

"Uh..." Dipper skimmed the papers coating the room for anything that he could talk about, and focused on the ringed planet behind the TV. He pointed at it. "Is... that Flatworld?"

Bill shrugged apathetically. "Sure, you can call it that."

"Why are all the countries off the planet?"

"Do you think we lived underground?"

Mabel perked up. "Dipper! The shapes live in outer space! In between their home planet and the planet's rings! They only use the planet for vacations and underground science buildings and stuff."

Dipper asked, "Underground science buildings?"

Bill sighed and turned away from the grid, giving Dipper a look that said I'll give you my attention, but I won't like it. "Research facilities. Like wave pools, particle accelerators, and solar farms. Gigantic equipment like that is more stable anchored in bedrock."

(Ford remembered, suddenly, over thirty years ago, Bill telling him that he ought to dig out a subterranean cavern for the interdimensional portal. "A big machine like this," he'd said, "you want that anchored on all sides by solid rock. It'll be a lot more stable that way." Ford had never dreamed that was a trillion-year-old cultural artifact from a dead civilization.)

Still studying the map, Dipper asked, "How do you tell where your country's borders are if you're just floating in empty space?"

"How do you?"

"We use... rivers, and..."

"And sometimes you just make them up. It's not that complicated."

"Were they all as oppressive as the country in Flatworld?"

Bill gave Dipper a withering look. "This isn't a politics class, kid."

(Ford cast a dubious look at the blood-red letters reading "ANTI-MONARCHIST ANARCHISM".)

Dipper scowled, crossed his arms, and looked over the map again. "But, wait—if you were floating in outer space, and you could just... float up and down between your planet's surface and the ring, then why isn't there anything further out than that? What was stopping you from floating all the way to that moon?" He gave Bill a challenging look, as though he'd uncovered a logical fallacy that undermined the whole map.

Bill rolled his open eye. "This is what you get for coming late to class." He pointed his crayon at his star student. "Shooting Star?"

"They did float all the way to the moon!"

Dipper's shoulders dropped. "Oh."

"It was a big extreme sports bragging rights thing," Mabel said. "Like climbing Mount Everest! Except first you have to get through the rings without dying! And it'd take like thirty years to fly there and thirty years to get back!"

"Approximating the human years," Bill said.

"So they couldn't go until they invented cars, because they're fast enough to get through the rings without getting hit and it only takes a year to drive to the moon, but that means you still have to carry enough supplies for two years, and—"

"Hold on," Dipper said. "Cars?"

"Yeah!"

"But there's no ground! They're flying around in the air! They don't have wheels, do they? What makes a car different from a rocket ship?"

"Um..." Mabel looked to Bill for help.

Bill said, "Firepower." He drew a rocket sailing up toward the moon at an angle, its fiery trail cutting through the planet's rings. After a thoughtful pause, Bill added, "I know a guy that used to work at an observatory on the far side of the moon."

Dipper said, "So what happened to your world?"

And there was that hesitance, that guarded look Ford had remembered seeing whenever Bill got too close to teaching Ford enough for him to recognize the danger to his dimension. He turned away from the kids, busying himself with refining the shape of the moon. "Do the math. I'm over a trillion years old! Stars burn out, universes go cold. Your planet will barely last twelve billion years. That's the way planets go."

"Well, if you're so powerful, why didn't you just—I dunno—keep it alive?"

The crayon snapped in Bill's hand.

Mabel gave her brother an irritated look—"Dipper, don't be mean,"—but it turned to a worried look when Bill rounded sharply on them both.

Bill snapped, "Who says I didn't, smart aleck?"

"Wh—I—"

"It is alive, thanks for asking. I made sure of that."

"Then where is it—?"

"Do you think I let you sit in here so you could ask stupid questions?" Bill planted a fist on his hip and pointed toward the door. "All you've done is derail the lesson and bring up stuff we covered three hours ago. Scram, kid."

"What—? But..." Dipper looked to Mabel for help.

Mabel shrugged. Dipper sighed, got up, and trudged out of the living room to join Ford in the entryway, giving him a forlorn look as he did.

Ford muttered, "I used to get kicked out of classes for challenging the teacher, too."

Dipper snorted. "Did he ever kick you out of class?"

Ford thought. "No—but why would he? He needed me to think I was his star student."

Although one time Bill had woken Ford up at two in the morning in the middle of a dream during the portal's construction, because Ford had forgotten some measurements he'd taken in the basement and he hadn't left his notes somewhere one of Bill's eyes could see them. And then, once Ford had retrieved his notes, the irritation of being woken had prevented him from falling back asleep and returning to his Muse.

They'd laughed about it the next night.

"Do you think his world does still exist?" Dipper asked.

Ford shook his head. "The Oracle said he destroyed his dimension himself in his pursuit of power. I trust her more than him."

They stood outside watching as Mabel asked Bill if there was any way for a normal human to see into the fourth dimension without busting their eyeballs. Bill started illustrating a way to grind glass to refract light from several minutes in the future, before abandoning it halfway completed to start explaining to Mabel how regular three-dimensional refraction worked. Ford recognized the unfinished illustration. Bill had included it in his miniature grimoire, too.

Voice low, Ford murmured, "You can't tell your sister we're ready."

Dipper nodded. "She'll be heartbroken."

Ford remembered having the exact same thought that morning. He squeezed Dipper's shoulder. "I suppose I won't be going with her to that concert in Portland tomorrow."

####

"... and that," Bill concluded, "is why the Time Giants banned sixth-dimensional tourism. But by then the damage was done—which is why there's only one survivor left."

Laying on the floor, staring at the ceiling, Mabel said, "I'll never see balloons the same way again."

"Nobody ever does." Bill clicked shut his marker and dropped it on Mabel's chest. "So that covers the last fifty billion years of local politics! Did that answer your question?"

Mabel paused. "I don't remember my question."

"Good. I don't either." Bill sat on the floor beside Mabel and crossed his legs. "Anyway, you owe me fifty grand. All the info I gave you today is worth at least a year of college classes on this planet."

"Pssh, yeah right!" She paused. She sat up. "Wait. Really?"

"I might've skipped a few names and dates and formulas—but sure! We covered all the important stuff!" Smugly, he said, "So, still think I think you're dumb?"

Mabel stared at him, and then around the room at all the papers coating the walls, covered in Bill's handwriting. "You did all this just to prove I'm smart?"

"You proved you're smart. I got a captive audience for the afternoon. Quid pro quo!" Bill grinned. "I wasn't kidding earlier! You've got twice the brains of any of the other morons you'll share a classroom with. I'm surprised it's your brother on the honor roll instead of you."

Mabel's smile faded. Oh. "Yeah," she grumbled, pulling her knees to her chest. "You and everyone else." This wasn't much better than Bill thinking she was stupid: now he had expectations for her.

She'd heard it a million times, any time she did anything intelligent. You're so smart too, why aren't your grades better? Why don't you make grades like your brother?

Because Mabel liked art, music, motion, and stories (and usually not even the stories they read in English class); and Dipper liked—or at least was good at—math, science, and history. Because Mabel's brain fuzzed over with TV static when she tried to read a textbook, and the static got louder the more she was forced to reread it to "study"; whereas Dipper could read a chapter once, retain everything that mattered, and then skim it a second time right before a test to remind himself of the important names and dates. Because Mabel's bulb was just as bright as Dipper's, but hers had faulty wiring, making it flicker on and off outside her control; and she could only get it to glow steadily for things her brain was interested in; and she couldn't choose what her brain was interested in; and school wasn't on that list.

But how did she explain that when her parents were disappointed in her C+ test because Dipper came home with an A? When they told her she just needed to apply herself, how did she explain she was already applying herself five times harder than Dipper and still trailing behind him when the whole family knew she had just as much brains as him? It might have been easier if she actually was stupid. At least then they'd know she was doing her best. But she wasn't doing her best.

She got it from everyone. From her parents, day in and day out; from aunts, uncles, and grandparents; from teachers she'd taken by surprise with a particularly passionate essay; sometimes even from friends. Why aren't you making A's like your brother? So why shouldn't she hear it even from Bill Cipher.

Bill leaned back in surprise when Mabel curled in on herself. "What? I'm calling you smart, kid. Most humans like that."

Mabel shook her head, pouting at the floor. "Forget it. It just—it doesn't matter what my stupid grades are, all right?"

He stared at her in bafflement for a moment; and then said, with a tone of growing horror, "Oh. Ohhh. I sound like your dad."

She hated how much he knew about their home lives. She never knew when he was going to reveal he'd combed through one of her most shameful memories. "Just forget it," she repeated. "I just don't make grades like Dipper, okay?"

"Kid, I didn't mean it like that. I..." Bill floundered for a moment. It was weird to see him struggling for words. He leaned forward, cheek in hand, putting himself eye level with Mabel. "You know—I don't think I'm fond of your brother."

That dragged a small laugh out of Mabel. "Really? You hide it so well."

"I know! I'm a real gentleman," he said. "So when I say 'hey, why aren't you getting A's,' I'm not saying you should be more like him, ugh. I just want to watch the alpha twin trounce that little nerd."

She laughed louder. "Bill! Be nice, that's my brother!"

"And you have my eternal sympathy."

"Bill!" She punched his arm. "I don't want to compete with him, though. Even if I try a zillion times harder, I'll never get grades as good as his." She sighed loudly. But Bill was watching her, full attention on her face, expectant, so she continued: "I don't want to be a slightly worse Dipper, I just... want to be a really good Mabel! And—and maybe a really good Mabel is just okay at school. It's fine if I just... graduate with C's and go to some boring local college to get a boring degree for a boring job... while Dipper goes to some... big, fancy stupid technical college... or..." She trailed off, chin in her hands, staring at the carpet.

"Or while he gets private tutoring from some genius with too many PhDs?" Bill said wryly.

Mabel didn't answer, trying to swallow around the lump in her throat. "I know he wouldn't have actually left me behind."

Bill grimaced, sucking in a breath between his teeth. "Yeeeah, no, he would have," he said. "Sorry, kid. If it weren't for Weirdmageddon, he'd have taken the apprenticeship."

Mabel's stomach flipped. "Oh."

"So, you're welcome," Bill said.

Mabel socked him again, more seriously.

Bill just laughed. "Hey—if it helps, he woulda been worse off for it! He made the right choice sticking with you."

"Really?"

"Would I lie to you?" He paused. "Poor choice of words. I'm not lying to you. He'll be better off suffering through a middle-upper-class Californian high school beside you than he ever woulda been hiding in the woods catching gnomes in butterfly nets."

She nodded. That was some comfort. Even if, in another life, apparently Dipper would've ditched her.

Bill gave her one of those long, piercing looks he sometimes did; and then he nudged her. "Hey. Don't worry about school—that's your parents talking, not you. And don't worry about what your brother does. Let him bust his butt at a big stupid technical college! Flunk every class and draw flowers on the SAT bubble sheet! You'll have plenty of your own things going on, and your dumb grades won't matter for any of them—"

Mabel flung her arms around Bill. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Hey. You're gonna be fine, kid." He leaned his head on Mabel's, one shut eye pressed to the crown of her head. "I—know it's hard. But you'll be fine."

She didn't know how he could know it was hard. He already knew everything, it wasn't like he ever had to worry about grades. But—the fact that he cared (that he cared) meant a lot. "Thank you."

"Buuut, if you ever decide you do want to be an honor roll kid, call me up! I can give you some advice."

Warily, Mabel asked, "Study tips?"

"No way! What a waste of time!" Bill rolled his eyes. "But I can teach you how to cheat."

####

After Ford told Stan and Soos the news about the Dontium, he headed downstairs to fuel up his Quantum Destabilizer. It had been waiting on a worktable in his study for weeks, the corded power adaptor Fiddleford had made plugged in where it usually took fuel, its empty fuel tank laying nearby.

Fiddleford had said the adaptor he'd invented only gave the destabilizer enough power to act like a common laser—not enough to completely destroy matter and energy. It was insufficient for the job at hand. Ford unplugged the power adaptor, carefully coiled it up, and slid it into a storage pocket in the destabilizer's carrying case.

He picked up the fuel tank, retrieved the milk jug of NowUSeeitNowUDontium, and poured it into the tank, eyes never wavering from the jug until every drop had been poured inside and the tank re-sealed. He triple checked the destabilizer's safety before he plugged in the fuel tank. Then he put the destabilizer in the carrying case as well, and shut and latched it.

As he headed toward the door, Ford spied Flatworld laying on his desk—Dipper must have left it downstairs. He picked it up... and then sat down, studying the cover. It showed a square with arms and legs peering through a telescope.

How much did the book really matter? The kids must have cracked open something in Bill's psyche by reading this book, with how talkative he'd been today—Ford suspected he'd learned more about Bill's world in less than thirty seconds of staring at the crayon drawings in the living room than he had in all the years he'd known him. He itched again to start recording revelations in his journal.

Would Bill have been this forthright years ago, if Ford had remembered more about the book then and asked about it? Or was Bill only willing to share so much because the Pines already knew the truth about his cruel intentions and he had nothing more to hide? No, that couldn't be it—just a year ago, long after he'd revealed his plans, Bill had been willing to guardedly confess to Ford that he'd "liberated" his dimension, but nothing more. The only descriptor he'd given of it was "flat." He hadn't even shown Ford an accurate illustration of his home world.

Then was it because he'd died since then—a ghost desperate to share his life story before he dissipated completely? Or was it just because Mabel had asked?

If Bill had been honest when he'd said he wanted to be Ford's friend... then, Ford supposed, it was possible Bill was also sincere in caring for Mabel. No, Ford was sure that was sincere. How many times had he seen Bill lost in thought, staring at the friendship bracelet she'd given him?

Ford idly flipped through Flatworld, choosing a passage at random to read, wondering how much he'd remember.

SQUARE. Most illustrious Sir, I can observe plainly that you are a Circle, though I know not by what magical means you have found an ingress into my dreams. Would your Lordship deign to satisfy the curiosity of one who wishes to know the identity of his esteemed Visitor?

SPHERE. Your question is more difficult than you may realize. To begin with, I am not a Circle, but rather a Sphere, the definition of which I shall explain to you in due time; and you, my humble pupil, if you exercise the full extent of your intellectual and rhetorical capacity, I hope shall be the Square who changes Flatworld. 

SQUARE. Your Lordship both honors and confuses me. I shall strive to be worthy of your high estimation, but I am naught but a mere Quadrilateral and know not how I could contain the potential to achieve such a feat.

SPHERE. I see I have gotten ahead of myself. I shall explain the purpose of my visit. I hope to find in you—as being a man of sense and an accomplished mathematician—a fit prophet to receive the Gospel of Higher and Lower Dimensions, which I am allowed to preach to only one brilliant mind in a century. 

SQUARE. Pardon me, my Lord, if I am speaking blasphemously in my ignorance; but would not a messenger from beyond this Plain who delivers Gospels to Prophets be better described as an Angel?

SPHERE. You may refer to me as an "Angel" if you so wish, as my nature is not so different from the creature you call such. However, I have come not to offer a revelation of the truth of the Higher Dimensions, but to bless you with the inspiration to discover the truth for yourself. In this manner, I am less like unto an Angel than I am to a Muse—

Ford threw the book on the floor.

####

When Ford headed back upstairs, he resolved to tear down all Bill's crayon drawings and throw them away, lest he give into the temptation to waste the rest of Journal 5's pages meticulously cataloguing them.

But when he reached the living room, the walls were bare, with no sign the papers had ever been there aside from some stray crayon marks and a little extra damage to the wallpaper where the tape had peeled up, and a faint smell of smoke.

Ford followed the smell into the kitchen. There was a cast iron skillet on the dark stove, embers and the last few strands of smoke trailing up from it. Bill was sitting at the kitchen table in the dark, staring out into the night, nursing what looked like the second cider can of the night.

"What's all this?" Ford asked.

Without turning around, Bill said smugly, "I knew you'd be back to try to get those papers."

"Wh—? I was coming to throw them away."

"In the middle of the night?" Bill scoffed. "Please."

Ford frowned at the skillet. Well. Temptation removed, just like he'd wanted. Although a petty part of him was miffed that now Bill thought he'd been coming to rummage through his detritus for secrets about his home world, rather than seeing Ford confidently throw it in the trash. "How did you get the stove on?"

"Oh, is it on?" Bill asked innocently.

Ford double checked. It was not, and the knobs to operate it were still removed. But it radiated heat as though it had been; Bill hadn't just dropped the papers in the skillet and ignited them there. (Which would have been an entirely new concern.) Ford checked the cabinet where they kept the stove knobs—all still there. If he asked Bill how he'd achieved that, he'd probably just profess ignorance.

Fine, Ford had plenty of other questions he wanted to ask. "How long have you been able to levitate objects?"

"You mean like this?" Bill lifted his empty cider can, tapped it twice with his index finger, and left it suspended in midair.

"Yes, like that."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I can't do that," Bill said.

Ford sighed in frustration. "Was it the eclipse? You said you were—what was it, 'better at floating' than us? Did it... unlock something? Or have you always been able to do this?"

"This is what I used to like about you, Stanford. You're so curious. You come up with the most interesting connections between things. Sometimes connections I'd never thought of! And you keep—asking—questions. Even when nobody answers you." He finished his second can, used both hands to crush it, and left it floating in the air next to the first. "You used to be such a good student."

You used to be such a good teacher, he wanted to shoot back—but that was a lie. Bill had never been a good teacher, he'd just pretended to be one.

He'd been a good teacher to Mabel today.

Why isn't he always a good teacher? Why had he chosen to be a poor facsimile when he could have chosen to be the real deal? Why hadn't he been better? Why hadn't he been better? Why did they always seem to have these conversations in the middle of the night?

"Why are you..." Ford spread his hands helplessly, gesturing at all of Bill, everything he'd ever done—golden god of infinite wisdom, poisoned by lies and cruelty, trapped in a slowly rotting body. "Why are you like this."

Ford wasn't expecting Bill to get out of his seat and round on him so fast. He didn't even see the blow coming before Bill punched him.

Ford seized Bill's wrist and only barely caught himself before he broke it.

Bill didn't even acknowledge Ford's grip. "I'm so sick of you." His voice was hard as iron. "If you ever ask me that again, I'll burn down this shack with all of us inside."

Ford stared at Bill. He let go of his wrist.

Bill silently swept around Ford and out of the kitchen.

"I'm sorry."

Bill's footsteps fell silent. After a moment, he muttered, "Might've overreacted."

Something about the grudging not-apology hit Ford harder than a proper apology ever would have. He remained standing in the kitchen until long after Bill had gone upstairs.

The cans had fallen at some point during Bill's departure. Ford knelt to pick them up. Experimentally, he tapped one twice, and let it go.

It fell to the floor again.

It occurred to him that, depending on what happened tomorrow, those might have been the last words he'd ever say to Bill.

####

Bill shuffled to his sleep spot under the attic window, flopped unsteadily onto the cushions, pulled Journal 4 from its hiding spot, and carefully stuck the gold star Mabel had given him earlier that day to one of its pages.

And then he filled half a page with all the things he should have screamed at Ford.

####

Mabel came into the bedroom, shut the door—it had been patched earlier that day by Soos—and flopped face up on her bed. Staring at the ceiling, she said, "Dipper I know everything now."

Dipper was already under the covers, eyes shut. "About what?"

"Bill."

"What shape was his dad?"

Mabel paused. "I know almost everything about Bill."

"Pfff."

"But I do know his mom was some kind of supermodel or something! He says that's where he got his good looks. I don't know if he's actually good-looking by Flatworld standards, or if he just has really high self-esteem, but if his mom was a model I guess he could have inherited whatever Flatworlders think is good-looking—"

"How do you know he's not lying?"

"Why would he lie about that? I'll never meet his mom."

"To make his family sound cool?"

Uncertainly, Mabel said, "I guess." After a pause, she loud-whispered, "Did you read Flatworld?"

Dipper figured he wasn't getting to sleep any time soon. He pushed his covers down and sat up. "Yeah."

"It was really messed up, huh?"

Dipper thought about it. "I... guess it was, yeah." He hadn't thought about it much earlier—he'd been trying to wrap his head around the math and visualize the fourth dimension, and then his quick tour of the Nightmare Realm had pushed it from his mind completely; but... "The author's really obsessed with dead baby shapes, huh."

"You remember those old 70s cartoons with singing numbers we watched in class to try to teach us multiplication?" Mabel asked. "I was expecting it to be like that but for old timey people. Not about shapes getting executed for having short sides."

"Or squares getting locked in insane asylums for heresy if they tried to say the third dimension existed."

"Or major sexism against lines."

"Yeah, what was that about? Did they really think lines went around stabbing everyone to death just because they're pointy and they could?"

"I don't know, maybe lines really did do that. If I kept being told to shut up because my head was too skinny to hold a brain, I'd stab my husband too."

"I guess that makes sense." Light through the attic's triangular window illuminated the room a deep gray-blue; but as Dipper watched, the room darkened as a cloud covered the moon. It was probably going to rain tomorrow. "And... this is where Bill grew up?"

"Yeah," Mabel said quietly. "Some details are different from the book, he said so. Like he told me colors weren't illegal and peace-cries were just a dumb etiquette thing. But..."

"What about the executions? Or—or triangles being treated like servants by everyone else?"

"I don't know. He didn't want to answer questions like that. He talked about stuff like dance clubs and gardening in space, but he got super mad when I tried to ask about the serious stuff."

"Maybe he got his power as part of some... triangle uprising? And then he went crazy and decided to destroy everything?" Dipper was thinking, again, about the Axolotl's half-remembered prophecy. That maybe Bill was here to help them against some threat even worse than him.

"I can see why he destroyed his dimension," Mabel said.

Dipper winced, "Okay, but—sure, it was bad, but that doesn't mean his entire dimension deserved to die."

"No, of course not," Mabel said quickly. "But like I get it. If all that was going on."

"If it was. Just... how much is different from the book, and how much is true?"

"I don't know."

The room fell silent again.

"Welp," Mabel said brightly, "I've got the rest of summer to get the whole story out of him! Goodnight, Dipper!"

Dipper's stomach flipped with guilt. "Yeah." The rest of summer. Mabel left for Portland in the morning. "Goodnight."

He lay down, pulled his sheet back up, and stared at the ceiling.

Friday, 11:00 p.m.

####

(Next week's chapter is exactly what you think it is. But before we get there, I'm looking forward to hearing what y'all think about this week!)

[theprongspotter]

Bag - Jegulus - @stag-microfic - Day 19 - 1,009 words

Regulus stands near the entrance of the student union, staring down at his phone as his thumbs dances across the screen with rapid precision. Barty has been blowing up his phone for the past five minutes with increasingly ridiculous messages, ranging from “r u dead or smth??” to “im dying of boredom in this hellhole.”

“Get a grip,” Regulus mutters under his breath as another notification from Barty pinged onto the screen. He responds quickly, reassuring his impatient friend that he’d be there soon, though Barty’s dramatics were beginning to grate on his nerves. He can practically picture Barty slouched over a table in the library, drumming his fingers in exaggerated impatience while Evan probably sat quietly, ignoring his antics.

Just as he finishes typing, a voice rings out sharply through the busy hallway: “Look out!”

Regulus barely has time to lift his head before a figure comes barreling toward him like a freight train. His eyes widen, and for a split second, everything seems to slow down. But there is no stopping the inevitable. The next moment, the person’s solid frame collides with his, and the impact sends Regulus sprawling backward onto the cool tiles. His phone slips from his fingers, clattering onto the floor beside him.

A sharp ache radiates through his lower back and elbows from the fall, and Regulus grimaces, his palms pressing against the ground for support as he momentarily lays there, dazed. There is a murmur of concerned voices around him, the hallway bustling with students between classes, but Regulus ignores them as he mentally assessed the damage. It isn’t until he gathers himself to stand with his phone in his hand that he notices something was missing.

His tote bag.

The realization hits him like a second wave of panic. His black tote bag, the one that carries his laptop, books, and—most importantly—his latest assignment, is no longer slung over his shoulder. Regulus’ gaze darts around frantically as he scans the ground around him. A wave of frustration surges in his chest. Of course, he thinks bitterly. Just my luck.

As if this day can’t get any worse, a figure steps into his line of sight, holding the missing tote bag in one hand. Regulus’ eyes flickers up, ready to snarl, but the words catch in his throat. Standing there, with an awkward, sheepish smile, is none other than James Potter, the university’s star rugby player and, unfortunately for Regulus, his brother Sirius’ obnoxiously loud best friend. His presence is both a blessing and a curse—at least he has retrieved the bag, but now Regulus had to deal with him.

James’ smile is lopsided, his hand moving to rub the back of his neck in a nervous gesture. “Sorry about that,” he says, his voice warm and slightly breathless. “I—well, we—” He gestures over his shoulder, and Regulus notices the group of people standing a few feet away: Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, and Sirius himself, all of them looking somewhat amused by the situation. Sirius has his arms crossed, a grin playing at his lips as if this were all part of some grand joke.

Regulus scowls, his irritation flaring up again as he snatches his bag from James’ hand. “Yeah, whatever,” he mutters tersely, his sharp gaze darting away from James and back toward his bag as he checks for damage.

James, however, doesn’t seem put off by the attitude. If anything, his grin widens, his hazel eyes twinkling with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. “I’m James, by the way,” he says, as if Regulus hasn’t just dismissed him.

“I know who you are,” Regulus snaps, slinging his bag back over his shoulder. He adjusts the strap with a little more force than necessary and begins walking toward the library, trying to put as much distance between himself and Potter as possible.

But James isn’t easily deterred. He falls into step beside Regulus effortlessly, his grin now teasing. “Oh, so you’ve heard of me?”

Regulus shoots him an irritated glance. “The whole school knows who you are,” he retorts, wishing Potter would take the hint and leave him alone.

James raises his eyebrows, his smirk growing more playful. “Yeah, but this is different.”

Regulus stops mid-step, turning to face James with a raised brow. “How?”

James takes a step closer, his voice dropping slightly as he answers, “Because you’re you.”

Regulus blinks, completely thrown by the response. His brain scrambles to process the sudden shift in tone, but the confusion only deepens his frustration. “Yeah, that makes no fucking sense,” he finally says, shaking his head as he turns on his heel and resumes his walk to the library.

James laughs lightly, easily falling back into step beside him. “Where are you headed?” he asks, his tone friendly, like they are just two mates chatting after class.

“Away from you,” Regulus mutters, keeping his eyes fixed ahead.

“Aw, now why would you say that, love?” James’ tone is lighthearted, but the endearment makes Regulus’ stomach flip involuntarily. He clenches his jaw, fighting the urge to snap back.

Before he can respond, Sirius’ voice rings out from behind them. “Oi, Prongs! Stop flirting with my brother and get back here!”

Regulus and James both turn to see Sirius standing with his hands cupped around his mouth, Remus and Peter standing nearby with amused expressions. James chuckles, giving a playful salute in response. “Right, right. I’m coming.”

He looks back at Regulus, his grin still annoyingly charming. “See you around, Reg,” he said, his voice low and warm, and before Regulus can come up with a retort, James winks at him and jogs back to his group of friends.

Regulus stands frozen for a moment, his heart thudding annoyingly in his chest. His cheeks flushes, much to his dismay, and he scowls at the floor as he hurries the rest of the way to the library. No matter how hard he tries, though, he can’t shake the lingering warmth from James’ attention—or the fluttering in his stomach that just won’t go away.

[plussizefantasia]

CozyTober Day 11: Last Minute Family Gathering

Steve Harrington x reader

warnings: mention of Steve's shitty homelife, other than that just fluff

WC: 1.2k

a/n: I'm OBSESSED with how this turned out! Steve is such a sweetheart and I love him so much in this! Reblog if you liked this and keep a look out for Day 12! (I'm catching up I promise)

You knew that Steve’s home life left a lot to be desired. In all of your years of knowing home, you could count the number of times he had told you about family dinners on your hands. You’re not sure if that was because Steve had family dinners so infrequently that there wasn’t much to share, or because when he did have them they weren’t the kind of night he liked to talk about.

Either way, when your mom told you that you’re cousins and grandparents on her side were coming over for dinner that night you knew that you could give Steve at least one good family dinner memory.

Everyone’s family had ups and downs but your mom’s side was your favorite and after dating Steve for a year you thought it might be time to introduce him to everyone. When you called to ask if he wanted to come over he practically jumped down your throat to say yes and then promptly began panicking.

“What should I wear? What should I bring?! What if your grandma doesn’t like me? What kind of stuff does your grandpa like? Should I be right on time? Or should I be like fifteen minutes early?” Question after question tumbled out his mouth.

“Stevie, baby, listen. You can wear whatever you want but it probably wouldn't be a bad idea to wear like a sweater and a nice pair of jeans. If you come early, we can hang out in my room until it’s time for dinner and I’m sure that everyone will love you because I love you and they love me.”

“I love you too.” His voice crackled through the phone, “You still didn’t tell me what your grandpa likes.”

“I will see you at 6:00 baby. I love you.” You hung up the phone and took a deep breath, nervous but excited jitters running through your body.

You passed the kitchen on the way up to your room and poked your head in to see your mom already in the midst of cooking.

“Hey Ma, Steve’s coming for dinner okay? He’ll be here around 6.”

She looked up from the bowl she was stirring, “Oh, that’ll be so nice, I haven’t seen him in ages.”

“It’s been two weeks Mom, you talked to him for like half an hour the last time he came to pick me up for school. We were both late to the first period.” You raised an eyebrow at him.

She just rolled her eyes and waved you off. How come she got to roll her eyes at you? If you did that to her you’d lose your walkman for like a whole week!

Steve got there at 5:45 before any of your family arrived and he parked several houses down. When he got to the door you were already standing there with a question on your face. “The heck you park so far away for?” 

He shrugged, “Wanted to leave enough space for everyone to park close to the house.” 

“You’re sweet.” You told him and gave him a soft kiss. 

Clutched in his hand were two small bouquets of flowers, they looked like they had been one big one that he had split in half but the thought was all you really cared about. He handed the smaller of the two off to you and kissed you once again, “You didn’t tell me what I needed to bring so I figured flowers were a safe bet.”

“You figured right, come on in, Mom’s doing pre-dishes so now is a good time to interrupt.” You pulled him through the doorway and shut it behind him. You took his jacket from him and hung it up in the hall closet. You made your way into the kitchen shortly after Steve and were not at all surprised that he and your Mom were already in deep conversation. 

You waited a solid fifteen minutes before interrupting, “Mom, can I take Steve now I wanted to get my homework done before everyone got here.” 

“Oh, sure! I’ve got a ton to do anyway.”

“Need any help?” Steve, gallently but unnecessarily asked.

“No, no you two go head upstairs, I’ll call you when people start getting here.”

“Okay, thanks Mom, Love you bye!” You call after you, not-so-subtly shoving Steve out of the kitchen and towards your room.

Once inside the safety of your four poster-covered walls, you flop down on your bed and drag Steve with you.

“What homework did you have to get done?” He asks.

“Oh, none. But I didn’t feel like standing and watching you talk to my mom for another hour.” 

He chuckles and wraps his arm around your waist, the two of you both lying on your sides and facing each other.

“Fair enough. Could you give me the rundown on everyone who's coming?” Steve asks, not doing a very good job of hiding the nervousness in his voice.

And you did, you spent the next hour in bed with your boyfriend detailing the ins and outs of your family relationships. Naming everyone and telling him who is who and what each of them likes and doesn’t like. You give him pointers on things to talk about and things to avoid and even quiz him on all the information you unloaded on him. He passes with flying colors just like you knew he would.

You're interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell. You feel Steve tense up in your arms and kiss him as a distraction.

“Remember, They’ll love you because I love you and they love me. Okay?” You reassure him and smile when he nods. 

Your family slowly starts to trickle into the house and make their way to the dining room. You quickly claim your seats and place Steve in between you and your Dad; both giving him a buffer from people he doesn’t know and making him the buffer between you and your dad who is one of the grossest eaters you’ve ever met.

As the night goes on Steve perks up and starts talking to people. By the end of the night, you’re pretty sure that your Grandpa likes him more than you which you’ll deem a victory even though it stings a little.

The family migrates from room to room ‘saying their goodbyes’ for like two hours. But eventually, the house empties and it’s just you Dad, who is snoring in the recliner in the living room, your mom who refuses to let either of you help with dishes, and the two of you.

“So, was it as scary as you thought it’d be?” You asked Steve.

“Scarier.” Is his response, you smack his shoulder lightly and shake your head.

“Well, you didn’t show it, who knew you knew so much about the Roman Empire? I don’t think I’ve heard Grandad talk that much like… ever.”

“I think it’s a dude thing.” Steve laughed.

“Well, whatever it was he liked you. They all did.”

“I think so too.” Steve smiled. 

“So… you wanna come for Thanksgiving? My mom is making her garlic mashed potatoes and you love those.”

“Sure, I do love those potatoes.”

“Oh, I see how it is, the potatoes are your priority?”

“Yep.” He grins.

“Alright.” You put your hand up and start walking away. Steve manages to snag your hand and pull you back towards him.

“You know I love you.” He says, kissing you on the forehead, “I just love your mom’s mashed potatoes more.” 

You smack him.

[jackdraw-spwrite]

Star Nursery

Words: 4660 Characters: Clockwork, Danny Warnings: None Also on AO3

Sometimes, the timeline needs a little nudge to get things going in the right direction. And sometimes, it needs more than one. At least, that's why Clockwork tells himself he's showing Daniel the stars.

---

The room was dark when Clockwork appeared. Around him, dark shapes were distinguishable only by a night light, by Clockwork's own glow, and by the window, blinds open to a snowy December night. Lit by the neon sign out front, the flakes drifted down outside like falling stars.

The soft silence of the snowstorm would have swaddled the room, if not for the muted rises and falls of voices one floor below. Though the sound was dampened, the cadence was that of an argument. Occasionally, snatches of it survived the smearing effect of the walls. A careful listener could probably discern the topic.

Clockwork didn't care.

He focused instead on the bundle in the crib. Daniel was tiny, his hair fluffy on his head. One hand was curled into a fist, impossibly small. 

He was sleeping soundly. 

Read the rest on AO3, or below the readmore:

There was a thump loud enough to rattle the walls. The argument fell silent.

Daniel had been sleeping soundly, at least. He shifted, grimaced, and prepared to scream at the interruption to his nap.

Before he could, Clockwork picked him up.

"Hello, Daniel," he murmured. He pulled Daniel to his chest, rocking him gently to soothe him.

After a moment, he added, "Daniel, I have something to show you."

Mistily, the baby’s eyes opened, focusing on Clockwork. Too young to know fear at a stranger's face, he reached clumsily for his hair.

Clockwork gave him his index finger instead. Daniel wrapped both his tiny hands around it. Eyes wide, he studied it a moment and then pulled it towards his mouth.

"Yes, I am fascinating, I know,” said Clockwork, as Daniel gnawed on his glove. “But you'll like this much better."

He held out a hand and a circle of blue swirled to life at his fingertips. He carried Daniel through the portal, and–

—

"Look," said Clockwork, and directed the child's vision.

Daniel's eyes grew wide, and he reached out a hand as if to grab at what he saw.

Above, below, and everywhere around them was the inky void of space studded with countless stars. In an immense cascade of light, a great strip of them split the sky in two.

Each and every star seemed to hold hints of a different color, a sincillating rainbow of red to blue. They varied in brightness and as the moments passed they seemed almost to dance among themselves.

No, they were dancing. In a slow waltz, the brightest points of light sped past the dimmer, stars exchanging places with one another in a dizzying spectacle: a mobile to put all others to shame.

Daniel stared, transfixed, and did not look away until sleep weighed his eyes closed.

—

"Daniel, I have a present for you," murmured Clockwork, nudging the two-year-old awake.

Blearily, he squinted at Clockwork. His serious expression lent him a gravity that was entirely undone by his chubby cheeks and the incredible cowlick rising from the back of his head. 

Clockwork didn't let his amusement show, instead letting Daniel wake at his own pace. He'd been showing up long enough and often enough that Daniel would recognize him.

After a moment, he was rewarded by Daniel widening his eyes and twisting to get a good look at their surroundings.

Already wide, his eyes grew even wider.

Beneath them, the rings of Saturn stretched like an immense road. The stars were cradling the pair of them, solid and steady.

And beside them loomed the immense bulk of Saturn itself, banded and pale and breathtaking, crowned by a circlet of glowing blue.

Danny squealed in delight, wiggling to be set down. Instead, Clockwork let go--

—

--and Danny giggled, hair floating free in a halo that glowed in the light of the binary suns behind him and for a moment, it was as though he had his own corona.

At Clockwork's back was a tiny, frigid planet coated in a filigree of white.

He smiled and reached out to catch Danny's hand.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

Danny nodded.

—

Clockwork had shown Daniel many, many planets by now. The one below them was dark and small, but growing. Every few moments, impacts spiderwebbed out into tiny red lines that faded just as quickly.

The planet's star hung to the side, close enough that it resembled a coin instead of a point of light. 

"Daniel, do you know which planet this is?"

He shook his head. His hair twisted gently in the low gravity, like seagrass.

Clockwork smiled and said, "Watch."

At just the right moment, he pulled their progress through time from blistering speed to something far closer to real time and pointedly looked at a particular point in the stars around them.

Daniel followed suit.

It started as a pinprick of light just barely brighter than the backdrop. And in slow motion, the shadow of an asteroid grew from it. It grew from a pinprick to a coin, and grew again until it loomed enormous before them, and before the infant planet. So close, it was easy to see that it was rounded by the strength of its own gravity; a planetary mass in its own right.

And then it struck.

Even so early in the existence of this solar system, the gas surrounding the planet wasn't thick enough to carry sound. But the impact before them kindled to a blaze so bright it had a roar of its own.

Time for them may have been allowed, but it was still significantly faster than real time, so in the hours that followed, the cataclysm unfolded before them like a dancer’s skirts.

The planet deformed terribly, countless flakes of it crumbling away or rippling outwards, away from the impact site. Yet more were flung outwards in a cloud of cosmic debris. And then, finally, the paired masses began to pull apart again, taffy-like.

Slowly, the masses separated. The furiously flowing bridge between them cooled and broke apart, pieces beginning a slow fall back to the planet where they splashed back into the gaping wound of the impact. The planet’s new moon lingered nearby, just as disfigured. The glow from its scar was bright enough to wash away the stark shadows of space on its dark side, and the molten rock shimmered like an angry burn.

Slowly, they dimmed. First to orange, then red, then just a hint of it brushing the edge of the visible spectrum like a slumbering giant just out of sight.

Shadows returned. 

By the time Danny's eyes grew heavy with sleep again, the smaller of the two objects was round and gray in the light of the star.

He'd rested his head against Clockwork's shoulder as he watched, and now Clockwork bent his head to ask him, "Do you know now?"

Danny shook his head, looking up with sleepy eyes.

"It's Earth. Your home."

—

"This is what a nebula looks like from the inside."

Around them, the stars seemed almost to trail veils. Or, to decorate them like gems.

"They're also known as star nurseries."

"Star Nusr'y"

"That's right, Daniel," Clockwork said. He combed a hand through Daniel’s hair. "Isn't it pretty?"

One finger in his mouth, Daniel nodded fervently.

—

The moment they appeared through the portal, Clockwork spread an ectoplasmic construct beneath them before letting Daniel down. 

He swirled his cloak from his shoulders and spread it out before settling atop it in a coil. He patted the spot beside him and Daniel turned from where he was peering at the ground and half-floated, half-stumbled over. 

The gravity where they were was odd, partway between Earth's surface gravity and the absence of it. In it, Daniel was adorably clumsy.

Clockwork hid his amusement in his smile. Daniel was three – "And a haff," he'd insist, stubby fingers held up to emphasize the point – and very serious. He wouldn't take it well if he thought Clockwork was laughing at him. 

Clockwork offered his arm as an anchor as Daniel settled beside him, and pulled him close once he was seated. Daniel's little hand grabbed hold of Clockwork's tunic, and Clockwork felt a surge of fondness. He'd watched it grow from a hand that could barely grasp his finger, and yet like the rest of him it was still so very small. 

He spent a space of breaths savoring the contact.

"Well Daniel,” he said at last, “do you know where we are?" 

From the shelter of Clockwork's arm, Daniel looked up and shook his head. 

"Do you want a hint?" offered Clockwork. 

A nod.

Daniel wasn't in a particularly talkative mood yet. Clockwork had woken him only minutes before; he was still fuzzy from sleep.

And in other ways. His hair wasn't quite so unruly here as it was in zero gravity, but it still stuck up at odd angles. In places, it puffed out like the down of a baby bird.

"You should be able to recognize where we are," said Clockwork. "Not here specifically, but the colors and landscape should remind you of somewhere you've seen before." 

"'peficaly," muttered Daniel, and scrunched his face into a grave frown. 

Clockwork filed the sight away, then did the same with the heartache. He still had a little time. 

.

Daniel had decided he wanted another, more careful look at the landscape beneath them. He was smushing his face into the platform in his focus, and muttered softly to himself as he puzzled out where they were. 

Clockwork felt a smile wrinkle the corners of his eyes and kept quiet. The landscape beneath them was distant, he thought, but recog nizable. With only the dark of space to compare it with, the land was pale. It was craggy, too, and dotted with countless craters.

He wanted this night to be memorable for Daniel for more reasons than the conversation they would have, and Daniel had longed for this sight for as long as he'd been able to form sentences. 

He would piece together the clues.

Had pieced them together. He scrambled onto all fours and whipped his head to look at Clockwork. His eyes were huge and shining. 

"The Moon?!" 

After a teasing moment to let Daniel’s anticipation build, Clockwork nodded. 

Impossibly, Daniel’s eyes grew even larger. The emotion radiating off him built like a volcano until Clockwork could imagine it humming under his skin. 

The squeal of excitement that erupted would have been deafening if Clockwork hadn't anticipated it. Still, he was glad the volume cut significantly as Daniel slammed himself back down onto their platform and continued to yell his delight directly into it. Or tried to, at least. With the reduced gravity what he managed was more of a float. 

Clockwork chuckled and settled in to watch his little boy try to expel more excitement than he could physically contain. It would be a while before the excitement died down, and Clockwork intended to savor every moment. 

.

Clockwork stroked one hand through Daniel's fluff. With his other, he pointed to features on the moon's surface. They were overlooking the far side of the moon, and though Daniel had spent much time looking at maps of both sides, the low angle was contorting even landmarks from satellite images into something more earthly.

With each feature explained in terms he could understand, Daniel made appreciative little oohs and ahs. Even at three (and a half) his attention for all things space outstripped all other topics. Clockwork was grateful for it: each crater, peak, and exposed basalt plain meant another scrap of time like this.

…

He was putting off the conversation they needed to have.

He knew that.

It didn't make it easier to stop. 

Clockwork had the power to slow time, and to stop it. If anyone could, Clockwork was the ghost who could hold onto a moment forever. A ghost did not gain power like that without wanting it, without needing it as a human needed air.

Clockwork held a reputation as cool and reserved. As almost uncaring in his distance. As impersonal as a mountain river, and just as cold.

Clockwork was reserved. Clockwork was distant. He had to be, because he was also deeply, terribly, cruelly sentimental. He loved as a river ran: swiftly, deeply, ceaselessly. 

He loved Daniel.

He knew that soon they would part, and so soon was not happening.

Outside their little bubble, the world was frozen. 

But while Clockwork had gained his powers over time from sentimentality, he'd mastered them with discipline. He steeled his resolve. 

"Daniel," he began, "there is something I should tell you." 

Not want. He did not want this. Nor must. He could avoid this conversation. But for Daniel… 

For Daniel's sake, he would have it. 

Daniel looked up, floppy contentment draining from his limbs. 

"Cl’work?" he said, slurring the first half like he hadn't done since he’d mastered Clockwork’s name. His eyebrows furrowed as he pulled himself to his knees. 

Clockwork had planned this conversation. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say he'd charted it, tracking the best paths through a multitude of futures. His sight had shown him how Daniel might or might not react with every spoken turn.

What it had not shown him was the grief like lead in his chest. 

He took one of Daniel's hands in his. It was so small. 

And yet. 

It felt like there was something stuck in his gears. But his ticking was regular. His pendulum’s sway was familiar. He was functioning.

And yet.

Had he been human, Clockwork would have wet his lips. He was tempted to do so anyway. Just a fraction more time…

He was deviating from his script.

“You’ve grown in these past few years,” he started. Saying so felt comical, with Daniel’s hand still so tiny in his own.

“I already knew that,” said Daniel, wrinkling his nose.

“Of course you did,” said Clockwork. “You’ve been there for all of it.” Was his voice thick? Could Daniel tell?

Footing lost, he opened his mouth to continue.

I’m leaving was too heavy to leave his lips. As was, We will have to say goodbye soon.

I love you felt feather-light on his tongue. He stayed it for other reasons. To say such to Daniel shortly before vanishing–he was cruel. He liked to pretend he was not that cruel.

“You’re growing up,” Clockwork said. It was not in the script.

“Oh,” said Daniel. His voice was small.

Even with such a small deviation, the timelines were starting to shift and sprout new branches. It caught Clockwork off guard. He found himself surrounded by a sensation of space, vast like their surroundings.

Adrift.

The possibilities here…

No. He needed to stay focused.

“‘r you gonna say,” Daniel’s tone shifted to mimicry, “A Fenton isn’t scareded of anything and. ‘m too smart not to start early or the other kids wouldn’t havva chance an’. It’s only acoupla hours anyway?”

The sentence had been too long for Daniel to manage at once, full of awkward pauses and trailing sounds as he lost his breath and found his words. But the point of it was clear, regardless.

“Your parents told you that,” Clockwork said. It wasn’t a question, but it would let Daniel follow the conversation.

Daniel nodded, looking down so his hair fell over his eyes.

Clockwork hummed. Daniel was three, nearing four. It would be some time into the school year before he turned four, so registering him for preschool was unusual. A more common choice at his age would be daycare, but with his parents’ rock-solid belief in Daniel’s intelligence…

Daniel was looking up through his hair at Clockwork.

His core ached.

The parenting books had said that children of preschool age would feel afraid of starting preschool for a number of reasons. They did not say what children of Daniel’s age would be afraid of, starting preschool.

“And you would like me to say something as well?”

A nod.

He pulled Daniel into a gentle hug, and ran a hand through Daniel’s hair. It was the same motion he’d long used as Daniel fell asleep watching the stars around them. It should be soothing.

Softly, he asked, “Can you tell me what you’re worried about?”

Daniel ducked his head and muttered something unintelligible.

“What was that?”

“Jazzy’s got friends.”

This was not all Daniel would say. Clockwork waited.

Daniel had grabbed hold of Clockwork’s cloak. Now he twisted it in his hands. Contemplative. Fretful.

“What if,” he said. “What if.”

Clockwork tugged their hug a little bit tighter. “I see.”

And Daniel relaxed, head falling against the pane in Clockwork’s chest. He could feel it, warm and solid, hair feathering against the glass. It tickled, a bit.

“You’re worried you won’t make friends?”

Daniel nodded.

In the timelines he’d so meticulously navigated before bringing him here, Daniel had made them. Though the timelines were spiraling and blending around them now, Clockwork had little doubt that was still the case. For all his youth compared to his classmates, Daniel was a bright and friendly child.

For a moment, Clockwork considered telling Daniel that his fears were groundless. But. For all that this was an unexpected conversation, it was not an unforeseen one. Clockwork had expected to steer around it with Daniel none the worse for its lack. But he’d done his research. The paths through this conversation had been sparse at first: Clockwork could only consider paths one of the participants might take, and he hadn’t known to consider some options put forward in the parenting books.

He was the ghost of time, not parenting.

Do not minimize, the books had said. Do not dismiss. Acknowledge the fear. Saying that there is nothing to fear, that they will succeed may not alleviate their fear, only pile fear of disappointing you atop their fear of rejection.

They’d gone on to list other fears a child could have, starting preschool.

Separation anxiety…

Clockwork tugged his thoughts from the path with a twinge of guilt. Neither he nor Daniel’s parents gave enough attention to him for that. Regardless, the shape of his reassurance was clear enough.

He gave Daniel a reassuring squeeze and selected a response. “Ah. A whole new group of children your age, and you don't know how well you'll get along with them.”

Daniel said nothing to that. Instead, he kept his head leaning against Clockwork’s chest, soft breaths misting the glass.

“Maybe it won't be all new faces. Have you seen children your age at the park?” He had, Clockwork knew.

Daniel nodded again.

“Did they play with you?”

Another nod.

Not every child had. Some had parents who were leery of the elder Fentons. But others encouraged their children to play with Jasmine and Daniel. Clockwork could not say the reason–he could not read minds, after all. But he could guess they were the same.

“If they go to the same park and are only a little older,” said Clockwork, “they may be in your class. So maybe it won’t be only new children. Does that sound a little less scary?”

Still quiet, Daniel nodded.

In all, about five of Daniel’s classmates would be children he’d played with before. Not that he should tell Daniel that precise figure. This was enough. Any human could have guessed what he’d said aloud.

Clockwork should pull the conversation to what he needed to say. To what needed to be said.

But if Daniel was content to rest his head against Clockwork’s chest awhile, then perhaps it could wait.

Just a little longer…

.

But all things must come to an end.

Clockwork shifted, and pulled his hand from where he’d been using it to cradle Daniel's head against his chest.

Sleepily, Daniel murmured in confusion before bringing one fist up to rub at his eye.

“Cl’wrk?”

It was time. The anticipatory grief in his chest found an echo outside the bubble. Slowly, in shudders, time was beginning to move on.

“Daniel, I brought you here because I have something to tell you.”

Daniel peered at him, suddenly tentative.

The rest of this conversation would be so very difficult.

“Daniel,” Clockwork began. Haltingly.

It would be so very easy to lie.

…

He was looking at Daniel’s hands. He should at least look him in the eye. He dragged his eyes up.

Daniel’s eyes were so very blue.

“I–” love you, he wanted to say. He mustn’t. 

He forced himself to say what came next.

“I am not going to be able to visit you much longer.”

And there was the shock Clockwork had so dreaded.

And there were the tears.

.

Eventually, the tears slowed.

The repeated “no no nos” had too, and Clockwork was left with a wet shirt, a little limpet gripping the fabric of it so tightly his fingers quaked, and a guilt he adamantly ignored.

This was for the best.

He was holding Daniel close, of course. Stroking his back to calm him and humming soothing nothings. It was–It wouldn’t matter if Daniel knew how much Clockwork regretted this. He would forget it anyway. Clockwork could grant himself the indulgence of being kind.

It was nothing to all the other indulgences he’d already taken, with his child. All the other sights. The joy on his face at some new wonder–

Daniel hiccupped.

“We have a month,” offered Clockwork, moving his hand to muss Daniel’s hair. “Two more trips like this.”

“‘ree.”

“Hm?”

“Three,” bargained Daniel. His voice was muffled by Clockwork’s shoulder.

“Two,” said Clockwork, biting back more regret. “One for a bad day, and one for goodbye.”

“Today’s bad.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Daniel tensed in his arms, and Clockwork closed his eyes. Of course he didn’t believe him. Of course he was angry. Why should he be anything else?

Clockwork sighed. “I’ve visited you far too often in the past few years. I want you to know you can handle a few weeks without a visit before we say goodbye.”

At that, Daniel was silent. Clockwork let him be, instead savoring the feel of Daniel’s weight against his chest, even if he was angry. What he would give to have it longer.

But he already had.

Clockwork pinched his eyes shut.

“What if I can’t?" Daniel asked.

“I think you may surprise yourself."

Daniel frowned.

“But if you can’t, you’ll have my help.” He gave Daniel a reassuring squeeze. “We can figure it out together.”

In this, Clockwork felt no guilt in the untruth. Daniel would never need his help, so what might happen if he did was immaterial. Irrelevant.

“And besides, you have your parents and sister.”

“Jazzy’s baw, baws.” Danny began, stumbling over the second word before abandoning it entirely. “Jazzy’s mean.”

“But she makes sure you’re safe, doesn’t she?”

“I guess.” and then Daniel clutched harder at Clockwork’s shirt. “But I want you.”

“You have your parents, too.”

“Want you.” Daniel’s voice was higher now, and plaintive. On the verge of tears.

I want you, too.

“I only show you the stars,” said Clockwork. “Your parents do much more than that. Your sister, too. In a few years you won’t even remember me.”

“I will!”

“It will be kinder to forget, little star.”

“I don’t wanna.”

“You will.”

Daniel was silent for a time. Then, barely a whisper: “I love you.”

Clockwork’s hug squeezed tighter. Fiercely, briefly. Like if he bundled everything he wanted, everything he felt into the action, then Daniel would understand.

I love you, too.

.

Clockwork tucked Daniel in.

He adjusted the covers. He wiped the tear-tracks from Daniel’s cheeks. But the frown still marring Daniel’s face could not be fixed so easily.

It could. All he had to do was–

Core twisting cruelly in his chest, Clockwork stroked his hand through Daniel’s fluffy mess of hair before backing away.

Daniel had refused to give up the idea that he would remember Clockwork, doubling down and insisting and insisting until.

It wouldn’t matter.

Clockwork had let him fall asleep in his arms.

It wouldn’t matter.

Daniel would forget him.

With a swirl of blue, Clockwork vanished.

—

Daniel launched himself at Clockwork with a wail. Clockwork closed his arms around him in a hug, letting his child cling to him as he sobbed in great, wracking heaves that should have consumed all the air in his lungs. They did not die down quickly. For long minutes he alternated sobs with shuddering gasps and for longer still he just tucked his head against Clockwork’s shoulder and whimpered.

Clockwork swayed, watching the expanse around them. It was a simple scene, tonight. Nothing new. Just Clockwork, and Daniel, and the familiar stars of the Milky Way from Sol’s neighborhood, only a few years distant.

As simple and humble as a scene like this could be.

Tonight, he wanted Daniel to find comfort in familiarity rather than distraction in the novel.

He was still sniffling.

Clockwork coiled his tail into a lap and set Daniel in it.

“Would you like to tell me about it?” he asked..

—

Clockwork hitched Daniel up on his hip, and pointed. He was leaning his head a little against Daniel’s, letting his cheek rest on Daniel’s crown where his hand was not. 

"Do you see over there?"

Danny squinted. "Yeah."

"Just watch that spot."

Clockwork had pointed to a patch in the sea of stars surrounding them which seemed veiled by a shadow. Daniel’s eyes trailed uncertainly over the area, back and forth, back and forth.

Clockwork smiled to himself, savoring the bittersweet loss on his tongue. 

Only eleven years. An eyeblink, to Clockwork. Thousands of times that period were unspooling before them every instant as he drew time along for Daniel like film across a movie projector. At his age he'd never have the patience for these wonders otherwise. 

But only eleven years without Daniel carried a different weight, didn't it? Lonely, in an empty tower filled only with visions of his child, come home at last. Visions, for all they would feel like memories.

Eleven whole years indeed. 

As they waited, the stars behind the veil flickered a little, rippling in brilliance as the clouds of gasses in front of them gathered. As they built on themselves, thicker and thicker. The formation of a protostar was a quiet sort of spectacle, like this. Just the sort to put an exhausted young child to sleep. Just enough to fill his dreams with wonders of a similar kind. 

Clockwork hoped.

For all his sight, he wasn't able to see them.

He held Daniel close, and let the hours trail smooth across mental fingertips. Slowly, as Daniel must still have counted it, there came a flickering glow that strengthened into brilliant yellow. Even so, he watched it with the rapt attention which had so captured Clockwork’s mechanical heart. 

Eleven years. 

Clockwork slowed the play of time. Just a fraction. Just enough for a little more time. But of course, there was one thing he couldn’t control here.

One little boy.

Daniel’s eyelids were drooping, his breaths lengthening. Every few moments he would jerk one awake, or twitch. He was fighting so very fiercely to stay awake. But it was a losing battle.

His head dipped to his chest, once, twice, thrice and didn’t lift back up. 

Clockwork looked down at him, a fond smile playing on his lips.

He’d fallen asleep holding Clockwork's hand.

A few stolen moments of indecision later – could he wake Daniel to show him one last sight? Should he? – a portal swirled open before them, and Clockwork left Sol's earliest years with Daniel in his arms.

In his bedroom, stars and space paraphernalia cluttered every surface.

Silently, Clockwork raised the comforter on the bed, slipped Daniel beneath the sheets. When Clockwork wrested his hand from Daniel’s grip and tucked him in, his brows furrowed at the loss.

Clockwork ruffled Daniel's hair for the last time in more than a decade, and leaned down to murmur into his ear.

"Until we meet again, Daniel. Be good."

There was a flash of blue.

And then, the room was dark.

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Surprise Pt. 2 | Soap x Reader

Summary: The boys are slowly settling into your apartment, looking for the terrorist group they’re hunting down, while memories begin resurfacing for Simon.

Word Count: ~ 3.8k

Warnings: Mentions of death, toxic relationship, toxic family, abusive dad, panic attack/ptsd episodes, guns, violence, prob terribly inaccurate to anything military (I’m trying my hardest ok😭)

A/N: this part is mainly for worldbuilding, I’m alr working on part 3 but felt like y’all might want a little update, lmk what you want to see, hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

Previous | Masterlist | Next

It was safe to say that Ghost and Price had a long conversation that night.

“How much does she know?”

The captain had asked, hat hanging over his head before he picked it off between two fingers, setting it on the bedside table in a guest room. The two available rooms were split with Gaz and Price in one, and Ghost and Soap in the other.

Simon thought for a solid moment. He hadn’t told you anything, other than he was going to the military. He’d stayed over at your place maybe once before, years earlier, and all he’d told you was that he had a mission, an important one, something he couldn’t tell you about. To keep you safe.

It wasn’t a lie. At first, you’d been angry that he wouldn’t tell you, but something must’ve clicked at 15 because that was when you stopped questioning it altogether. Then again, at that point, he’d rarely texted you or called you at all. It had been years since physical words were exchanged at this point.

He felt bad about it, but with the last words exchanged between the two of you…it made regret and grief flare up in him all over again.

~

You were pacing. Back and forth, and he wouldn’t be surprised if you burnt a trail in the carpet with how frenzied you looked. Shock, grief, anger, and pure disbelief mixed all into one, your body language reflecting as much.

He hadn’t even taken his mask off yet, leaning against the wall behind him in the home his mother had grown up in. The home he’d grown up in. A home you’d visited before, only because of the court-deemed custody that your father somehow got.

“You didn’t come to the funeral.”

His harsh voice finally rang out, and your pacing stopped. You turned to look at him, defensiveness automatically rendering itself in your expression. Always so easy to read. If only you were like that now.

“I couldn’t make it in time. You know that, Simon.”

You said, and his temper flared. Every single lesson he’d had drilled into him in his military-deemed anger management classes went out of the window at that. At how you defended yourself, even when he knew you could’ve made it on time for that funeral. Or at least he thought you could’ve.

“Really? Or did you know about this, huh?”

He accused, anger building in his tone as he pushed off the wall, stalking closer to you, now pacing in his own slower, more predatory manner. Your eyes widened at his accusation.

“You think I was plotting to kill your mum? The fuck is wrong with you?”

Simon knew it was outrageous, there was no way in hell you would’ve done it. Not when you’d known her, even if only for a little bit. But Ghost….Ghost had been betrayed too many times. He was desperate for any answer, any way to get rid of you so he didn’t have to deal with any reminder of his mother, or Tommy, or his little nephew that had been so painfully young.

Maybe you didn’t understand, but if he made himself believe this…then you wouldn’t be around him anymore, and he wouldn’t have to worry about anyone killing you like they had everyone else around him.

“What about Tommy? Or Joseph? Didn’t make it to theirs either, did you.”

“Simon, I came as soon as I could, you know that. I was in that camp for a month, there was nothing I could-“

“That’s convenient, isn’t it.”

He said drily, stalking closer, hand moving to the hilt of his gun. You didn’t notice, probably because you had no military training or anything of the sort. If he wanted to kill you right now, make you disappear, he could. Easily, too. He could already think of how he’d do it, the silencer on his gun covering the sound as he would shoot you, once in the head, twice in the heart, then he would take you down into the sewers, and you’d disappear-

“You’re fucking crazy.”

Your voice, slightly scared now, and your body language showing just how intimidated and panicked you were, was wobbly at best. Tears welled in your eyes as you opened the door to leave out of the front, your car, a black jeep you weren’t old enough to drive yet, but did anyway thanks to the fake ID you’d made, parked in the rocky driveway.

He snatched your arm up, yanking you back into the room as he pressed you against the wall he’d previously been leaning on. He leaned close, breath coming through the fabric of his baklava and speaking softly, like the old Simon would, to you in your ear.

“I wouldn’t blame you, you know.” He began.

“He was your dad, he was all you had, wasn’t he? Maybe you were jealous, or angry about what happened to him. What I did to him.”

He almost whispered to you, as if it was some forbidden knowledge. Your small body was stiff against the wall, unconsciously leaning away from him. You were terrified. He could feel it.

“You’re insane. Completely fuckin’ insane.”

You said, trying to squirm away, and he let you gain an inch of room, only to force you another inch against the wall. One more and your breathing would be strained if you could breathe at that.

“I’ll let you off, but if I find out you had anything to do with this, with her…”

He didn’t get to finish the rest before you struggled free, and you made it to your car quicker than ever before, and drove off, not caring about any speed limits or anything.

~

“Simon? You here?”

Price’s voice snapped him out of whatever trance he’d been in, and he gave a little grunt in response. Shaking himself out of it, he tried to remember what the captain’s question had been. Something about what you knew.

“The bare minimum.”

“Good. She seems like a good kid, keep her outta this.”

Simon didn’t mention the fact that you had already faced minor charges multiple times, some for breaking and entering or assault and battery, most of which were dismissed by a judge he suspected was paid off. Or the fact that you’d used a fake ID for your car for multiple years. He would know, considering he’d asked Gaz to find you multiple times. You weren’t an easy one to find, almost as if you’d tried to wipe yourself off the grid before turning back on it.

You weren’t a good kid by any means, but by your age, he’d probably been killing people already, so he supposed there were worse things to be doing.

“Roger that.”

Price gave a small nod of confirmation, clapping him on the shoulder as he went to walk to the room that he was sharing with Gaz.

“Get some rest, Simon. We’ll get directions from Laswell tomorrow. Don’t stress over it.”

Despite himself, Simon gave a little nod.

If only he was stressing over things as simple as terrorists and covert warfare.

~

Soap, surprisingly enough, woke up first. It was around 5:30 AM when he did, and Simon was still fast asleep on the bed beside him.

“Scuse me, Lt.”

He mumbled while sliding out of the bed, and walking to where he thought the kitchen probably was, and after wandering around, he found one small dim light on in the general kitchen area. You were standing in the kitchen, wrapping some sort of spandex-looking bandage material around your left knee. The type to help support it, in the case of an injury.

You were wearing a pair of blank shorts that didn’t go nearly far enough down your thighs, and what looked like an old jersey, with a faded number ‘14’ on it. Your right knee had a knee pad on, your left knee pad laying on the table. Your hair was pulled back into a ponytail that was braided.

You both just stared at each other for a minute, before he grinned and obnoxiously whistled.

“Lookin’ good, lass. Where ya headed?”

He asked, already watching the gears turn in your head as you tried to decode his thick accent. Surprisingly, it didn’t take you nearly as long as he thought it would. Usually, new people had to take a few seconds, but you responded almost immediately.

“Practice.”

You replied bluntly, either not a morning person, or just not a talker. By the blank look on your face, he was just assuming you were also a heartless bastard like Ghost. But even Simon Riley had his tells, and he was sure you did too.

“What the hell’ve they got you practicing for at 5 in the mornin’?” He asked, and you looked at him for a moment, as if trying to see if what he’d said was a joke. As if he was stupid. He was not stupid.

“Volleyball. I’m on the team. Got a scholarship.”

His brows raised at that. Another blunt answer. You really were Simon’s sister, weren’t you? And to get a scholarship in volleyball…he hadn’t even known you’d gone to a private school, let alone the fact that you played sports.

I mean, sure, he’d sort of assumed you might based on your muscular thighs and arms he was entranced by, or the sheer unmoving look you always had, barely changing. Volleyball girls always had nice asses though, and you weren’t an exception, that was for sure.

You were either telepathic or had seen him staring because, with a simple snap of your fingers, he had flinched out of his daze.

“Eyes up here, MacTavish.”

You said in a mildly annoyed tone, and he gave you a slightly pouty look.

“Can’t blame me for looking at it when it’s right there, now can you?”

You had only given him another annoyed glance, before slinging a bag over your shoulder and walking out. He didn’t fail to notice the way you checked the peephole before walking out. Or how your eyes darted to the windows consistently, or the nearest available exit.

He didn’t blame you, living alone as a girl in this end of town, you had to be cautious.

~

They had been at this all day.

Laswell had radioed them in earlier, probably around noon after they’d raided your pantry, which only really had bread in various forms in it. Your fridge wasn’t much better, only cheap lunch meats, lettuce, tomatoes, and a few miscellaneous vegetables and fruits.

Since then, they’d been on the hunt for any suspicious characters, any sign of the terrorist group that had gotten away. It had taken a bit of travel, but a few miles out, they’d passed a van, white, with four burly shadowy figures in the darkened windows. Windows too dark to even be legal.

“Armed men, four of ‘em, cap.”

Soap had said, and Price had only given a nod, taking a U-turn to trail the vehicle. It wasn’t every day you would see any military men driving in a white van with tinted windows.

It had only escalated from there.

The van had stopped near an old alleyway with no people around, failing to notice T141, who were now all trailing on foot. They’d left the car behind with Gaz, despite his protests. They needed someone able to drive, and Soap was needed to disable any possible bombs. They were dealing with terrorists here.

Slowly crawling up the building to the right of the alleyway, Ghost let his gun peek down into it through some crumbling brick on the sides of the roof’s edge.

“We droppin’ em’?”

He asked quietly over the radio, and Price, on the building roof opposite of him, replied.

“Not yet. If we can get one alive, we’ll want ‘im for interrogation. Three of ‘em on my count.”

Soap, to the left of Ghost, nodded mainly to himself, his gun focusing on the man closest to a trash can, Price on the man to the right of him, and Ghost to the man leading the other two. The fourth was lingering behind a bit, examining the surroundings. Paranoid.

“Gaz, start bringing in our exfil.”

“Got it, Captain.”

“On your mark, Sergeant.”

With that, the first relatively silent shot went off, and two more followed until all that was left was the one man, who immediately took cover and jumped through the open window of the nearly abandoned building Price was on the roof of.

“Shit. Get him.”

Price’s voice cursed over the radio, and Gaz driving the car came into view only moments later, as Ghost and Soap hopped down from the roof of the building, taking the same route as the escaped terrorist through the building, and clearing it one floor at a time.

Hours later, it felt like they’d searched the whole damn city and come up with absolutely nothing. Whoever they’d missed had disappeared completely, and possibly contacted outside forces of their presence. They had to be careful with this.

“We headin’ back?” Soap asked, and Price replied.

“Affirmative. I’ll let Laswell know what happened.”

And so they headed back to the apartment, only to find you completely not there. Gaz got there first, gun still in hand as he cleared the apartment. Just in case.

“Clear.” He radioed over,

The rest of the boys filed in after that, taking the time to take showers, in the hope that you wouldn’t notice their bloodstained clothes. It was only after they had all changed into casual clothes that Soap remembered about you.

“Anyone know where the girl is?”

Gaz seemed to stir at that, immediately on his feet, when Ghost pushed him back down into the chair he was sitting in at the dinner table.

“She’s at school, lads.” His rough voice spoke, and Gaz and Soap both made an “ohhhh” sound at the answer. It was obvious, but they hadn’t gone to school in…a long time, and you were almost an adult now, so they tended to forget about that.

“Where does she go?” Price asked, taking a sip of his cup of water. Ghost shrugged.

“Some private school, said she got a scholarship for volleyball or somethin’,” Soap added, and Ghost shot a tiny glare at him. The fact that a random Scottish man knew more about you than Simon Riley, your technical brother, wasn’t making him too happy. Soap only gave him a cheeky grin in return.

“You seem to know an awful lot about her, Soap.”

Kyle then spoke up, carefully eying Simon and Johnnie. Even as Simon huffed out of his nose, taking a sip of water. His lips were chapped, Gaz noticed. Soap gave a little shrug, a smirk pulling at his lips.

“Just curious about ‘er is all. We are living in her house, after all.” He answered, and Price stood up, mumbling something about a smoke break while walking across the kitchen to reach the balcony, where he smoked. The first time he’d tried to smoke inside, you’d grabbed it straight from his fingers, and thrown it into the sink before running cold water over it.

It took him a minute to realize that had only been yesterday night.

The week went by quickly, and the boys slowly got used to your schedule. More like they just started fitting into the routine you had, really. Having four random military men inside of your house wasn’t easy, especially when they kept leaving the toilet seat up in the bathroom in the hallway.

“Couldn’t just put the seat down, could they..”

You mumbled to yourself late into the night, slamming the seat down as hard as you could without breaking it. Every time they left it up, you made sure to put it down hard, making enough noise to wake them up. Distantly, you could’ve sworn you heard Johnny’s laughter from the room he was in with Simon, before a low “Shut it.” and a “Roger that, Lt.” was faintly audible.

You had practice almost every night, even some on weekends, which made sense considering you were the team captain for the junior varsity of your school. Once you became a Senior next year, you’d probably get team captain of the full varsity team. A big responsibility, but one you seemed to enjoy, even when some days you would come home, lock yourself in your room, and fall straight asleep without eating anything.

Where they went every day, you never asked. Didn’t want to.

One night, Price walked into the kitchen, where you kept a washer and dryer for the clothes as well, tucked into the room where it wasn’t easily noticed, and saw you pouring hydrogen peroxide on some bloodstains in their clothes. It was strong, stronger than anything you could legally get from a pharmacy, he could tell that much.

Your eyes both met, and you didn’t waver from his stare, and he didn’t from yours.

“You aren’t going to ask questions?” He asked, voice a deep rumble. Your eyes shifted away at that, back to the clothes. As if hiding whatever gleamed within them, the knowledge you had, or what you’d seen. What you knew they did every day.

“Better for all of us if I don’t.”

You’d replied simply, voice still relatively neutral, the barest amount of a British accent lingering even when you’d spent so many years in America. You almost mumbled it, as if used to speaking quietly. Based on the small fragments he knew of Simon’s past, and his father, one that you both shared, he wasn’t surprised. It would be a hard habit to break.

Whatever had kept you from interacting much with Price must’ve changed after that night, because you showed up more after that. It was late at night, and you looked beat, but he could still see the gears working behind your eyes.

“What is it?” He asked as you walked over to where he was sitting in the bed he and Gaz shared, and sat down next to him on it, showing him a notebook. He recognized what was on it, a court of some sort, a net in the middle, and a rotation of numbers, with all the enemy patterns and numbers on the other side of the net.

“Help.”

You stated simply, and he nodded before you explained to him the basics of volleyball. He only really knew the frequently adjusted rules he’d seen on the Olympics sometimes, so it was a lot of explaining, but after that, the both of you were straight to work on finding a rotation and pattern that would work to beat the team that you’d lost to twice this season.

“If 28 is your hitter, why not move them back row, to move in for the kill?”

“It would leave our defenses entirely open. A tip could lose the point and serve, and when we got the serve back, 14 would be serving. She doesn’t do well with serving under pressure. 28 needs to stay front row as long as possible to block.”

“Got it, so..”

He would admit, you were not stupid, and that was for sure. You knew everyone on your team’s strengths and weaknesses and used them to your advantage. It was almost like looking at a younger, female version of himself. Always taking charge, always thinking ahead.

And Johnny…he was obnoxious.

Always flirting with you in any way he could, making random jokes just to hear your tiny laugh or the snort you usually made instead. He couldn’t help it, even when the rest of the guys were getting sick of hearing him.

But, he had his uses, too.

When the remote would break down? Don’t worry, he only took it entirely apart, replaced and tweaked it so it would work, and put it all back together with his nails as a screwdriver.

When you were in an especially foul mood? His terrible jokes came in handy, not because you were laughing at them, but at how stupid he looked telling these jokes, chest puffed out like a proud bird when he saw you snort or your lips twitch, even though he didn’t know whether you were laughing with him or at him.

Johnny was smarter than you originally thought, as well. Had incredibly complicated math homework, and giving you a serious headache? Somehow, the bastard knew exactly how to do it.

“How do you know that equation.”

“It’s simple, really, I use it all the time for me explosives. Reminds me of the time I and the Lt planted them all over, you should’ve seen-“

“On topic, Johnny.”

“Right, sorry.”

But living with military men did have downsides, more obvious than them leaving the toilet seat up, forgetting to do the dishes when it was their day or the same for laundry, or messing up the guest beds. (Though Gaz never forgot about his responsibilities, even taking the time to make you dinner when you would get home late with what little ingredients you had.)

You were a quiet person, and Gaz had noticed it first. How you rolled on your feet, careful not to make noise, not even noticing how you were doing it. Or the way that unless you were slamming the toilet seat down for the umpteenth time, you took extra care in placing things down gently, not dropping them. It was an odd contrast with your blunt, slightly harsh demeanor that reminded him of Simon.

But it had been Gaz that made you fully remember what these men had gone through when you had been scared shitless because of Soap purposefully sneaking up behind you and scaring you, and accidentally letting out a small scream that was more like a yell. Instinct had kicked in, muscle memory as well, and before his mind even knew whose scream it was, his body was moving.

He’d tackled Soap straight to the floor, hands around his throat.

“The fuck, Kyle-“ Johnny had choked out, and it had been Price who’d snatched Gaz up, restraining his hands against his back while you watched in slight sympathy.

It had taken him only a few seconds to calm back down and figure out what the hell was happening, at which he sighed, giving Soap a regretful look.

“Sorry, don’t know what got into me.” He mumbled, and Johnny only stood up, brushing his knees off, and patted Kyle softly on the back.

“Don’t. I get it.” The Scotsman said, before walking out. When he glanced at you, it was the empathy for him that Kyle found most odd. The fact that you seemed to understand.

It was only weeks later that he understood why you could empathize with him over his actions.

Tags:

@yearninglustfully

@kazuyatokue

@kiwibao

@kurokitty6

[jadeazora]

Champion's tierlist. Mostly ranking on initial battle, memorability, and personality. Lance and Geeta have better rematch teams, but you have to pay $30 for Geeta's (I personally enjoyed SV, but the games do have a mixed reputation since they were fairly glitchy, so not everyone was willing to do that), and grinding in HGSS was still kinda a pain, so I only ever bothered doing Lance's rematch once.

Trace, honestly, is memorable only for the Cubone, but has a rather lackluster team that doesn't even have full movesets and is just another friendly rival. He's very bland, especially considering that he's replacing the iconic OG final rival battle for that game.

Geeta's team is AWFUL. Using a trapper last? Using a Kingambit not last? Veluza, Gogoat, and Avalugg? Girl, why do I have to pay THIRTY DOLLARS for you to use your Pokemon correctly? What are you doing?

Diantha has zero story presence, but her team is pretty cool. Tyrantrum, Goodra, and Mega Gardevoir are all pretty solid Pokemon. She's not a hard battle, but in Gen6 they hadn't balanced the EXP Share yet, so it's easy to be overleveled if you use it.

Wallace, Steven (particularly in ORAS), and Iris are all better type specialists than Lance. Steven has two Sturdy Pokemon including one with Toxic, Wallace has Milotic (a Specially bulky Pokemon in a Gen where the moves strong against it are special) and Ludicolo (it probably won't kill you, but Double Team is annoying, and Flying and Poison weren't common attacking types back then. Fly is also inaccurate, and it's pretty much the best move you likely had access to. Unless you went for Dodrio as your Flying type and had Drill Peck, but it's a very late option when your team was probably set), and Iris at least demands a Fighting type in addition to the Ice/Dragon coverage. All Lance needs is Feraligatr with Ice Punch/Ice Fang, and Ampharos with any Electric moves for Gyarados.

Leon is a better battle than Alder, but how the game handles him just ticked me off. Like, it's good having a proactive Champ, that's why I like Alder, but I hate how the game uses him to sideline you until it literally can't anymore. SwSh was a boring game for me, and when anything interesting would happen, he was literally there to just shoo me off into doing my Gym Challenge. It feels like it goes against the "it doesn't matter if you're a kid or adult, anyone can be good at battling!" mantra of Pokemon, and having him be the face of that just made me kinda resent him. The player still feels relevant with Alder.

N, Kieran, and Nemona are some of the best rivals/Champs in the series. I like the story aspects to N and Nemona's fights more than finding them tough, but N had such a cool role in the story, and Nemona's love of battle and enthusiasm makes her a really fun character. Kieran basically has the best of both worlds in a tough battle since they use actual strategies in the DLC, and he's one of the most interesting rivals we've had for a story perspective.

Cynthia has the most aura of the Champions, and, especially with BDSP, has the toughest non-DLC added battle of them. Her roster also has very hard to get Pokemon like Milotic and Spiritomb. The physical/special split made Milotic easier to deal with, but back in Gen4, Spiritomb had no weaknesses and could usually live at least one hit. Garchomp is always strong, but in BDSP, has a Yache Berry and hits like a truck due to being properly EV'd. In Platinum, she's also pretty proactive, going thru the Distortion World with the player.

[strawberri-elixir]

Sleepless nights

╰⇢ 9. Good shit

Warnings: just yuta being in denial again?? (no surprise tho)

note: THERE’S WRITING AFTER THE FIRST 10 IMAGES you don’t wanna miss it :] also thank you for all the support?! i never thought there would be many people who would want to read this series. but i’m thankful for all of you <3

“Alright. So how about we all split up into pairs while we go around the mall?” Nobara took a sip of her drink as you all began leaving the food court.

“That would probably be easier.” Yuta nodded.

“But there’s seven of us.” You added.

“You guys will just have to be in a group of three.” Maki slung her arm over Nobara’s shoulder, giving a sly grin to the black haired boy.

“I don’t think-” Yuta tried to protest.

“Perfect! Inumaki, you’ll come with us!” You interjected, taking a hold of the boy’s hand.

Maki watched with an amused look as Yuta glared at her. He knew exactly what she was trying to do, but it’s not like he could do anything about it.

“Let’s go then!” You began dragging the two boys away.

The three of you then began strolling through the mall, pointing at windows and looking inside the stores. You did most of the dragging, pulling Yuta and Inumaki into whatever store caught your eye.

“Look at this!” You smack Yuta’s arm to get his attention. The three of you were currently stationed at the front counter of an antique shop, looking at all the various trinkets that were displayed behind the glass barrier.

In this case, you were focused in on a simple silver ring. The obviously well-loved wedding band sat in a velvet box, practically begging for attention. You couldn’t help but stare at it.

Small engravings ran through the material, creating intricate designs across the entire surface. A truly beautiful piece of jewelry. It almost drew you in, in some way. Like a magnet.

“I’m almost scared to ask how much that is.” Yuta chuckled.

“It can’t be as bad as you think.” You smile. “How much is this ring?” You ask the old lady behind the counter, pointing at the silver ring.

“That one? It’s 50 dollars. But for a young one like yourself, I’ll let you have it for 40.” She smiled.

As much as you appreciated the kindness, you politely declined. Not because you felt bad, but because you simply couldn’t afford it. It was times like this when you really wished you had a job.

“I can pay for it.” Yuta offered.

“No way! I’d actually feel bad if you payed for this. 40 bucks is a lot even for you!” You immediately shut him down.

It’s true, 40 dollars is a lot for broke high school students, even if they have jobs. You couldn’t allow Yuta to spend that kind of money on you.

“You sure? You’ve been eyeing that ring for a solid 15 minutes while we looked around the store.”

“Positive.” You gave the ring one more glance before forcing yourself to leave the store. “Let’s go. Any more staring and I’ll regret not having enough money.”

“Alright, I just want to look at some of those old journals before we go, just wait outside for me.” Yuta shooed you away.

You roll your eyes with a smile, turning your attention to Inumaki as the two of you walked out. “I bet he’s gonna take a long time.”

The two of you found a bench to wait for Yuta, sitting down side by side, the two of you sat in silence. It wasn’t long before Inumaki pulled out his phone, swiping to a game and started playing.

“What are you playing?” You lean over and watch the boy tap away on his screen. He angled his phone to you, displaying a familiar game layout. “Oh! You play Genshin?”

The boy gives you a simple not. It was obvious he wasn’t much of a talker, but that didn’t bother you.

“That’s cool. I don’t really play but I really like watching this one streamer play.” You started going on about the game. “If I’m annoying you, just tell me, okay?”

“You’re not bothering me. Keep going.” He mumbled.

It was the first time you ever heard him actually speak to you. His voice was low, lower than Yuta’s at least. A little husky from the lack of use. But soft at the same time.

You couldn’t help but smile. It was like the next step in your already growing friendship. You continued to watch the boy play, leaning on his shoulder as time went on.

Masterlist | Next

fun facts:

— even though she’s all for the chaos, maki does genuinely want yuta to be happy and confess his feelings

— inumaki has his phone always on do not disturb because of the amount of notifications he gets

— the original monster energy drink is yuta’s favourite because he rarely drinks them (you try to get him to try different flavours but he just doesn’t like them)

taglist:

@sur-i-ki @aespaforlifersyall @camilo-uwu @butterflyqueen234 @shinsukeee @tanchosanke @emii4evr @lees-chaotic-brain @you-always-made-me-blush @jayathelostdragon @chilichopsticks @polarbvnny @instantmusico @sad-darksoul @hellyyy06 @rosieandthethorns @zellwa @iluv-ace @h3xi2g0n3 @morgyyyyyyy @bellaabee082

Bold means I for some reason can’t tag you! I don’t know why :[

[slutt4ellie]

Hearts Over Hierarchy

PT4 - Forgiveness Or Farewell

Loser!Ellie x Popular!Reader

masterslist

PART 1 // PART 2 // PART 3

Do opposites really attract?

Summery - Ellie has the least bit of concern of  rekindling what you broke, and on the other hand you and Emily haven’t talked about what happened.

Warnings -> Miscommunication / THIS CHAPTER IS MESSY NGL. / Sexual themes mentions / Cut off sex 🤨 / Reader is PROBLEMATIC / feelings are heavily disregarded / brief mentions of Skater!Ellie / (Lmk if I missed anything else.)

WC: 5.1k

(Not proofread)

You’ve tried again and again to get Ellie to talk to you.

She just won’t, she’s blocked your number, has avoided you through campus, and it almost feels like before you knew Ellie.

She just hardly made an acknowledgment she even fucking existed. And that you hated.

Because now since Ellie’s entered your life, picturing her not in it seemed impossible.

And it’s been only a week since Ellie saw you swapping spit with someone you assured her was just your “friend”.

And you genuinely feel like you’re going crazy.

Because if you can’t last a week without her, you don’t know how you’re going to last any longer. It just fucking sucked.

You wanted everything to just sink into the ground and forget any of this happened.

You especially wanted to forget everything that happened with Emily.

Despite you saying you were going to talk to Emily you haven’t got around to it.

Not because you didn’t want to, but the night after the party she had family stuff she had to do. It was planned before everything between the two of you happened, so it couldn’t be avoided.

At least that’s what she’s been telling you.

You’ve texted her a lot, it feels like a parallel with you and Ellie almost, you guys both haven’t discussed what you are, or what is even happening between you two but again it seems oddly romantic.

And that’s just through texting.

Another thing that you’ve been blocking is what happened the night of the party. The one where you and Emily kissed. The drive home was almost silent. Just you and Emily reminiscing in silence both trying to figure out what the fuck happened.

But what unfolded once you reached inside the comforts and privacy of the sorority was something you could have probably gone without.

Because not only did you and Emily kiss once you reached inside, but it resulted in you waking up in her bed.

So yeah. You fucked up.

You’re whole life seems like it’s been thrown for a curveball and you’re just desperately trying to have it be stable.

You don’t know what you want right now.

Or more so who you want.

Emily’s been there for so long of your life, and do you really want to break that simply because you can’t choose between her or Ellie.

No..

You just can’t wrap your head around why it felt like the kiss between you two was something that had to happen, rather than you wanting it to happen. The same when you guys slept together.

Every time you kissed Ellie you didn’t once feel obligated.

So with that knowledge the answer should be easy?

With one person you feel forced, and compelled, and with the second person it feels almost natural.

Fuck if only it was that easy.

After thinking for a solid 5 seconds you decided to make a split decision, that sulking in bed for any longer then you already had wasn’t going to settle anything.

So you groaned as you lifted your body getting a good glance at your bedroom.

Ellie’s skateboard.

Right! She left it in your car after that night.

All you have to do is give it back? You know where her dorm is.

That can give you two a proper chance of actually talking, no Emily, no one near you two. Just you and Ellie.

All you can hope is that she’ll hear you out. That’s all you need.

So that’s what you did.

You put on some clothes looking a bit overly dressed for a simple return of a skateboard but you wanted to look nice…for yourself..?

Because this really isn’t about Ellie finding you attractive it’s about her forgiving you, maybe even rebuilding a possible friendship.

At least that’s what you hoped.

Because as soon as you got out of your car 10 minutes off campus you see the student dorms.

It’s been a little bit since you’ve been to Ellie’s dorm but you had it memorized. So it really didn’t take long.

Because soon you were faced with her door.

It should be as simple as just knocking, but you’re choked up.

Which is weird because you never usually feel yourself get extremely nervous, while interacting with a girl.

But It’s not really just a girl.

It’s Ellie.

You look at her skateboard and quickly remind as to why you’re actually here.

And with that you knock.

It didn’t take long till you were hearing a trail of footsteps coming from the opposite side of the door.

A voice who’s is not Ellie’s saying “I’ll get it El..”

Fuck- fuck is she with a girl right now?

Now you’re wondering why you even came here because is Ellie hooking up with someone? and your looking fucking desperate on the other end with a stupid skateboard and a shitty apology.

But no. Ellie wasn’t hooking up with someone.

It was just Dina.

Dina was the first to hear about what transpired that night. She knows because Ellie called her immediately after the matter.

She was sobbing and her voice was incoherent.

Just a shit ton of hiccups and desperate attempts to get back air she was losing due to your actions. She was really on the brim of a full blown panic attack but some how she managed to keep that factor under wraps.

Dina pulled up a good 5 minutes after, she wasn’t stupid and knew something happened, but she just didn’t except the site which she pulled up on.

Ellie was sitting on the edge of the sidewalk head deep in her palms fully sobbing.

She hated how she was crying because of you.

It made her feel dumb that you got her in a position that resembled a toddler getting told no.

Either way once she felt a hand on her shoulder and Dina’s voice coming through soft she knew it was over.

Because then more tears were coming through and she stood up with the intent to get into Dina’s car. Try to ignore the awkward question.

Basically just not trying to talk or let the thought of you flow freely through her mind any longer.

“Ellie..?” Dina hugs her softly.

Ellie’s arms wrap out Dina instantly and her head goes deep in her shoulder.

A attempt to hide the fact she was bawling. Which was not thought through, yet did give Ellie comfort.

“What happened.” Dina says pulling back to wipe Ellie’s tears.

Ellie just shakes her head and let’s out a out of breath. “Her..”

There’s only one “her” Dina thought of and it was you.

And yet she didn’t know the story at that moment it’s all she needed to hear that you were cut out of Ellie’s life.

Because not once in their 10+ years of friendship has she ever seen Ellie like that.

Ellie’s had meltdowns, like literally everyone in her life. But even when Cat broke up with Ellie her girlfriend of a year she didn’t have a reaction like this one.

She didn’t completely understand what you could have done to get Ellie in this position but she knows it has to be bad.

“You need to leave.” Dina says, her eyes seem mad and directed to you.

“I just want to talk.? Please.” You beg out desperately.

“Leave.” Dina shakes her head once again.

“I have her skateboard..” You hold out allowing Dina’s gaze to trail off of you and onto the skateboard.

Dina reaches out her palm. A flat surface so you can easily give it to her.

“D-dina can I just talk to her..?” You ask again. Not yet handing the skateboard to her.

Dina’s wants to laugh in your face, because it’s ironic how you ended up kissing someone, yet you’re outside acting like you could cry.

“Are you fucking joking?” Dina says now stepping out of the dorm shutting the door gently trying not to have Ellie assume somethings happening.

“W-what?” You say.

And now Dina does laugh, making you feel like an idiot for even coming.

“You weren’t the fucking one who picked up Ellie after she saw you!-” Dina emphasized on the you by pushing her finger right in the middle of your collarbone. “Fucking kissing Emily or whatever the fuck her name is!”

“I know-I know I fucked up.” You shake your head.

“Is that supposed to offer comfort?” Dina says.

“But it’s not like that?!” You try, but it goes ignored by Dina.

“Are you trying to justify it or some shit?” Dina says.

“W-what no!” You shake your head really fast.

“I’m not! I know what I did- was insanely fucked up! And if I could take it back I would?” You say.

“Well you can’t.” Dina says.

“Stop trying?” She continues.

“Just leave Ellie alone. It’s over and you made that decision..” Dina sighs out.

You look her up and down. Trying to think of anything so Dina won’t walk out just yet.

“..You block me or her?” You spit out nervously. You really don’t know why you’re asking that. It just feels like you should try to talk as much as you can. Maybe Dina will see you actually do care.

“Does it matter?” Dina rubs her hand down her face, a result of being annoyed by you.

“Yeah?” You look up at her.

“Me.” Dina says shaking her head.

“You’re not good for her.” Dina says looking at you.

“I’ve never seen Ellie like that before.” Dina try’s to explain.

She doesn’t like you, or thinks you deserve any sort of explanation, but she thinks you do deserve to realize how much you actually did hurt Ellie.

“As in.?” You questioned.

“It doesn’t matter.” Dina shakes her head slowly going back to Ellie’s dorm door.

“It does!?” You say desperately. About to get another word out.

But both of you gazes are turned at the door when you hear a click signalling it opened.

Ellie has a grey hoodie and baggy jeans on. Her eyes are red.

You know she’s been crying.

Before seeing you in front of Dina’s body she talks. “Dina why are you just fucking out her-“

Ellie gets her voice cut off because she’s looking at you.

Her frown comes back, and her eyes are glossy once again.

You don’t say anything, neither does Dina, and obviously Ellie.

So now the whole hallway is filled with a shit ton of awkward silence..

Dina decides to break it first.

“I was just sending her off.” Dina says turning to look at Ellie.

Ellie hardly responds her gaze pierced on the floor. “Ah..”

“Can we talk?” You say and Dina sighs, she knows Ellie’s going to say yes..

Ever since Ellie sobered up and her anger partially subsided she wanted to reach out to you first.

Dina told her nothing good is going to come from it, and since your number was now blocked on Ellie’s phone she couldn’t really so much.

Dina’s been glued to Ellie’s side so it made it impossible to even see you.

“Yeah.” Ellie immediately responds before looking at Dina.

“I’ll be fine.” She offers a comforting smile.

Dina groans but nods, she knows she can’t fight it. Because Ellie seems to stick to things when her minds focused on it.

So she complied telling Ellie she’ll grab the two of them some food.

And soon you’re in Ellie’s dorm, somewhere where you haven’t been in about 2 weeks.

“S-sorry it’s messy.” Ellie finally pulls down her hood sitting on the edge of her single bed..

“It-it’s fine really..”

Ellie out of nervousness subconsciously start’s fidgeting with her two fingers before spitting out some that feels like fire on her tongue.

“Are you and Emily dating..” Ellie clears her throat as tears again are brewing.

“No.” You say fast shaking you head.

As you feel a singular tear fall down your left cheek you wipe it off. Ellie notices and looks at you.

“I-I don’t even know why I kissed her.” You say.

Ellie doesn’t know what to say. She doesn’t want to forgive you, she just doesn’t really want to see you crying, despite the state you had her in a week ago.

“Okay..” Ellie says.

“I don’t know what you want me to do with that information.” It came out cold, but right now she couldn’t act like she was happy.

“I’m not waiting for you to fucking figure out who you want.” Ellie says having you quickly cut her off.

“It’s not like that?” You shake your head.

“Mhm..” Ellie sighs.

“Did you guys-“ Ellie starts but you cut her off.

“Ellie?..” You don’t want to answer it, because the only thing you could reply with would be the truth. That being yes.

“It’s literally a yes or no question.” Ellie presses.

But when no response comes from you, she got her answer.

“Dina was right- you should just leave.”

“Ellie-“ You sigh out.

“No you need to leave.” She says standing up. Clearly her throat so her voice appears as more full.

“I-I can’t..” You say looking at her also standing up.

“Please just leave.” Ellie looks down now tearing up. Her walls feel like their crumbling all over again. The last thing she wants to do is cry in front of you.

You hesitantly move your hand to her cheek.

Ellie’s eyes close and she leans into your touch.

“Do you like me.” Ellie ask.

“Yes..” You say not hesitating.

“Do you like her.” Ellie ask.

“Ellie she’s my best friend.” You say.

Ellie sighs and pulls back opening her eyes. The lights again were just turned on. “Yeah well she clearly fucking loves you?”

Ellie feels like she’s growing crazy the more she talks to you. It’s like everyone but you sees it.

“Dina’s my best friend and i’ve never wanted to make out with her?! Fuck let alone sleep with her!?” She says.

“You don’t get it Ellie!” You yell.

“Then fucking explaining dude!” Ellie yells back.

“Am I a fucking joke to you?” Ellie ask.

“What..” You say looking at her.

“Am I a FUCKING joke.” Ellie yells right in your face. Something that you’re unfortunately getting used to..

Neither of you willing to admit that yelling about it isn’t going to fix shit.

After a long pause you finally talk.

“Would you be my friend if I hypothetically started dating Emily.” You say it like your tired. And to be fair you are.

Ellie doesn’t respond, she just looks down embarrassed. Her anger fading.

Because no.

She wouldn’t be.

And you know she wouldn’t be. Just by the fact Ellie’s eyes can’t meet yours and her teeth are slotted in her bottom lip are a clear sign she wouldn’t be.

Her mannerisms made that clear.

“Exactly.” You say.

“I doubt Emily would want to be friends either.” You clear your throat.

Ellie looks at you.

She doesn’t know what to do, because now she’s currently feeling multiple emotions. It feels like everything is flowing through her mind and she can’t control it.

That she hates.

Because she doesn’t like feeling anger when she looks at you. It’s shitty.

So she takes a step forward and literally just hugs you.

You instantly wrap your arms around Ellie falling into her embrace which grants you in warmth. It’s been a bit since you’ve guys been physical but it wasn’t off.

I guess something you didn’t anticipate is the light kiss on your forehead which followed. But either way you didn’t mention it. It’s literally only been a week and before everything went down with Emily you and Ellie were obviously often being physically. That including kissing.

So even though she hasn’t kissed you in awhile the kiss to your head wasn’t shocking.

“I would never make you pick.” Ellie sighs pulling back.

“Y-you know that.” Ellie smiles lightly. It’s more to comfort you. Because even though she doesn’t want to make you pick she doesn’t want to face you with someone else.

“I just- I don’t think I could be your friend if you dated her.” She looks down.

“And that’s not even fucking supposed to persuade you. I just- like couldn’t.” Ellie says her arms still wrapped around you.

Yours eyes met and it feels again like you again, have a decision. She moves her hand to your cheek and tucks a strand behind your ear.

Ellie’s eyes glance to your lips and she internally leans in.

You also lean in.

You don’t really know who kissed who. But once your lips met the two of you both started making out hungrily.

There was little pants as Ellie’s lips moved to the side of your lips, meeting your jaw, then neck. She sucks accompanied with a bite which is going to leave a mark. You know that and she does too, that reason being Emily, she’s the only reason why she even felt the need to leave a hickey..

She wanted it to be known.

“Fuck..” Ellie pants out moving the both of you to the bed sliding off her hoodie in the process.

It doesn’t take long till Ellie’s pressed on top of you refusing to break the kiss.

Her hands slip on the hoodie out of pure nervousness but she eventually gets it off.

It leaves her in just her sports bra while she’s desperately trying not to break the kiss between you two.

Your hands hastily find Ellie’s jean button and you don’t waste time to unbutton them..

While her jean button is getting undone her hands go under your shirt squeezing your boobs, again still not breaking the kiss.

It happened fast, because the moment went from making out to your hand inside Ellie’s jeans cuffing Ellie’s pussy.

As you’re rubbing light circles on Ellie’s clit feeling the wetness through her boxers there’s a consecutive number of knocks.

Ellie’s whole face turns red and she starts to pull back from you as your remove you hand from her jeans.

You guys are both just silently looking at each other wondering if there really was a knock. Or if it was your mind playing tri-

There’s another knock and Dina’s voice talks. “Yo- can one of you grab the door my hands are full”

Ellie scrambles and helps you off the bed first before standing up and buckling back up her jeans.

She watches you slowly walk to the door straightening you clothes in the process.

As you walk to her dorm door you see Ellie’s now back in her grey hoodie giving a signal you can open the door.

Even though you can you hesitate having your hand shadow the door handle, hesitating to open it.

But after swallowing a big chunk of air you do. You see Dina’s gaze travel back and forth between you and Ellie.

Based on Ellie’s flushed cheeks, and how she’s purposefully avoiding Dina’s gaze, you don’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure out that’s the fuck was happening.

Or what was going to happen?

“You two were gonna fuck!” Dina accuses putting the food on Ellie’s studying table.

“W-what no!” Ellie shakes her head nervously.

“W-we weren’t!” Ellie talks.

“I was gone for like 13 minutes??” Dina then turns to look directly at you.

“Fuck Ellie you fold so fast?” Dina groans.

“No I don’t??” Ellie says embarrassed walking towards Dina falling right beside you.

“Yeah sure you don’t?” Dina looks back at Ellie rolling her eyes.

“So you two didn’t kiss?” Dina questions tilting her head.

Ellie just groans and grabs your hand out of instinct, again like always she doesn’t really think. She just does it.

“You’re so weird?.” Ellie sighs.

Dina nods and rolls her eyes. “You two literally were about to fuck after I was gone for like 5 minutes, but you know! i’m weird..” Dina mutters.

“We weren’t!” Ellie says putting her head in her free hand.

Emily was coming back to the sorority today. And you were nervous.

And if you’re being honest with yourself that was an understatement, you didn’t know what the fuck to do.

It was late and you’ve been staring at your ceiling for what feels like a few hours.

After you and Ellie kissed, you decided to stay the night. Where you guys did end up sleeping together..

And the rest of that night was filled with kissing, cuddling, staying in each others arms all night, and a few hickeys which you now needed to cover.

But then again after that moment with Ellie it became ultimately clear that with Ellie it wasn’t forced..

And with Emily it was.

You hated yourself for feeling that way and there’s a part of you that wishes maybe those feelings could be reciprocated.

Because then everything would be easy.

But no.

You’ve only ever seen Emily as a friend.

And that’s something you had to face.

So when you hear the door open and the other girls greeting Emily you knew she was back.

And you knew you had to talk to her,

As much as you wanted to run away.

You had to..You had to face an awkward ass conversation.

So reluctantly that’s what you did, you turned over getting off your bed, putting on some makeup to cover the few hickeys, and sucked up any nervous feelings, making your way down the stairs.

It didn’t take long till your eyes meeting blue ones.

That’s when the guilt struck. Because you haven’t told Emily what the fuck happened while she was gone, and it’s dawning that you again led another person on. It was Ellie first and now her.

Emily smiles and walks to the end of the stairs where you were coming down.

“Hey!” Emily says hugging you.

“Hi..!” You’re arms wrapped around Emily as she hug you, the thing was you couldn’t hide that your voice was off. Having Emily pick up on it.

Like she always done.

“What’s up.?” Emily uses one hand to cuff your cheek.

“Can we talk.” You clear your throat.

Emily nods and smiles trying to cover her nervousness.

She didn’t understand what could have happened to have you want to talk to her immediately?

“Yeah..course..!” Emily frowns then covers it quickly plastering on an obvious fake smile.

Which you ignored.

With that you and Emily trail to your bedroom.

Once the door is closed Emily sits on your bed and you’re nervously looking down on her.

“W-what’s up?” Emily says.

You look at her for a few seconds. You don’t know how to say it? How to tell her that just a few days after you left you and Ellie kissed? Then slept together.

“I-Em i’m so sorry..” You tear up.

“What..?” Emily frowns again.

Emily stands up and holds your cheeks.

She’s obviously still oblivious, she’s not sure what could have happened to have to freak out so fast?

“What happened..” Emily kisses your nose.

You close your eyes and finally spit out the words that were longing on your tongue..

“Emily me and Ellie we-“

Emily doesn’t even let you finish you sentence before she pulls back.

“Emily..” You reach out and she looks at her.

“I’m not doing this..anymore.” Emily shakes her head tearing up.

You look at her. “Emily you know I love you so much” You nod.

“I just-“ You try to talk.

“You love Ellie..don’t you?” Emily shakes her head running her hand down her face.

“I-I don’t kn-“ You can’t spit it out.

“You guys deserve each other. Don’t worry. You really do.” Emily puts on a fake smile before clearing her throat.

“I’m not gonna fucking beg for your love anymore.” Emily says.

“Emily-“ You try but she just shakes her head.

“It’s fine really.” Emily nods.

“You’ve never begging for my love?” You say again stepping forward which just leads her to step back once again.

“I do love you- you’re my best friend.” You wipes you own tears.

“Exactly!- you don’t fucking..you don’t see me like that. So i’m done” Emily says her voice choking up in the middle.

And it’s true, she was done. She was done.

So now you’re just alone with your thoughts, finally letting it dawn on you what the fuck has happened..

You lost Emily.

The girl who you’ve known for years, left your room on the brink of tears and now it’s starting to feel like you just permanently closed a chapter.

Now no longer being able to open it.

You don’t know what to do. And to be honest that really scares you.

You go back and forth between a decision for a few seconds..

You finally grab your phone out of your pocket, shaky hands and nervousness coursing through your body.

You hesitate to click Ellie’s contact but you do.

Right now you only have one person and that’s her.

Emily was a person you could always go to. whether it be serious or stupid she was always there.

But this time it was about her? And you didn’t know how to handle it without any reassurance.

Leaving Ellie as the next option.

It rang for a few seconds before Ellie’s voice came through. She sounds like she’s been sleeping since you notice a rasp and tired tone.

“Hi?” Ellie says yawning.

“Hi.” Your tone is shaking and you sound like your about to cry. Ellie notices that.

“What’s up?” You can already hear sounds of Ellie standing up probably deciding whether or not you need help or something.

“Where you at?” Ellie questions.

“I’m okay- just wanted to talk?” You don’t want her to go out of her way to come all the way to the  sorority.

Ellie didn’t have a car and it was late. You didn’t want her outside.

“Yeah we can talk when I get there? You just home.?” Ellie ask as you hear shuffles only assuming she was putting on her shoes.

“Ellie-“ You sigh choking back a shit ton of tears.

Even though you didn’t explicitly tell Ellie that you’re home she assumed. She could hear a few girls in the background talking so she just took that as a sign.

Ellie talks again. Opening her dorm room door. “It’s okay i’ll be over in like 10 minutes bab-“

Ellie hung up before she could even finish her sentence and now you’re again left with your thoughts.

And that’s when you finally come to the conclusion.

You’re 100% the problem.

You’ve taken Emily and Ellie’s feelings for granted and it’s showing.

You lost Emily and you’re not exactly sure why Ellie sticks around. It doesn’t feel fair to hold both of them by a thread and it was proven when Emily’s broke.

Now it was only time till Ellie’s did.

At least that’s what you were starting to believe.

“Baby..” Ellie sighs leaning into hug you. Putting her skateboard to the side.

You can only respond by hugging her back tears now starting to fall.

“What happened?” Ellie ask pulling back and wiping your tears accompanied with light kisses to the nose.

“Emily..you don’t have to worry about her anymore-“ You clear your and rub your eyes.

“I don’t think we’re friends anymore.” You say trying to plaster a fake smile. Causing Ellie to frown.

Ellie could honestly care less if Emily left, it’s the state that she sees your left in which hurts.

Your hands are shaking when they wrap around her, tears are flowing, and the confident tone she can distinct you for, is gone?

It feels like you’re leaving her, pushing back.

“I’m so sorry-“ Ellie try’s but you wave your hand dismissively.

“No-it’s fine. Really.” You say.

“Why’d she leave.” Ellie ask.

“I told her we-“ You start.

Ellie cuts you off with yet another hug. You can feel her shake her head on your shoulder.

She doesn’t need an explanation. She can use context clues to understand why Emily decided to leave.

But that’s when you finally spit it out.

What’s been going through your mind.

“I can’t do this Ellie.”

You look straight at her.

“What do you mean you can’t do this..?” Ellie now ask.

“You need someone who is good for you. Dina said it and she was right..i’m not good for you?..” You say.

“You can’t be serious.” Ellie looks straight at you.

“What-?” You breathlessly sigh.

“I’m not doing this with you again?” Ellie shakes her head.

And when she said that, you assumed she’d leave. Ending two relationships you had in just one night.

Even though on the contrary it seemed like this would be the worst thing to ever happen for you it gave comfort.

Because with no one around you can’t hurt anyone else…hypothetically at least..?

But Ellie doesn’t leave she just keeps going, and now it feels like her mouth and thoughts might just not stop.

Like she can’t control it.

“Why-why can’t you just understand I don’t fucking want anyone else?” Ellie’s at this point was begging.

Begging for you to understand.

“I’ll leave you alone- if you really do want me too.” Ellie says.

“But since we kissed it’s like the only thing I think about.” She needs you to get that she doesn’t want someone else.

She just wants you.

It’s the reason she’s been going through thick and thin for you. She just needs you to understand.

“I love you..?” It sounded more like a question then a statement.

Because Ellie hesitated to say it even though she meant it.

Plus it being the first time Ellie had ever said that to you made the whole situation all that more intense.

Because you don’t know if you can mentally accept the fact you just might love her back.

So you just look at her.

And now Ellie’s embarrassed.

Because never would she ever want you to feel forced to say it? I guess that’s why it hurt when you didn’t say it back.

Because if you’re not forced and you seemed to have no interest in saying it. You really didn’t love her the way she loved you. That hurt?

Because it put into reality you and Ellie truly weren’t on the same page.

That maybe she was imagining it-

Ellie probably didn’t notice that you conflicted gaze turned more into a determined one as she spaced out.

Because..

Your lips are suddenly on Ellie’s.

Ellie can only respond by pushing her lips hardly back on yours holding you cheeks not leaving room for her to pull back.

And with that, you finally something that’s been longing.

“I love you too.” You say into her mouth.

That’s all Ellie needed to hear to realize it wasn’t some fling.

You loved her.

And she wasn’t letting that go.

A/N -> I KNOW THIS IS BAD.

I DONT WANNA TALK ABT IT.

I literally had zero fucking clue how to end this shit so everything happens extremely fast.

(mainly because I was making the plot as I got to it! 🌚)

BUT! I was gonna do a sad ending where the reader ends up alone so be happy I didn’t stick with that. 🙂

Honestly I was just trying to close off this story so I can put my main focus on Fated Hearts Start With Fire since I have SOO much planned with that 🙏

But I hope you guys enjoyed reading because despite it being ass it is the last one for this series.

(Like and reblogs are always appreciated!)

Taglist : @bready101 @onlinelesbo @amberputh @seraphicsentences @a-little-bit-of-everybody @zoehxnji @graviewaviee @i-feel-violated @elliesexual @macaroni676 @liasxeatt @m4rshm3ll0

[isa-ghost]

halloooo :3 saw your post on the Greater RP!Phil Polycule and absolutely adored it. all are absolutely based takes.

speaking of, do you have any tr!phil and tr!sneeg headcanons? i yearn for this bastard woodcutter divorcee (/p) and his ex husband (again /p) who spent the last week in a box full of potion fumes and turtles driving himself insane for the sake of progress lmao

SFGAFGDHF see they're such a new thing still and I was so hellbent until their divorce arc that they were just close friends and nothing more that I'm still figuring out wtf their deal is.

It's esp hard to build them beyond their basic interaction vibes bc oMalewife is so wildly different and special. And previously our only proper rpMalewife content.

But trMalewife absolutely have some kinda on/off fuckass obsession with each other. Way more so trSneeg towards trPhil than the reverse, but it's anything but one-sided, even if it's a 99/1 split.

All of rpPhil's relationships are healthy, at least at their cores (as of now), but these two you could absolutely joke are toxic yaoi. It's probably something they joke about themselves. It's basically an unspoken bit.

The thing abt trMalewife duo (or any rpMalewife probably, bc this is just how the CCs are) is that their relationship is hugely built on mutual sarcasm, deadpan bits, and dramatized bickering.

There's no genuine bitterness between them, or we'd be seeing Much different tones in their reactions. So while all this drama and deadpan nonsense may look "toxic," they're actually mildly dysfunctional at best. Granted, this is all until we get More content to go off of.

I DO have one solid headcanon though. Their marriage was some Vegas wedding shit. Very spontaneous, possibly drunk when they did it, probably very in their feels about how much they /p love each other. Which is why on our end this divorce is just as unserious and sudden as the concept of them being married to begin with.

"YALL WERE MARRIED??" type beat. Like nobody fuckin knew they were but now they're hearing they're divorced. Everyone's like ??? I missed a fucking chapter, What.

[anon-sect]

I’d do anything to get close to my gym crush’s feet, could you give me a little help?

Picture source: @paketemusculomorbo

Quinton worked out nearly every day at his favorite gym, and he kept noticing this one guy, always looking his direction but never bothering to come greet him. This attention went on for almost two months straight. He thought about going to another gym, but the guy might follow him there. Since the guy was to shy to come say hi, he would break the ice himself.

"What's up?" Quinton went over and spoke. The guy was sort of silent for a few seconds, probably because of the shock that he came over and spoke with him.

Greg was caught by surprise. "Oh, hi." He didn't know what else to say for a brief moment.

"Listen, I have been noticing you looking my way for a while. I thought I would end your nervousness. The name is Quinton, and yours." He saw that the guy was getting less uneased by now.

"Oh, I am Greg. Nice to meet you." He spoke back, seeing that his gym crush was actually kind of nice.

"Nice to meet you as well, Greg. Well, I will get back to my workout session, I just wanted to say hi." Quinton spoke as he went back to the machine he was previously at. He then noticed the rubber in his favorite shoes came loss. This was no good. Sadly, he didnt' have another pair with him. He went back over to Greg.

"Hey, could you help me with something, buddy?" Quinton asked. He saw Greg's face light up like a supernove when he asked that question.

Sure, anything." Greg quickly answered without even knowing what the request was. He followed him back to the locker room, which was surprisingly empty. He saw Quinton smiling at that. He saw him pull out his phone. With a quick snap of the camera, his whole reality changed. He found himself completely immobile with a limited view. HIs body was split in two, and each half had a solid form.

Quinton picked up the brand new shoes. They looked great. He took off his old shoes and threw them in the trash. "Sorry about this. I know we just officially met, but my old shoes are just too ruined for me to continue to work out. I needed you to be my shoes for now. I really do appreciate this." He put the shoes on his feet and went back out to finish his session. The new shoes felt way better than his old favorite pair. He could easily work out without his feet hurting now.

Greg didn't know if he was dreaming or if it was reality. He was literally being worn on his gym crush feet. The socks were already sweaty and smelled slightly. It was also painful with each step under his feet. Being shoes was quite a painful experience, not to mention sweaty and stinky. Yet, he was still loving every moment of it. He really didn't mind his gym crush using him as his shoes.

Quinton finished his nearly two hour workout. He snapped a quick picture of himself with his new shoes. He loved how they looked on his feet. He decided he would keep them. He hoped the guy didn't mind being his sneakers for a long time.

Quinton went back to the lockroom, grabbed his bag, and went to his car. Once back at his car, he took one sneaker off. "My old pair seem like they were too far gone, but I have found a new replacement for my favorite sneakers. It's you. I don't know if this is something you would want, or if you dispise me for wearing you." He paused as he thought about it. "Honestly, you don't have any choice in your life anymore. You are just my new favorite shoes now. Don't worry, I will take good care of you for sure. My last pair lasted me for years, you wil be mine forever." He put the shoe back on his foot and drove back home to take a shower.

Greg was so happy to hear what came of his fate. Quinton could wear him forever for all he cared. There was no greater pleasure than being worn by him on his feet. He wished he could express his gratitude for what he did to him, but at least he knew that he would be with his gym crush forever. That was all that mattered.

[pushovermediacritic]

The Land Before Time Liveblog 3

The Land Before Time III: The Time of the Great Giving

Last Time: The Gang accidentally broke the border wall while crossing it and kidnapped a foreign child, then bombarded him with racist microaggressions. When the kid's parents crossed the border to rescue him, The Gang and their parents beat them up. In the end, they re-affirmed that a closed-border policy is for the best and repaired the wall.

Also, Pinky and the Brain were there.

The Universal Logo is still not Pangaea.

Narrator: "A long time ago, at least 35 hundred million years ago, the earliest form of life made its first appearance on Earth."

... I think that checks out? I think "35 hundred million" is 3.5 billion? That lines up with what Wikipedia says for the estimated origin of life (at least 3.5B, the oldest trace of life is from 3.7B). I'm a little surprised this animated kid's movie from 1995 got that right. Kudos.

The narrator then goes over evolution and eventually reaches the first creature to walk on land.

No, get back in the water! You don't know what you're doing! This decision will eventually lead to HUMANS!

But not yet, first dinosaurs.

Narrator: "For most of the Earth's dinosaurs, life was filled with danger! But for the fortunate leaf-eating dinosaurs of the Great Valley, life was peaceful, and food plentiful."

Kinda splitting the difference between movie 1 and movie 2 here. In 1, they went to the Great Valley because there was a famine, and in 2, they make a big deal out of how safe it is. Here the narrator lists both qualities.

As an aside, it's interesting that, 3 movies in, we're still getting long, dramatic intro sequences to introduce the very concept of dinosaurs. I wonder if/when that will stop.

Narrator: "The Great Valley was the perfect place for children like Littlefoot the Longneck, Cera the Threehorn, Ducky the Swimmer, Petrie the Flier, and Spike the Spiketail to grow and learn and play."

The Gang are playing by rolling and chasing a head-sized rock like it's a ball.

You know, I would say that's probably not a good idea, rocks are solid and much heavier and harder than balls, but we know these kids are ridiculously strong by now, they'll be fine.

As if to prove my point, Littlefoot headbutts the rock several feet into the air, then when it lands, Petrie kicks it and he just bounces off without the rock moving whatsoever. It's still a goddamn rock. Dinosaurs are just Built Different.

Spike then dives for the rock, lands on it, and Fucking Destroys It.

You know, if I did that with a rock the size of my head, I'd probably shatter my ribcage. But dinosaurs are Built Different.

Three movies in, and I can't believe that I'm still power-scaling in Land Before Time.

Cera finds another rock and starts knocking it around. She passes it to Littlefoot, who juggles it with headbutts until he drops it and...

Hmm.

While these characters are new to the audience, they aren't strangers to The Gang, Littlefoot asks Hyp if he can have their rock back, please.

Hyp: "Your rock? Who said it was your rock?!"

Goon 1: "Yeah, who said it was your rock, huh? Who said, who said?!"

(they both glance at Goon 2)

Goon 2: "-oh, uh, yeah!"

Hyp is a Hypsilophodon, Goon 1 is a Nodosaurus, and Goon 2 is a Muttaburasaurus.

Littlefoot admits that no-one said that, and then Cera demands they give it back. Hyp refuses on the grounds that she didn't say please, and Cera retorts that she knows she didn't (Littlefoot did say "please" earlier, so obviously he doesn't really care). Hyp and Cera glare off and growl at each other until Littlefoot steps in and suggests they all play together.

Hyp asks his goons if they want to play with some babies, and Petrie takes great offense to being called a baby. Hyp pokes Petrie and they all laugh at him, causing Cera to snap and charge Hyp, but he steps out of the way before egging her on.

And then the Earth starts shaking and meteors start falling.

Man, shit always be happening around here. Can't even confront some bullies without the apocalypse.

The bullies run away and then a meteor lands on the other side of the Great Wall, causing a rockslide that the kids barely escape, running to their guardians.

Littlefoot makes it back to his grandparents, then a tree falls and he escapes by hiding under some roots. Littlefoot wants to go find the falling rock that landed in the Mysterious Beyond, but his grandma tells him no. Littlefoot and his grandpa admire the beautiful aurora created by the meteors.

Grandpa notes how mysterious it is, and I agree. It is mysterious, because that's not how auroras work! Meteors can't cause auroras!

The next day, everyone is gathered in the pond at the base of the Thundering Falls, drinking and eating water plants.

When suddenly, the Thundering Falls stop flowing.

Littlefoot asks his grandparents what's up and grandpa says he doesn't know, before grandma shoos him off to play with the other kids so the grown-ups can discuss the waterfall problem. Littlefoot's grandparents are starting to get some distinct characterization. Grandpa is more fun while grandma is more serious.

Littlefoot finds the other kids playing a hiding game. Cera is hiding and the other kids are looking for her. Littlefoot tries to tell them about the Thundering Falls, but they keep cutting him off. Cera jumps out from under a pile of big leaves and scares them, then they pick Littlefoot to hide next, but he keeps waffling, so Spike goes to hide. He sticks his head in a bush, leaving the rest of him exposed. We've actually seen this behavior multiple times in both of the previous films, Spike hiding just by sticking his head in the dirt or a bush, leaving the rest of him wide open.

Littlefoot finally blurts it out that the Thundering Falls are dried up, and they should go see.

Hyp: "Why don't you hatchlings go run and see?"

Goon 1: "Yeah, run and see, run and see!"

(Hyp glares at Goon 2)

Goon 2: "Oh! ...duuh, yeah!"

Cera's ready to throw down, and blows a raspberry. The Goons blow raspberries in return, but Hyp tells them to knock it off. Littlefoot asks why Hyp is always trying to pick a fight, and Goon 2 also wonders why. Hyp responds by singing song 1 of this movie, When You're Big.

This song is... okay. It's not bad. It's got a decent flow and wordplay, kind of a Broadway-style song. As far as villain songs go, it's a lot better than "Eggs". Hyp sings about how when you're big (a teenager), you have a lot more freedom to do whatever you want, including be gross, loud, annoying, fight, and pick on little kids. Also in the song, he calls Ducky a "Duckfoot". So, add that to the list, alongside "Swimmer" and "Bigface".

After the song, Littlefoot immediately and brutally undermines it by pointing out that Hyp isn't going to be very big at all as a grown-up. Cera and Ducky agree, bringing up that when they grow up, they're gonna be much bigger than Hyp.

It's hard to get a sense of scale for these movies, but it's important to keep in mind that Littlefoot is like 2 feet tall, max. Ducky and Petrie are only a few inches. The average size for an adult Hypsilophodon is only 6 feet, and that's length, from head to tail.

Hyp: "Oh yeah? Well, I'm gonna see to it that you never grow up!"

Goon 2: "Uh, yeah!"

Goon 1: "Never grow up, never!"

Goon 2: "Uh, how're you gonna do that, Hyp?"

Hyp: "Sheesh, you're dumb. Let me lay it out for ya, first we chase 'em, second we catch 'em, third we hurt 'em. See?"

Yeah, Hyp clearly doesn't know WHAT he's talking about. He's talking about killing these kids, but he doesn't really have a concept of what that even means. Like just beating them up is gonna prevent them from growing. He's all talk. Meanwhile, these kids worked together to kill a full-grown Sharptooth at the end of the first movie.

Anyway, while Hyp is blustering, The Gang just sneak away. The bullies storm off, and they're so stupid they didn't even notice Spike, still in his terrible hiding spot.

Later, the adults are meeting and the Valley is starting to dry up. Littlefoot's grandpa establishes they need to ration out what little water they have remaining, not using it unwisely. Cera's dad has some thoughts.

Cera's Dad: "Huh! Threehorns never use water unwisely, but your herds do!"

Clubtail: "Our herds? What makes you think our herds would do such a thing?!"

Cera's Dad: "You drink greedily with no concern for others!"

Spiketail: "Can you believe he's saying that?!"

Man, you can always count on Cera's dad to be racist as fuck. He single-handedly turns this civil meeting into a big racist argument, with accusations being thrown around left and right by everyone. Cera's dad is a load-bearing pillar for the racism theme of this franchise.

Smash cut to The Gang all playing and frolicking in a pond, splashing water everywhere. The kids are "playing bullies", pretending to be Hyp to make fun of him. Then the bullies actually show up, standing high up on a rock. Hyp claims this is their watering hole, then he pushes Goon 1 off the rock and he falls on top of Littlefoot, splashing water right into Cera's dad's face (apparently, the adults weren't very far away).

The bullies run away and Cera's dad accuses Littlefoot of wasting precious water.

Littlefoot's Grandpa: "Our children don't understand the water problem. The Great Valley has always given them everything they need!"

Okay, I kinda ignored this last movie, but that implication was there, too. The Gang didn't grow up in the Great Valley, they only recently came here. You know, in the first movie. Both of the sequels have acted like The Gang don't know what it's like outside of the Great Valley, and that's just simply wrong. You can't just retcon the first movie out of existence. Especially since later movies will make reference to it.

The Gang start talking about the water problem and Littlefoot does this hilarious shrug that doesn't work AT ALL.

He doesn't even do it quickly, it's a slow, deliberate, and impossible movement. You can't just have quadruped characters do hand gestures without thinking through the logistics first, otherwise you get dumb shit like this.

Littlefoot's Grandpa: "We need to teach our children how to use the remaining water wisely."

Cera's Dad: "Speak for yourself, Longneck! My Cera would never waste! Your Littlefoot is a bad influence!"

Littlefoot's Grandpa: "That's not true!"

The kids don't even know what the word "influence" means. Cera's dad tells Cera to come, and that she's not allowed to play with "the little Longneck anymore". Grandpa tries to diffuse the situation, and Cera tries to resist, but Cera's dad insists and yells at her that he knows what's best. Sniffling, Cera goes with her dad.

This is something that's been bubbling under the surface for a while. Cera's dad said she shouldn't play with Longnecks in the first movie and the second, too. He was just looking for an excuse to really put his foot down on this issue, and this was the perfect one. This is Cera's dad at his worst. The other kids go home with their parents, too, but just because it's getting late.

Littlefoot's grandpa says that Cera's dad is just confused and scared. At night, Cera and her dad argue.

Cera: "I don't understand, daddy!"

Dad: "You need friends who know how to behave, especially in times like this."

Cera: "Littlefoot is my friend! He'll always be my friend!"

Dad: "Cera, I'm your father. I want what's best for you!"

Cera: "No you don't! You just don't want me to have any fun!"

(Cera runs away into some reeds)

Dad: "Cera, please... I'm just trying to- oh, as a parent I... wouough!"

That's Dad letting out an exasperated groan. This conversation really doesn't touch on the deeper issues at play here, it's really surface-level. I like that he can't even find something to say at the end, but aside from that, this argument is disappointing.

Next morning, grandma and grandpa wake up Littlefoot early to drink morning dew from leaves, since they need to conserve water and get fluids from other sources. Littlefoot accidentally breaks the dew-covered Tree Star, since the leaf itself is dried out and fragile. Grandma mentions there will be an increased fire risk in the coming days, and Littlefoot should remember the escape paths.

We then see a montage of the Great Valley slowly drying up. Fish in a small pool having to flop over dry land to get to a creek.

A triceratops herd walking alongside a riverbank with several feet of wall before the waterline. A lizard knocks down a rock from a cave wall and it bounces on multiple other rocks before falling in the small pool at the bottom.

Littlefoot and his grandparents are looking for food, and they find some trees, but most of the leaves are brown and crusty. There's one tree with a few sparse green leaves, and Grandpa pulls down a branch of them for Littlefoot to eat. This is really giving me flashbacks to the first movie. There, the famine wasn't caused by a lack of water, but it was a famine nonetheless. Even though their turn for water isn't until later, Grandpa gives Littlefoot the go-ahead to go drink, since he's a kid. Cera's dad is at the watering hole, and he argues against it. Then Cera's dad sings song 2 of the movie, Standing Tough.

It's kind of a dad rock man anthem. It's also... okay. Not bad. It's all about how when times get tough, you gotta get tough. You have to step up and be better, stronger, smarter, tougher, etc. He does mention something interesting, which is that his own father told him "stand and fight, don't run away". Definitely a lesson in how parents are molded by their own parents.

He also cites his daughter as the reason he's being harsh about this, but like, he's got a lot of daughters. Or should. Cera's mentioned her sisters a few times in the last two movies. But sometime between then and now, she's become an only child. Whether due to retcon or something more tragic, it's an odd decision, since the last movie's end credits showed her and Ducky getting more baby siblings.

After the song, Cera whisper-calls Littlefoot over and they complain about the grown-ups acting like babies. Littlefoot hatches a plan.

Littlefoot: "Water! If we find some, the grown-ups will stop being mad!"

Cera: "Maybe! Except for my dad, he aaaalways mad."

Littlefoot: "Yeah, he is kinda grumpy. But I'm sure it's just because he's so worried about the water."

Oof.

The kids go off to gather the rest of The Gang, while the adults keep arguing. Cera's dad says "no" to the very idea of compromise. Meanwhile, the animators have compromised his very body by forgetting to draw in his fourth leg:

At night, the kids gather, but Spike is a heavy sleeper and snores. He doesn't wake up until Petrie mentions the plan is to find water, that gets him up. Then the kids run off, screaming into the night in frustration at their guardians being mad all the time nowadays. I'm surprised no-one woke up. The kids decide to try and sniff out the water.

Not sure that'll work, but hey, I don't have a dinosaur nose. Human noses are some of the worst among mammals, so I can't exactly say I'm an expert on sniffing.

The next day, Cera's dad has taken it upon himself to full-on police the river, charging at and chasing away anyone who tries to drink out-of-turn. I changed my mind, this is Cera's dad at his worst. The Gang are ready to give up their search when Petrie sniffs out a pond.

The kids enjoy playing and drinking, but then the bullies confront them and demand they let them have the water and not tell anyone else about it. They run to tell the grown-ups, but Cera wants to try fighting them, and they convince her to just run. Then the bullies get the negative attention of a purple wasp, which drives them off (did wasps exist at this time period?).

The Gang gets a little lost while running and they find a cave leading through the Great Wall into the Mysterious Beyond, where they find a GIGANTIC lake of water being blocked off by a landslide.

I dunno if opening that dam is the best idea, the Great Valley might go from a drought to a flood. The kids seem to think that's a good idea, though, and decide to head back to tell everyone.

However, you see that lightning at the end of the GIF? Remember what Grandma said about an increased fire risk?

Lightning strikes a tree and makes a huge wildfire, which rips through the Great Valley's dried up forest.

Meanwhile with the adults, Cera's dad is telling Ducky's mom to stop drinking, she's had enough (but she's a Swimmer, she might need more). Littlefoot's grandparents decide he's gotten too bossy, but then the kids run up and warn them about the fire. Apparently the area it started as is Two Boulder Pass. Cera's dad insists that he's the boss and he will lead everyone on his path to safety from the fire... which Littlefoot's grandpa points out is downwind of the fire, right where it will spread. Guess Cera got her bad direction-skills we saw in the first movie from her dad. He insists that he's right and that Cera go with him, and she complies.

Littlefoot's grandpa realizes Cera's dad is being stupid and endangering himself and his daughter, and he decides to follow him, while Littlefoot's grandma leads everyone else away from the fire upwind of it.

Cera's dad's route immediately proves to be a terrible decision, as the fire quickly catches up and both Threehorns are running for their lives from the blaze. They come to a ravine and Cera tries jumping it. She almost makes it, but the edge she lands on crumbles and she falls in. Her dad jumps in after her and now they're both running down the ravine away from the spreading fire.

Meanwhile with Littlefoot's grandma's group, she's having a hard time with the thick smoke because of how high up her head is. She decides Littlefoot has to lead the group because he's much smaller and closer to the ground, where the smoke is thinner. The adults are having a hard time seeing through the smoke, so Littlefoot yells for them to follow his voice.

Cera and her dad get completely surrounded on all sides by fire, but Littlefoot's grandpa uses the Longneck trick from movie 2 to topple a tree for them to cross.

The two groups reunite on a cliff on the side of the Great Wall, safe and sound. Good thing Littlefoot remembered the fire exits.

Littlefoot's grandma: "We are all very lucky."

Cera's dad: "Lucky?! How can you say we are lucky when our Valley burns?! We are without water and now we are without a home! All is lost..."

Littlefoot's grandma: "All is not lost, my friend. You still have Cera, and you are still here, able to care for her."

Cera's dad: *sigh* "Oh, you are right. Thank you, Longneck."

This is a BIG moment of growth from Cera's dad. Not only did his boneheaded stubbornness almost get himself and his daughter killed, but he was rescued by a Longneck and then consoled by one when he fell into despair afterward. And then he specifically thanked her using her species name in gratitude.

However, the other adults are inclined to agree with the Threehorn that all is lost, until Littlefoot remembers that they found the water, it's backed up from the Flying Rock that landed in the Mysterious Beyond.

The other adults are hesitant to go into the Mysterious Beyond because of the danger, but Cera's dad points out that the Valley is dangerous now, too, and they have to go. Littlefoot's grandpa mentions that that much water will attract Sharpteeth. Cera's dad has a plan, but no-one is confident in his plans anymore, and everyone starts arguing over it.

Meanwhile, the bullies are higher up, looking down on the adults. Hyp wants to get to the water first, but his goons are... less than enthusiastic about potential Sharptooth encounters. Hyp insists he's not afraid of anything, even Sharpteeth, and decides to prove it by going, then calls his goons babies to motivate them to join him (because he doesn't actually want to be alone).

Littlefoot sees them and decides The Gang needs to go and convince them not to do anything stupid and reckless. The rest of The Gang doesn't think they should care until he sings song number 3, Kids Like Us.

And, uh. The official Youtube version of this includes the earlier scene with the bullies. For context, I guess.

Anyway, Kids Like Us is nice. I think it's the best song so far in this film. Littlefoot is very empathetic, and he really gets to the heart of this movie's core theme regarding fear and pride motivating bullying. It's not great, but it's good.

Hyp and his goons walk through the Mysterious Beyond, and finally we get a name for one of them: Goon 2, the Muttaburasaurus, is named "Mutt". Going by that pattern, I'm guessing Goon 1's name is Nodo. They cross over a bubbling bog, clearly lost, and Mutt and Hyp both almost fall in multiple times (in the business, they call this technique "5-second foreshadowing"). They find a pond of water and Hyp eagerly jumps in to drink some water.

But whoops, it's actually a tar pit and Hyp is trapped and sinking.

By the way, real tar pits can look deceptively like ponds. That's why they were so dangerous to real-life dinosaurs.

Mutt and Goon 1 aren't sure what to do, and The Gang hears Hyp's cries of help and come running. Littlefoot name drops this as a "tar pit", which is interesting that the writers didn't come up with some other name for it. Littlefoot tells Hyp to stop moving and he completely freezes still, before a bee lands on his nose. Then Petrie lands on his nose and tries to pull him out by his nostril, attached to a chain of the other kids (they use this technique a lot, but it's kinda hit-or-miss in effectiveness).

Petrie loses his grip when Hyp complains and Hyp briefly sinks beneath the surface, but Petrie fuckin' heroes up and dives into the tar pit to save him. Ducky grabs Petrie under the tar and pulls him up while Petrie successfully pulls Hyp out by his tooth (I guess it's a better handle than his nostril).

After getting out, Hyp insists that he had it under control and never needed any help (despite literally yelling "Help, help"). Petrie and Ducky in particular are mad at him brushing off their efforts, but he doubles down. That is, until he sees the adult crowd walking by. Specifically his dad. Hyp's IMMEDIATE first reaction to seeing his father is to run away, hide behind The Gang, cover his face, and shiver uncontrollably.

Well, damn. That says it all, doesn't it? Littlefoot's grandpa scolds him for exploring in a dangerous place like this, and Littlefoot retorts that they were trying to keep Hyp and his friends from getting hurt. This makes Hyp's father notice Hyp hiding behind them, and he immediately starts yelling.

Before we get into this scene, I like how The Gang earlier were right, Hyp won't be very large as a grown-up. Hyp's father is less than twice his size.

Hyp's father: *grab's Hyp's tail* "Hyp! Here we are, chasing after you when we should be finding a way to free the water! I thought I told you to stay where it was safe! Don't look at me that way, I'm your father and I know what's best for you!"

Cera's father: "... yelling is no way to teach your child what is right, or to show that you care."

Hyp's father: "How would you know?!"

Cera's father: "I know because- because I have a daughter. And I yell at her. Too much. Especially when I'm worried for her safety."

Cera: "You don't have to worry about me, daddy."

Cera's father: "If you always react with anger, that's all your son will know. And... that's all he'll be able to express to others."

Hyp looks very sheepish, and all the kids take a sympathetic step toward him.

Hyp: "... what?"

Cera's father: "I know now that we can't live together that way. With such anger between us. Our kids found water because they worked together. Now we must work together, too."

This speech... okay. To preface this, I really like this speech. It perfectly boils down the core theme of the movie, and Cera's dad's character development. It's a good speech.

But it doesn't quite go far enough. Hyp's reaction to his father is REALLY extreme for what is shown, just yelling at him the same way Cera's dad yells at her. Cera is quick to anger, but we never see her cowering from her dad in fear like Hyp did here. And Cera's dad does acknowledge his flaws, but his admittance of wrongness barely touches on his racism. It does touch on it, right near the end, but barely. I feel like if this movie were braver to push its rating, it could have gone further with Hyp's father and the overall theme of generational trauma and bullying.

It is a really good speech, but it could have been great, especially since it's the emotional climax of the whole film.

Anyway, because this franchise still demands an action climax (and we need to pay off the Sharptooth foreshadowing), Mutt then notices a whole pack of 4 raptors, closing in.

Littlefoot's grandpa tells the kids to run, and one of the raptors jumps at him. Grandpa pulls his neck out of the way at the last second and tail-whips the raptor, launching it into a headbutt from Cera's dad, who flings it backward into a wall with such force that rocks start falling on top of it, knocking it out. 1 down, 3 to go. Hyp's father takes charge on leading the kids to safety.

Another raptor leaps at Grandpa, but he tail-whips it away. Littlefoot's worried for his grandpa (just like last movie, he's clearly got some lasting trauma from his mother dying), but Grandpa tail-whips another one away as Hyp's dad tells him to keep going. Grandpa emphasizes the importance of holding the line, but Mutt's parent (on the other side of Grandpa from Cera's dad) completely breaks down from fear, cowering and breaking formation, allowing all 3 raptors to jump over them to go after the kids.

Hyp's dad leads the kids down into the ravine right in front of the rockslide that blocks off all the water. They stop when they hear gnashing noises at the top of a cliff above them. The 3 raptors show up. But then the other adults arrive behind them and engage them in battle, unseen by the kids and audience. The noises of the fight are so vicious that the teens run the other way. The battle is so epic that the whole cliff collapses, everyone falling and getting knocked out.

The 3 raptors recover first, and decide the four unconscious adult dinosaurs are an easier target than the children. Hyp's father tells the kids to run to the dam and he dashes in to fight the raptors himself, even though he's the same size as one raptor and he's outnumbered 3-to-1. He does okay, though, getting in a double-punch, then using his agility to make the raptors all headbutt each other. Hyp decides to save his dad and teases the raptors to go after him instead. But before they reach him, Littlefoot's grandpa recovers and hits all three of the raptors with one mighty tail whip.

The grown-ups are back up and the raptors decide to pivot to attacking the kids, who are standing on the dam. Hyp kicks a rock down at one and Cera's dad follows up with a mighty headbutt that buries it in rocks. The Gang decides to go with the ol' standby of pushing a giant rock on them (another move we've seen in both of the previous movies), but this particular giant rock is too big for even them to push, so the teens help out and push it over.

That rock knocks down a ton more rocks, burying all three of the raptors. But even THAT'S not enough (holy shit, these raptors are TOUGH), and all three get back up.

But Littlefoot notices that rock they pushed unblocked a small stream of water, which slowly builds up bigger and bigger. The kids run off the dam and the adults run up a slope as the dam explodes with a massive flood, drowning the raptors, cascading down the Thundering Falls, and flowing into the Great Valley to put out the wildfire. Except never mind, the raptors are fine, they surface on the opposite side of the rushing river so they can't reach the others on the other side. Remember when I said earlier that Dinosaurs are Built Different? Apparently raptor dinosaurs, specifically, are Built SUPER Different.

Everyone returns to the Great Valley, but most of it is still dead from the fire.

They have to ration out what little food they have, as well as search the Valley thoroughly for any spots of green untouched by the flames. The kids and teens find one such place, and Hyp's father catches himself when he's about to yell at Hyp over it. Hyp says there's enough if they share, and Mutt and Goon 1 are surprised to hear him talking about sharing, but he insists that not sharing is for babies.

Narrator: "And so, as it turned out, the dinosaurs traveled from green spot to green spot, eating their fill. Each helping the others to find what they needed. Each learning the special kind of joy which comes from giving to others. And in the years to come, this story of sharing was told over and over again, until it became known as 'The Time of the Great Giving'."

SURPRISE! This movie was a Thanksgiving Day special, all along!

Looking it up, Goon 1's name is indeed a shortening of Nodosaurus, it's just "Nod". Well, I was close. It is odd that he's never named, and Mutt is only named once, so it's easy to miss. By the way, I don't think that Clubtail we see throughout the film is meant to be Nod's father. Nodosaurus didn't have a club tail, but this is also a dinosaur movie from 1995, so who knows?

This movie's core theme is about bullying, and it kinda folds the racism theme of the previous two movies into that bullying theme via Cera's dad and his character development. Hyp and his goons are the bullies to the kids, Cera's dad is the bully to the adults, and Cera's dad and Hyp's dad are bullies to their own kids, representing how generational trauma makes parents create bullies out of their kids. Cera's dad even mentions his own father in his song.

Cera's dad really is a MAJOR focus of this movie. I was worried his character development would feel forced and rushed, but that fire scene and then the speech later did a lot to make his turn feel realistic. His racist attitude has been a major background element of both of the previous movies, and this one dealt with it. Not quite bringing it all the way to the forefront, but close enough to deal with it by proxy of his other issues.

This movie has kind of a slow first half but it hit its stride in the second half when the kids find the water. Which, to be fair, was the case with the last movie, too. Chomper didn't even hatch until the halfway point.

The raptors' insane durability really stretched the limits of my suspension of disbelief. There were 5 herbivore adults fighting them, all but one being bigger, plus 8 juveniles, but the raptors seemed like unstoppable Terminators. Except the one who was apparently taken out like a punk at the very beginning of the fight. If the writers really wanted the raptors to be that big of a threat, they should have made there be more than just 4. Like, 10 would make more sense.

Pros: All 3 songs are better than Eggs. Cera's dad's character arc was surprisingly great. The tension of the drought was pretty good. The whole fire scene is really good. The bullies are WAY better than Ozzy and Strut. Petrie gets a neat arc in standing up to the bullies and earning their respect. The raptor fight at the end is kinda fun, it goes in a lot of interesting directions.

Cons: None of the songs are as good as You're One Of Us Now. The dialogue is more stilted and clunky than in the last movie. The final battle at the end felt tacked-on and it dragged a bit too long. The raptors, aside from their absurd durability, aren't interesting characters at all. Mutt and Nod do get a tiny bit of depth, but not enough.

Score: Overall, this movie didn't have any glaring flaws like the editing in the first movie or the Struthiomimus brothers in the second, but it's also generally not quite as good across the board. I think I'll give it a 7/10.

The Land Before Time: 8/10 (hypothetical uncut version: 9/10)

The Great Valley Adventure: 8/10

The Time of the Great Giving: 7/10